Synergist

by Chloe Adler

  I plop down next to her and pull a sponge out of the jar. While I get going on my foundation, Jules moves to the costume cart. She waits while I finish my makeup and tame my ponytails, then helps me wrangle into the ridiculous Catholic schoolgirl outfit. We finish and leave the room together.

  “Later, cunts,” Jules calls over her shoulder to the rest of the girls still primping in front of the mirrors.

  “Later, Jules,” Porsche responds. “Good luck with your cherry popping, Amaya.”

  I just roll my eyes.

  Jules leans into me. “Hey, at least the bitch addressed you by name.”

  We make our way out to the parlor and pick an empty chaise. Jules perches on one side, me on the other. In order to be more approachable, we’re not supposed to talk to each other when we’re on duty.

  Within three minutes, Jules is being pulled upstairs by a busty female. It takes another seven minutes for anyone to approach me. I’m busy thinking about Vasily, the men, Tara and Candy when a voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

  “I’ve been wanting to meet you!”

  A little person glides over, the top of his head level with my chin. He bows before me and extends a hand.

  “I’m Clyde. New to the Edge and, well,” he motions to his body, “as you can see, not very desirable.”

  “Amaya.” I grasp his hand in mine. “And so far, your manners have made you much more desirable than most of the other vampires I’ve met here.” I flash him a grin and he grins back. The way his mouth lifts at the corners brightens his entire face. Despite the introduction, Clyde is not unattractive. His features are broad, his face large, but what’s striking are the friendliest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. This man hides nothing because he doesn’t have to.

  “I’d love to drink from you, if you’ll let me.” He holds my gaze, his smile unwavering.

  “I’m open to that.” Though my body isn’t getting with the program yet. My heart races, and I have to take some deep, calming breaths. It’s time to step out of my comfort zone here. Why else am I working at a vectum if not to have a vampire pay for me to be his meal? “Where would you like to drink?”

  “Here is preferable. Out in the open, with everyone else.”

  I glance around. No one is paying any attention to us. A couple on the couch to our right is of far more interest to the salon’s patrons. A female vampire is drinking from Mohawk Guy. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed. He holds onto her hair, pulling her to his neck, groaning and humping the air. Guess I’m not the only donor to orgasm during a feeding.

  I offer Clyde my wrist and he cocks his head. “I’d much prefer to drink from your neck, if you’re amenable to that.”

  Shit. Of course. That’s what everyone else here is doing. I bite my tongue and force a nod, a stiff smile plastered on my face.

  “Am I reading this wrong? You’re uncomfortable?” Clyde asks.

  “No, you’re reading this right, but I need to get over my discomfort and I want you to help me. How much do you need to drink?”

  “I don’t require as much as most.” He motions down his body with a grin. “Four ounces will hold me for a week.”

  I scrunch up my face, trying to do the math.

  “I always pay for the full pint, though.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I prefer to. That way, you don’t have to donate to anyone else tonight, unless you want to earn extra. Your choice.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “My pleasure.” Clyde’s eyes twinkle with kindness.

  Let’s get this over with. I couldn’t have cherry-picked myself a nicer customer. I tilt my head, exposing my neck.

  Clyde climbs up my body, puts a hand behind my head and holds my gaze, licking his lips. “If you want me to stop at any time, I will. Okay?”

  I bob my head once and close my eyes.

  The prick at my neck is sharp, something I wasn’t expecting, and I cry out. Clyde immediately stops, pulling away, and my eyes fly open.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting that. Keep going, please.”

  “Are you sure?” The look of concern on his face melts the tension from my muscles, and my body softens in his arms.

  “Very,” I whisper, leaning my head back on his arm.

  He groans and descends on my neck again. The sensation is not unpleasant. A slight tugging, then warmth and tingles. It’s nothing like what I experienced with Vasily, and for that I’m grateful. I would not be able to handle fighting off an orgasm in public. The tingling radiates through my veins, relaxing me. I sigh and let myself float, giving over to the experience.

  Several minutes later, I’m overtaken by nausea and Vasily’s face swims before me. I don’t want to be thinking of him right now. Not after he’s enslaved Candy. What’s wrong with me? I like Clyde and I don’t want to hurt him, but the thought of being someone else’s meal sours my stomach. I’m slammed back into my body and my eyes pop open. I struggle in his arms and he immediately lets me go.

  “What’s wrong?” His brows are pulled tight, my blood still on his lips.

  “I’m sorry.” I worm my way out of his grasp. He lets me go at once and sits me up on the chaise.

  “Is it me? Do I disgust you?”

  “No!” I put my hand on his arm. “Not at all. You couldn’t be sweeter. It’s me. I . . .”

  He cocks his head, waiting. His tongue darts out to lick my blood from his lips.

  “I just can’t. I thought I could but . . .”

  “You don’t need to explain.” His eyes are clearer than they were a moment ago. “I was nearly done anyway. I’m still paying you the full price. Your blood is delicious.”

  “Thank you. For understanding.”

  He smiles, a genuine smile that crinkles deep at the corners of his bright blue eyes. “Whoever he is, he’s a very lucky man.” Clyde gently kisses the top of my hand, places it back in my lap and leaves.

  I remain seated for a very long time, stewing in anger and confusion.

  Jules pulls up in front of my parents’ house a few hours later. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here. Can you do this at my house?”

  “I feel safer leaving from my house. Last time I returned from Tara, I returned to my house. The time I traveled there in my dreams, I was sleeping at home. I think if there’s some kind of portal or way to get there, it’s more likely to happen in familiar territory.” I shrug. It’s hardly scientific, but it feels right.

  “Okay, but I’d rather not just leave you alone here.”

  “You want to come in and keep watch?”

  “I do.”

  Jules gets out and walks to my front door, where she narrows her eyes at the eviction notice. “Screw Bob.” She tears the paper from the door, crumples it up and throws it in the bushes.

  That’s one way to handle it, though I don’t think that’ll make it go away. I let us both inside and grab some water. Jules waits for me in the living room. I sit down next to her on the couch and hand her a glass of water.

  “You have a plan?” She takes a sip and places it on the end table.

  “A vague one but I’m more of a wing-it girl.”

  “No you’re really not.” Jules turns toward me and sits cross-legged.

  I sigh and take a sip of my water, cradle it between my legs and mimic her posture. “I need to get Candy back. That’s my first agenda.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I want to hear her side of the story. Find out if she’s been enslaved by Vasily and his merry men for her entire life.”

  “So how do you plan to get back there by yourself?”

  “Well,” I tap my finger on the side of the glass. “I’ve been able to cross over on my own, but only when I was asleep, and then I wasn’t corporeal. But the sylph crossed back over with me and I think he may be able to take me back there, to Tara.”

  “The wind guy?”

  “Yeah. Sabin.”

  She snorts.
“Do you have his phone number?”

  I reach out and box her knee. “Cute. But kind of, maybe. He told me to whisper his name.”

  “Creepy. Like is he always listening or following you around or something?” Jules reaches behind her and picks up her water to take a swig.

  “Okay, when you say it like that, it is creepy. I hope that’s not the case but I gotta try calling him and see what happens.”

  She puts her water between her legs and dons a face way too eager for something this serious. “Should we hold hands or something, like a séance? I always wanted to call in the dead.”

  “Sabin is very much alive. I assure you.” I close my eyes. “Sabin, I need you to show up now.”

  “That’s supposed to work?” Jules chortles.

  “Shhh. If you’re going to—”

  An enormous gust of wind zips through the living room.

  “What the fuck?” Jules flies off the couch, knocking over the glass of water in her lap. Liquid flies everywhere. The glass bounces on the carpeting but doesn’t break.

  I jump up after my friend, holding my own glass and setting it down on the coffee table before picking up hers and doing the same. “Jules, I’d like you to meet Sabin.”

  “Hello, Jules,” Sabin says, his voice still silken, snake-like.

  Jules spins around, her eyes searching every corner.

  “What do you need, mistress?” asks Sabin. “Or did you only call to introduce me to your friend?”

  Jules falls back on the couch. “I believed you, but now I kind of wish you were just bat-shit crazy.”

  Ignoring Jules, I address Sabin. “I need you to take me back to Tara. Can you do that?”

  “Wait a damn minute!” says Jules.

  “My pleasure . . .”

  Abada

  This time, instead of blinking awake on a soft bed of grass in Water Meadow, I have a tree branch practically shoving up my ass.

  “Sabin!” I yelp and twist to avoid the pain. That turns out to be a dumb idea as I fall out of the tree and tumble toward the ground. A frantic violin playing “Flight of the Bumblebee” springs unbidden into my head. Great, I get to die in this bullshit hellish fairyland. Right before I face-plant, my head hits something soft and I’m buoyed back up, up, up onto my feet on a higher branch than the one I fell from.

  Sabin whirls around my head. “Goodbye for now. We shall meet again.”

  “Wait. What?” The wind around me dies away.

  A tiny little girl circles my feet, squealing. “I caught one, Mamma! I caught a human. Can I keep her? Please?”

  A woman, also tiny but much older, stomps along the tree branch toward me—brandishing a tiny rolling pin. Where the hell is she baking around here? When she slams the rolling pin onto my foot, I lift hop up the branch, toward the trunk.

  “Hey.” I hold out my hands. “Come on now, I’m not hurting anyone.”

  “Yet,” sneers the woman, still coming at me. “We all know your kind here. One minute you’re all sugar and sweet talk, and the next you’re stealing and eating our youngins.”

  “What?” My back is against the trunk now, but the woman is still coming at me with the pin raised above her head.

  “Fauna, you go inside right this minute,” she calls to her child.

  “But Mamma, I’m the one who caught her. She’s not doing anything. Look, she’s afraid of you.” The young girl points at me.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not afraid, I’m trying to calm my anger so I don’t purposely step on your mother.”

  “See?” her mother hisses. “Inside, now. Remember your fairy tales—humans always eat the little children who don’t listen to their mothers.”

  Really?

  Fauna hops up on the branch above me and runs toward the trunk as well. I cock my head up to watch as she disappears into a small hole inside the tree.

  “Miz Fae, ma’am.” I hold up my hands as the mother advances. “I do not want any trouble. I’m here to get Candy away from Azotar.”

  “Who?” she stops.

  “Harlesque.”

  “She’s here?” The woman gasps. “Is the king with her?”

  “No ma’am. The king is stuck in my realm.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “How did you get here then?”

  “Sabin brought me.”

  She gasps. “Evil! Aligned with the fachan’s minion!” She runs at me.

  “What? Wait. No! I’m a friend of the king.” Sabin? A minion of Azotar? But Vasily was so happy to see him, and vice versa. She must be confused.

  She stops only a few steps away from me and eyes me.

  “Vasily is my friend, and he sent me here to bring Harlesque back.”

  “And leave us here with that monster? It’s destroying our world.”

  “No, we’re devising a plan. A way to remove Azotar from your world. I’m a synergist. If you kill me, the king won’t be able to come back and save you.” I force a smile for the rolling-pin-yielding fae.

  The woman plops down on the branch and pats the space next to her. There’s barely enough room for me to sit but I do, leaning against the trunk with my body so I don’t accidentally crush her. “If you speak the truth, I will help you get Harlesque.”

  “I do.”

  She places a tiny little hand on my leg. It’s so small, at first, I don’t even register the sensation of it through my jeans. But after a few seconds the heat coming off her is close to scalding.

  I wince. “That hurts.”

  She smiles. “Good.” She removes her hand and blows on it. There’s actual smoke coming off of it. Then she licks her palm, looks back at me and nods. “Not lying.”

  She stands and jumps on my leg, walking up my body until she reaches my shoulder, where she sits and holds onto my hair.

  “I’m Zuri, and you?”

  “Amaya.”

  “We can go now.”

  “What about your daughter? Don’t you need to tell her? And who will watch her?”

  “I am.” She taps her head. “We’re a community here, watching out for one another. One fae’s offspring is raised by all.”

  Free childcare. Nice. “So, how do we travel?”

  She whistles low and long. Something lumbers through the forest below us. I peek over the branches, gasping at the creature waiting below.

  It looks mostly like a horse but more svelte, with the build of an elk. The color is like nothing I’ve seen before, a shimmering blue-green. Its fur is long but patterned like scales. The mane and tail are flowing white tresses. Its ears are pointed almost like an elf’s, but with tufts of pale white fur. Atop its head are two spiraling horns.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s called an abada.”

  “How do we climb down to it? Is there a ladder or—” Zuri doubles, then triples in size, in a blink.

  And then she pushes me out of the tree.

  The air is forced from my lungs in a scream as I tumble through the air in shock. I’m not falling very fast, though, and the laughing faery flies next to me. I gulp in air, which speeds up the fall so I exhale instead, which slows me down. I really want to be able to tell the fae off, but she buzzes away from me. Floating down, I’m so focused on keeping myself upright so I don’t end up on my head that I’m unable to navigate a proper landing. When my feet graze the beast below, I’m confused and disoriented. I finally fill my lungs and shriek, causing the thing to bolt and me to land on my ass. But at least I’m astride the abada.

  You can do this, Amaya.

  I hold on the way I did when I rode Sequoia bareback. This creature isn’t much different, and I realize after a moment that this is basically the same as riding a horse on Earth. No wonder Vasily loves the horses back home so much. They must remind him of the abadas in Tara.

  Zuri, back to her teeny size, flies up ahead, leading us through the forest. After a few minutes, something small and hard hits my head. I put my hand up to touch the spot and when I pull it back, there’s blood on my han
d. What the hell? Then another one hits my cheek.

  “Zuri, stop.” I pull back on the abada’s thick mane. We halt but I’m pelted with more pebbles or acorns or whatever. I leap off the abada and crawl underneath it, covering my head with my arms.

  “What’s going on?” I cry from my hiding spot.

  “Friend,” Zuri calls out in a voice impossibly loud for such a small creature.

  The projectiles cease immediately, and Zuri flies down to my side under the abada and lands on my knee.

  “Since the king left, hostilities have grown. People are suspicious, especially of newcomers. Countless live in the forest of Calixto, our homes are concealed in the trees, where many hide. The reign of Azotar equals instability and distrust. It’s part of a fachan’s nature to cause chaos.

  “So I’ve heard,” I grumble. “Which is why your brethren were trying to maim me with sand?”

  She shrugs, her tight smile apologetic. “Ready to continue?” She points upward at the abada’s belly.

  Nodding, I crawl out from under the beast, ready to duck back under him—yes, it’s a him—in the event that I’m pummeled again.

  Zuri follows behind me, which gives me hope that our attackers have stopped.

  I stand up. “Do you think Harlesque is all right, or are we too late?”

  “She’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because fachan do not kill. The chaos they bring causes others to kill for them.”

  “And Harlesque is with Azotar?”

  “Yes, he has her, but from here you must go alone.”

  “Without you or the abada?”

  “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  “But why can’t you come with me?”

  “If I get near that thing, I may turn hostile and keep you from rescuing Harlesque. All inhabitants are subject to the pandemonium of a fachan. Be careful.” Zuri flies away.