by J A Cummings
“What if I don’t know what I want?”
“Then he’ll bring you something you like.” He winked one bulbous eye at her and flicked an ear. “Trust me, it’ll surprise you. He’ll bring you things you didn’t even know you were hungry for.”
Almost on cue, a tentacle appeared before her, holding a plate in its sucker cups. The plate held a pastrami on rye sandwich and a big pickle. Eliot winked at her and kept moving.
“See?” Chester asked. “Bingo bango.”
Rowena took a bite of the sandwich and smiled. “Oh, it’s so good.”
“Everything here tastes just a little bit better than it does any place else,” the chupacabra said, smiling. At least she thought he was smiling. It was hard to tell, considering the shape of his snout. “Probably some kind of druid magic.”
“Well, whatever causes it, I’m a fan.” She took another bite. “Best. Sandwich. Ever.”
“Welcome to the Triangle.”
“Thank you.”
Eliot came back and put a piece of lemon meringue pie in front of her. Rowena shook her head. “This is my favorite dessert. How…?”
Chester laughed. “First timer?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Does it show that much?”
“Well, sort of. After a while, you just accept that miracles happen around here on the regular.”
“So have you stayed here often?”
“Once a year for the last eighty years,” he nodded. “Sometimes you just need a break from the whole hunt-and-be-hunted routine, you know?”
Rowena nodded. “Oh, yes. I know.”
Chester finished his soda, then said, “Well, Miss Rowena, I hope you have a wonderful vacation.”
“Thank you, Chester. You, too.”
She finished her lunch and thanked Eliot, who shivered two of his tentacles at her in happiness and handed her a take out box filled with grilled chicken. Rowena smiled, amazed that her half-completed thought about getting something to bring back for Grendel had been answered so quickly.
Since she had food to take to her familiar, Rowena went to the concierge stand and arranged for a transport to take her back to her bungalow. She saw everything from ram carts to bicycles to horses on the street, so she wasn’t certain what sort of conveyance she could expect. A horse-drawn buggy pulled up to the concierge stand, and the driver, a comely young demon, helped her into the plush interior seat.
Rowena had been with a demon lover once before, and the experience left an indelible impression on her. She thought about that experience all the way back to her bungalow.
Grendel was still lounging on the bed when she arrived, holding the leather-bound amenities booklet with one paw while turning the pages with the other. He looked up when she arrived.
“You didn’t go shopping,” he said, mildly accusatory.
“Nope. I had lunch and brought you something to eat.”
The grimalkin put the book aside and stepped down off the bed. “Wonderful! I was just starting to get a little peckish.”
She found a plate and put the chicken on it. Her familiar purred at the scent and walked over to the dinner table. Rowena pulled out one of the chairs and put the plate in front of it. Grendel ignored the chair and simply stood at the table to eat.
Between mouthfuls of chicken, he said, “You’re sad. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know… maybe it’s just hitting me how much we lost in that fire.”
He snorted and shook his head. “No. That’s not it. Tell me the truth.”
She sat across the table from him. “I was just thinking about Abdiel.”
Grendel stared at her incredulously. “Abdiel was the worst mistake you ever made.”
“No, not the worst. I mean, he’s up there, but not the worst.”
Her familiar snorted. “That’s a matter of opinion. Are you that lonely?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
Grendel walked around the table and put a comforting paw on her knee. “My dear, someday you will find someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated, and someone who loves you as you deserve to be loved. Until then, trust me when I say no relationship is better than a bad relationship.”
“I know that. And yes, I know that Abdiel was the absolute worst relationship I’ve ever had. I just…” She shrugged helplessly. “I miss him.”
“No you don’t,” Grendel objected. “You miss being with someone, but you don’t miss him. He was never the one for you, and you never should have been with him in the first place.” He went back to his plate of chicken. “I seem to remember that someone grey and furry told you that at the time.”
Rowena laughed and reached across the table to rub his ear. “Yes, you did, and I should have listened. I’m an idiot.”
“You said it, I didn’t.” He licked the last morsels from the plate. “Are you going to go shopping or do I have to do it for you?”
“I’ll go. I just didn’t want to leave you here hungry.”
He purred. “Thank you, my witch. You’re too kind.”
“Anything for you, my familiar.”
This time, Rowena went to the shopping area on her own steam, walking in the sunlight to enjoy the summer’s brightness. It was hard to be sad on such a glorious day, and she resolved to only look forward. A past as deep as hers had too many dark places that sorrow could hide, so it was better to only concern herself with the future.
She went to Miss Millicent’s Millinery first. The front windows showed elaborate ball gowns, sparkling with jewels and beautifully made. Rowena had never owned anything like these dresses, and she wasn’t even certain she should buy one now. If a gown was the price of admission to a masqued ball, though, she was willing to pay. It had been too long since her last proper soiree.
When she went inside, there were a pair of Gorgons sifting through a rack of sale dresses. They were both wearing dark sunglasses to block the power of their gazes, and Rowena appreciated the consideration. The snakes that grew like tresses from their heads were brightly-colored coral snakes, and they were trying to decide which scale color to coordinate with. A dark fairy was working with them, looking annoyed and bored by turns, but her wizened face lit up when Rowena came into the store.
“Ah! My dear. Welcome to my shop. They call me Millicent. How can I help you?” the fairy asked, crossing the sales floor quickly. Her black gossamer wings beat rapidly in her excitement.
“I’m looking for a gown for the Masqued Ball,” she said. “I haven’t much money, unfortunately.”
The Gorgons looked at one another, and one said, “We have more money than we can use. Would you like some?”
Rowena blinked. “I…”
The second Gorgon smiled, revealing an even row of sharp little teeth. “Say yes.”
She was stunned. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”
The first Gorgon smiled, too. “Every girl should get to go to the ball.”
“We’ll be going,” her sister said.
“We’d love to see you there.”
“Put her dress on our tab.”
The fairy beamed. “Well. Shall we start looking?”
Rowena went to the rack where the Gorgons were standing, and the first one said, “Oh, no. Not this rack. That rack.”
She pointed across the room. The dresses that hung there were beautiful and elaborate, and no doubt extremely costly. Rowena shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly…”
The second Gorgon sighed. “Witch, please. We’re under a geas to do three kind acts a day. Stop making it so damned hard for us.”
She understood and smiled. “Well, in that case… thank you.”
“Finally.”
Millicent escorted her to the exclusive rack, smelling a lucrative sale on the horizon. She looped her arm through Rowena’s.
“You have lovely hair,” she complimented.
“Oh! Thank you.” Rowena ran a hand over the black curls that fell to her mid-back.
“Is it natural,
or a spell?”
“Natural.”
Millicent’s eyes lit up. “Indeed! I wonder… may I have a lock?”
Rowena had been around the magical block enough times and cast enough hexes in her day to know that sharing hair or fingernail clippings with strange spellcasters was generally a very bad idea. She shook her head. “I’d rather not.”
“Just one hair?”
“Again, no. But thank you for your interest.” Behind her back, she surreptitiously cast an enchantment that would keep any stray hairs from falling out while she was in the shop. A witch couldn’t be too careful.
Millicent managed to conceal her disappointment as she pulled an emerald green gown out of the designer rack. “What do you think? Would you like to try it on?”
The second Gorgon said, “Underpinnings, too. Bustiers. Hose. Crinolines. All of it.”
She clicked her tongue at herself and turned to her reluctant benefactors. “They call me Rowena Glass.”
The Gorgons looked at one another, surprised. Names were power, and not normally volunteered. To do so was a gesture of trust. Millicent hadn’t given her true name - no caster who used the phrase ‘they call me’ was giving up anything but a temporary moniker. Rowena hoped that the Gordons understood.
“They call me Rosalie,” the first Gorgon said.
Her sister nodded. “And they call me Georgina.” One of her snakes hissed in irritation and she stroked it soothingly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rowena smiled.
“Likewise.”
“Ahem.” Millicent cleared her throat. When Rowena turned back to face her, she brightened. It was a painfully unnatural look for a Sidhe. “Would you like to try this on?” she repeated. “I’ll make certain you have all of the appropriate undergarments.”
Rowena touched the green fabric. It was an embroidered and embellished slip dress made of silk, softer than any she had ever touched before, and it was certainly not a dress one would wear with a crinoline.
“Maybe something a little less sexy.”
Rosalie was scandalized. “Less sexy? With a figure like that?”
“Perhaps a true ball gown,” Millicent suggested. “Hoop skirt, decolletage, the works?”
“Yes, I think so. And maybe a mantilla,” Rowena suggested.
The dark fairy snapped her fingers. “Of course. Spanish style. I have just the thing.”
She went to another rack and came back with a gown of blackest satin with a voluminous skirt and fitted bodice that was daringly low-cut. It reminded her of the gowns that ladies had worn in the court of Louis XVI. There were sequins, beds and silver threads that embellished the fabric, artificial spider webs with tiny jeweled spiders. The false arachnids had real rubies for eyes, and the dress sparkled in the light.
Rowena covered her mouth with her hand in utter delight. “Oh, yes! That’s perfect.”
“Then let’s try it on, shall we?”
By the time Rowena was finished in Millicent’s shop, she had purchased the black dress, a black hoop skirt, black lingerie and black high-heeled shoes. The Gorgon sisters paid for it all, as required by the compulsion that they bore. Millicent had a courier take her purchases to the bungalow. The dark fairy tried to sell her jewelry and a purse to go with the gown, but Rowena didn’t care for any of the merchandise, so Millicent sent her down the street in annoyance.
In one store, Rowena found a black lace mantilla and a black satin mask that she could pair with the gown her new Gorgon friends had purchased for her. In another, she found a tiny black sequined clutch with a spider clasp that was such a perfect match she couldn’t believe Millicent hadn’t stocked it. By the time she reached the third shop, Rosalie and Georgina had caught up with her, and they hooked their arms through her. Their snakes looked at her, sizing her up, and one reached out its slender tongue to taste her cheek. The light touch tickled, and she laughed.
“I’m so used to people being afraid of our hair,” Rosalie said, “it’s nice to find someone who appreciates it. That one’s Stuie.”
“You’ve named each of your snakes?”
“Of course. Don’t you have names for your pets?”
Her pets, when she’d had them, didn’t grow out of her head, but Rowena left that thought unspoken.
Georgina dragged them into a jeweler’s shop, and the dwarf proprietor took his loup away from his eye to smile broadly at them.
“Ladies! Welcome! Can I interest you in golden bands for your beautiful snakes? Perhaps necklaces made of real human teeth?”
The Gorgons looked at one another, then back at him. “No,” Rosalie said. “No teeth. Gold bands… maybe.”
“We came for her,” Georgina informed him, nodding her snakes toward Rowena. “Jewels for the ball.”
The turned his mega-watt grin onto Rowena. “Well, of course. What would my lady like to see?”
“Something in black,” Rowena said.
“What a surprise,” he responded, speaking in a tone that said he wasn’t surprised at all. “Black, for a witch? How novel.”
Rosalie put her hand onto her glasses, as if she was preparing to take them off. “No commentary,” she warned.
He held up his hands. “Of course not. I was just having a little fun.” He reached into his display case and pulled out pieces made of jet and ruby. Rowena felt like a princess trying them on, and when Georgina insisted on purchasing the whole tray for her, she nearly fainted. When the jewels were packed up, the Gorgons looked at one another and sighed in satisfaction.
“That was three,” Rosalie said happily. “And now we can be ourselves again.”
Without another word to her, the Gorgons turned and walked away, leaving Rowena dazed and grateful.
Chapter Three
Rowena went back to her rented home and showed Grendel the things that the Gordon sisters had bought for her. He put an ear back.
“Are you sure they don’t want anything from you?” he asked. “Nobody does anything for free.”
“It wasn’t for free,” she reassured him. “They were under a geas, so they were compelled to do three good deeds. They chose to do them all for me.”
The grimalkin sniffed. “Well… as long as they don’t come looking for anything more concrete than gratitude, I suppose it’s all right.”
She kissed him on the forehead. “You take such good care of me.”
“Well…” He flipped his tail. “You don’t make it easy.”
Rowena conjured a vanity table filled with make-up and hair styling products. She sat down and looked into the mirror she had created. Grendel walked over to stand beside her. He propped his chin on her shoulder and looked at her reflection with her.
“What are you thinking?”
“Just wondering…” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s stupid. Never mind.”
“What?” he pressed.
Rowena looked down at her silver comb. “Wondering why I can never find someone who really loves me.”
“Part of the problem is that you keep looking in the wrong places.” He flicked an ear. “You’ve been hooking up with demons and warlocks, who only love power and want to use you. Or you get involved with humans, who are terrified of anyone who has abilities they don’t. You need to find a nice white witch man or a druid or something. Someone compatible.”
“I’m beginning to think that compatible men don’t exist,” she sighed. “It’s ridiculous. I don’t even know why I’m going to this ball. I’m not going to meet anyone.”
“You’re not here to find love. You’re here to relax,” Grendel scolded. “And you’re here to have fun. I don’t want you to go looking for Mr. Right. I want you to look for Mr. Right Now.”
She laughed. “That’s a horrible cliche.”
“Things become cliche for a reason,” he defended. “And anyway, what’s wrong with finding someone to have a harmless little fling with? The last man you had - that stinking warlock - he’s the reason we’re in the fix we’re in.”
“Douglas?” Rowena began to comb her raven curls. “You’re wrong. The arsonist was from that church. They came because Revered Billingsley preached against me, because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”
“Who do you think put him up to it?” Grendel asked. “Do you really think he would have been so antagonistic toward you on his own?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
“No.” He lifted his chin from her shoulder and took a few steps away, his tail flicking in annoyance at the memory. “Billingsley is a coward, and given his preference, he would have pretended that he never met you, just so he could claim that his hands were snowy-white.”
“His hands were clean. I never let him touch me.”
The grimalkin sighed, annoyed. “Figuratively clean. Don’t be so literal.” She giggled. She loved teasing her familiar. He was less fond of it, though, and said, “He never would have admitted that he’d ever spoken to you if Douglas hadn’t enchanted him.”
Rowena put the comb down. “Douglas did not enchant him. Douglas wasn’t even in town.”
“The better to avoid accusation,” he huffed. He went back to the bed and stepped up onto the mattress before he flopped down in disgust. “At any rate, you can do better than him. He was an idiot. And Abdiel? So much worse.”
“At least he was interesting.”
“Chinese curses are interesting. He was a plague.”
She looked at her familiar through the mirror. “Admit it. You just don’t want me getting involved with anybody because you’re jealous.”
Grendel sniffed and raised his chin. “A familiar’s relationship with his witch is very special and very close. No man, demon, warlock or whatever else you decide to date can come between us. Why would I be jealous?”
Rowena left the vanity and went to the bed, reclining beside him to stroke his soft grey fur. “Because our relationship may be very special, but my time is still finite. And you don’t want anybody to take my attention away from you.”
He lay down and pillowed his head on her thigh, purring. “True.”
