Cherry Blossom Girls Box Set

by Harmon Cooper

  I was just turning back to the house for a final check when I got a message from Luke.

  Luke: Update me.

  Me: Let’s talk about the Main Character in the story I’m writing.

  Luke: LOL. Yeah, let’s.

  Me: The MC went to a strip club so the vampiric one could feed. Then they were attacked by the teleporter who could conjure kinetic energy. Now the teleporter is in the trunk of their car.

  Luke: The MC has someone in the trunk of their car? Hold up, let me do a quick search to see if that’s a great way to suffocate someone or not. Okay, I stand corrected. She won’t suffocate in there. But they’ve started installing glow-in-the-dark handles so a person in a trunk can open it from the inside, FYI. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

  Me: I can’t either. But we’re getting out of here.

  Luke: I’m not going to ask where you’re at or where you’re going, but don’t drive for too long – it’s getting late.

  Me: We won’t. G2G.

  Luke: All right, well it’s off to bed for me and the misses. Good luck!

  “Your friend seems like a nice guy,” Grace said as she passed by me with the backpack we’d picked up in New Haven over her shoulder. She tossed it in the trunk with Dorian, then we climbed into the vehicle. I started it up and drove away.

  I was suddenly tired, my body coming down from the adrenaline surge.

  There was still a voice in the back of my head that was upset with me for punching a woman, but I told that voice to shut the fuck up.

  There was a good chance Dorian would have killed me if I hadn’t reacted the way I did. Like Veronique, she had training, and she was probably used to having the upper hand.

  Don’t beat yourself up, Writer Gideon, said Grace as I pulled onto the highway, immediately zooming up past the speed limit. You saved us. I’m proud of what you did; you acted quickly, and your action changed the course of that fight. It was amazing.

  Hardly, I thought back to her.

  We are now in control of Dorian. If you hadn’t done that, she may have hurt you or one of us.

  You’re right. It just goes against my nature.

  Everything you’ve done over the last week goes against your nature.

  She had me there.

  So I kept driving, yawning, blinking away the troubling memories, and once I felt like we were far enough away that I could put the vehicle into auto drive, I did so.

  The Kia handled pretty well, and I had a brief thought that I had now test-driven more cars than most people would drive in their lifetime.

  Well, not quite yet, but if we kept switching out cars …

  Just relax, do what Grace said, a voice whispered in my head.

  “You are ridiculous,” I told the shifter, smiling over at her.

  “It’s Writer Gideon’s Life,” she said in Ira Glass’s voice. “Each week we take a look at Gideon Caldwell and the trouble he’s gotten himself into. This week, Dorian and Her Magic Paintbrush. Stay tuned; it’s going to be a hell of a story.”

  “Do one of the property guys,” Veronique suddenly requested from the back seat.

  Grace morphed into the property guy – a fucking tool if I’d ever seen one – and gave a quick spiel about the house’s foundation and how they were planning to gut it, much to Veronique’s delight.

  As they continued to role-play, I found myself more and more interested in the type of humor they liked. I didn’t think they’d enjoy the typical comedy we had nowadays, which seemed to be mostly about dicks, balls, sex, getting drunk, wives, and kids.

  The Cherry Blossom Girls enjoyed a simpler humor, and Grace’s ability only made this work even better. There was almost something childlike in the way Veronique would request for her to morph into and speak as someone else.

  But that wasn’t the only thing on my mind as I drove – or, as the Kia drove itself. I was also thinking about the woman in the trunk. Can she be turned? And what would happen if she woke up in the trunk? Is this really a smart idea?

  I was definitely interested to see what was on her drive.

  That would be the first thing I did when we arrived at our next destination. I figured we could stay in a hotel now because we didn’t have to worry about her premonition ability affecting us, especially if we kept her passed out.

  At some point in our journey, I began wondering more about her strategy, and if it had been part of her plan to be captured by us. It was a long shot, and there was no way she could have known I would have reacted the way I did, but Grace and Veronique may have been able to take her.

  Grace was much stronger than she let on, and while she didn’t have as much sway over superpowered individuals, she could have used her ability to broadside Dorian with something while Veronique distracted her from the front.

  I need to know more about Dorian’s abilities.

  That much was clear. Everything else was speculation. But as soon as we got to our next destination, I was plugging in. I didn’t care if I had to brew coffee all night – I was going to discover something.

  We would be in Texas within the hour. I searched on my smartphone and found several hotels in Longview.

  I located the most expensive one and put a flag on it.

  Might as well do this shit in style. After all, as John Milton said in Paradise Lost, “Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.”

  Chapter Nine: Playing with Stats

  If you guessed the Marriott again, you would be correct.

  Everything is bigger in Texas, or so I’d heard, and even though I’d only been driving in the state for an hour, I could confirm that this was definitely a thing. Including the hotel. What they don’t tell you about Texas is that everything is horizontally – not always vertically – bigger, so everything is essentially fatter.

  A grower, not a shower? Actually, that little line my ex used to describe my penis didn’t really apply, yet it was the first thing that came to my mind as I pulled our borrowed Kia into the Marriott’s parking lot shortly before midnight.

  “What’s the plan?” Grace asked as we got out.

  Of course, she knew the plan; the plan when checking into hotels hadn’t changed. We were Edward and Jill King, CBG, Inc., and we already had a reservation that was paid for by our company.

  “Should we get two rooms?” Veronique asked as I popped the trunk.

  “We’ll get whatever suite they have. Hopefully it’s got two separate rooms so we can keep Dorian somewhere else.”

  Veronique stepped over to the trunk. “Let’s just see what they have. And don’t worry about Dorian; I’ll take care of her this time.”

  Nope, don’t like the way she said that, I thought as we grabbed our bags and walked into the hotel.

  Rather than have me carry her, Veronique used her metal-wielding ability to drag Dorian along behind us, using the metal on the teleporter’s jacket, belt, and jean shorts. She dragged her roughly too, Dorian’s heels scraping against the pavement as she pulled her over the curb.

  I had forgotten I was wearing body armor, and after taking a few steps toward the hotel’s entrance, I definitely felt it. The armor was heavy, starting to chafe some, but I’d need to keep it on for a little longer.

  The sliding glass door opened, and we were greeted by a large painting of a cowboy riding a bull, which was pinned to the wall above a stuffed deer. We moved around this grand display of southern power, still towing Dorian behind us.

  Due to the late hour, the lobby was empty. The receptionist, an Indian man who reeked of cigarettes and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, was looking at his phone when we came in.

  The moment Grace saw him, he belonged to her. He began typing away on his computer, his eyes suddenly white.

  “Okay, room 206,” he said in accented English as he gave me the key card. “Check out time is at eleven.”

  I hesitated for a moment.

  It was already late, and I really needed to do some work on my manuscript, especial
ly before we got into whatever we would get into in Austin.

  David Butler could wait a day.

  Sensing my thoughts, Grace immediately corrected the receptionist. “Actually, we’ll be here until the day after tomorrow, so two nights.”

  “Ah, I see that here,” the man said as he wagged his head left and right. “Okay, enjoy your stay in Longview. Continental breakfast is from seven to ten.”

  Still under Grace’s spell, the man merely looked at Dorian as she was dragged away.

  “Thanks for adjusting the dates,” I told Grace when we took the elevator to our second-floor room. “I need time to finish up this manuscript. I’m sorry the hotel isn’t more interesting. I wish there was more to do around here.”

  “That’s okay,” said Veronique. “We can watch our shows.”

  I keyed everyone into the room, and Grace took over with Dorian’s body. Her eyes flashing white, she lifted the woman into the air and placed her body on the sofa chair near the window.

  No balconies here.

  This place was way too corporate to have a balcony with a view, and besides that, there really wasn’t a view anyway, as the hotel overlooked a four-way intersection.

  The clothes hangers burst out of the closet, startling me.

  They flew toward Dorian, and as the hangers that had already chained her wrists unwrapped, the new ones strapped her arms and legs tightly to the chair.

  “Don’t kill her,” I reminded Veronique as I set my bag down.

  “As you wish.”

  It was a spacious suite, with two large rooms and a rectangular bathroom joining them. I opened my duffle bag and got the mini USB cable out. Grace took my bag to the second room, leaving Veronique and me in the first.

  “I guess that’s where you’re sleeping,” Veronique said under her breath.

  Rather than answer – and really, what was I supposed to say? – I ignored her.

  I had no idea how this would play out when I plugged into Dorian’s neck, and as I approached her, Veronique skidded across the bed and stopped me. She pressed her palm against my chest, fingers glowing red.

  “Hey …” I started to protest. But she turned away from me to Dorian and placed her hand on the teleporting artist’s head, draining even more of her energy.

  “Not too much,” I whispered.

  “We can’t have her waking up,” Veronique said as she topped off.

  Her skin more radiant than it had been a couple of hours ago, Veronique lay down on the bed and found the home improvement channel on the TV. Grace returned from our room in my clothes – a statement if there ever was one – and sat on the bed next to Veronique.

  Don’t worry, we’ll get along. And if you have tension, release it.

  I gave Grace a funny look.

  Your idea of a relationship is different than ours, Writer Gideon.

  “Okay,” I said, just to clear Grace’s voice out of my head. I plugged into Dorian’s neck and a prompt asked me for the password.

  1QAZ2WSX3EFV4321QWEASD.

  Thanks, I thought to Grace.

  The password worked. I logged in easily and was presented with a shadow box. Not a lot here, nothing like what was on Grace and Veronique’s systems, which gave more credibility to Dr. Ken Kim’s statement that he had put that stuff on them to be discovered.

  Of course, this begged a whole series of other questions, like: How did he know someone would try to access them unless he was planning to free them?

  After a little poking around, I found Dorian Gray’s base stats.

  Build: 7.543

  Base height: 170 Centimeters

  Base weight: 49 kilos

  Strength: 2

  Intelligence: 6

  Constitution: 7

  Wisdom: 3

  Dexterity: 6

  Charisma: 8

  Well, at least she had charisma and constitution going for her, which surely counted for something.

  I cycled back to a different menu to find out more about her abilities. As it turned out, most of her energy abilities were set at low levels. I kept them that way for now.

  Main: Ergokinesis

  Overcharge: 2

  Charge Capacity: 4

  Charge Integrity: 3

  I scrolled to the space below the dials to get an explanation of what these three things were, even though they were pretty self-explanatory. From what I could decipher, setting Overcharge as low as possible kept her creations from becoming volatile too early through the overuse of her abilities.

  Charge Capacity referred to the size of the items she could create out of thin air. Increasing this would allow her to charge even larger things. Like Veronique had said, Dorian’s charge ability came from her saliva and other bodily fluids.

  It was a weird ability, but then again, so were Toad’s abilities as well as an assortment of other mutants from my favorite reference. You’d think I’d have a Professor X quote in Mutants in the Making by now.

  Not a bad idea, actually …

  Charge Integrity dealt with how long the charged item she created actually lasted. By increasing this, it would take longer for her creations fizzle out.

  I backed out of that folder and went to her Main Second folder, which spawned another shadowbox of dials.

  Main Second: Teleportation

  Tele-Sphere Radius: 2

  Conscious Spatial Awareness: 10

  Recharge Speed: 6

  Restoration Speed: 6

  There were a few other options, but akin to when I saw Veronique’s abilities, they were blurred out.

  I briefly messed with the dials and found that adjusting the Tele-Sphere Radius up reduced the Recharge Speed and Restoration Speed. So, the larger the objects she teleports, the slower they were teleported and restored.

  I wasn’t able to adjust the Conscious Spatial Awareness dial, and once I checked the description, I realized why. This prevented Dorian from teleporting directly into an object and killing herself.

  Useful.

  But how does the teleportation work?

  I started checking folders on her drive for answers. I wasn’t going to be able to parse through an explanation on quantum teleportation, but at least I could get a sense of what was going on.

  The only problem was, her drive was pretty much empty. No videos, no PDFs of various facilities, no extra notes about her abilities or the project, no nothing.

  I had the notion of going back into her teleportation ability and adjusting the speed down, but I figured that even being able to teleport at a speed of one would allow her to move away faster than we could do anything about.

  And what if she was teleporting when Veronique touched her and both of them disappeared? That would be monstrously shitty.

  So I left things as they were.

  It was late. I was no longer drunk, but I was a little loopy, and I really wanted to get some work done the following day. Ha. Even after all this, I was planning to write the next day.

  You see what I mean when I say writing is a sickness?

  Rather than debate the voice in my head, or scold myself for not hitting my word count, or get out my new laptop and check my book stats, I decided to wash my sins away.

  I took a brief shower, washed my writer bits, and thankfully, no one joined me this time. Once I toweled off and was feeling fresh to death, I popped my head into the first room, announcing to the two women that I was going to sleep.

  My phone buzzed, just as I got into the bed.

  Where the fuck are you? I’m giving you some real data here and you still aren’t here? Ever heard of an airplane? Don’t be a dumbass. This is happening now, happening fast, and they may start moving people if you don’t hurry up and get here, so whatever you’re doing, stop doing it.

  Get your ass to Texas.

  -David Butler

  Dumbass? Is this dude drunk?

  I wasn’t about to call off the trip just yet, especially due to the fact that Grace had seen Mother in the picture taken in Austin, b
ut I was glad to be visiting David with Veronique and Grace at my side. The guy may or may not be stable, and if he wasn’t stable, it’d be helpful to have some muscle around.

  Speaking of muscle, I was just about to nod off when Grace entered the room and flicked off all but one of the lights.

  Chapter Ten: Pornographic Insight

  “Come to the edge of the bed,” Grace said as she changed her form. The change started from the center point of her body and worked its way out, a ripple of color and skin and clothing immediately settling into place.

  She now wore a neon yellow fishnet halter top with matching bikini bottoms and a pair of high heels – also yellow – with six-inch stilettos.

  The strip club, I thought as she approached the bed, hips swaying.

  No noobs in the room this time.

  I moved to the corner of the bed and sat up, erect in two ways.

  Once she reached me, Grace swept her long hair over her shoulder and turned her back to me. She sat down on my lap, just as she had seen the strippers do in the club, and as she gyrated her hips, my mood changed from sleepy and concerned to happy-go-lucky – or better, happy to get lucky.

  “How do you want me?” she asked as her skin began to darken.

  Her hair thickened, braids formed, and her hip size increased. A black woman now, Grace twisted around and kissed me. As we kissed, her form began to morph again, this time changing into a light-skinned Asian woman with bleached blonde hair and a Monroe piercing.

  She stood, bent before me so I could get a good peachy view, and touched the tops of her high heels, swaying her ass back and forth.

  The color of her thong and Neon halter-top went from yellow to purple as her skin turned caramel, her hair long and flowing, her features that of someone from Latin America.

  She turned to face me, her hands covering her nipples as she moved her shoulders up and down.

  I licked my lips, thanked Jeebus, promised to curb my wicked ways, and finally, reached my hand out.

  She slapped it away. “No touching,” she purred as she turned her back to me and lowered herself onto my lap again. She resumed gyrating her hips against me. “They’ll kick you out of the club.”