by Tara Brown
His words don't make me feel better, at all. Partly because he’s right.
Henry stops the car on the side of the road where Dorian is standing, looking annoyed. Marcus doesn't get out of the car, he just smiles and says, “This is where I leave you.” There is something else in his voice, pain perhaps.
I lean in and kiss directly next to his mouth, whispering, “You don't fool me, Marcus. You are the best man I have ever known.” I pull back and mutter. “See ya round, Grampy.”
Henry’s lips pull back into a smile and I get out of the car.
Dorian rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you agreed to train. You are far superior to every Rose Lorri currently has.”
I touch his arm and when we land I lose my breakfast everywhere on the cement. I cough and gag and shudder. “Why isn’t this shit getting easier?”
“It will.” I can hear the laugh in his voice.
We walk through the alley and inside of the tall building. He leans against the wall and presses the button for the floor with the dorms and common room. “You excited?”
“We both know I don't need to be here—like you said, I’m superior already. I’m only doing this so it can’t ever be said I wasn't trained.” I scowl.
“Who would dare question such a powerful witch?”
I step inside and sigh. “Landry. He hates it that I’m always on top.”
Dorian leans into me, smelling my neck. “I would never complain about you being on top.”
“I know. You don't even complain when I smell like vomit all the time.”
He chuckles and kisses my neck. “I have a thing for elevators, want to make it stop and have a quick—”
“NO!”
I’m nearly running from his sexy ass when we get to the common room. Everyone smiles at me, for the first time ever. I’m not a freak, just a witch with a whole lotta fae going on inside of her. But I don't have vampire to add to the mix, making everyone uncomfortable.
Dorian slings an arm around my shoulders and smiles. “Ahhhh to be the new kid on the block again.”
I give him a smug look. “You’re older than Methuselah’s goat. Don't try to pretend like you know how it feels to be here.”
“I’ll not have you besmirch Methuselah, the mighty Methuselah, nor his goat. Both noble creatures.”
“The fact you recall the man proves my point.”
He snorts. “Haven’t you heard that older men make better lovers?”
“No.”
He kisses my hand and walks away muttering, “It’s true.” He takes one more step and vanishes.
Daniel comes around the corner as Dorian disappears. He gives me a smile. “You must be Lorelei!”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
He holds a hand out and introduces me to the common room before leading me on my third tour of the Roses headquarters.
A week later I am fully ingrained again and exhausted from all the magic they’re making me do. I’m exhausted and in need of a little reprieve. My heart is still a battered mess and I can’t shake the hateful feelings inside of me about Angie’s death.
I find Lorri in Daniel’s office and knock on the door. She looks up, giving me a look. “What?”
“Can I get a ride to Lydia’s for the weekend?”
Daniel looks like he might say no but Lorri walks to me, touches me and I’m dry heaving on the grass in front of the old house at the end of the street.
She’s gone again instantly, leaving me there to gather myself.
Annabelle comes out the front door, without opening it, smiling and waving. “I be wondering when we see ya again, Miss Lorelei.”
I shudder from the vomit-filled twitching that has overwhelmed me and walk up to the front door. She hugs me, walking to the door. “I’m so excited you remember me, Miss Annabelle. I was so scared I would have to try to make you see me.”
She scoffs. “Lordy, child. Of course. I don't miss nothing. Now ya come on inside.” She leads me to the closed door and walks me into it. I smack my face, stumbling back. She laughs, shaking her head. “I always forgets dat y’all can’t walk through.”
I rub my head and open the door, following her down the dark hallway. In the kitchen Lydia scowls when she sees me. “What in the—”
Annabelle sighs. “Ya done met her. It was another life den but ya knows her.”
Lydia takes my hand and sighs. “Oh dear. Henry’s granddaughter. I was wondering when we would meet you.”
I scowl. “You knew all along I was Henry’s kin?”
She shrugs. “I know now so I must have known then too. Whenever it is you’re talking about.”
“Figures.” I nod.
She pulls out a chair for me as Annabelle makes a sweet tea, just the way I like it. I slump into the chair, feeling defeated and tired.
“What brings you by?”
I lay my head on her table and let everything fall from my lips. “I’m sad. The kind that seeps in like a dense fog and takes over everything. I can’t get over it. My best friend died, no matter how hard I tried to right all the wrongs. I keep reliving the same fifty years, three times now, and I can’t make it perfect. Either people die or people become monsters they don't wanna be or get forced to become Roses when all they want is a normal life. I can’t seem to shake the feeling like I failed her and I failed everyone. And I know I gotta go back in another fifty years and repeat this whole life again so I can try to save Angie. And in some ways I’m tired. I’m just real tired and not in the mood to relive this same bullshit all over again.”
She puts a hand on my back and rubs like a mother would. “You need to stop trying to save everyone, Lorelei. I don't know the story you have, but I can see one thing about you—your spirit is weak and tired because you are putting everyone else first. You need to stop and let God’s plan work. He has a plan, him and Mother Earth and the fates. They all have a plan. You have to let go and let God do his work sometimes.”
I shake my head. “I brought all the bad into their lives. Me. I brought Martin, Marcus, Lorri, Whit, and even Momma is partly my doing.”
Annabelle places the glass of tea next to me and sighs, “Child, ya can’t control other people. Ya can’t control dem choices dey make. Ya gotta choose for you. Be happy so dey can look down on ya and know ya living for dem too.”
I close my eyes and rain blackwater all over her table as tears flood my eyes.
“Now you come and let Annabelle take you for a bath.”
I lift my sobbing head from the table and let her lead me upstairs, carrying with me my sweet tea and heavy heart.
Chapter Nineteen
Romania is as creepy as I imagined, worse actually. Not only is there a ton of spooky vampire legends and castles, there is also a communist government and poverty like I have never seen. My months of Roses training can’t prepare me for the horrors I see here. Not even if you combine all three times I’ve been trained.
The Securitate are scarier than any monster I have ever seen. No vampire or werewolf or demon could beat the secret police over here. I hand over a wad of cash, discreetly, to the old nun and walk away.
“Stop giving money to them. It won’t help. If they get caught they'll be killed for stealing.” Dorian rolls his eyes at me.
I shake my head. “No. I won’t. I have to try. I don't know what else to do. Look at those kids— they’re so hungry and skinny. I ain’t never seen kids that small.”
We walk down the dark alley to the building we both smell out. He gives me the nod. He vanishes and I walk up to the door, knocking and adjusting my boobs.
A man, with a greasy smile to match his greasy hair, opens the door and smiles at me. He says something in Romanian that I don't understand. I nod once.
He scowls. I pull the ad from the newspaper and show him. His lips lift higher, he looks like the joker. He grabs my arm and pulls me inside, slamming the door.
My stomach is lifting into my throat and my palms are sweating, but I smile inside, knowing he�
��s going to be dead in two minutes.
He pushes me through the hallway. It smells like blood, death, and sex. I hate vampires. I hate them.
Except Gwen. Her, I love. I know she’s inside, waiting for me, as a client. We were reunited after she had been detained and questioned. We trained together this last few months, and when I requested her for England, Lorri agreed she was a good fit.
The man walks me past a desk with other men. They leer and I want to stab their eyes out with my fingernails but I don’t. I bat my lashes and smile as sweet and Southern as I can.
One man reaches over, touching my neck. He can’t smell the witchy magic on me. I’ve made a cloak that prevents them from seeing me for what I am. His calloused hand runs down my neck into my cleavage. He runs his fingers up and down it, sliding them between my breasts. He nods and gives the other man a thumbs up. They all laugh and talk over each other, very fast and aggressive.
Suddenly a beautiful girl with long lashes and her fangs hanging out over her lips, comes to the top of the stairs in the massive lobby. She smiles at me seductively and shouts something coarse at them.
The man pushes me and shouts, pointing at the beautiful girl—not knowing she’s my best friend. I look as scared as I can and glance about the room uncertainly. She shouts at me, waving a hand. I climb the stairs, stopping just short of the last one, wincing when she grabs my arm and drags me up the next stair. She grabs my face and plants the naughtiest kiss ever on my lips. The men below cheer. She mutters, “The hall is full. Room by room from the back.” I nod, pulling my face from hers. She backhands me, striking like a viper. The men cheer again. As she drags me down the hall, their voices echo off the wallpapered hallway. When we get to the first room I grip the doorknob, unlocking it with magic and casting a silencing spell as I enter. I don't see the gore or the girls or the horror shows inside. I block those out. I learned that the first time I saw blood-brothel torture in Whit’s dungeon. It sounds like sex and it looks like sex, but when the girl dies, it ceases to be sex. When the girl is compelled to like it, it ceases to be consensual. I don't like to see either of those things. The memory of Inger and Ollie is burned into my heart and soul. I can never be free of the images, but I can spare myself the next ones.
I see only his eyes. They grow wide as Gwen grabs the girl, compelling her to be silent and to go home, out the back door. I see his eyes get dark as I slam him against the wall and unleash every bit of angry vengeance upon him I can muster.
We hit each room this way. Dorian is in the back, clearing the way for the trail of girls who leave. He clears their minds and lets them go, free of what they have lived through. Several rooms have girls who cannot be saved. They are dead or dying, and to the point it is a kinder fate to close their eyes for them.
When we get back to the stairs, Gwen is covered in black blood and I am covered in hate. I don't mean to let it get to me but I can’t stop myself.
The men in the lobby are back to playing cards and drinking. Gwen leaps from the second floor, clearing the stairs and landing hard on one guy’s throat, taking him to the ground. I float down, buzzing with electricity. I pin a guy to the wall as Gwen guts another. A man grabs for me but I use air to fire back at him.
His screams are music to my ears. I adore the pain they are all in.
Dorian comes up behind us, grabbing the men and sucking each of their souls rapidly. He can do it slowly or not. In a crowd like this one he’s fast and efficient.
When we are done and the blood bath is over, he sighs. “God they taste good.”
Gwen shakes her head. “We’re finding more and more of these places. We have to stop this, it’s sick.”
“If I were you I’d feel better knowing that my brothers and father weren’t alone in their perversion,” Dorian shrugs. Sometimes he’s such an ass.
Her eyes narrow. “Funny, I don't feel better.”
He laughs and slaps her on the back. He winks us back to London. I have overcome the dizziness and nausea. Only took a million winky travels but I got it.
Gwen nods at the common room. “Want to get a drink?”
I shake my head. “No. Say hi to Landry for me, and make sure he went to Germany and found that coven that's taking the babies.”
She nods. “I think that's tomorrow’s job for him.”
I cock an eyebrow. She lifts her hands. “Sorry, right? I’ll make sure he went and found them. Jeesh. Don't go all Lorri on me.”
It makes me smile. That, and the fact Landry is still pissed I’m his boss. I don't think he’ll ever get over being passed over for promotion. But Lorri follows a strict law she swears by. Give the power to the person who wants it the least, never the one who wants it the most.
She waves at me as she walks inside. “Whatever it is you’re going off to do, don’t.”
She knows me too well. Far too well.
Dorian gives me a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I offer him my hand. “You headed back to the US?”
He nods.
“Can you drop me off on your way?”
His eyes narrow but he takes my hand.
When I’m standing outside of the huge mansion, Dorian shakes his head. “You sure?”
“Yup. I owe him one.”
He grimaces and he’s gone. Henry answers the door, cocking an eyebrow. Not the sort of greeting you expect from your granddaddy. I offer a simple wave but he shakes his head and turns back inside, leaving the door open. I hurry inside of the house and down the hall. Marcus has the most beautiful artwork I’ve ever seen. There is one painting I love the most. It’s him, Dorian, and Blue Eyes all standing outside of a house. The painting is during the Renaissance and the house is so beautiful it makes me want to be there so bad. The life looks simple.
Ain’t none of us ever gonna have that.
That's a fact I’ve come to live with.
I hurry into a bedroom, one I have used before but not the one with the obsidian devil rock door. I stand in the middle and call the corners, flashing glamour around the room. I create a set of seats on one side, vanish the bed and furniture, replacing it with a stage and pole. I darken the windows and add lights to the ceiling so they dance around the room like a nightclub.
I add one mirrored disco ball to the middle of the room. I spin in a circle until I can feel the right clothes there and the blood-soaked ones gone.
I snap my fingers to start a song there is no way he will forget from the 2000s—“Dirrty” by Christina Aguilera. I turn the volume up by spinning my finger. Then I look at the dark wooden table he will be sitting at and snap my fingers again. A stack of one-dollar bills make a pile next to a glass of scotch and a lit Cuban cigar in a dish. I hurry to the curtain at the back of the room and blow three girls to life. One is a blonde with the longest legs ever seen in a sailor girl’s costume. Second, is a brunette with bit of meat on her bones; she’s fit and thick and mocha skinned in an army outfit but for strippers. Thirdly, is a redhead with a curvy body with a belly-dancing outfit. Each is dressed exactly right.
“WHAT IN THE HELL—” He storms in shouting. I can see his face through the curtain. It’s like a double mirror. He pauses and looks around. “If this is a trap I’m going to be very disappointed.” He sits at the table with the money and lifts the cigar to his lips. He can’t smell me. The cloak is still protecting me so I know he has no clue who is doing this. He even looks a bit uneasy. I almost giggle.
I slap the blonde on the ass. She heads out onto the stage, dancing and stripping to the song. She is very good at what she does, dancing and twirling around the pole. I make certain they don’t do as good a job as I have been practicing. I don't need to be shown up by my own magic.
He’s smiling and drinking his scotch, nodding his head with her long legs. The song switches to “I’m A Slave 4 U” by Brittany Spears. A grin comes across his face as the redhead comes out, belly dancing. The blonde flits off the stage, vanishing on the other side of the room. The redhead
’s perfect body shakes, captivating him. He’s adjusting in his seat as her voluptuous parts wiggle just for him.
He swallows hard as the brunette comes out, marching. She stands at attention and then rips most of her clothing off. She and the redhead pretend to tussle a little before the brunette bends her over and gives her a few good hard slaps across the ass. The redhead moans in delight and wiggles her ass. Marcus is clapping, throwing money and grinning with the cigar in his teeth.
The girls run off the stage and I turn the volume up a touch as I change the music to “Little Red Riding Hood” by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs. The wolf howls and I start to walk onto the stage in my red cloak and basket. I drop the basket and leap onto the pole, spinning and sliding down it with my legs in the air. His jaw drops, as does his cigar. He freezes. I hang upside down on the pole, unclasping the cloak and letting it drop. All I have on is a red bra, red underwear, and red thigh-high nylons attached to garters with the biggest silver heels I can manage in.
He leans forward as I slip around and start dancing again, using the pole and showing him my moves. The smile on his face is worth the hours of effort I have put into this, actually learning and not just using my magic.
I dance to the front of the stage and slide the bra straps down, and he nods his head. I snap my fingers and it vanishes.
I turn around, hiding my breasts, like I’m shy. Until I bend over and let them hang, snapping my fingers again and sending the underwear into oblivion. He’s off the chair and sliding across the stage before I can even stand up. He grabs my ass, running his hand up and down my back as he pulls his cock out. I can tell he wants his prize but I’m not done giving. I turn quickly, sliding out of his hands and dropping to my knees. Sam the Sham’s song ends so I snap my fingers and Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” starts playing.
I grab his cock and bury it in my throat. His hands drop down into my hair, gripping to it as I cup his balls and suck using my tongue on his shaft and head. He’s moaning and thrusting. I drag him down to the floor, still working his cock but changing my angle to lower my pussy onto his face and sixty-nine with him. He licks my hole before he pushes a finger inside. I moan into his thick cock.