Coral-600

by Roxy Mews

  “You mean something to me.” I told him.

  “I can’t wait to see what we can do together, Coral.” He kissed my forehead and tried to pull back.

  “I really enjoyed the things we’ve already done together.” I pulled him back in and started to press my tongue against his lips. He opened to me and moaned into my mouth.

  Quinn had held his body apart from mine, but as I pulled his chest closer and my nipples ached from the simple touch of the rough clothing, he knelt between my legs and pulled us together. I felt his cock, and I was ready to malfunction right there.

  “Hey!” The nurse who had the mechanical eyes leaned in the doorway with a smile on her face. “If you’re not familiar there is a phrase that suggests you get a room. Do you have one you can go to outside of a government office?”

  I considered that as Quinn’s erection pulsed against me. “I know of the perfect room.”

  Chapter Ten

  Quinn’s cabin was much nicer now that it didn’t have to be completely off the grid. We did the work ourselves. When both parties involved in repairs could work around the clock and had super human strength, home improvement projects took a fraction of their normal time.

  We turned on the electricity. Then we got high-speed internet. We didn’t own a computer. Quinn told me I was more than enough information for him, but the high-speed connection let me transmit my proposals to the panel for humanity evaluation.

  There were still some serious kinks to work out. The scientists couldn’t agree on exactly what point of awareness had to be met for artificial intelligence to be considered humanity. There were dozens of applications in for human status already, and I was appointed to the post that evaluated the applicants.

  There were times that I saw so much of myself in the mechanics that applied. At this point, skin transplants were required to even apply for human status. Quinn and I were working on changing that, but it would take time.

  We had plenty of it.

  Quinn came from the bathroom in a tux. He looked stunning. He didn’t try to hide his mechanics side any longer. He didn’t have to. We were invited to a special event at the palace celebrating the final stages of the Humanized Mechanics Bill. They called it Coral’s Bill.

  I found it a bit odd to have the policy that would impact the lives of millions named after me, but when Quinn told me it was my orgasm data that finally convinced everyone my Artificial Intelligence had advanced beyond artificial, I figured Coral’s Bill was better than the Orgasm Bill.

  Quinn was so good at sex he convinced the world I was human with a single orgasm. Actually there had been multiple transmissions.

  Dr. Randall and Dr. Franklin were in charge of the work developing quantifiable tests to determine levels required for humanity. Dr. Franklin said I needed to transmit a few cold showers if he was going to survive the work. I told him it wouldn’t help. So on Paisley’s suggestion I sent him a box of tissues and a sock instead. Apparently human males use these as masturbatory aids. I apologized after I found out the meaning. Dr. Randall said not to worry about it, and that he took pictures when Dr. Franklin opened the box and card.

  When I was granted human status, I was granted the right to review my medical files. The stun baton that should have fried every circuit in my system was ineffective.

  My system, my body, refused to shut down. I told the committee that I didn’t want to shut down, and my will prevented my system from erasing all of my data. But that wasn’t quite true.

  It was Quinn. I could forget all my data about proper etiquette and social cues, and I was even willing to let go of dancing, but I couldn’t let go of Quinn. The way he looked at me. The way he danced with me. The way he touched me. The way he made me feel. I couldn’t let that go. Quinn kept me alive. And maybe it could be said that he brought me to life. Or maybe he just made me realize it was okay to want to live.

  Quinn interrupted my inner computations and held out an arm. I took it. The silky shift dress I wore slipped against my body and I enjoyed wearing the soft fabric.

  I couldn’t wait to dance with Quinn again. Paisley had prepared me for the party. She told me the dancing we had done at the bar was not acceptable at a formal function at the palace. We had dance lessons in my old room.

  I moved out of the palace as soon as the construction on Quinn’s cabin was completed. I told Paisley she could stay with us, but she declined. I wanted her to find the happiness I had. I wanted her to feel as alive as I did.

  As we climbed into Quinn’s new truck and drove away, I realized no one had ever felt this alive before. At least if they did, it wasn’t in my database.

  About the Author

  Roxy Mews wrote her first story at age six on an electric typewriter. It was about a cat and a haunted house. Thankfully, her stories and technology have matured since then. Roxy spends her days fighting the evil day job in hopes of conquering the stories that run rampant in her head. To connect with Roxy Mews, find her babbling on Twitter, like her on Facebook, visit her Blog, or find all these links on www.RoxyRocksMe.com.

  Look for these titles by Roxy Mews

  Now Available:

  Hart Clan Hybrids

  Love Worth Biting For

  Love’s a Witch

  Coming Soon:

  Three’s a Clan

  You can’t outrun love, especially when it runs on four legs.

  Love’s a Witch

  © 2014 Roxy Mews

  Hart Clan Hybrids, Book 2

  Since a very real set of vampire fangs sank into her arm, Mary Fields has accepted that she’s part of a magical world where all her dreams and visions finally make sense.

  As she journeys to find a Wiccan mentor who’ll help her get a handle on her new powers, she clings to the one relic from her former life—a sketchpad. She also tries to ignore the red mating aura she’s beginning to see around her only companion on the trip—the hottie she used to read to at the library.

  Mary’s readings were once a fun distraction from the cruel joke the supernatural world played on Craig Hart. He’s supposed to protect her from vampires out to make her their personal blood supply, yet he can’t bring himself to keep his paws off.

  As Mary digs deep for the inner strength to protect herself, one stumble off her magical path sends her straight into Craig’s arms. Where love burns…but so does a truth that could turn that red mating aura into a river of blood.

  Warning: This book contains outdoor sex without the benefit of bug spray, and erotic biting that could result in involuntary eruptions of fur.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Love’s a Witch:

  Great. Don’t leave me alone with a candle. Yet another thing I could consistently screw up. I was only doing twenty or so other things wrong on a daily basis. It’s a good thing we found something new to keep up the variety.

  My best bud, Amber, let me keep my name, Mary Fields. At first I thought it was because she didn’t want me to lose my identity, but now, cleaning up the burnt remnants of the hotel curtains for the second time in as many days, I’m starting to wonder if she just didn’t want me to screw up my name too.

  I’m not a pyromaniac, I swear. I was trying to trance. I was trying to use the magic I’m supposed to have as a witch. When I let go of my consciousness I must thrash around a lot more than I thought. Or maybe the drapes were doused in gasoline. Normal curtains don’t really burn that fast, do they?

  I’ve had psychic dreams for, well, as long as I can remember dreaming. Swirly electric wisps, neon blue hazy clouds, and various other things pop up when I am sleeping that would make any normal person believe they got a bad batch of weed. Those are the dreams I need to pay attention to. Those are the ones that come true. Even with the freaky psychic stuff, though, I’d rather not clean up these curtains. How far up the wall did the smoke go? I put it out fast, but fire is pretty speedy.
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  Working with the local Wiccan coven in Chicago was supposed to help me train. It worked out okay for a while. They tried to teach me some basics, but a klutz isn’t welcomed into the circle during athame work.

  I learned two things the night they let me hold the knife. First, making a high priestess bleed when she wasn’t expecting it…not cool. Second, when you live with vampires, coming home smelling like blood is a lot like walking into a Weight Watchers meeting with powdered sugar on your shirt.

  Did I mention that? My best friend is a vampire now. A larger-than-life vampire/werewolf hybrid actually. Amber towers above me by at least half a foot and even though women that tall aren’t common, undead women who can shift into a giant dog are even rarer.

  I had a dream the night before she turned vampy, with all the neon blue clouds and green and purple electric swirls. In the dream I walked into the parking lot in front of Amber’s building and saw her there, standing in front of her own tombstone. She laid a flower on the ground and crushed the stone with a bad ass stiletto boot and one swift kick. Then she turned to me and told me it was time to go. The clouds surrounded us and that was all I got.

  When I woke up, I knew this wasn’t one of the dreams I could wait to play out. I knew this time I needed to suck it up and let my best friend know I was crazy. Turned out I wasn’t. Just uninformed. A phone call with Amber didn’t tell me much, but the next twenty-four hours gave me an education I never expected to get outside of a horror flick.

  I can admit to being kind of freaked out. A lot of my dreams have heavy symbolism. The witches said it’s because I don’t know how to tap into my natural psychic ability, and it leaks out at night. Hence the trancing and the subsequent cleaning up of the curtains that obviously weren’t flame retardant.

  The smoke was still heavy in the air when the door to my room burst open. The chain gave way with a loud clang and the knob was ripped from the hollow paneled door. Craig Hart stood there, sniffing the air, then let his hand fall to his side and his sleek golden eyes narrow.

  “Do you want to go back to sharing space with two hybrids still in their honeymoon phase? If you keep burning down our hotel rooms we’re going to be forced to get menial jobs, or drastically cut expenses.” Craig was mad. He always seemed to be on edge around me. The way I kept setting things on fire I couldn’t blame him.

  Craig was in charge of the Clan’s financial matters. Amber had decided a group of hybrids would be called a ‘Clan’. Not that I needed to know any of this since she wouldn’t let me play her reindeer games, but Amber was the first female leader of a group of hybrids who had broken away from both the vampire and werewolf traditions.

  Even though both she and Jake lead the group together, she had the ultimate power. Normally this was a man’s world. Like everything else in her life now, Amber ignored any tradition she didn’t like. She was making up a whole new set of terms. Nobody was willing to call her a queen yet, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

  Craig’s a werewolf. Amber and her mate had offered to turn him into a hybrid, but he said no. Since Amber had almost died when she turned, I can’t say I blame him.

  “You got me, Craig. I meant to burn the place down. It’s all part of my master plan to send smoke signals to the vampires who are trying to kill my best friend. ’Cause I’m a heinous bitch like that.” Sarcasm is the one thing I do right. You could say I’m fluent. “And he who rips doors off the frame, shouldn’t throw stones.”

  Craig held up the knob I don’t think he realized was still in his hand and cursed. “I’ll go pay for repairs. You might as well pack up. They usually kick us out when we cause this much damage.” He didn’t even look back at me as he let the door slam shut behind him.

  Of course it bounced open again, due to the lack of a doorknob.

  There was no denying it. There were a lot of hotels on our way west that had pictures of the four of us on their DO NOT RENT lists. Luckily, we had a pretty good nest egg which Amber’s dad had set aside for us when we made our speedy escape.

  I really missed Amber’s dad. I used to go to their family dinners all the time. Now that I understand everyone in attendance had been a werewolf, the epic amounts of food made a lot more sense. Alpha Paulson, and his beta wolf, who we all called Doc, stayed behind when we ran.

  Did you catch the part about vampires trying to kill us? That would be Amber’s mate’s father, Kevin Meyers. He is the Matheo, head vampire dude, to the Meyers Family vampires in Indianapolis. At least he was living there when we left. The Matheo was less than excited about his son, Jake, mating with a local werewolf.

  It’s a long story.

  Jake and Amber lead the Clan I’m traveling with. Amber is a force of nature. She’s loud, crude, and I am pretty sure she has no brain-to-mouth filter. Jake is her mate, and I have never seen a couple overcome so much to be together.

  We all had to drop out of college to run from the vampire Family who wanted to carve Jake’s brain from his head to harvest his miasma. That is what the vampires called the photographic memory bonded to his grey matter. Amber stole Jake and his magical brain away, so she was on the chopping block. I just saw too much. Being that vampires enjoyed drinking from humans, and the werewolves wanted to avoid becoming a science project, it was better for me to disappear. Run or find out how they planned to deal with me. The choice wasn’t hard.

  The whole fight began over fifty years ago when Amber’s dad found out the Matheo of the Meyers vampires was mated to the shewolf who attacked him and his family. Shit got real. A treaty was put in place. To ensure the safety of the children involved, there was to be no fraternizing between the hybrid baby, Jake, and kept-in-the-dark wolf, Amber.

  I could have told these yahoos that whenever you vow to keep a girl and guy apart they are destined to fall in love. Read any epic romance novel. The people who shouldn’t be together always make for the sweetest happily ever afters when they finally make it to the end.

  In this end, Amber was turned into a hybrid. She ended up with some extra strength and became the first female to lead a supernatural sect. Sure, all of that came with a death sentence from her father-in-law, but seeing the beautiful mating aura that surrounded those two… I was honored to run for my life with them. Although I’m still not sure why, Craig came with us too. He was the only other member of Amber and Jake’s Clan. I am the fourth wheel. The one that spun out of control on occasion and set things on fire.

  If I could join the Clan I would in a heartbeat. Humans, even with witchy powers, don’t have the ability to join a supernatural faction. I asked if there was a secret handshake or pledge. Amber said there was something that physically tied them, something they couldn’t make happen for me. I even tried speaking some of the ceremonial words the werewolves and vampires used to connect to their Packs and Families. Nada.

  I’m pretty sure Craig hated that I was coming along. He never really came near me unless I was in danger of fatally injuring myself, or burning something. Such a shame. Craig had a body that would have been right at home on the cover of one of my erotic romance novels. Heck, he wouldn’t even need the artist to add the fangs for the paranormal pictures. He had his own. He was a giant wall of muscly man. He took his shirt off a lot. I enjoyed it a lot more than I should have, but unlike my best friend, I’m very much alive.

  Craig towered over my 5’4” frame. I had brown ordinary wavy hair, and blue eyes. I liked my eyes and used to think they were something that made me stand out. Then Amber turned hybrid and got these amazing eyes that looked like a starburst. They even glowed on occasion. My only distinguishing feature was outdone again.

  All I had that was different now were my dreams, and those just made me strange. Among a Clan of vampire and werewolf hybrids, that was a feat. It wasn’t anything new though. I grew up in a foster home and the one time I told my foster parents about the dreams they threatened to send me away. I knew there were s
ome skeevy people out there, so I just kept my mouth shut, and got out the day I turned eighteen.

  I tried so hard to blend in when I got to college. Then I met Amber. She was tall and strong, and so confident. Something drew me to her, and I loved how she could just be herself. She ate like a horse, wore whatever she wanted, and had the best dad ever. She had the most beautiful colors too. She radiated a purple with green lightning strikes. The witches told me I was seeing her aura. Craig had said something similar in passing. Whatever.

  I don’t always see the colors around people. It’s usually when they are going through a strong emotion. Black with anger or extreme pain, blue with sadness, yellow with happiness and red with passion. I had never seen purple before I met Amber.

  And because I met Amber, I was now stuck in this hotel room cleaning up burnt fabric. I pulled a bedspread off the queen-sized mattress, and hung it over the large window that led out to the walkway. No need for anyone to watch me do this. Especially no need to remind Craig. He was already pissed off.

  The first time I met Craig he was working his library assistant job on campus. He held full-time hours there, so once I noticed him, it was easy to run into him whenever I wanted. He had the same purple glow Amber did. No offense to Amber, but I liked looking at Craig a lot more.

  He wore glasses when he worked at the library to read the print. He would always take them off to look at me when I talked to him. I could see his honey colored irises flex when he looked at me. I would get lost in them.

  I’m not even sure why he kept talking to me when I followed behind his restock cart. I was a dim bulb next to his strikingly bright aura, but we both loved talking about history. I read a lot of historical romance novels, and he had to tell me how historically inaccurate a lot of them were. I loved it when I found some that had it right. He would return the smiles I gave him at the library. Now I saw more of his tense back than his smiling face.