The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Heather Hildenbrand

  She snorted. “You already know where I live, or at least what city I live in, and it’s nowhere near Rashin.”

  We stepped outside, the cool air washing over us like a balm. The mist scuttled over the ground, and the last few chords of a haunting melody were sung by the band.

  I placed a kiss on Ariya’s temple and whispered, “I’ll find you.”

  The night sky exploded with gold and red stars, and we both looked up. I breathed in the cool air, catching a hint of Ariya’s sunshine scent, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the moment.

  I opened my eyes as blistering heat rolled over me, and the stench of seared meat and charred wood made my stomach clench. Saliva filled my mouth, and I gagged, turning to the side to spit the bile. My eyes burned from the thick smoke, and I coughed, bringing my arm up to cover my nose. My other arm now hung to the side in the empty air.

  “What the freezing stones?” Synam grunted as he sidled up to me. “I thought we’d lost you there for a bit, Jäg.” He elbowed me in the side. “I’m glad to see you. What a night, eh, son?”

  We stood in the middle of the remains of Datti, and I swallowed back the revulsion crawling through my chest. I nodded, unable to even formulate words at the horror surrounding us.

  The entire city was gone—only smoking, blackened dirt and the charred edges of decimated buildings remained.

  The End – For Now

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  Chameleon

  By Jane Washington

  Chapter One

  “A week ago, my life changed completely. I was standing in the hallway of a fanger club—owned by some off-shore vampire investor, draped in sin, full of supernaturals, you know the kind—and then boom. It happened. Someone bumped into me and this little slip of silver paper emerged, fluttering down into my hands with all the mystery of how my grandmother manages to drink half a bottle of scotch and still notice when I’m texting under the table.”

  The woman that I was speaking to made a movement, as though to say something. I silenced her with a cutting motion of my hand. Ok, not really. The gag was what silenced her: the cutting motion of my hand was just for fun.

  “This is my backstory,” I reminded her. “Don’t be selfish.”

  She didn’t reply, so I continued. “Anyway, the slip had said something about a ball, the witching hour, an invitation ... blah blah blah. It wasn’t important at the time because I was there on a job, and as I mentioned before, someone had bumped into me. That’s the thing that changed my life. The person who bumped into me gave me their power—which wasn’t surprising at all, since I’m a Chameleon. That’s what I do. I absorb power. The surprising thing was the type of power that I had absorbed.”

  The woman made another movement, and I paused, narrowing my eyes on her.

  “Seriously?” I asked, crossing my arms. “You really can’t listen to what I have to say, not even for five fucking minutes?”

  She made another restless movement, and I realised that she was trying to scream.

  I shook my head in disappointment. “Gargoyles are the worst kinds of listeners.”

  She shouted something against the gag, but it was lost in the noise that swelled beyond the bushes that hid us. People were gathering before the giant castle, slowly filtering into the warm, music-soaked depths of whatever waited inside. The woman’s garbled shout had sounded like a ‘fuck you,’ but I was going to be the bigger person. Don’t react. Don’t engage. Control your rage. My mother’s mantra echoed inside my head.

  “I could feel it tingling in my arms,” I continued with my story. “The new power. It was some kind of wicked, restless energy, ready to burst out and infect the nearest soul. I don’t remember exactly what I did with the ticket—shoved it into my bra, I think, promising myself that I would read it at some point.” I paused, scoffing. “Okay, in hindsight, that was obviously a lie. But anyway, I wanted to test out my new power, so I reached out, touched the nearest man, and he fainted. Dropped straight to the ground, just like ... this.”

  I reached out, tapped the woman’s shoulder, and she crumpled to a heap on the ground.

  “Best damn day of my life,” I muttered, bending to start wrangling her out of her dress. “The day I got this power. I mean, it’s a little unfortunate that I got the ticket at the same time, or I might have paid attention to the date, and I wouldn’t have been snatched up from my balcony tonight and plopped outside this damn castle in my pajamas, and then I wouldn’t have had to steal your clothes. So ... I guess it’s mostly just unfortunate for you.”

  I pulled off my Care Bears tank, leaving on my matching Care Bears panties. The woman—whose name I didn’t catch before I pulled her behind a bush and gagged her—had been wearing an overly-complicated golden dress. I had managed to slip it over her torso without much trouble, and then quickly down her legs before it could get dirty. I had no chance of lifting her torso to dress her in the tank—on account of my laziness—so I just laid it over her like a tiny little ‘boob blanket’. When I realised that she had only been wearing a tiny golden thong, I slipped my Care Bears panties off and gave her a matching ‘crotch-blanket’. As I pushed the panties down my legs, I noticed a folded slip of silver flutter to the ground. I picked it up, frowning. It was my ticket. The ticket I had left at home, presumably in my laundry basket.

  The woman had been my size, so I assumed that the dress would also be my size. The first layer was a pale gold bodysuit, shaping tightly to the natural curve of my body. I stashed my ticket away at the bottom of my bodysuit, on the outside of my right hip, realising that if it hadn’t been for the second layer, I would have appeared to be wearing nothing at all. The second layer was a fine netting of tiny golden chain-links. It fell all the way to the ground, showing off two thigh-high slits. Usually, gold clashed badly with my colouring, making the bright red of my hair appear garish. This gold, however, was just pale enough to draw the eye without making the eye wish that a fork had been stabbed through it.

  I shook out my hair, giving it that ‘just out of bed—and yanked to a magic castle by a mysterious silver ticket’ look. It would have to do. I slipped out from behind the bushes, stepped into the woman’s golden heels, and approached the front of the castle again with the woman’s ticket in my hand. I didn’t actually need her ticket, I just wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t be able to storm into the party and demand her dress back, because I had no idea how long the fainting spell actually lasted. I edged into the dwindling crowd beside a man in a black tuxedo, casting a quick glance down at the ticket that was supposed to be in my hand, finding my grip empty. What the fuck?

  “Hey,” I nodded to the man beside me, surreptitiously patting down the ticket that should have been hidden in my bodysuit. It was still there. “So ah, you got a ticket, too?”

  He turned and looked down his nose at me. Vampire. Those bastards always smelled of superiority.

  “Of course I got a ticket.” He turned away from me then. Even edged away from me, if I was seeing things correctly.

  “Cool.” I stepped closer. “So ah ... what did it say, exactly?”

  His head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing. “You didn’t get a ticket?” He didn’t even wait for my response before he was looking toward the entrance of the castle, craning his head as though he was about to start shouting IMPOSTER!

  I laughed, holding up my hands. “Easy, vamp. I got a ticket to the fancy party just like you did, though I probably didn’t post mine on Twitter with the hashtag #nobigdeal like you obviously did yours—”

  He sniffed. “I didn’t photograph my ticket.”

  I blinked. “Oh my god, you totally photographed your ticket, didn’t you?”

  “Leave me alone.” He stepped backwards before turning on his heel and heading toward the fog-soaked cover of trees at the other end of the front lawn.

  I turned to the Sc
andinavian-looking couple lingering several paces behind me.

  “My boyfriend,” I explained, stepping toward them and rolling my eyes. “I asked him to save me a place in the line, but when I got here he was all pissy because there wasn’t even a line. Men! What can I do?”

  They didn’t reply—though they shared a look with each other.

  “It’s just really hard,” I continued. “It’s like I talk to him … but he never really listens, you know?” I sniffed, on the verge of tears. They looked uncomfortable. “I just need a hug.” I held out my arms, my lower lip trembling.

  Neither of them made a move, so I just went ahead and gave myself the hug, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around the man, squeezing him just tight enough for my hand to slip into his pocket unnoticed.

  “Get your own date,” the woman spat as her partner tentatively patted my back.

  I drew away, wiping at an invisible tear. “Sorry.” I attempted a smile, but I was just too emotional, so it faltered. I turned, sparing them from my breakdown.

  The rest of the scattered people moved quickly past the two gargoyles admitting entrance. I watched as they reverted back into stone, coming alive only to check the tickets of the next person to pass beneath the high, arched entryway. I glanced at the Scandinavian man’s ticket, frowning as I realised that it had also disappeared.

  I was still frowning and searching for the missing ticket when I reached one of the gargoyles. His black eyes flicked to my hand, which was now wrist-deep up the side of my bodysuit to make sure my original ticket hadn’t also disappeared.

  “Lose something?” he deadpanned.

  “Just my mind … apparently,” I muttered, straightening up and handing him my ticket. “Am I going crazy, or do these tickets have some kind of disappearing enchantment on them?”

  He smirked, but didn’t answer, as though he knew I had been stealing tickets. I quickly brushed past when he waved me inside, slipping off to the side. There was a soft glow penetrating the darkness, so I moved further away from the light, closing my eyes and feeling for the tingle in my arms. It answered immediately, rushing down to my fingertips.

  “Thank fuck,” I murmured.

  I had touched several people on my way into the castle—but I hadn’t accidentally absorbed a new power. I still had the fainting trick. I could control the Chameleon ability for the most part, but never with magic that I hadn’t encountered before. Vamps were a dime a dozen in the circles I frequented. I was a hunter-for-hire, available to the highest bidder, my only limits being children and cute things, like puppies. People could laugh at that rule all they wanted, but more than one rich supernatural aristocrat had attempted to hire me to find their lost house-pet, and that just wasn’t my style. Vamps seemed to have a taste for my expensive services, so it was mostly other vamps that I found myself running with. Even so, there was always a chance that I could accidentally bump into someone when my emotions were running high, or even if I had the flu, and then all bets were off. Most people avoided work when they had a cold so that they wouldn’t get other people sick. I avoided work when I had a cold so that I wouldn’t accidentally turn into a vampire. Once had been enough.

  “Thank fuck for what?” a voice asked, causing my head to whip to the side.

  There was a man leaning against the exact same pillar that I was leaning against. Either I hadn’t noticed him, or he had crept up on me. I assessed him out of the corner of my eye: he was wearing a black V-neck beneath a tightly-fitted suit jacket. Dark pants, suede shoes, and thin leather bands around his wrists completed the outfit. He was a giant of a specimen, with dirty blond hair tied into an elaborate braid that fell halfway down his back, black metal rings clamped around several parts of the braid, the sides of his head shaved completely. The visible parts of his skull had been decorated with fading black tattoos. Birds, ships, a mermaid, and what looked like an actual map. His eyes were a velvety, deep blue, wrapping around me and pulling me into a dark, blank space that sent chills all the way to my toes.

  Holy shit.

  I knew exactly who this man was.

  Torstein Alva.

  He popped in and out of my ‘to-do list’ like a never-ending plague, but I could never track him down. If I managed to drag him out of the castle with me, I would be looking at almost fifty-thousand dollars of bounty money. He was my motherlode. A fortune, leaning up against the pillar beside me.

  Play it cool, Isa. Play it cool.

  “Don’t touch me, demon.” The words slipped out of me before I could stop them, and I was sure that he caught my cringe.

  He laughed, flashing a row of pearly white teeth that somehow managed to look dangerous. “I’m not a demon.”

  He wasn’t exactly a demon. He was an incubus. The most wanted incubus to ever stalk the New York Underground. He hadn’t been accused of murdering anybody—yet—but he had been accused of disappearing the daughters or wives of dozens of important supernatural people. The general consensus was that he had them all hidden away somewhere remote: his own personal little sex-cult.

  “I know what you are.” I pointed at his chest, making sure not to actually touch him.

  Unlike the demon in front of me, I hadn’t lived thousands of years. I was only twenty-five. There were many abilities that I hadn’t yet been in contact with—and his was one of them. I wasn’t even sure how it would affect me. Would I start kidnapping women to form my own sex-cult? Would I shave the sides of my head and get some crazy naval-themed tattoos? It was in both our best interests if we didn’t make physical contact. He didn’t seem to agree with my opinion, though. He stepped closer, flashing that sharp smile at me again. Heat sparked almost painfully through me. He smelled amazing … like the kind of magic that makes a person smell amazing.

  “You smell like magic.” Get a hold of yourself, I inwardly screamed, before quickly amending the statement. “Demon magic.”

  His smile melted into a quick laugh, and he stepped around me, disappearing into the fading light of the tunnel leading away from the entrance. I glanced around the pillar, peering after him. There was a soft blue light filling the entryway beyond, swallowing up the illumination from outside that had thrown my momentary hiding place into relief. I stepped after Torstein without a moment’s hesitation, stalking my prey. It seemed that any number of magical people had been invited to this ball—I hadn’t sensed a single human—so there was every chance that I would run into one of my ongoing cases or even an older target like Torstein … but the chances of seeing him within a minute of stepping into the castle?

  Luck was on my side tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Luck was definitely not on my side tonight.

  I had searched the ballroom for over half an hour, and there was still no sign of Torstein. Once I had made my way back to the light, I had been forced to pause, the splendour of the interior hitting me all at once. It seemed to be enchanted: the castle’s exterior had appeared as a crumbling ruin until I stepped past a certain point on the lawn, and then it appeared to be magically restored. The interior also seemed to have travelled back in time. Everything was new, from the heavy metal chandeliers to the richly draped fabric and the smooth stone floors. By the time I finished gaping at everything inside, it was too late. I had lost Torstein. I sulked my way to one of the long, black bars on the other side of the room, pulling myself up onto a stool. A bartender with emerald eyes and a golden beard stopped before me.

  “I’m looking for a guy,” I said, without preamble. “He’s giant. I don’t know his exact height, but it’s around the height of a giant, you with me?” He didn’t look like he was with me. I continued anyway. “He has a really long blond braid and these freaky-looking nautical tattoos on the sides of his head. Even if you’re not into guys, you probably wanted to fuck him—”

  He held up a hand, a laugh escaping him. “I assure you, Goldie. I haven’t seen him.”

  “Fine.” I sighed, ordering a drink instead. “I’ll just occupy myself so
me other way,” I muttered as he placed the short glass of whiskey before me. I tossed it back, slapping the glass back down onto the bar.

  There had to be a golden candlestick or an ancient chest of pearls sitting around here somewhere. It was a castle after all. If I couldn’t snag the Motherlode, I could at least make do with a consolation prize. I made my way onto the dance floor, momentarily losing myself in the pulse of bodies. I was a little buzzed, and with each new person that I brushed up against, I shouted the same question in their ear.

  “Why are you here?”

  The answer was always the same: they had received an invitation. Nobody seemed to know who actually owned the castle, or why they were throwing a ball. By the time I reached the other side of the ballroom, I had lost my fainting trick. The tingle was no longer in my arms, having been replaced by a lightness that spluttered somewhere in the base of my skull. It was a new power, from a gentler race of people, though I couldn’t be sure which magical creature’s lightness I had absorbed. All magic had a taste, a tenor, a personality. The fainting trick had been mischievous and fun-loving. Harmless, but belonging to a person who was more than a little dangerous. It had all been there in the tingle, in the way the magic danced through my veins.

  My new power didn’t hold as much weight as the old one. I ducked into one of the darkened alcoves off to the side of the ballroom, pulling my hand up before my face, and then turning it in the direction of the stone wall before me.

  Channelling magic wasn’t about knowledge or practice; it was something achieved through understanding. Magic had emotion. It was fuelled by feeling, and it responded to being understood more than it responded to need or force. The first step to understanding magic was to locate it. The lightness was somewhere in my lower cranium. It grouped around my nerve endings, and that meant that it wasn’t a physical power. It wouldn’t give me strength or speed, and it wouldn’t force anyone to drop like a bag of rocks. It was also a gentle force, so it wasn’t going to do any harm in any way ... which was a shame, really.