Dark Glitter

by C. M. Stunich

  “I'm not finished,” I said, but Arlo just smirked at me.

  “So what? I am.”

  “And I'm not,” I snapped back, but he was already shoving the bedroom door open and then slamming it behind him. I sat there on the edge of his bed for a moment, probably leaving a suspicious stain on the comforter—which he deserved—as I looked around the room. There were posters on all the walls, most of them of women, cars, or motorcycles. The room itself didn't tell me a damn thing about Arlo. It was generic, empty, like all the good stuff had been cleaned out a long time ago.

  I was about to give up and head into the bathroom when the door opened again and there Arlo was, shoving his jeans down his hips and flipping me over. He clamped his hand over my mouth again as he thrust his thick, hard cock inside of me. Oh. The Veil Keeper was very proud of her male, coming back to service her. The human part of me was surprised he was ready to go again … both parts were glad it was happening.

  Arlo's childhood bed creaked beneath his massive weight as he filled my body with the velvet wrapped steel of his shaft. And this time, he used the fingers of his free hand to reach underneath me, the rough pad of his thumb teasing my clit and bringing me to such a rapid orgasm that I really did scream, the sound muffled by the warmth of his massive palm.

  He continued his rapid thrusting until a grunt escaped his throat and he had his way with me a second time.

  “Don't even think about snooping around in here. There's nothing to find. If you want to know something about me, ask.” Arlo pulled away from me and fixed his pants, crossing his arms over his chest while he waited for me stand up, plop down on the toilet, and clean myself up.

  By the time we got back to the living room, everyone was staring at us and it was fairly fucking obvious that we'd been … well, fucking.

  “Jesus H.,” Arlo's mama said with a long sigh, looking up at the two of us like we were crazy. “To be young and stupid again.”

  “I am older than the universe in which you sit,” my voice said automatically, almost without my permission.

  “Maybe,” the blonde said, glancing over her shoulder at me, “but the girl in those eyes is young, dumb, and crazy. You watch yourself with these fae, little girl, because they'll as soon break as you they will take care of you. Life in a motorcycle club is a double-edged sword—the finest protection … at the highest price. Fail to pay, and watch it all fall apart.”

  #

  Shadows swept around me, monsters without name, decades without hearing the sound of another's voice. Everyone thinks they have a breaking point, but in reality, that's just the first marker of the race. Once it's shattered, another goal will show itself, another landmark to measure time by.

  After that, another. And another. And another.

  Each time that breaking point is reached, the mind, the heart, the soul, and even the body can reach new heights.

  But then … your head hits the sky, far beyond the point where you thought you'd take your last step, breathe your last breath. That's when you know you've truly reached it and everything falls apart.

  My soul … was tired. My knights, dead and gone. I was alone in blackness with nothing but pain for company. And I needed a way out.

  The only way was for me to give up this body, this life, these memories that I loved so much. Some were mine, some were from previous Veil Keepers, but they all held a special place inside my heart. I didn't want to leave. No, I wanted to believe that at some point, salvation would come.

  It never did, and I needed a way out.

  But even then, my stubbornness persisted and I stayed. Even then, I made myself fight for one more breath, one more day.

  It was only when their torture reached new heights, needles digging into my brain, the very depths of my soul … that I knew I needed to leave. If I didn't, then one day I would break and they would know.

  They would know everything and they would murder the world.

  I couldn't let that happen.

  I wished I could say it was fate, destiny, that I chose her because she was meant to be chosen. In reality, it was a simple coincidence, a collision of circumstances. She died the moment I fled. I gave her my body and she freed my soul.

  Becoming the Veil Keeper, it seems like it should arrive with pomp and circumstance.

  Sometimes … it's just a gasp and a scream.

  #

  The six days until the full moon seemed to disappear in a mere moment and before I knew it, I was on the back of Reece’s bike on our way to pack land. Arlo and Killian were with us, on their own bikes and looking every bit the bad boy bikers they were.

  We rode in silence, tense from the ongoing arguments about this mission to visit Papa Cocodril. It wasn't so much visiting the magicked gator that was an issue for my Lords. It was that they couldn't be present.

  “This is foolish, cher,” Reece muttered as we pulled to a stop on the border between Hunt land and pack land. Rafe himself had come to meet us, along with Amelie and Marcel.

  “This is necessary, Reece,” I replied with firm authority in my voice. Over the past week, she and I had been meshing more and more to the point now where our voices had blended into something halfway between our individual pitches.

  Without bothering to argue the issue further with him, I swung my leg off his bike and ran a hand through my windswept hair. It was so much longer than I remembered my hair had been, and was taking some getting used to.

  “Keeper,” Rafe greeted me, his bloodred eyes burning under the bright moonlight.

  “Rafe,” I replied, a small smile curving the corners of my mouth. I couldn't help it. Something about the wolves, or this wolf, made me happy.

  “Raphael,” Reece snapped, climbing off his bike and coming to stand beside me. His arm snaked around my waist and he held my hip in a decidedly possessive manner. “We would like to ask permission to enter pack land.”

  Behind me, I felt Kill and Arlo climb from their bikes and take up positions around me, like the Knights they were.

  “Denied,” Rafe replied without a moment's hesitation, then he held out a hand to me. “Keeper? The night won't last forever and you have a hard task ahead of you.”

  Giving Rafe a short nod of understanding, I peeled Reece's fingers from my hip and turned to face him.

  “Reece. Relax. The wolves have no reason to hurt me. They want the Veil restored just as much as we do.” I raised myself up on tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on his tight lips.

  Releasing Reece, I turned and did the same to both Killian and Arlo.

  Of course, Arlo wouldn't let me off with the quick peck I'd given the other two and seized my hair, demanding entry into my mouth and kissing the shit out of me. Clearly, he was putting on a show of dominance for the wolves, but hell. Who was I to complain?

  “My Lords,” I purred in a voice that was far sexier than I'd intended thanks to Arlo's kiss, “wait for me.”

  Flipping my green-streaked hair over my shoulder, I turned my back on the three of them and crossed the invisible line between territories. The second my foot touched tarmac on the wolf side, a smile curved across Rafe's face that sent a shiver of anticipation through me.

  Whatever he was up to, it wasn't of totally pure intentions.

  I'd lied to my Lords—apparently, I was the only fae who could lie—when I'd said the wolves had no ulterior motives for this. I'd felt it on their words every time they spoke of this quest, but nothing they'd said had been an outright untruth so for now I was content to let it play out.

  “Hey girl,” Amelie greeted me, the beads in her braids clinking together as she hip-bumped me on my way past her. “Ready for a swim with the gators?”

  “Of course,” I smiled back at her. Maybe she was the reason I liked the wolves so much? She'd spent most of the past week with us, only returning to her alpha a few hours ago, and I really wanted to say we'd become friends. Whatever that meant.

  Sketchy memories or not, I knew I'd never had close girlfriends in the p
ast as either Ciarah or the Veil Keeper.

  “You can ride with me if you want?” she offered. “But it is totally time you made those boys get you a bike of your own. You're our damn goddess—you should not be riding bitch to any man.”

  “She rides with me, Amelie,” Rafe ordered in a voice like smoke and shadows. To me, he nodded his head respectfully. “If that is acceptable to you, Veil Keeper?”

  “Ciarah,” I corrected him, for some reason not liking such a formal title from this impressive man, “and that is fine. It's not that far, I understand?”

  The silver-haired man just cocked his head to one side, then repeated my name.

  “Ciarah,” he murmured, and the sound of my name on his lips made me shiver. “No, it’s not far.”

  Marcel, the caramel-skinned man with eyes as black as death made a noise under his breath that sounded oddly like disgust, before climbing onto his own bike and revving the engine.

  “Let's go, Boss. We're wasting moonlight.” His voice was low—angry—and I made a note to keep a close eye on him. Something … something wasn't feeling right with him.

  But there were more pressing issues at hand, such as finding Papa Cocodril in the Louisiana Bayou and convincing him to hand over the key to my memories. Or, to part of them anyway.

  This is going to be a long road.

  The sound of frogs and crickets echoed through the still night as I stood on the mossy dock, looking out over the bayou water. The moon was full and round, bathing the whole scene in a cool silver glow better than any artificial light could ever provide, and in a word, it was magical.

  “Peaceful, no?” Rafe murmured, standing slightly behind me but close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body.

  “It's beautiful,” I sighed, not wanting to dive in and disrupt the glass-like surface of the water.

  “You going in fully-dressed?” he asked, and I could hear the edge of amusement in his voice.

  “You know,” I said, as I touched a hand to the white tank I was wearing, buried beneath a leather trench coat I'd stolen from Killian's closet, “back in the day, in human times, they'd swim in outfits baggier than this.” I stripped the trench off and threw it to the mossy ground.

  The tank was ribbed, and tight, and just barely thick enough to hide the circles of my nipples. I was finding I wasn't a particular fan of bras. And with the Veil Keeper's magic, I could go without as much as I wanted and never have to worry about sagging breasts.

  In the right light though, and with my nipples pebbled from the cool breeze coming off the water, I figured Rafe could probably see them through the fabric.

  “In Victorian times, they basically wore dresses into the water, with leggings underneath.” I put my palms flat on the hips of my skintight leather pants. “So perhaps I am going in fully-dressed? My suit would be more revealing than anything humans would've worn a hundred years ago.”

  Rafe snorted and looked me up and down, already shrugging out of his own coat and reaching over one shoulder to tear his tee over his head.

  “Right, but you're not human anymore—you're fae. And fae despise clothing that isn't intentionally decorative or provocative. And especially if it hinders whatever activity you folks are up to—which, let's not kid ourselves—usually involves sex.”

  “You think you can just say the word sex and I'll fall at your feet in acquiescence or adoration?” I asked as I stood there and blatantly watched him undress, his silver hair catching the beams of moonlight. It shimmered like the stars in the velvet sky above our heads and made my throat feel tight. He really was a beautiful man, Raphael LeRoux. “I bet that happens a lot, doesn't it?”

  “Maybe,” he said as he kicked off his motorcycle boots and then slowly opened the button on his leather pants, dragging the zipper down with agonizing intensity. “But that's not what I expect from you. No, I like a little sass in my women.”

  “Your women?” I asked with a scoffing laugh.

  “I said what I meant,” he continued, pushing his pants down his hips and revealing the full, erect length of his cock. “Now, are you truly going swimming in that getup? Or do you want to get naked? It could take a while to find Papa Cocodril and if the full moon goes down, you'll have to wait a whole other month to find him.”

  “You're acting like your dick isn't hard and leaking pre-cum,” I challenged, tearing my white top over my head and revealing my breasts. Rafe's eyes dropped to them immediately and his breath hitched. He glanced away for a moment and cursed under his breath in a strange language I didn't quite recognize.

  “I'm not acting like anything. What does it matter if my cock is hard? Your nipples look like rocks and I can smell your arousal from here.”

  “What can I say?” I replied coolly, pretending like the idea of him smelling me wasn't at all weird … or sexy. “My Lords’ kisses make me wet.”

  I kicked off my own boots and then reached for the button on my pants, just as slowly and teasingly as Rafe had. He watched my every movement, his red eyes gleaming, his tongue flicking across his lower lip.

  “Your women,” I said with another snort. “Please. Do you think to make me one of those?”

  “You're missing a Lord of Summer,” he told me, like he full-on expected to get the job, and I laughed.

  “Only a fae can hold that position,” I told him, “someone born of Faerie. Even if distant in blood, a relative who lived on the other side of the Veil is an unbeatable requirement.”

  “I am part fae,” he told me, and I raised both brows as he crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at me, his dick pointing straight at my face. It was just asking to be grabbed in a tight fist. “But once upon a time, I had the Swamp Witch make me an unshakable glamour. Not even you could see through it. It's permanent, can never be shed. But my faerie blood is still in there somewhere.”

  “A permanent glamour?” I echoed, searching the Veil Keeper's memories. Mmm. It was a hell of a lot easier to make a strong, beautiful glamour that stayed than one that could be removed at will. But the price was high. Whatever Rafe had paid to the Swamp Witch would've been costly, dangerous, and probably required a serious amount of bloodshed. “Why would you want to hide that side of yourself?” I continued, detecting nothing but truth in any of his words. It seemed that the more someone was truthful to me, the less my powers sung inside, as if it didn't need to alert me until … they weren't.

  Then it was like white-hot needles ripping through my soul.

  Fortunately, Raphael LeRoux wasn't stupid enough to try to lie to me.

  “I couldn't become alpha if I were part fae. Purebloods only. You're the only person that knows my secret now except for Amelie.”

  “Is she your mate?” I asked and Rafe grinned with bright white teeth.

  “Hardly. We've never even fucked. She's more like … a sister. Why? Are you jealous?”

  I shoved my pants down my hips, purposely turned away from Rafe, and then bent over to take them off, knowing that I was flashing the perfect plump shape of my cunt in his direction. Take that, asshole, I thought as I stepped out of them and stood up, flicking my dark hair over my shoulder at the same moment I opened my wings.

  They spread wide through the silver moonlight, catching the shimmering beams and radiating with their own inner glow.

  Rafe's jaw was clenched so tight, I expected to hear the cracking of teeth.

  “Not jealous,” I said as I turned back around, letting the rest of my glamour go. My skin shimmered a pale blue-white color, like I was lit from within, and I knew my eyes could catch and hold the attention of any man—even an alpha. “I just wanted to know if I should set Amelie up with one of the men in The Wild Hunt. Fae make excellent lovers, you know.”

  “Yeah, fucking and killing, the two things your people excel at.”

  I ignored him—and the my woman comment—as I made my way over to the edge of the water, tilting my head back to take a deep breath of the night air. I hadn't practiced flying yet as my back and shou
lder muscles weren't strong enough to hold me, but even if I could have, I wouldn't do it now.

  The bayou was too messy, too twisted and tangled to fly through. I'd have to soar above it and even then, I might miss Papa Cocodril

  I had to swim.

  And Rafe … he'd shift and run beside me.

  “Be careful out there,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against my right ear. I hadn't even felt him move, he was that quick. “I'll be watching you from the shadows, but you never know what we might run into.”

  He lifted a hand up and hovered it over my arm, moving around me and shifting at the same time, his body melting into a wolf the size of a fucking pony.

  His bloodred eyes blinked at me from his moonlight silver wolf form, and I couldn't help myself. My hand reached out and slipped through the fur of his neck, feeling the silken warmth of his pelt against my skin.

  A noise rumbled from his throat that sounded almost like a purr, then he was gone, dashing into the cypress in a blur of silver.

  My wings stretched and fluttered once more, and I sighed at the glorious feeling of the night air against the sensitive tissue. They weren't practical for swimming though—I’d just wanted to tease the alpha—so I retracted them into my back before diving headfirst into the inky bayou waters.

  The Sage had said I would find Papa Cocodril at the apex of the bayou which the guys had explained was a very literal place here on pack land. Apparently, once upon a time, he had lived out here in a small shack, surrounded by nature. He'd run afoul of the Swamp Witch though, and she'd cursed him into gator form until he apologized for whatever indiscretion had triggered such punishment.

  He sounded like a stubborn old bastard, because he was still here in gator form, many, many years later.

  The apex of the bayou was anywhere along the stretch of water that I swam, and I let my magic guide me. Inside, I could feel all the bright lights of my Wild Hunt, with my three Lords shining the brightest. Past them, I could sense all fae creatures, as I was their Goddess. Their souls were tied to me as sure as the water was wet.