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Pucker Up

Page 21

by R. A. Gates


  with.

  After setting the brush down on

  the bathroom counter, Athena crossed

  her arms over her chest and watched Ivy

  fidget with the dress again. “So, how

  many?”

  Ivy tore her eyes away from the

  mirror to see Athena arch one perfectly-

  plucked eyebrow. “How many what?”

  Huffing a humorless laugh,

  Athena leaned back against the door.

  “Look at you, trying to play dumb. It

  doesn't suit you. How many have you

  killed?”

  She really didn't want to have

  this

  conversation

  right

  now,

  but

  considering how nice Athena was acting,

  she relented. “Actually, I hadn't killed

  anyone, until my magic made its

  appearance and flattened out an entire

  forest. My friend Ernie and I had always

  managed to handle a situation without

  bloodshed.”

  “Wow, that's... really boring.

  Had you ever even been in a fight?”

  “A few, mainly with fae. I was

  only sixteen when I left.” It sounded

  even more pathetic when she said it out

  loud. She sat on the edge of the tub and

  shoved her leg into the gold hooker-

  boots Athena demanded she wear. She

  looked like a slutty leprechaun.

  She helped Athena clean up the

  mess of make-up and hair clips, tossing

  them back into her bag. “Do you think

  Garren will ever speak to me again?”

  The cold shoulder he’d given her since

  lunch was expected, but it still stung.

  “I didn’t think you cared,”

  Athena said.

  “I don’t,” she said quickly. “But

  it’s going to get rather annoying if he

  keeps ignoring me. Thane got over it.

  Why can’t he?”

  “That’s because Thane’s ruled

  by reason and logic where Garren lets

  his emotions take control. Even though

  he’d never admit it, he needs a gesture

  on your part to get past your betrayal.”

  At first, she balked at the idea

  that Garren even had any feelings based

  on his past treatment of her. But when

  she thought about it, he did tend to react

  without thinking. It was like dealing with

  a child.

  “So what you’re saying is that I

  need to do something to sooth his ego.”

  Athena nodded. “Exactly. That’s

  why I chose that dress for you to wear.”

  Her brow furrowed as she

  looked down at her gaudy outfit.

  “What?”

  “Is this a dress you would pick

  out yourself?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you embarrassed to wear it

  out in public?”

  “Extremely.”

  “That’s the gesture that’s going

  to get Garren to talk to you again; your

  utter humiliation for the good of the

  group.”

  She glanced at her reflection one

  more time and winced at the bright

  colors of gold and green. Mortified

  better described how she felt being seen

  like that. “Couldn’t I just apologize and

  offer to do his homework for the rest of

  the year?”

  “Nope.”

  She sighed. “Are we finished

  yet? Or do you have something else to

  torture me with?”

  Athena smoothed down her pale,

  pink dress. “We're done.” She pulled her

  blond hair over one shoulder to show off

  her scars from when she was infected. It

  was a werewolf thing.

  The iridescent Eradicator mark

  on her right wrist glinted off the

  bathroom light. “Do you have something

  to cover this up? I don't' think my leather

  bracelet goes with this outfit.”

  Athena smeared some concealer

  over Ivy’s wrist and gave her a gold

  bangle to wear. The werewolf’s eyes

  traveled up and stopped at the sapphire

  around her neck.

  “That’s got to go. It ruins the

  whole outfit.” She reached to take it off

  when Ivy clamped her hand over the

  stone.

  “I’m not going anywhere without

  it.”

  “Ivy, it clashes. Besides, you

  shouldn’t use it in the club. With all the

  witches, fae and anything else with

  magic there, you’ll wear yourself out in

  minutes trying to hide everyone. Best to

  leave temptation at home.”

  Reluctantly, she handed the

  sapphire to Athena. After making sure

  all the last minute touches were

  complete, the girls left the safety of the

  bathroom to find Garren and Thane

  lounging on the beds, channel surfing.

  She was so embarrassed for

  anyone to see her that Athena had to push

  her through the door. “Here she is. All

  cleaned up and in a dress.”

  “You look real nice,” Thane said

  as he hopped off the bed. Garren

  followed and stood next to Athena.

  Ivy smiled and gestured at his

  clothes with a wave of her hand. “Um,

  thanks. You, too.”

  Both guys were wearing their

  jeans and button down shirts. Garren

  eyed her with a scowl on his face. The

  intensity of his gaze was messing with

  her already wavering self-esteem. She

  crossed her arms over her chest in an

  attempt to hide herself.

  If this doesn’t prove I’m on his

  side, nothing will.

  “You look... different,” he said,

  his eyes widening slightly as he

  scrutinized her outfit.

  At least he’s talking to me.

  “Different? Wow, you sure know how to

  make a girl feel special.”

  He grinned, dimpling his cheek.

  “Well, you know me.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “All right,” Athena said. “We all

  know what we need to do. Try not to be

  too obvious. We don't need some

  nutcase following us.” She handed Ivy a

  dagger, which she hid in her boot, just in

  case. “Thane, I want you sticking close

  to Ivy.”

  Thane crinkled his brow in

  confusion. “Why? I thought we were

  supposed to split up to cover more

  ground.”

  Athena exhaled loudly before

  explaining. “Well, look at her. She's

  hot.”

  “Maybe I should just stay

  behind,” she said. The idea of attracting

  so much male attention made her queasy.

  Rolling her eyes, Athena grabbed

  her purse and guided Ivy out the door.

  “They're just going to flirt with you, Ivy,

  not attack you. The worst you'll get is an

  ear infection from all the cheesy pick-up

  lines.”

  Ivy had to grab onto Garren for

  support as she teetered down the motel

  stairs. Her boots were going to kill her

  before any Eradi
cator had a chance.

  It didn't take long before they

  were parking the car at the rail yards.

  Over 200 acres of land with abandoned

  buildings and train cars which were

  once the focus of the burgeoning city.

  Sparky curled up in the backseat and

  slept.

  Ivy hesitated, glancing back at

  the little dragon, then shook her head as

  she followed the others. I pity the idiot

  that tries to steal this car.

  The foursome slipped through a

  hole in the chain-link fence, and made

  their way in the dark to the cluster of

  long, brick, train houses. The moonlight

  reflected off the broken windows and

  rusted metal roofs. The only sound was

  their own footsteps clumping on the

  ground and the passing cars of the

  highway on the edge of the lot.

  She worried this was the wrong

  place, but when they opened the wooden

  side door, the blaring music and flashing

  lights spilled out and consumed them.

  “We need some sort of signal if

  one of us gets into trouble,” Thane

  suggested as they entered the crowded

  bar.

  “Fine,” Athena said. “How

  about... pumpernickel?”

  The lighting was dim, except for

  the bright colors that swam around the

  room. The center of the room was filled

  with people bumping and rubbing all

  over each other to the beat of the music,

  in what was supposed to be dancing.

  Tall, round tables sat along the

  perimeter of the spacious room where

  couples and small groups huddled

  together, drinking and talking. The bar

  ran the length of the long wall opposite

  the entrance. Most of the stools were

  occupied with flirting patrons nursing

  their drinks.

  She was overwhelmed with the

  assortment of magical beings there.

  Salmagundi had a varied population, but

  nothing like this. In the few minutes she'd

  been there, she spotted werewolves,

  satyrs, faeries, a couple drunk elves and,

  of course, wizards and witches.

  All chatter ceased when they

  walked in, every head turned their way.

  A figurative spotlight shone on her as

  she made her way across the floor to the

  bar.

  Athena immediately broke away

  from them and headed straight toward

  the group of werewolves. They occupied

  the corner of the club where couches

  were grouped together into a square. The

  three remaining were on their own,

  again.

  After a few moments, people

  went back to their conversations,

  ignoring them. Ivy sat on an empty stool

  at the bar, next to a punk rock satyr. The

  flashing disco lights gleamed off the

  metal studs lining his black leather

  jacket and his face was full of piercings.

  As soon as she sat down, he

  pulled his seat closer and leaned in.

  “Hello, love. Can I buy you a drink?” He

  spoke with the most wonderful British

  accent.

  She smiled and nodded. “I'll

  have a Poison Apple.” The nice thing

  about underground bars is that they didn't

  card.

  Thane took the stool on her other

  side, nervously glancing around. Garren

  stood behind her, leaning against the

  wooden railing circling the dance floor.

  He surveyed the area around him, but

  didn't move to speak to anyone. She

  caught his eye during one of his sweeps.

  “Talk,” she mouthed.

  Her attention was stolen when

  her drink was set down in front of her.

  She'd never tasted a Poison Apple, but

  heard they were delicious. She took a

  sip and her face practically caved in.

  The satyr chuckled in her ear. “I

  take it you've never had one before.

  They tend to be a bit sour.”

  She finally swallowed and

  smiled back, being polite. “Just a bit. I

  think my face might implode.”

  His warm laugh put her at ease.

  “What's your name, love?”

  She leaned in close to be heard

  over the blaring music and talking

  echoing off the walls. He wore a

  wonderful cologne that teased her nose

  in the most delicious way.

  “I'm Ivy.” This close up, she

  could make out intricate designs carved

  into his horns atop his head. His hair

  was a nice chocolate brown and she

  wondered if it matched the fur on his

  goat legs.

  “Ivy? Are you a fae?”

  She gritted her teeth as she

  answered, “No.”

  “Well, it’s a lovely name for a

  beautiful woman. I’m Ralph.”

  She had to look the other way to

  hide the blush rushing to her cheeks. She

  didn't know if it was the beautiful part or

  being referred to as a woman that caught

  her by surprise. Flirting was hard.

  Next to her, a lovely, but much

  older, blue faery talked to Thane with a

  smile on her lips. There was something

  about him that sure attracted the cougars.

  A hand squeezed her knee,

  bringing her attention back to the satyr.

  Not wanting to be rude but also not

  wanting to encourage him, she patted his

  hand before removing it from her leg and

  placing it on his own. All while smiling

  warmly, of course.

  Ralph's hand then snaked its way

  to the exposed skin on the top of her

  back, underneath her hair. A shiver ran

  down her spine. Instead of shrugging him

  off like she was inclined to do, she

  picked up her drink and took a big sip.

  She forgot the shock of sour that hit her

  last time. Her eyes watered as she

  forced herself to swallow.

  Ralph chuckled as he rubbed

  small circles on her upper back. “You'll

  get used to it, love.”

  She was about to ask him what

  he knew about Prince Sebastian when

  his arm was forcefully pulled away.

  They both spun around to see Garren

  holding onto Ralph's wrist.

  “Hands off,” Garren said, glaring

  at the satyr.

  Ralph wrenched his arm away

  and stood up to face Garren. The satyr

  was taller, but Garren had him beat in

  bulk.

  “Bugger off. The lady's with

  me,” Ralph said. They stood facing each

  other in silence. She was about to

  separate them, when a beautiful woman

  with ebony skin beat her to it.

  “Care to dance?” she asked

  Garren.

  He looked to Ivy, waiting for her

  to say something. She nodded her head,

  encouraging him to go with the woman.

  The woman was a werewolf, by

  the look of the scars she proudly wore

  on her arm. She led him to the dance

  floor where he wra
pped his arms around

  her delicate frame.

  “Who was that bloke?” Ralph

  asked as he sat back down.

  “No one special.” She peeked

  back over her shoulder to see Garren

  smiling and laughing with the woman, as

  if they were a couple. She ignored that

  little twinge in her chest as she smiled

  over at Ralph.

  “So Ralph, how long have you

  been in...”

  The mark on her wrist burned

  more intensely than it had since entering

  the bar. Only one creature still had that

  effect on her anymore. A horrible

  sensation washed over her that she'd

  only felt a few times in her life. It felt

  like tiny icicles stabbing her all over her

  skin. She went on alert; muscles tensed,

  heart sped up and adrenaline coursed

  through her veins.

  A pale hand tapped Ralph on the

  shoulder. “I said…” he started as he

  turned, but his next words died on his

  lips as he came face to face with the

  intruder. Blood drained from his face as

  his mouth dropped open. “Well, it... it

  was nice talking to you, Ivy,” he

  stammered before he slunk away.

  Coward.

  She

  stared

  straight

  ahead,

  counting the bottles of liquor lining the

  shelves behind the bartender. Out of the

  corner of her eye, a man dressed in

  black took the seat Ralph vacated.

  He didn't say anything for a good

  two minutes as she sat frozen in her seat.

  It dawned on her, then, that she didn't

  have to stay there. The club was huge

  and a girl had to make her rounds, right?

  Without a word to her new

  neighbor, she moved to stand, when a

  cold hand clamped onto hers. She

  flinched at the touch and tried to yank

  her hand free, but he held on. She finally

  turned to glare at the man next to her.

  His short black hair and almond

  shaped eyes spoke of an Asian heritage,

  most likely Korean. He was handsome

  and appeared to be older than her by

  only a few years, though it could have

  been centuries.

  Then it happened. He revealed

  himself when he smiled. “Hello, Ivy,” he

  said, the light glinting off his pearly

  white fangs.

  Her mind went blank. What was

  it? Sourdough? Rye? When finally she

  found the word, her voice barely rose

  above a whisper. “Pumpernickel.”

  Chapter 16

  “Pardon?” The corners of his

  eyes crinkled as the vampire smiled at

  Ivy.

  She racked her brain for any

  excuse to get away from him but nothing

  came to her as she gazed into his black

 

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