by Sam Hall
“Are you alri—” he said, looking at me over his shoulder, his words trailing away as I stepped back. He blinked as he drew a deep breath in.
“Nothing for you to be concerned about, Saveen,” Mark said.
We looked past him to where several extremely tall people stood in our path. They seemed to be…a group, a tribe, a species? I had no idea. Their clothing was finely made, but had the kind of elaborately tooled distressed leather Marlow had been trying to push on The Changelings. The male leader peered at me, his feet shifting as elongated brown eyes took me in. The only reaction was the restless shuffle of his comrades, standing at his shoulder, the women’s fingers going to his shoulders and curling around them, or stroking his horns. Oh yeah, it’d taken me a bit to see that, like my brain wasn’t having it and only providing the details reluctantly. I watched his eyes close almost completely, dark glittering orbs still trained on me as whatever they were doing to him registered—scalp massage or head job of a whole other kind, I wasn’t sure.
“You smell of power,” he said, taking a step forward, while Mark stiffened and provided a barrier between them and me. “Who is this one? She has no mark.”
“Newly transitioned and not even in novitiate stage,” Mark said. “The Rutherglen will hold court in the morning. Her status will be announced then.”
“While he has the time to ply her with trinkets. What do you want, pretty?” he said, and the women at his back started to shift and twist like snakes or limbs on a tree, looking at me with not entirely friendly gazes. “Come to Claracan, and we will drown you in pleasure and sensation. You’ll run with us on the plains, dance beneath the moonlight in the deep places—”
“I’ll have to insist that offers are made once court has been convened.”
“You want these creatures to cage you in their intricate games?” The man frowned, as if I’d disappointed him unimaginably, and I felt a pang deep inside me. “These rules they create to build edifices from their privileges? Come to us. We will put no such strictures on you.”
I stepped forward, past Paulie, and it was only Mark’s arm snapping out that stopped me from going any further. When I felt the iron grip, I looked down at where my flesh was turning white by the force of his hold. I both wanted to jerk free and see just what else he could bruise with those rigid fingers. When I looked up at the horned man, a smile twisted his lips.
“Include House Claracan in the negotiations, Lord Davian,” he said, his eyes flicking off to the right, and mine followed along. Jen’s dad, Dave, stood to one side, a beautiful woman on his arm, watching me with a steady gaze.
“Of course, Lord Harn.” He waited until the group had withdrawn, then turned his focus to us. “Anyone want to inform me of what is going on in my own home?”
“My apologies, Lord Rutherglen,” Mark said, sketching a bow. “We sent a message with your herald. I thought you were aware of Kira’s transition.”
“I was informed that was to happen while The Changelings were on tour, that they had everything prepared for her shift, and that she was little other than an underpowered late bloomer. I gave her to my herald to assist with the process when my daughter made it apparent she was transitioning earlier than expected and sent a messenger to The Changeling camp. But that doesn’t explain to me why she is in your care, outside that of those she has been promised to, nor…” He breathed deeply, that kinda weird, prolonged thing wine snobs do over glasses they don’t intend to drink. “It appears I was not advised well on what she would become. She has rejected the Hartley bid?”
“Nothing has been established yet. An offer was made by your herald to become her preceptor, but that has not been accepted.” Dave stiffened. “Nor rejected. There seems some evidence of affection there, but it’s yet to be determined.”
“So you’ll be vetting offers then?” Dave said to me, his eyes roaming over my body for some time before flicking up to meet mine. A hand, complete with a very nice deep red manicure, slid down his chest, but he paid it no mind. “Well, you’ve picked a good time for it. I’ll have my herald send out the messages to all that can and wish to be present. We’ll hold court in the morning, and see if we can find a place for our newest novitiate.”
It all sounded so reasonable, like there was this perfectly rational process for plonking girls into lifelong relationships, squaring them away like we were luggage to be stowed. But I felt the burn of his eyes and of the woman who hung on his arm on my skin, and that told me something else altogether.
Dave clicked his fingers, summoning servers as if from thin air. “Have food and drink brought to the girl’s room. She stays with the sentinels.”
“Do you accept?” Mark said.
I stared back at him, wanting to ask just how long on my knees I’d need to be to pay for a burger and a beer, but assumed as everyone was speaking oh so formally, that this might not be a good idea. My stomach grumbled at the idea. I’d eaten very little, being too nervous before. I nodded, and Mark indicated to the servers that this was permissible.
“If you can circulate that court will be convening, I’d be much obliged,” Mark said to Dave. “Our compound is on the far side of the grounds—”
“And you’ll be stopped by all and any as you pass.” He nodded, then flicked his wrist, and a glittering ball of golden light appeared above our heads. It vibrated for a moment, then split into what felt like a million tiny pieces, then they shot out in every direction. “You have my protection for this night, or until the court is convened.”
“Thank you, milord.”
“I look forward to you gracing my court with your presence, Kira,” Dave said, and there was a weird quality to his voice. Being a quiet, introverted kinda chick, I’d never really had that thing at eighteen where much older men started checking me out, but there was a serious energy that resembled that now. I half expected him to tell me what a lovely young woman I’d become in a tone that told me exactly what he wanted to do to this new body. I was the entirety of his focus, a pretty foreign experience for me at any stage of my life. I just stared back, frozen by his attention, unable to form a response until he looked away. I let out a little gasp, feeling like a massive weight, a not entirely unpleasant one, had lifted.
“Come,” Mark said, more gently, taking my hand when I didn’t respond. “We should be able to travel without interruption now,” he said, and we did.
My chest ached when we reached the place he’d brought me to this morning and led me inside the somewhat squat building. Other men in Marlow’s kilts or the regulation suits sat in a large room with monitors, a lot like Marlow’s, and rose when they saw us.
“New novitiate,” Mark said. “Unaligned.”
That seemed to pique the men’s interest, many getting out of their seats or turning towards me for a longer look.
“Seems like there was some kind of uninformed deal between Rutherglen and Hartley. They’ll be forwarding the paperwork over before the sun rises. I want it reviewed, scanned, sent to head office before the morning, and the consul’s advice forwarded to me, no matter what time is. There’s likely to be a lot of interest, plus a dispute between lord and vassal. I need to be prepared.”
“Of course, sir,” the nearest few guys said, moving to take their places in front of several of the laptops left open on the desks littering the room.
“I needn’t remind you, but Kira is to be afforded every courtesy during her stay here and protected from otherworldly influence until such a time as she makes her choice. Your behaviour represents that of the League, so be mindful what face you show of our organisation. Any questions?”
He was met by a whole lot of shaking heads.
Well, damn… The lack of servility while ‘guarding’ Jen was starting to make sense. Boy wasn’t just a paranormal cop, he was the bloody captain. I let my eyes run over that muscular back, something that at least few of his men noticed, but they kept their faces schooled smooth until I met their gazes, one by one. I felt it for the first time
since I’d looked at my new reflection in the mirror with Marlow at my back—a feeling of power. As if sensing that, Mark turned to me and then gestured for me to proceed down the hall.
“This way, Kira.”
I shuffled down the hallway, the stupid sweats dragging behind me. That powerful feeling dissipated pretty quickly as I realised I was more like a child dressed up in her dad’s clothes than any kind of femme fatale.
“Allow me,” Mark said with a hand on my shoulder.
That was only reinforced when he dropped down and neatly rolled the cuffs up. He tapped my feet so I would lift them each in turn. I didn’t have great balance at the best of time, something that unfortunately hadn’t been fixed with my transformation, so I wavered, and one hand slapped against the wall while the other landed on his back. Paulie watched cautiously as Mark went still for a moment, then continued, standing up and moving away from me.
Definitely off the table, then, I thought, watching that big, broad back as he moved down the hall, leading us into what looked like a shared living space with tables and chairs, a kitchen, and several couches with a large flat screen TV in front of it. And a side door that was open and letting people in and out, as men in suits oversaw the delivery of the ‘tokens’ from Marlow and the band.
I looked at the boxes and boxes of alcohol being stacked up against the wall. There were some filled with litre bottles, others just slabs of beer or premixed spirits. I shook my head and walked over, then ripped open the side of one of them as it was put down, the delivery guy shooting me a quick look before scurrying away. I cracked open the rum and Coke can and drank it.
Fuuuuuck. European depictions of faeries often showed them as hedonistic creatures with little concern for anything other than sensation, but damn, if this was what it was like, I understood why. I didn’t mind rum. It was sweet, dark, and a pretty straightforward kind of drink, but right now, I was getting so much more. Sweet caramel and crystallised cane sugar, acid from the kola berries and coca leaf. Bubbles prickled on my tongue, an almost painful feeling, while the twin rush of stimulating caffeine and sedating alcohol rushed through my veins. I was caught up in its swirl, in the ways it both soothed and aroused my body’s responses, leaving me somewhat shocked when I looked down at an empty can. I reached for another, but Mark put a hand on my shoulder.
“Have something to eat first,” he said, and gently steered me towards the table that was being steadily filled with food.
“No one will be on cooking duties for a week,” Paulie said gleefully, looking down at the spread of food, then watching the very shapely form of the servers as they ferried it in, dressed in miniskirts and high heels and not much else.
“Get dressed in something more suitable,” Mark said when he went to sit down. “Then you can serve yourself.”
“Of course, boss,” he said, and sketched a bow before disappearing back down the hall.
“Eat,” Mark said gently. “You’ll need your strength for what comes.”
He pushed a plate towards me, and I looked at it, plucking something that smelled fucking amazing from it and then chewing. I’d done it to please him, but was more than rewarded for my compliance. It was cheesy, bacony, chickeny awesome with some kind of complex flavouring basted on top of it. He watched me eat one after the other before popping open another rum and Coke can to wash it down. I settled back against the back of the chair, feeling a lot more settled now. I could kid myself that I was just in someone’s lounge room, having a drink after work. Except Mark didn’t eat or drink, he just observed me with what he hoped was clinical calm, but I could smell it. Not as strong as Marlow, but it was there, a piney musky scent that made me want to get closer to breathe it in.
“So,” I said. “We gonna talk about the fact that you licked my pussy juices off your fingers before or what?”
Lucky he wasn’t eating, since he choked as the words sunk in. I grinned, not sure why, but seeing tall, handsome, and very nice kisser get discomfited was fun. I had to take my pleasures where I found them. But I saw the rejection coming as soon as he recovered his composure.
“Kira…”
“That won’t be happening anymore,” I said, imitating his deep tones as best as I could and hiding behind my mocking imitation. Because it stung, it really fucking stung, that the cloudy look of lust was being replaced by almost fatherly concern. “You’re a fairy, I’m a fair approximation of Jamie Frazer, and faux Scottish lairds don’t mix with those who may or may not sprout wings and shed pixie dust out of their arses.”
He frowned, and I drank deeply from the can. The two things may or may not have been interrelated.
“Do you want to talk seriously about this or not?” he grumbled.
“Which option gets me laid?” I said.
Once I was on this smart-arse jag, it was hard to get off. Being serious meant hearing him tell me oh so politely that it wasn’t me it was him, and then having to spend the rest of the night drowning in awkwardness, and I had no interest in that. He frowned in response, but soldiered on.
“I’m sorry, I should never have approached you. I knew the Rutherglen had an interest in you, as did the Hartley’s, but I assumed you were like Anna. A latent without enough power to transition, but sufficient to be very good at your job. I didn’t realise—”
“That I’d end up glowing in the dark and being able to smell people’s desire?” I leant forward, watching his eyes follow my every move and smiling when they jerked away as I stuck my finger into something that looked a lot like chocolate mousse, then licked it off. “Be bartered away like some kind of slave? Yeah, I can see why you needed to retract the kind offer of your dick.”
“Kira, you don’t understand—”
“You’re damned right, I don’t, and people aren’t exactly falling over themselves to tell me, so why don’t you? Why is it verboten to bump uglies with one of my kind?”
“Because I am a sentinel, a member of the League, and we are all that stands between the heads of the courts and the rest of the world. Those who rule your kind hold unimaginable wealth and power, many with little to no compassion for any but themselves. We hold ourselves aloof, we must, to fight for the rights of those who can’t protect themselves. Without us, the Hartleys and the Rutherglen would fight to the death, the winner raping you while you lay in the bloody remains of the loser.” Well, that put a vivid picture in my head. “And I can’t do that elf-struck.”
“And what’s that when it’s at home?” I said, but the rabid way the groupies had attacked the guys’ dicks started to make sense. This wasn’t someone getting off on sucking the cocks of their favourite band. That was the striving, clawing need of an addict. “What would happen if you’d licked my pussy after the transition?” But I knew, I already knew.
He sighed and shifted in his seat. “I’d become your thrall.”
Silence fell over the room as I sat and stared, my mind working overtime.
“With your grandmother, you would have heard plenty of stories about those who touched faeries, and how their otherworldly lovers destroyed their mind and bodies. Well, that part of the legend is real.”
He was about to tell me more when a sharp knock came on the side door. Our heads whipped around to see a tall woman with buzzed short purple hair standing there, a grin spreading on her face when we registered her.
“Hey, I’m here to do a fitting for a Kira? That you, love?”
“Ah, yes?”
“Alright boys, bring ’em in.”
We both watched open-mouthed as rack after rack of clothes were brought in by a phalanx of men, and it didn’t stop until there were about ten of them sitting in the living room.
“So, I’m Vervain, and I’m gonna need a room to do the fittings. Or is it tits out for the boys?”
Paulie paused as he came back in, his eyes flicking around as he tried to work out what the context for that sentence was.
“Through here,” Mark said gruffly, getting to his feet.
&nb
sp; My heart sank when I realised which room we were going to. I could smell it much more strongly in this form, his scent permeating his living space. Vervain gave me a look with an arched eyebrow as we walked in, my discomfort apparently obvious.
“You staying for this, Sentinel?”
He hovered for a moment, eyes flicking from me to her.
“I have your word no harm will come to her?”
“We need to tailor that a little, love, for me to swear to that. I swear no harm will come to her by my hand or from anything I bring into this room for the duration of the fitting. But, Sentinel, I’m one of the Rutherglen’s. It’d be worth more than my hide to damage a valuable asset.”
“Fine, I’ll be just outside.”
The door closed with a click, and she turned to me with a broad smile, a tape measure appearing in her hands.
“Come on, love. Get the boss’s old sweats off and let me take a look at what we’re working with.”
“Damn girl,” she said once I’d stripped off, the cool air on my skin only adding to the feeling of awkwardness. “I’m seeing what the fuss is about.”
“What?” I said, looking down at my naked body. I’d seen glimpses of it in Marlow’s mirror, but not entirely.
“Take a look,” she said, gesturing to the mirror she’d wheeled in. I approached it tentatively, something that just made her laugh. She reached across and jerked it in front of me. “This is what’s got them all hot under the collar.”
I’d done my art history, having completed a fine arts degree, so I’d seen bodies like this before, just not attached to me. Everything was exaggerated, like I was a cartoon of a girl—bigger tits, smaller waist, wider hips, thicker thighs but tiny ankles. I frowned when I looked at it.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Vervain said. “You’re fucking lush.” She sighed when I continued to just stare, aghast. “We come in all shapes and sizes. Like all shapes and sizes, but most humanoid fae women, they look like me. Great for hanging clothes from. Skinny, little tits, narrow hips.” She pointed out each feature of her body. “I’ve bulked mine up a bit with muscle, but it’s basically the same thing over and over. Sex, that’s about variety, and you, you’re gonna provide that. Usually, what you’ve got they’ve had to go to human women for. It’s why there were always those paintings of…” She made the same sign with her hands that Jake had made of an hourglass shape. “Artists have always been fae favourites, and our lords and ladies commissioned what they wanted to see more of. Now, are you ever going to buy off the rack again? Probably not, but you won’t need to. The boss is wearing your discarded t-shirt around his neck like it’s some kind of designer scarf. You’ll have him as your devoted couture slave for life. So, can I start fitting you for clothes, or what?” Her expression softened when I looked at her. “You’re tired, and this has been a crazy day, I know. I’ve seen a lot go through their transition. But if you just let me take some measurements, I’ll get my team to whip you up a complete wardrobe by morning, I promise. Then you can rub yourself all over that sentinel’s sheets like I know you want to, and go to sleep.”
