The Naughty List

by L. A. Kelley

  “Sorry,” sneered Rosalie. “I missed the memo.” Who was this person? How dare she come in here and tell her she couldn’t see David any more. She hadn’t known Ms. Jankowski long, but the temptation to wham her on the head with Marissa’s stapler grew exponentially. “I don’t know anything about these formal procedures,” she exploded angrily, “and I don’t care. You can’t come in here and dictate—”

  Ms. Jankowski raised her eyebrow. “He said you had a temper.”

  Rosalie’s heart dropped. Did David send her? After last night did he get second thoughts about becoming involved with a human? Was this his way of breaking up? Her mouth felt like sandpaper. He wouldn’t. Not like this. “W-Who?” she croaked out.

  “The Baal.”

  Rosalie suddenly knew what it meant to see red. She had a vision of Dominic Schiller’s body parts strewn all over Marissa’s tidy office. It made her happy.

  Ms. Jankowski continued, “The Baal filed an official report last night with our investigatory branch in New York concerning your unauthorized relationship. It’s all explained quite clearly in Subsection 4a. Once proper procedural formats are reinstituted, you and the Integral Kloss may resume romantic overtures. If you have any questions feel free to call my office any time during normal business hours. For your convenience, I enclosed my card.”

  She smoothed down her perfectly coiffed hair. “I understand your impatience, Ms. Thatcher, but you need to take this seriously. Rules are meant for a purpose and breaking them has consequences.” For an instant, the cupid’s expression softened. “However, statistical analysis shows in an acceptable number of human-integral pair-bondings, coitus is achieved in a not unreasonable length of time. Certainly, long before your ovaries are no long capable of producing a fertile egg.” She snapped the briefcase shut with a decisive click. “Good day, Ms. Thatcher.” Unlike David who simply vanished, Ms. Jankowski disappeared in a poof of pink smoke.

  Rosalie clenched the scroll. “Arrgh!” she bellowed.

  “Eeep,” came a strangled yelp from the doorway. Marissa stood white-faced clutching a take-out tray with two cups of coffee. “I thought…coffee…drink…but lady…poof.”

  “Yeah.” Rosalie took the tray from her. “Some of them do that.”

  Marissa staggered across the office on wobbly legs and collapsed in the desk chair. “You told me. I said I believed you. I kinda did, but really didn’t because what you said was nuts.” She grinned weakly. “Now, I totally do.”

  Rosalie patted her hand sympathetically. “I understand completely. I had the same first reaction.” She handed her a cup of coffee. “We really should drink something stiffer.”

  Marissa cradled the hot drink in her hands. “So what did, I can’t believe I’m saying this, Cupid want?”

  “Ms. Jankowski was not the Cupid. She was merely a cupid section chief for Southeast Regional Precinct Three,” Rosalie said and filled her in on the cease and desist order.

  “Damn,” Marissa muttered, “that’s harsh. What will you do?”

  “Call David for one thing.”

  “Good luck.” Marissa leaned back in her chair and took a steadying sip of coffee. “Give me a heads up if the Tooth Fairy plans to stop by.”

  Rosalie tried to call David several times during the day, but only got a message the call could not be completed. Don’t panic, she told herself. It’s only solar flares screwing with cell tower transmissions.

  After work, she bounded up the stairs to her apartment carrying the scroll. The prickle of worry building during the day now poked with a constant jab. As she unlocked the door, a delicious aroma wafted into the hallway, and her spirits instantly lifted. She relaxed. Wait until David heard what happened. He’d get such a laugh…

  Grace looked up from stirring a pot on the stove. “Hi, Rosalie.”

  Uh-oh. The jabbing pain returned. “Um, hi. Where’s David?”

  “He and Brian dashed-away me in and then I sent them both home. His father is trying his best right now to convince David not to challenge Dominic to a blood duel. Trust me, it’s better not to be in their company at the present. They’re both using very colorful language concerning the Baal. Did you know Brian curses in fluent ancient Norse?”

  “Grace…?”

  “Sit. I thought the situation should be discussed as one human gal to another. I made chili while I waited. It’s darn good if I do say so myself. Have some.”

  Rosalie politely declined. “Uh, Grace, what is going on?”

  “Welcome to the Medieval Ages.” Grace held out her hand for the scroll. She untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment along the length of the table. “The standard order covering the Lover’s Edict,” she murmured. “Who delivered it?”

  “Natalie Jankowski.”

  Grace shook her head. “Never understood why cupids are such tight asses.”

  Rosalie swallowed back the taut knot of fear in her stomach. “Does this mean I can’t see David anymore?”

  Grace reached over and squeezed her hand. “The circumstances aren’t as grim as that, but the order complicates things.” She tapped the scroll. “The wardens mandated the Lover’s Edict hundreds of years ago as human-Integral mating became the norm rather than the exception. In reality they enacted the decree to protect humans more than Integrals. Many of the early sexual relationships were not exactly consensual, if you catch my drift. They caused more than one bloody altercation, bad for both sides. The wardens passed a bunch of laws to prevent further mayhem.”

  “But we’re consensual,” Rosalie blurted out and then flushed bright red. “I mean we will be…if we…you know.”

  Grace smiled warmly. “No need to go in to details. You and David are both over twenty-one and, beside, Brian and I think you’re great which meets the first qualification.”

  “Qualification?”

  “Here.” She tapped a section near the bottom. “Hidden in the fine print is a list of all the requirements for a relationship to progress, starting with the approval of the parents. The scroll contains lots of others, I’m afraid, mostly concerning duties and responsibilities of humans involved with Integrals.”

  Rosalie gaped at the long paragraph filled with legal whys and wherefores. “Did you suffer through all this?”

  Grace’s jaw tightened. “No, and you shouldn’t either. Integrals are cautious by nature and they’re not stupid. They have the nhey this?eed for secrecy drilled into them from birth. They start romantic relationships slowly making certain partners can handle the truth. Of course, you and David met under exceptional circumstances, but you accepted Integral existence and earned respect for your defense of The Book. The truth is, Rosalie, most Integrals take a casual approach to the old edict. Brian and I certainly did. Frankly, few bother with the formal application, but,” she sighed, “The Lover’s Edict is still legal, valid, and binding. Once an infraction is called to the attention of the cupids, they are honor-bound to enforce the restrictions imposed on a couple. Hence the ancient Nordic cursing from my husband and the quest for a blood duel from my son.”

  “Why does the Baal care about us?” Rosalie demanded. “Doesn’t he have more important things on his mind?”

  “In reality, I think the affair with Anthony rattled Dominic. He’s lost touch with his own clan. His uncle is the champion of the old guard and puts pressure on Dominic to maintain the status quo. They see the unquestioned authority of the wardens and the clan lords slipping away. They don’t realize it’s already gone. The laws simply haven’t kept pace. Ancient ways should be adapted to a modern life. The Lover’s Edict is one of the laws Brian wants amended. We need new guidelines in place to help Integrals blend safely into a human world without all the medieval nonsense. Until we do…” She eyed Rosalie sympathetically.

  “David and I put up with the medieval nonsense. What happens if we don’t?”

  Grace looked suddenly uncomfortable. “David would be banished, forbidden contact with all Integrals.”

  “Including hi
s family?” The look in the woman’s eyes told her everything. Rosalie drew herself up in a huff. I’ll be damned if I let that happen. David and I have a right to fall in love—no matter what obstacles are in the way. “Tell David to stop planning the blood duel. I’m in. What’s the first step?”

  Grace flashed a smile. “You tell him yourself because the next requirement is for you and David to formally plead your case in front of the wardens tonight.”

  Rosalie gulped. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “The sooner you get the formalities over with the better. Don’t worry. Brian and I will support you. So will others.” She whipped out her cell phone and made a brief call. An instant later both Brian and David dashed-away into the apartment.

  David’s face flushed with anger. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe they’re making us go through all this crap.”

  Rosalie put on a brave show. “How bad will it be?”

  David raised an eyebrow. “Did you read the scroll?”

  That didn’t bode well. “Kinda,” she admitted uneasily, “but I didn’t understand everything.”

  “Accepting the Lover’s Edict means constant monitoring by the wardens,” he spat out, “no privacy, everyone butts into our business until they decide to give permission.”

  Brian put a hand on his shoulder. “Ways exist to make life easier while you two get through this. Meanwhile, we should get ready to face the wardens.” He glanced at his wife. “I pulled the raiment you asked for from the vault.”

  Rosalie blinked. “Raiment?”

  Grace nudged her playfully. “I did say you had to formally plead your case.”

  So much for the show of bravery. Panic crawled up Rosalie’s throat. “I don’t own any raiment, only a couple of nice dresses I bought on clearancht hate.”

  Brian winked. “Don’t worry. The Kloss family owns raiment out the wazoo.”

  He grasped his wife. David pulled Rosalie into a tight embrace and the four of them dashed-away to New York. Grace immediately slipped her arm through Rosalie’s and ushered her to a guest room. Shoved against the wall sat a wooden antique chest decorated with an ornate diamond encrusted S. More precious gems studded the metal edging bands.

  Grace touched the solid gold padlock securing the lid. “Open.” The lock sprung apart and dropped to the floor. She grinned at Rosalie. “Nice part about being a Kloss is you never need a key.”

  The chest’s interior revealed a stunning assortment of rich fabrics and buttery soft leathers, not at all what Rosalie imagined. The clothing carried a wild dare-she-say feral look. Kloss women didn’t spend much time in the kitchen baking gingerbread. Rosalie ran her fingers across a silvery chainmail vest not simply decorative. Grace dug down deep and pulled out a crimson leather bustier embroidered in gold runes and studded with pearls.

  “Wow.”

  “Hot stuff, right?” Grace chuckled. “Integrals had a savage past.” She held the bustier up to Rosalie. “I think this will do nicely.”

  “It’s gorgeous, but…” She eyed the piece with skepticism.

  “Too sexy? My advice is to knock the wardens’ socks off. Integrals respect courage. An outfit like this says you’re totally confident and not afraid of anything.” Grace gave her a comforting pat and then excused herself to change.

  Rosalie pawed through the chest. She found raiment galore, all right, along with a decorative case filled with jewels and a dagger in a ruby studded sheath. She held the knife up in awe, knowing her hand gripped a small fortune.

  Knock their socks off, eh?

  Rosalie put aside the bustier then selected a long velvet skirt, slit up to the thigh, decorated with more pearls. A matching velvet cape trimmed in fur joined the pile. Last, she pulled out a pair of hand-tooled high heeled lace-up boots made of some kind of reptile hide. She rejected all of the jewels and instead wore only David’s necklace which meant more than anything to her.

  Rosalie stripped down. To her disappointment, the bustier was too big.

  “What the hell?”

  She let out a sputtering squeak as the bodice tightened up, conforming to all the curves of her body, lifting and tucking better than a board certified plastic surgeon. Cautiously, she slipped on the skirt. Of its own accord, the material settled low and snug on the hips, the hem immediately adjusted to a perfect length. The boots fit like a second skin. She flapped her arms around like a spooked chicken trying to maintain her balance as the heels rose and lowered until settling on an acceptable height. The clothes now felt tailored solely for her body. Her lips twisted in a grin. A little E.L.F. magic goes a long way.

  With Grace’s advice ringing in her ears, for a final touch she tucked the dagger into a gold sheath strapped to her wrist. “Not afraid of anything,” Rosalie murmured.

  Now, for the reveal. She took a deep breath, turned around, and eyed herself in the full length mirror. Rosalie gawked at the transformation. Unconsciously, her shoulders squared. She not only looked like a barbarian queen, damn it, she felt like one, too.

  A soft tap sounded at the door. “Rosalie?” David called. “Are you ready?” Nervously she smoothed down her skirt and let him in. David’s mouth dropped open. He eyed her up a ey"jund down. “Wow. You look amazing.”

  She flushed with pleasure. “You look pretty good yourself.” David wore a tight leather doublet the same crimson leather as Rosalie’s, decorated with gold runes. They glowed faintly as he moved. Strapped at his waist was a short sword with scabbard, held in place by a leather belt with a gold buckle. Gold bands bordered with emeralds and more of the mysterious runes encircled each wrist. The cape slung across his broad shoulders was made of the same fur-trimmed velvet as Rosalie’s.

  He offered his arm and led her into the living room where Brian and Grace waited, both dressed in deep forest green and brown leather. Grace donned a long off-the-shoulder dress. She grinned at the sight of Rosalie’s dagger and lifted her hem to show off one tucked into her high-heeled boot. Brian’s outfit was similar in style to David’s except he and Grace also sported ornately jeweled diadems. After all, he was the Santa, head of the clan E.L.F. Brian eyed Langbor’s necklace and kissed Rosalie on the cheek. “I approve.”

  “So do I,” echoed Grace. “Selka’s clothes are lovely on you.”

  “Selka?”

  Grace’s eyes twinkled impishly. “She was Langbor’s wife. You’re wearing her wedding outfit. In hindsight, giving her the dagger as a wedding present was a huge mistake I’m certain Langbor later regretted. By the way, family myth says the clothes only fit women with Selka’s approval.”

  Rosalie relaxed. She wore the duds of an uppity human who never let an Integral intimidate her. She imagined Selka shouting a rousing Ooh rah! in her ear. “Now what?” she asked.

  “We go to the wardens’ chamber, and you plead your case,” answered Brian. “They’ll ask questions to determine your fitness. I warn you, they are allowed get as personal as they want, and Dominic will try to rattle you. If the wardens approve the request, you and David will have to agree to their rules.”

  Rosalie’s heart beat wildly as the dash-away kicked in. A moment later they stood in the waiting area outside the conference room. A crowd packed the hall, more so than last time. Nobody, but nobody wore a New York designer label. She tried hard not to gawk at the wild assortment of jewels, fur, leather, silk, and armament. She recognized a few of the people. Sadhri was decked out in a gold breast plate studded with precious gems. She carried not just one sword strapped to her back, but two. Billy and the other members of his pack stood nearby wearing black leather with diamond studded dog collars. They also had black capes, held in place with a silver clasp of a snarling hound’s head. The ruby eyes glowed brilliant red.

  Without a sound, the door to the great hall opened wide. The crowd backed up and separated into two lines facing each other, a silent gauntlet leading straight from Rosalie to the wardens.

  “You have to go first,” David whispered. He kissed her
hand. “Rosalie, if you don’t want to do this, we’ll leave right now. I’ll understand.”

  She covered his lips with her fingers. Maybe her attitude could be attributed to all the leather. Maybe the dagger at her wrist gave her courage. Maybe the coin from a drunken forest deity encircling her neck had a magic all its own. Rosalie’s fears drifted away. David was hers. They belonged together. If building a relationship meant becoming part of this costume drama so be it. Besides, she looked damned good in this kick-ass bustier. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  Relief flooded through him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Without hesitation she stepped forwa st.”

  rd.

  As she passed Sadhri, the shiva drew a sword. For an instant, Rosalie’s heart stopped until Sadhri saluted and barked. “Give’m hell.” The hellhounds led by Billy let out a howl of approval. As she marched through the gauntlet other Integrals followed suit.

  She caught the eye of Malcolm the dryad in a toga. “You go, girl!” he shouted.

  Confidence soaring, Rosalie entered the chamber with David and his parents right behind her. The wardens also wore their finery. Stephen Lundberg sported a horned helmet encrusted with emeralds. The Baal wore silver chainmail over a black leather jerkin. He had a crown too, but made entirely of flames. For an instant Rosalie faltered. Dominic eyed her dismissively.

  Selka would spit in his eye. She swallowed her fear and glared back.

  The Odin motioned to Rosalie to step forward. David, Brian, and Grace positioned themselves behind her. Rosalie’s heart pounded wildly waiting for spectators to be seated. The gallery was standing room only before the large chamber doors swung closed on silent hinges.

  “State your name for the record,” boomed the Odin.

  “Rosalie Thatcher.”

  “Rosalie Thatcher, are you here to make formal application in accordance with the Lover’s Edict?”