Fighting Lady Jayne (Divinity Warriors 2)
Page 20
On this dimensional plane of existence, humans cohabitated with humanoid creatures. The first time Karre saw a vampire sucking on the neck of a shifted werewolf, she’d nearly sprinted out of the room to find her wrist portal to flash out of there to another plane. The portable device looked like a large bracelet to most, but to Karre it was her sole means of survival.
Necessity made her stay where she was. This plane was the easiest to get jewels on without resorting to thievery and the hard, shiny rocks were good for trade in nearly every dimension. Besides, not counting the dancing, being in Dimensional Plane 395 was like taking a vacation. With so many strange and different creatures, they never questioned anything she said and most were focused more on blood-drinking and pleasure-seeking.
Being in a new dimensional plane was like being in your world, but only if had it evolved in a different way. To a point, there were many similarities. Languages, generally, were relatively similar, though for some reason the written word consisted of unfamiliar symbols. Some people looked the same, but were not the same people. Natural disasters and major human events were shared. Weather was the same and each place was still Earth.
“I adore you, Sparkle!” a man yelled. “Marry me!”
Karre turned to look over her shoulder at the crowd and winked. A plethora of large green horns, red flesh, reptile skin, webbed fingers, sharp fangs, and ridged flesh stretched out before her until the mass became a single entity flowing back and forth like a wave.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the same voice answered her playful flirting. A rush of similar proposals followed the first, showering her in declarations of love. But she wasn’t fool enough to believe them. What they felt wasn’t love. It was lust.
Karre knew their adoration for what it was and used it to fuel her dance. She twirled and wiggled, thrust her ass toward them, drew her hips in seductive circles, only to pause in a sexy pose in time with the music. Slowly, she undressed, peeling the slinky gown off her body. Several lights flashed, illuminating her from various angles, leaving no curve unseen.
Just flesh. Just a means. Just another job. Just another plane and soon a distant memory.
Her smile widened, as she knew this was her last dance, at least for this trip. The cheering rose, but she stopped listening. And then it was over. Karre held still, letting the dying notes find their silence before walking naked from the stage.
“You were wonderful tonight, Sparkle,” a new dancer fawned. “The crowd loves you. I was wondering if you’d show me how to—”
“Is he here?” Karre asked, stopping the woman from starting a conversation Karre didn’t have time for. It’s not like she could tell the truth—that all her dancing skill was someone else’s memories uploaded into her brain by a device she’d bartered for on another plane.
“He’s in your room,” the woman answered, frowning slightly at having her question dismissed. “And he brought a large case. I think it’s full of gifts so you’ll consider his suit.”
“Perfect,” Karre grinned. Taking a long robe the woman held out, she slipped it over her shoulders. “I don’t want to be disturbed.”
* * * * *
Two weeks ago, Dimensional Plane 154, Stac Lesh Mansion
Because right now, in this moment, she was the help.
Karre stared at her red, curly hair in the liquid-silver reflection wall. It had been pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. The long skirt of the plain uniform and padded body suit did much to hide her figure under the thick gray wool. An apron, changed every time so much as a spot marred the pristine white, covered high over her chest and low to her knees. With the clothes and makeup to pale her face into an unimpressive mask, no one would look twice in her direction because right now, in this moment, she was the help.
She had expected to keep her head down and do her job for months before coming back into this room. But in putting on the uniform, she became invisible. The rich people she worked for didn’t look in her direction twice. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. When the wife was gone, the husband had looked at her more than twice. A big grin showcasing blacked-out teeth and a very inappropriately timed belch had changed his interest quickly.
Karre reached to touch her reflection. Behind her, the rich baby’s room spread out like the entrance to a palace. Gilded ceilings etched with clouds, golden rays of light and ridiculously cheerful fat angels stretched above as white marble stretched below. It was cold and unwelcoming and more than any one person deserved.
“Oh, wonderful, finally, help,” the rich wife said, sweeping into the room. Karre didn’t bother to learn the lady’s name. “Rich wife” was much easier to remember. The woman held her child under the arms, away from her chest, as if contact with the baby would somehow ruin her carefully planned outfit. “Which one are you?”
“Brigitte, ma’am.”
“Take Cinny,” the woman ordered. “Mommy needs time to collect herself.”
Karre suppressed her groan of frustration at being interrupted and stood to dutifully take the child. She cradled the poor creature close and walked it toward the crib.
“Sing to Cinny before you put her down,” rich wife ordered, standing before the liquid silver as she brushed at her clothes.
Karre stopped walking. Sing? To the gurgling, wiggling mass in her arms?
“Well, Brigitte?”
“Mistress, mistress, let me come in,” Karre sang the only childlike-sounding song she could think of at the moment, pausing to clear her throat. “I have the pence if you have a quim.”
“What a pretty tune,” the woman said. “I’ve never heard it. What does it mean?”
“My dad sang it to my mom,” Karre answered, letting the memories she had uploaded into her mind take over her personality—Brigitte of the Fallen Women, a whore’s daughter raised in a brothel, adept at blending into new environments. She left off the word “once” before adding the lie, “I’m not sure what it means.”
“Carry on.”
“Mistress, mistress, I’m stiff as a pin. I need your…” Karre continued, lowering her voice as the woman left her alone with the gurgling, oblivious child. Stopping, she laid the baby down and said, “Sorry, kid, it’s the only song I knew the words to. But I guess it’s all right. I turned out just fine with lots of jewels and pretty things and you’re too little to understand what any of it means. You should be more worried about growing up in this place with that mom of yours. Now, if you just be good,” she paused and tucked a blanket around the infant’s body, “I’ve got a job to do.”
Going back to the wall, Karre again reached for her reflection. She stepped forward, letting the liquid hit her hand. It stung, freezing cold in the warm room. For a moment, she hesitated, glancing back at the gurgling child. She thought about grabbing Cinny and taking the baby with her.
“Sorry, kid,” she whispered, “even with that mother, you’re better off here.”
It was a delicate balance—keeping her purpose in her mind while living out the personality and quirks of another—almost like having two people in her head. Karre’s hand met with the wall as she felt around, searching for the device she’d hidden. When her fingers met with a smooth, flat surface, she frowned. Putting a second hand to the wall she became frantic, sliding her palms in wide, searching arcs. Perhaps the adhesive she used had come loose. She bent her knees, crouching as she searched the bottom corner of the liquid reflecting wall. Her fingers were so cold it became hard to feel, but the molecular structure of the liquid kept the silver from trickling down her arms as it remained bonded to itself.
Then, to her great surprise, warmth gripped her. A hand wrapped her wrist and jerked her forward. She was pulled through the wall, feeling the sting of silver before landing on a hard, stone floor. Gasping and shivering, she looked around the secret room. A wall of computing towers lined one side, next to three technicians silently typing away on their holographic keypads.
“Lose something, Brigitte?” a man asked, coming clo
se.
Karre glanced up from the floor, “No, sir. I have nothing to lose.”
“You are extraordinary.” The man laughed. Her eyes instantly took in the familiar insignia of the Divinity Corporation. “Finally, we meet.”
Karre forced a grin she didn’t feel, letting him see her blackened teeth. Knowing what she looked like, she couldn’t help but wonder at his choice of words. Extraordinary? “I wasn’t aware we were destined to meet, sir. How lucky for me.”
“I can assure you when I’m done with you, you won’t feel lucky.” The man leaned down, studying her face. He had the militant rigidity of a soldier, from the purposeful jerks of his body to the engraved frown lines around his mouth and eyes. His hard gaze bored into her, filling her with cold dread. She, or rather Brigitte, had seen that look in men’s eyes before. They were usually the kind to beat a prostitute the second they couldn’t get their pricks hard.
“I’ve heard that one before,” she mumbled, pretending to be unimpressed.
“I’m Director Tomes and…” He paused, lifting the small, wrist-wrapping device she’d been searching the liquid-silver wall for. Divinity had the only known source of top-secret inter-dimensional travel technology and they wouldn’t like the fact that someone had stolen it. “I have a feeling you know where I am from. It was very naughty of you to borrow our only portable jump prototype. Our scientists will be very interested in seeing how you got it to work. This device will make traveling to uncharted worlds much easier. No more carting around temporary portals. No more perfectly timed pickups from headquarters. No more rescue parties.”
Less supervision so you can do more dark deeds, Karre silently added.
“We’ll be able to explore planes at a much faster rate,” Tomes continued, as if it was a good thing.
Just like an infectious disease.
“Sorry, I’m not available for science lessons, but if you’d like to make an appointment, I’m sure I can fit you in,” Karre hummed in pretend thought, “uh, never.”
“Oh, you’re going to be fun to break, my dear,” Tomes promised. “Talbert. Get her ready to go.”
For a complete, up-to-date booklist, visit www.MichellePillow.com
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For a complete, up-to-date booklist, visit www.MichellePillow.com
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