by C. V. Larkin
"Piss on a pixie," Tian muttered.
A larger opening drew back, revealing only half of the door keeper's golden face. Tian did her best not to roll her eyes. Out loud she said, "As an emissary of Swift Retribution, I wish to hold audience with The Progeny, Royal and Xavier."
The eye flared a third time, but before the door could slam shut, Tian shoved her hand in it. "I appreciate the showmanship, Zulpey, but I'm on a time constraint. Would you mind doing me a solid and skipping to the part where you open the door that I'm going to fit through?"
"Okay," came Zulpey's muffled reply.
Zulpey's ready acquiescence was a relief. The energy from the sigils was setting Tian's teeth on edge and the threshold show usually took twenty minutes. The oak door opened, revealing an octagonal entryway circled in both fire and water. In the center of the foyer stood a voluptuous nude female with pale golden skin that matched her pale golden bob. Zulpey opened one of the small compartments drawn into her flesh and deposited a brass key into a rectangular slot in her left cheek.
Tian looked from the female to the hundreds of locks on the inside of the door she'd come through. "Not sure I want to know where you keep the rest of those," she said.
"The keys open the door," Zulpey told her with wide eyes and a pleased blank expression.
"Yeah, they seem to. What's doing, Z? How've you been?"
A master of small talk she was not.
"I do the doors!"
Right.
"And a good job too."
Zulpey tackled Tian in an enthusiastic bear hug. She may have been small, but she was steel crushing strong. Tian stood awkwardly, patting the other female on the head and searching for non-violent ways to extract herself because she didn't have the heart to shove the kid off. Whatever else she was, Zulpey was an innocent soul, a big, sweet puppy with a nice rack.
"Okay, down girl," Tian said maxing out on unnecessary contact. She leveraged the other female's right shoulder joint and pried herself loose.
"And I thought the show started later."
Zulpey bounced around like a baby with a bladder problem. She smiled wide, showing off multiple rows of razor sharp teeth. "I like our Tian half-breed," she said with a bright eyed smile.
The Progeny Xavier stepped away from the wall and through the fire/water boundary. The fluidity of his movement accentuated the fact that he was half naked. Razor-sharp hip bones framed wash board abs, drawing the eye towards an obscenely low waistband on a pair of turn of the century breeches.
"You look like you mugged a Quaker," Tian said. "That all you got away with?"
Xavier grinned; the well groomed dirty blonde goatee made his strong jawline even stronger and his teeth appear impossibly white. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand down his chest to where he gripped the bulge in his breeches. "I still got something for you."
He winked. It was a nice sight and he knew it. He also knew that she couldn't give a shit less. Tian raised an eyebrow. "Anyone ever tell you you're a crass bastard?"
"Surprisingly often. Speaking of which, Zulpey, go find Royal. Why don't you let me like our half-breed for a while in private?"
Zulpey bobbed her head, causing a great big eye-full of anatomy jiggle before disappearing into thin air.
"It's been awhile," Xavier said. "We missed you." His tone was light, but the earnestness crept in despite his obvious effort to the contrary.
"Don't tell me you boys couldn't find anyone else to bleed."
"Sweetheart, no one else looks quite as good while they're doing it."
"I need a spell and a favor, Xavier."
Xavier's almond shaped eyes glowed like a blue beacon over impossibly high cheekbones. "I'll take any opportunity you give me to perform."
"Motherfucker."
He was beaming. "You always were my favorite show."
"Lucky me."
The walls around them began to move. The marble slabs shifted and bunched with a loud grinding noise. They elongated, sculpting themselves into drapes that appeared the exact texture and shape of a heavy velvet cloth. They ran from the now twenty foot ceilings to the floor. Objects built themselves from the ground until they stood in a palatial office made of bright stone. Everything from the chairs to the impossibly thin post-it notes on the desk in the corner were monochromatic and smooth.
Xavier leaned in. "If you're impressed you should let me show you what I can do with my hands."
"For an angel you're pretty rough around the edges. You don't need to prove it."
"Half angel. How do you know that I'm not the one with the demon taint?" he asked. He twined his hands into the strands of her hair easing his body closer as she took a step back. He ignored the response.
"Ceyla finds Royal...of interest," Tian said. "Besides, you work too hard at being a dick."
Xavier traced her mouth with his gaze and tugged on the strands of hair in his grip. "It used to come naturally. Tell me, Tian, what kind of men interest you?"
He leaned in close, pressing the lean lines of his body flush against her. Xavier had pull, she'd give him that, but he'd have been better off using it on someone with a pulse. Despite the attitude and the endless supply of come-ons, he was decent.
"No one interests me," Tian said. She turned her head because his mouth was too close to her own. "It's part of the appeal."
Intimate proximity made her feel like a victim when it wasn't a prelude to violence. She leaned back further and watched Xavier' s eyes grow serious, becoming too old for his face and too tragic for comfort.
"I believe you," he said with a gentleness that made her want to cringe. Damn him. He was definitely part angel and in the mirror of his light, the image of her soul he reflected was not a pretty one.
"I'm looking for something that belongs to Faerie, but could be obscured by black magic. Will you accept my blood in payment for the tracking spell I require to find it?"
"Indeed," he said, sliding the mask of bravado back into place. His smile was hollow as he gestured to the marble tapestry becoming translucent in front of them, "Far be it from me to deny our audience this kind of spectacle."
****
Sio leaned against a tree across the street from The Gates waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Something about the place had set his teeth on vibrate, not that he minded. The feeling was a great distraction, even if it did cause his rapidly fading wounds to hurt all over again. He caught sight of Jay's '87 Accord trundling down the road. The blatant distaste on some of the ticket holder's faces as the bumper sticker swaddled heap chugged to a noisy stop in front of the valet booth made him laugh out loud. Much to the guy's credit, the valet smiled openly and took the keys with the sort of glowing enthusiasm most people reserved for finding money in the street.
Sio waded through the electric current in the night air to the sidewalk in front of the infamous theater. He saw Rachel dart out of the backseat, putting as much distance between herself and the offending vehicle as possible until it was safely out of sight around the corner. She ignored both Jay and Bren, tottering on unfathomably high heels, and checking on the ten pounds of make-up spackled to her orange skin. Some date.
"The Accord's looking good," Sio said. "I'm pretty sure I caught a flash of paint under all those slogans."
Jay jumped. "Damn, man, what are you moonlighting as a cat burglar now? You scared the crap out of me," he swore, clutching his chest in mock horror. The thin blonde wisps of his baby fine hair stuck out in unplanned disarray. He was wearing a white button down, probably because Bren had threatened him, but underneath was the "Snakes on an Incline Plane" T-shirt Sio had gotten him for his thirtieth birthday.
Brenwyn, Jay's leggy goth, laughed and added, "It must be the Big Bastard Cloaking Device. How are you Sio?"
"Ready to have my life altered," he told her.
"I can so handle that." Rachel's southern California drawl whined around him as she clacked up and grabbed his
ass. Handsy. Sio forced down the initial revulsion and played nice.
"Looks like you're handling a lot more than life alterations," Jay said.
"Hi, Rachel. It's been a while." A muscle twitched in Sio's jaw as he removed Rachel's hands from his goods. He hoped that came out polite as opposed to interested, but odds were she'd already started dubbing over him.
"What happened to your face?" Rachel asked, eyeing his damage.
"Car accident," he lied.
"Don't front," Jay said. "It's not your fault you got worked for your lunch money."
"We never blame the victim," Bren chimed in, patting his arm. Sio laughed.
"It looks sexy. Like you got into a fight or something," Rachel said. "You guys are going to love this. I've heard it's really hot."
Again with the pointed stares.
"And here I thought I'd been tricked into that pesky culture thing," Jay quipped, barging into Rachel's line of sight.
Bren shook her head, "I don't know what you're crying for. Your culture involves a five course meal."
"Are you calling me a fat kid?"
"Hey, my inner fat kid's in convulsions already," Sio said after seeing the feigned affront on Jay's goofy mug. "I think he needs a drink."
"Excuse me."
A middle aged woman in an expensive looking coat and horn rimmed glasses ran a hand down Sio's left bicep. "Excuse me, you look familiar; are you part of the show?"
Sio countered the urge to move away by easing an arm around her. What was entertainment for one more? Before he could figure out how to answer, Rachel piped up.
"My boyfriend's only show is going to be for me later tonight."
Worse, that was definitely worse. The woman flushed with embarrassment and began to stutter an apology.
"Actually," he interrupted, "My date wouldn't want to see the show either. I have the internal rhythm of an epileptic gibbon. It ain't pretty." He held up three fingers and added, "Scouts honor."
The woman flushed again and Bren jumped in to smooth the situation further. "He really does. Two left feet, you know? It's kinda sad."
"Totally pathetic," Jay added.
"Your package is pathetic, smart guy."
The woman in the horn rimmed glasses drifted back towards her own group, no doubt impressed by his rapier wit and incredible maturity. None of that mattered, however, because seconds later a compartment swung open in the door with a high pitched squeal and commanded everyone's attention. Revealed was a bright eye the color of a fresh blood stain.
When the door show was over they were ushered inside and plugged into a world with too many opulent images to process. The building was huge. That it had appeared otherwise from the outside was one hell of an optical illusion. The winding maze of rooms they were led through contained everything from old stone churches to lavish circus tents so saturated in color it was painful. Nothing in the place wasn't top of the line and beyond. Each item and entity they passed was poised to evoke the most dramatic effect, and none of it disappointed. There was still something strange about the air, but at least the biting, stinging, finger in light socket feeling had abated at the door.
A compact woman with pale finger waved green hair and facial tattooing seated them and returned with drinks without taking an order. She placed a wide glass in front of him. Sio looked up to thank her, wondering how she'd known. As their eyes met she hissed and averted her gaze. She curtseyed and booked. Sio watched as she receded into the shadows.
"Were you hitting on our waitress?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Rachel, stop," Bren chided.
Rachel shot him a withering look. "The service here sucks anyway."
"Maybe it's you," Jay put in with an overly polite smile.
"Jay, stop, you stop now. Why don't we all relax and have a good time, okay? Rachel, Sio gets attention, but he's here with us. We're used to it. Sio..." Bren trailed off. "Do your best to keep the pimp juice to a dull roar, okay? Everybody good? Good, now when is this thing supposed to start?"
Right on cue, the lights dimmed and servers spilled from the arena's marble floor as if they were climbing from the pits of hell. Each one carried massive trays laden with brilliantly colored foods in all shapes and sizes. The smell was intoxicating. Issues were forgotten as plates heaped with exotic offerings were set down by lightning quick hands that melted back into the shadows surrounding their booth.
Sio speared something he didn't recognize with a fork that probably cost more than his apartment and stuffed it into his mouth. The only sound from the rest of the table was the frantic clatter of silverware against antique china. He glutted himself until a clap of thunder reverberated through the room, shocking him out of the taste induced stupor. A deep disembodied voice followed suit rumbling in the newly stilled air.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Honored Guests, and Other. Tonight we bring you ecstasy and agony, a tempting taste of both heaven and hell for your viewing pleasure. Tonight is like many other nights, but begins quite unlike any other. Dearest creatures, we lay before you an offering and a boon. Please welcome your most fearsome hosts Messires Royal and Xavier. Our Lion Tamers."
The air temperature spiked as two men appeared in the arena, phasing into view as if they were part of a heat mirage. The one on the right was lean with white blonde hair that looked too bright in contrast to the angularity of his face and the depth of his tan. The metal in his bottom lip glinted in the low light when he smiled. The guy on the left was a few inches shorter. A slightly stockier, hard muscled dirty blonde with a carefully man-scaped goatee and hair cut for fighting. He had high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and eyes blue enough Sio could see them clearly from fifty feet away. Scars were etched all over the side of his neck and torso as if the guy sat around carving himself on Saturday nights for fun. Both of them were pretty and either one of them looked like a good fight.
"Oh good, Chip'n Dales," Jay said around a mouth full of food.
Sio swallowed. "Nah, I think they'd start out wearing more."
"Shhhhh," Rachel bit out.
"You guys are going to make jokes through this whole thing, aren't you?" Bren asked.
"Yep."
"Pretty much."
Sio shoveled another heap of food into his thrilled pie hole. He choked as a gorgeous, long legged, crouching female came into focus. Holy Christ.
It was HER.
She was better than he remembered. He hadn't been improving through fantasy. And fuck, he'd fantasized a lot. As his hallucination stood and circled the men in the arena, Sio got a good look at her own scars. Three parallel lines slid diagonally across her right cheek, starting underneath her eye. The marks were ugly and oddly appealing, an asymmetry that made the stark way in which she was beautiful more accessible. They turned him on, which was an inappropriate response he wouldn't overanalyze.
She was barely concealed by a strapless shift that fell to her knees. It had slits at both thighs, and only served to accentuate a figure that made him dumb with undiluted lust. The blood in his upper body drained, pooling in his lap, filling his cock until the bastard was beating at his zipper like a battering ram. Sio was light headed and he was hard; so rock solid he could barely think enough to be surprised. He'd wanted a lot of women, but nothing like this.
The choreography of the threesome on stage unfolded with more violence than he'd been anticipating. Showmanship and sensuality distracted from the fight in progress, but not one of the participants was pulling punches. If Sio hadn't spent so much of his spare time brawling he'd have doubted both the spontaneity and the force of the impacts. There was no question though, they were connecting and they were doing it with force. The woman in the arena was rolling out moves he'd never seen before with a wicked precision that came by way of a lifetime of training and a complete disregard for safety.
The bleach blonde with the lip ring and the red breeches grabbed her, dragging her along the ground and up against his body.
Sio sucked in a shallow breath, fist clenching, until he bent the fork he'd been holding like a dagger for an indefinite amount of time. He was lucid enough to wish with frightening intensity that it had been the guy's neck.
She smiled, baring her teeth, and Sio's stomach went tight. She elbowed Lip Ring in the face. The dirty blonde with the goatee brandished a dark leather bolo whip from somewhere and wrapped it around her throat, pulling her towards him as she hammered him with vicious maneuvers that lent her the advantage. In a moment of intimate proximity that fucking goatee shrouded mouth descended toward hers and she went rigid.
The room was silent. Sio stumbled to his feet before he could stop himself. He was so cold he was damn near hypothermic. In the periphery he heard someone muttering about the temperature, but he was way too worked up to care. He held his breath, wondering if he was going to embarrass himself by tackling the guy in the middle of the show over a kiss. Shit, probably. He was irrational, completely out of control.
Goatee was seconds from laying claim to her mouth when she head-butted him in the face. Lip Ring blocked her escape and she dropped to the floor and hit him in the knee with a sickening crack. The guy's leg buckled, and he grinned like it was foreplay. Somewhere in the back of his short-circuited brain Sio realized he was moving, hauling ass toward the floor...toward her. She looked up, gaze swinging to meet him and the moment was electric. Incendiary.
Those amber eyes practically felled him.
She lunged toward him, as the fire between them burned its way through his lungs. They were almost at the wall when Goatee coalesced behind her, pinning her arms and yanking her backward. Lip Ring was right behind and the son of a bitch buried a thin silver dagger up to the hilt in the side of her neck. The removal sent a bright red flume of arterial blood into the air. It was burning hot and wet, soaking the front of Sio's shirt as he barreled toward the vanishing trio. They dissolved the way they had come in, like a mirage, right in front of him.