by Sean Davies
Connie was over the twin moons that Stitches had been so well received, and he had wowed dozens of people with his unique mimicking ability. He had continued to impress Instructor Brooke Sienna in the firing ranges, had assisted her husband Alexander as he studied complex Archmage literature and relics, and Veronica Reynolds loved seeing him imitate her expert-level Alchemy in the labs. Constance had brought her Alternative friend to Central Isle because she’d known that he’d find every aspect of it fascinating, especially all things Book Wielder related, but now it seemed like the Alt would play a key role in both the Justiciar and Conclave organisations; and although Constance was sure that Stitches’ natural ability would’ve been noticed and utilised at some point, she knew that it was Genevieve’s many connections which had sped the process up tenfold.
Constance had asked around and received a lot of recommendations for a place called the Dignified Diner that cooked fast-food style dishes but with a touch of restaurant-level class, and she thought it sounded more to Genie’s liking than a lavish setting. The place that it was situated in—a bustling town called Lyrimia, located on the south-eastern side of Central Isle—also had a cinema, so Constance had defied her normal lack of forward planning and pre-ordered tickets for after their dinner; that was, if Genevieve agreed to go with her in the first place.
She took a deep breath, and was eternally grateful that the halls of the Conclave Amphitheatre were so empty. Most of the Book Wielders had been dispatched throughout the world, so they weren’t present to see Constance walking in small circles whilst repeatedly psyching herself up. Connie looked down at the tickets and quickly mumbled her well-rehearsed lines, hoping she’d bought the right ones. She’d had to choose between an over-the-top horror movie about a sentient killer snowman called Dave; a rom-com about a human woman who falls in love with an Alternative, called ‘Love, Thy Sweet Corruption’; an action-packed film about a group of obnoxiously funny people who run a pub together and end up taking down a group of terrorists, called ‘Down This’; and a movie adaptation of a psychological thriller book called ‘The House of Twelve’.
Connie began doubting herself, and questioned what she was even doing here in the first place, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she didn’t act now then she would miss out on something wonderful. Connie steeled herself, knocked on the door and waited for a moment, feeling her courage seeping away. She knocked again, much louder than before, and this time she heard a door opening and activity on the other side, so she put the movie tickets behind her back.
Genevieve opened the door a little bit and peeked around the edge. She had a white towel wrapped around her hair, and looked extremely hot and bothered. When she saw Constance, her face went bright red.
“Hey,” Connie said, cursing her timing.
“Hi, Connie Lee—what’s up?” Genevieve replied in a friendly but awkward way.
“I was wondering if we could talk… but I guess this is a bad time,” Constance said, preparing to leave.
“Nah, it’s cool, come on in,” Genie said, opening the door all the way. “I was pretty much done in the shower anyway.”
Constance followed Genevieve inside, her eyes drifting to the Vampire Nightclaw’s slender body wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and she felt her heart flutter. She could barely remember a time where she’d put so much effort into romancing someone, and wondered if it was just the chaos on Desem that was driving her impulsive behaviour or if she was finally so pent up that her hormones had taken full control of her brain.
“No training this morning, then?” Genie asked.
“They said I could go. I was already way ahead of what they were teaching. They’re talking about putting me straight in the field, but they’re going to make it official when things have calmed down,” Constance replied, feeling good about herself.
“Oh, good for you,” Genie said, drying her hair.
Constance bit the inside of her lip; she hadn’t meant to sound so smug. Then she saw the half-packed suitcase on the residence’s small dining table and grimaced. “You’re leaving already?”
Genevieve nodded and walked to her bedroom. “Yeah, I thought I’d better get back to the Shadow Circle—you and Stitches seem like you’re all settled in. I’ll get a hold of Chloe once she and Alice have finished kicking ass around the world.”
“Oh, right, makes sense…” Connie replied half-heartedly, feeling a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.
“I got a little something for you and Stitches,” Connie heard Genevieve say from her bedroom. “Huh? I thought you’d followed me. You can come inside,” she called out, chuckling.
“Okay, cool,” Connie said, still hiding the now redundant tickets behind her back.
Constance walked into the plain-looking bedroom and saw Genie bent over, digging through a box in her cupboard. The Vampire Nightclaw pulled out two black books with a picture of a blue Nightmare Nettle on the front covers, exactly like the tattoo on the shaven side of her head. They were titled ‘Dreamleaf Blues: a tale of love, loss, and vampirism’.
Genevieve brushed her damp blue hair out of her face and handed over the books. “It’s not much, but they’ve both been signed by me and Chloe for some giveaways she lined up. There’s plenty of juicy gossip about us lot from a few years ago, right before the world went nuts, and hopefully they’ll be worth something one day.”
“Wow, thank you,” Constance said, gratefully accepting the gift. “Are you sure, though? Isn’t this book almost like your journal?”
Genie smirked. “I suppose so, but maybe you’ll understand me a little better for the next time we meet. Sorry in advance about the naughty bits though,” she added with a chuckle.
Constance looked into the Vampire’s sexy red eyes and studied her perfect features, hating how good Genie looked fresh out of the shower.
“You and Stitches going to the movies?” Genevieve asked, noticing the tickets in the Book Wielder’s hand. “Oh, cool, The House of Twelve! I loved the book—let me know if they do it justice on the big screen.”
Connie hesitated, tempted to lie and run off with her tail between her legs, before taking a big gulp and following her gut instinct. “They’re for us,” she said meekly.
Genie carried on rubbing her hair dry as she lifted an eyebrow out of curiosity. “Is Veronica up to her tricks again? I swear to the Goddesses, that woman needs to focus on her own love life for a change.”
Constance shook her head. “No, I got them for us… like, as a thank you. It was dinner and a movie, and stuff.”
The Vampire flashed her fangs in amusement. “Stuff, huh? Well, who could say no to that?”
“It’s stupid, I know. Sorry I mentioned it,” Constance said, flustered and angry. “You’re leaving anyway.”
“No, wait,” Genevieve said, grabbing the Book Wielder’s wrist gently. “I’m just surprised. I couldn’t tell if you liked me or loathed me, to be honest.”
Connie pursed her lips. “Well, you’ve got some good qualities,” she said, calming down.
“And what would they be?” Genevieve asked slyly as she closed the gap between them, allowing her towel to loosen and fall to the floor.
Constance blushed but couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at the Vampire’s pale form, going weak at the knees when she saw Genie’s thin, trimmed line of dark pubic hair leading towards her groin. “This is crazy…” she muttered.
“Sometimes crazy can be good,” Genevieve said, glad that Connie had made a move. She took the tickets and books and placed them into Constance’s bag, before lowering it gently to the floor. “Who do you think I was thinking about in the shower?”
Constance licked her lips, imagining the sight of Genevieve lathered up and playing with herself. “We shouldn’t… you’re leaving,” she said half-heartedly, even as her hands brushed down the Vampire’s cold chest and over her firm, shapely breasts.
“I think I could stick around a bit longer,” Genevieve said as she ran her fin
gers through Constance’s hair lovingly. “How could I pass up dinner, a film, and stuff?”
Genevieve kissed Connie passionately. Constance moaned in excitement and ran her hands over Genevieve’s body greedily. The Vampire sank her fangs into the Book Wielder’s neck, breaking the young woman’s olive skin with her incredibly sharp fangs and suckling on her blood. Constance sighed with pleasure as Genevieve licked the wound shut with the flat of her tongue, and she could feel the warmth of her stolen blood pulsing between the Vampire’s legs.
Genevieve gasped as Constance slid a finger inside of her easily, and she groped the Book Wielder’s impressive backside in return, eager to yank off her skirt and return the favour.
Then both of their phones began to chime repeatedly. They ignored the first three text message alerts and continued their passionate embrace, but their phones didn’t let up, so they both reluctantly stopped to check what the fuss was about.
“Fuck, its Veronica—she’s in trouble!” Genevieve said, scrapping for clothes.
Constance was still in a daze as she tried to make sense of her own text messages, before finally gathering that the Vampire Bloodmage was in Alchemy lab One-A, and in need of desperate assistance. “How did she even get my number?” she grumbled, feeling dejected. “What the fuck? She’s even saved herself as a contact.”
“On the Veronica scale of things, that’s nothing.” Genevieve said as she whizzed around the room in a blur, slipping on a lacy white G-string and bra, along with black leggings and a long light grey t-shirt in a matter of seconds.
The black-haired Book Wielder blinked rapidly as her eyes lost track of Genevieve for a moment, before seeing that she had moved to the opposite side of the room to slip on some shoes and grab a sheathed Katana. Connie had never seen anyone move that fast before.
“Come on, quick!” Genevieve urged, bolting out of the room in a flash and leaving the half-dazed Book Wielder behind.
Constance grabbed her bag and ran as fast as she could—which was at a snail’s pace compared to the gifted Vampire Nightclaw’s speed—chiding herself again for not spending enough time in the gym.
The first thing Connie saw when she finally reached the lab was a cloud of light blue smoke spilling out of the half-opened door, followed by Genevieve, standing with one hand on her hip and looking furious. The black scabbard of Genie’s katana was decorated with swirling silverwork patterns that looked like clouds or rolling waves, and it reminded Constance of the design she’d imposed onto her book. The Vampire Nightclaw shook her head when she saw Connie, and the Book Wielder entered the lab to see what the apparent emergency was for herself.
Veronica Reynolds, dressed in a gorgeous figure-hugging lacy black dress with embroidered cobwebs covering her modesty (for the most part), was propping herself up on a wooden work surface with a smoking over-packed Dreamleaf joint in each hand. She was with Stitches, who was wearing a filthy apron over his dark green suit, and she was trying to get him to take one of the joints for himself.
“I’m telling you, it just isn’t the same for us Alts,” Stitches droned. “If you have something sugary, however…?”
“Tell Constance what the emergency is, Veronica,” Genevieve demanded moodily.
Veronica took a drag from each joint and blew light smoke across the filthy alembic stand, flasks, and beakers, watching with her red puffy eyes as the crystal ware misted over for a moment. “The emergency… the emergency is that Stitches here helped me cook up the strongest, most best-est batch of Dreamleaf ever—but he doesn’t smoke it, ‘cos he’s an Alt!”
“You interrupted us so we could come and get high with you?!” Connie hissed furiously, completely disregarding Veronica’s status.
“Sky high…” Veronica mumbled, before making a rumbling engine noise and giggling uncontrollably. “Wait—what did I interrupt, exactly?” she asked coyly.
Genie hesitated, embarrassed and unsure of what to say, but Constance took a step forward and scowled fiercely.
“What do you think you interrupted?” Connie asked rhetorically. “Exactly what you tried to set up in the first place!”
“Aww, shit!” Veronica gasped. “Whoopsie!”
Constance grunted and turned away in a strop.
“So that tension between you two was some sort of foreplay ritual?” Stitches asked innocently.
“Now’s not the time, Stitches, sweetie,” Veronica whispered loudly, causing Connie to growl. “Try some, it will calm you down,” the Vampire Bloodmage hedged, offering the angry Book Wielder her spare joint.
“She doesn’t—” Genevieve began, but Constance had snatched the joint out of Veronica’s hand before she could finish.
Connie took a long drag and then coughed madly. “That’s stronger than I remember!”
“Thank you,” Veronica said, performing a comical bow and almost falling over in the process.
“What’s gotten into you today?” Genie asked the spluttering Book Wielder.
Constance took a slower drag from the Dreamleaf joint, and chuckled as the hallucinogenic effects kicked in. She saw Genevieve’s clothes disappear, and her blue hair grew into a wild array of Nightmare Nettles that covered her nipples and groin provocatively.
“Nothing—yet,” Connie replied flirtatiously, handing the Vampire Nightclaw the joint.
Genevieve wasn’t sure what had prompted the Book Wielder to loosen up so much, but she was enjoying Constance’s naughty side. Genevieve was looking forward to catching up where they’d left off, and spending her last night on the Isle leaving an impression that Connie wouldn’t soon forget.
“You’re going back to Rura tomorrow?” the stoned Vampire Bloodmage gasped, intruding on Genevieve’s foremost thoughts. “We need to throw a big party or something!”
“Nope. No way, not a chance,” Constance said sternly, hallucinating horns on the busty Vampire. “We already have plans.”
Genevieve smiled. “So no more emergencies, please.”
“Pfft. Looks like it’s just you and me then, Stitches,” Veronica shrugged.
“Sorry, but I already told Alexander that I’d assist with the latest book that his Dragon friend sent over,” Stitches said apologetically.
“Guess I’m partying by myself then,” the Vampire Bloodmage said nonchalantly.
Genevieve frowned. “V, why don’t you just spend the night at home?”
Veronica mumbled under her breath and took another drag of Dreamleaf.
“She’s worried about her husband…” Stitches said, using some imitation blood magic.
“Hey!” Veronica said, annoyed.
“Don’t like the taste of your own medicine?” Genevieve said with a grin. “So, trouble in paradise. Spill the beans, missy.”
“I can’t. I need to wait for Alice,” Veronica replied sadly.
“The Lord Imperator?!” Genie said, shocked. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d run your troubles past an ex-Inquisitor over me.”
“It’s not like that!” Veronica said defensively. “It’s a security thing, confidential information, such-and-such, etc…” She trailed off, seemingly bored of her own words, before ending her sentence with a prolonged giggle.
Constance, suspicious that the interfering Vampire Bloodmage would ruin her night of fun, decided to put a plan of her own into motion. “You should totally confront him.”
“Huh?” Veronica asked, looking confused.
“Your husband—you should confront him,” Connie reiterated. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re married, and you must love each other so much to get that far, so don’t just sit here getting stoned like a complete waster. Get your sweet ass back in the game and sort it out!”
Under normal circumstances Genevieve would’ve considered the advice to be on point, but after knowing Veronica for years, Genie knew that the situation had to be dire for the overconfident woman not to face Winston in the first place.
“It’s not that simple…” Veronica sighed,
before clenching her fists. “No, you know what? You’re right!” she said defiantly. “Enough is enough!”
“Atta girl,” Connie said proudly, secretly glad that the curvaceous Vampire wouldn’t be interrupting her night of fun.
“Right after we finish this batch,” Veronica said cheekily.
Genevieve looked at Constance, awaiting her call on whether they should stay or not.
“Screw it, why not? Let’s hang out here for a while,” Constance shrugged. “Life’s too short.”
✽ ✽ ✽
After spending the first half of the day hanging around with Connie, Stitches, and Genevieve, and the latter half of the day picking at snack food whilst sobering down, Veronica Reynolds was finally ready to confront her husband (or whatever he’d become).
Veronica couldn’t wait any longer, and needed to know what had happened to the man she loved. Although she knew it would be safer to wait for Alice Eve’s return to the isle, she couldn’t stand to sit idle any longer. Constance’s advice had been right on the mark (even though Veronica knew that she’d only said it to keep her night of passion from being tampered with), and if the Winston she’d married was still present in any shape or form then she was confident that she’d leave the confrontation unharmed—physically speaking, at the least.
The cool, early evening breeze wafted in from the tall open windows, and even though the amphitheatre was at the heart of the isle, Veronica could still make out the scent of the sea. She looked at the red sheets on the massive four-poster bed and sighed, unable to remember the last time that she and Winston had put it to proper use. She walked across her massive bedroom’s stone floor to Winston’s study, stopping beside the door. Veronica knocked and then entered without waiting for a reply.
Inside the study, multiple magelight orbs were suspended in the air, illuminating the fastidiously organised room. Every book, folder, and file had been sorted and colour-coded, even down to the sticky notes pasted to a poster of the world. Winston was sitting at his desk at the far end of the room, wearing his regal black and white finery as always.