Rites & Desires

by Amanda Cherry

  She wouldn’t so much have contended that she had feelings for Jaccob. Ruby wasn’t entirely convinced she fully possessed the capability for feelings at all. But this challenge, once met and conquered, had steered her in a wholly unknown direction. It felt dangerous and exciting, this new adventure in romance, and Ruby felt more and more titillated the deeper into it she got. Perhaps it felt so temptingly treacherous because she hadn’t a planned endgame for their association; there was no plan left to execute at all. The only end she’d had in mind had been getting Jaccob in her life. She’d never stopped to think about what she was going to do once she had him. Sitting on top of a donut place drinking hot cocoa certainly would never have come to mind.

  "I didn’t know what kind of donuts you like," Stardust said, pulling the contents of the bag out one-by-one and placing them onto napkins he’d spread out on the yellow-lacquered picnic table, "so I got us a bunch."

  Ruby stifled a chuckle into her hot cocoa. She shrugged and tried to smile. It was a sweet gesture, buying a sack full of donuts so she could have her pick. It was the kind of thing she would usually associate with an over-eager employee, deriding them for their obsequiousness if she caught wind. But somehow coming from Jaccob, the gesture seemed sincere, and not at all despicable. It may have been the lingering magic making her unusually amiable, but Ruby had no inclination to belittle his overzealous donut acquisition.

  "You’re adorable, Jaccob," she told him, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice, "but I don’t eat carbs."

  Stardust crossed his arms over his chest and studied her carefully. "You ate lumpia," he said, "and croquettes."

  "When?"

  "At Durian!"

  "Well," she replied, a flush rising to her cheeks, "first dates don’t count."

  Jaccob started. He turned his attention from the buffet of donuts he’d been laying out and sat down beside Ruby on the bench. "So you figured that out?" he asked her sheepishly.

  "Figured what out?" she asked, glancing at him sidelong over her cup of hot cocoa.

  "You figured out that was a date," he answered.

  "Actually," she said, reaching out to pat him on his armor-suited knee, "I wasn’t completely sure about it until you confirmed it just now."

  Jaccob chuckled. "Oops," he commented. "I guess I’m not much a man of mystery."

  Ruby shrugged. "That’s part of your charm, Jaccob," she told him. "You may be some big damned hero, but you lack pretension. That’s not something I encounter very often in my business. It may keep you from being as shady as you might be in romantic dealings, but I promise it’s an endearing quality." Ruby smiled again, wondering what had come over her to cause her to say that.

  She wasn’t nearly the exponent of honesty and forthrightness she’d just made herself out to be. In fact, earnestness and transparency were hardly qualities she admired in anyone, much less ones she’d bothered to cultivate in herself. She tended to enjoy such sincerity and goodness only in an adversary; it made them predictable and therefore easily defeated, be that on the field of combat or at the negotiating table. But in a comrade, she wasn’t so fond of such sincere goodness. This left her thinking as she sipped her too-sweet hot cocoa.

  She’d never seen Jaccob as a comrade. He wasn’t a colleague nor a teammate. He wasn’t even an ally she’d coaxed and courted to her side, although she had to admit that having Stardust all but at her beck and call was a benefit of this whole endeavor. He was, rather than a partner or a comrade, a conquest. Ruby had had her share of romantic conquests before, but there was something greater than about what was going on with Jaccob. The whole exercise in seducing him had begun as a way to increase her public influence. She’d looked for the person in the world from whose association she could possibly gain the most, and she’d seduced him. It was as simple as that. He was a trophy to be won, and now that she had him in her possession, she was free to flaunt him out in the world the way she would a Grammy or an Oscar.

  So why was it, now that she had him, she was so concerned with his happiness? She’d surely never given a damn about the feelings of her lovers in the past. She supposed it might have something to do with the fact that he was the single most wealthy and influential individual in Cobalt City, and perhaps the country, maybe even the world--Avatars of Immortals notwithstanding. But then again, it was more likely just the high she was still feeling from the intense magic the Eye of Africa had impressed upon her before he’d happened by the roof of her building tonight.

  Yes. That was most likely it.

  Because it couldn’t be any other thing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Once Stardust had polished off the sack full of donuts, and Ruby had indicated she was quite finished with her hot cocoa (as much as she was planning to drink of it, anyway) he’d offered to take her home. With a wink and a simper, she’d given him a better idea. She wanted more time in the sky.

  Stardust seemed more than happy to oblige her.

  Flying with him was exhilarating. He was willing to let her do as much on her own as she dared to. They’d flown side-by-side for a while, Stardust holding her left hand while she used her right to steer the StarBoard. When she’d insisted, he’d even let go entirely, letting her try to fly solo but all the while making sure she felt just as safe alone in the sky as she had in his arms mere inches above her balcony.

  Upon reflection, she realized she’d been far less prudent than she ought to have been high above the streets of Cobalt City. Nobody’s perfect; even Stardust makes mistakes. And although had anything happened, Jaccob surely would never have forgiven himself, that wouldn’t have made the fall to her death any easier. Next time, she reasoned, she’d keep hold of his hand.

  And there would be a next time. She was sure of that.

  The luscious amalgam of the adrenaline from flying and the soul-level tingling brought on by her renewed proximity to the Eye of Africa had made for what might have been the best sex of Ruby’s life. It had certainly been the best with Jaccob. Granted, that wasn’t saying much. He’d been a timid, although tender lover in the beginning--patient and generous, but lacking imagination. It had taken him a little time to come out of his shell in the bedroom, and then a little more time for Ruby to be honest enough about her predilections to be satisfied. His taste had veered so far toward the vanilla that she’d been a little bit afraid of scaring him.

  But between the connection she’d felt from him all night while they flew, and the fantastic feelings of magic and excitement that had her whole body buzzing, she’d decided to let down a little more of her guard.

  Gods, that had been a good decision.

  And an easy one, come to think of it. Jaccob was making lots of things easy that she’d always imagined to be difficult. The most difficult thing about her whole association with Jaccob was having to come to terms with the fact that a genuinely good, decent, caring person had taken a real shine to her. Plenty of men (and a good number of women) had come under her thrall in the past, but they’d all been under her magical influence. The few others she’d let herself get close to over the years had all been out to use her in some way. And Jaccob was neither. It was foreign territory, this mutual-respect-and-attraction thing, but it was exciting to explore. Setting her sights on having Jaccob Stevens for her own had been a very good decision indeed.

  Getting into bed with Stardust had turned out to be very rewarding.

  Getting into bed with Lyle Prather (proverbially speaking) was proving to be something else altogether. He was getting on her very last nerve. She’d promised him an update on the concert at the White House, but had yet to give it to him merely out of spite. The plans were going along swimmingly; the show would be happening in a week and so far, things had come together without a hitch, save for the fact that Prather had been calling Ruby’s office relentlessly looking for his update. She’d never been so glad in her life for not having given someone her personal number.

  Poor Bridget was the one having to field all th
ese calls. Ruby was pretty sure her receptionist hadn’t voted for Prather, but there seemed to be no convincing the woman that a call from the sitting President of the United States wasn’t a priority. That resulted in Ruby’s getting multiple messages from Bridget each day telling her Prather had called and wanted her to call him back.

  She tried to take pleasure in the fact that the man who’d recently risen to the position touted "leader of the free world" had reached the point of practically begging for her attention, but the man himself was a gnat. Ruby couldn’t help but find him annoying. If she hadn’t already been in hock to Loki for the loan of the Blights, she might have requested his assistance with his jilted avatar. But as it was, she thought it best to leave the god out of the whole mess until she’d secured the power of the Eye of Africa to herself for good. She would need the Blights’ help to get that accomplished, and she didn’t want to risk irking Loki into taking them back just as she was on the cusp of making it happen.

  Because it would be just like him to do something like that. Just like it was entirely in character that he appeared to have not so much as stepped foot in the eleven-million-dollar penthouse she’d offered him. She’d been down to check on the place a few times, once having considered berthing the Blights there. But the flat was inappropriately furnished for living. She’d left it empty, but for the few icons and fetishes she’d had brought in to allow Loki to occupy the space. An entire floor of the newest, chicest, most sought-after address in the city stood unadorned save for a scattering of ceremonial items. And so far the troublesome god had failed to show. Because Loki was being Loki.

  If he had done this to anyone else, Ruby would have found it amusing. Being on the receiving end of his tricks had never been her favorite. But she supposed a scheme that cost her only in dollars was as friendly as the god was likely to get, and she could live with that. What was a bit of real estate compared to a friendship with a deity?

  She wondered, though, how that friendship might be tested when he found out about her collusion with Prather. He’d been understanding about shrewd business decisions in her past, and it even seemed like he’d forgiven her for the kerfuffle in Bayreuth. But rendering aid to a potentially disgraced Avatar in his hour of need might be over the line. Ruby was suddenly second guessing her long-running policy of not giving a damn. Choosing not to stick her nose into the business of gods and monsters that didn’t directly concern her had served her well in the past, but not knowing how this all worked nor how Loki was likely to react were he to discover her colluding with Prather was causing her a smattering of dismay. She supposed this was one of those times when it would serve her better to ask forgiveness than permission.

  Jaccob had made it pretty clear that he detested magic, and even more abundantly clear that he despised Prather. She couldn’t imagine how he might feel about Loki. Ruby knew she was playing a possibly dangerous game, putting herself in the middle of this triangle, but she’d never been one to shy away from danger before, and she wasn’t about to start now--not when she was right on the verge of getting everything she wanted. But still she was aware she’d need to tread lightly in the coming weeks. Once she had the magic of the Eye for her own, everything would be easier. For now, she needed to take special care to keep her relationships intact; with no magic to assist her and no supernatural means to repair any accidental damage done, she had only herself to rely on to keep the peace where Loki, Prather, and Jaccob were concerned.

  After the White House concert, she could wash her hands of Prather if it suited her. She’d have gotten everything out of him that she needed by then. And if that meant both Loki and Jaccob were happier with her for having done so, then all the better. The President was already becoming a real thorn in her side, and one she only tolerated because of his connections to Loki. Even then, she might have blown him off already had it not been for his ability to create free publicity. This concert at the White House would be more than enough to satisfy her need for the national stage at the moment, and she’d already decided she’d sit the rest of this current political climate out.

  Things at the national level were becoming too divisive. The whole country, it seemed, had taken a side. And the two sides absolutely hated each other. Ruby didn’t care much which side was right, only that she had artists on both sides of the divide. As long as Goblin Records as a whole kept from stating a clear position, she’d continue to have customers on both sides of the political divide.

  She’d stand beside Prather today, loudly denounce him the next time he did something publicly asinine, and then wash her hands of anything that so much as smacked of politics until well after the next election. It would be better for everyone this way. Loki surely wouldn’t ask her for favors where the President was concerned--to hear Prather talk, the two weren’t even on speaking terms at the moment. And Jaccob would surely be glad to hear her declare that she’d given Prather his very last chance to be a decent human being and that she was through dealing with him. Yes, that little strategy would work out nicely on all fronts.

  But they had to get through this concert first.

  The decision to hold the spectacle on the North Lawn had been Ruby’s alone. Her insistence that she be able to come and go from the White House via helicopter precluded having crowds amass on the much larger South Lawn. The only access via chopper was to the Ellipse off the South Lawn, and they couldn’t well be trying to land in the middle of a crowd of spectators. But Ruby had fought with the D.C. traffic on her prior visit to the White House, and she was not about to do that again. The concert would be on the North Lawn, she’d declared flatly, or there wouldn’t be a concert.

  The Secret Service had objected rather strongly to this plan. Security concerns, they’d insisted; the North Lawn faced out to Pennsylvania Avenue, and any events held there would be visible to the uninvited public. This, it had been explained most emphatically by the security liaison, was unacceptable. But Ruby knew she’d have Prather on her side were this quarrel to go to the mat, and she knew he’d rather compromise the security of the concert than have Ruby pull the plug on it altogether. She’d won that fight easily.

  The more difficult conflict to resolve had been the one with Jaccob over whether or not he’d be accompanying her to the show. He despised Prather, detested the man both personally and politically. Getting him to agree to being seen in public beside someone he abhorred so voraciously had been an argument she almost hadn’t won. Ruby had never missed her magic more than in the most heated of their exchanges about the White House concert. She’d never come close to losing an argument before, and she’d had no idea how to deal with it. Had he not capitulated eventually, she feared she’d have gone quite mad with the experience. Fortunately for all involved, she’d finally won him over.

  Or, rather, her angle of attack had won him over. She’d never had any compunction about using whatever leverage she had to get a person to come around to her way of thinking, and her relationship with Jaccob Stevens, although unique in a number of ways, was no exception to this. All it took to finally get him to agree was to remind him of his son’s part in the whole thing.

  Not only would Mike Stevens be included in the concert lineup, his first single "If Tomorrow," would open the show. And he was also invited to join the all-star cast on stage for the Young Dudes’ grand finale--she’d even given him a solo. The song would be recorded live, pushed through production immediately, and released as an exclusive online single the next day. Being able to be present for both his son’s debut performance as a professional rock musician, as well as the recording of his first released single, was enough to talk Jaccob into coming along. He did warn her he was likely to curse the name of the sitting President with every breath, a behavior that Ruby asked only that he please refrain from in the vicinity of a live microphone.

  Jaccob, whose public blunders had almost never been of the verbal variety, had laughed at her admonition, but had promised to try his best.

  The flight from Cob
alt City to Washington took scarcely longer than an hour and a half, time that Ruby and Jaccob spent on her Gulfstream’s leather sofa debating the merits of various brands of private and corporate jets. She’d chosen to fly down alone with Jaccob in the smaller plane, rather than join the artists on Goblin Records’ triple-seven jet liner. The performers had to get to D.C. early for rehearsals and press appearances and things Ruby didn’t care to bother with. She had people she paid handsomely to handle those sorts of details these days, and she would much rather spend her morning lounging comfortably in her penthouse than crammed aboard an airliner with her underlings.

  She’d also much rather be able to go straight to the show without having to deal with managing concert preparations. She’d learned over the time she’d been at the head of the company that even the most qualified professionals tended to defer to her when she was present. And while advantageous in the vein of seeing to it that her vision was always executed correctly, it often led to her being asked to micromanage situations wherein she just didn’t give a damn.

  And this was one of those times when she just didn’t give a damn.

  The White House concert would happen just fine without her there to give orders at rehearsal. She was more than happy to let the people she hired handle things. All the better not to run her stockings nor muss her coif before the cameras rolled. She’d been sure to give the supervising director the instruction to get plenty of "candid" shots of her with Jaccob. And she’d given very explicit orders to the video editor to include the most adorable of them in the final cut. She wanted to make sure she looked her absolute best for national television.