by Radclyffe
“She is not here.”
I am slipping now. There is nothing under me.
“But I am here.”
Voices shout to the ends of the world.
“And I am Legion.”
Oh God, oh please. Not like this. I beg you.
There are so many of her now.
I am burning.
Yes, but I alone, I am that burn.
Aimee, I know now.
Oh, Aimee, I know.
Deadly Glamour
L.L. Raand
I’m a tracker. I spend most of my time chasing down renegade Sidhe who manage to seduce, bribe, or cajole the gatekeepers into letting them pass out of Faerie into the terra plane. My typical quarry isn’t very bright or they wouldn’t risk the Queen’s wrath if caught—and I always catch them. Corralling them usually doesn’t take long. I spend as little time as possible here, where I have to conceal my true self, even from the Others. Like most Sidhe, I don’t support the Praetern exodus from the shadows that has made us all visible—and vulnerable. Besides, Weres, Vampires, and any of the human variations aren’t nearly as satisfying as the Sidhe, or Fae as most of the world calls us, when it comes to matters of the flesh. I’d already been here longer than I wanted, but unfortunately, this mission was the most important in my long life, and if I wanted that life to continue, I needed to be successful. And quickly.
Just after midnight, I stood in a run-down parking lot that resembled an automotive junkyard, staring at a dilapidated one-story building with boarded-up windows, an unmarked door, and a roof that looked as if it might take flight with the next wind. Underneath my combat boots, the concrete surface was cracked and heaving, veined with clumps of scraggly weeds and crabgrass. If I didn’t know this was Nocturne, one of the city’s busiest and most notorious Vampire clubs, and if I hadn’t tracked my quarry across worlds and through the back alleys of the seedier parts of Albany to this waterfront dive, I would have sworn the place was abandoned.
But I knew she was here. Jaelynn de Erinn, Crown Princess of the Seelie court and next in line to follow Queen Cecelia as ruler of all Faerie. Jael was the Queen’s niece, the daughter of the Queen’s brother Karn, and as the matriarchal court was always ruled by a Queen and her consort, Jael was heir until Queen Cecelia had a daughter. I needed to return Jael to safety before anyone outside the Court realized she was missing—not only would her absence prove lethal to her Royal Guardians, led by my twin sister, but Jael was a virgin and would remain so by law until she ascended to the Throne of Thrones. If she was violated here on this plane, there would be war.
Wrapping my glamour around me, I changed my outward appearance to resemble a Were. My ability to control my outward appearance was something shared with all the Sidhe, but the speed with which I could assume a different shape and the duration I could maintain the illusion was part of my Changeling heritage and what made me so successful as a tracker. I could go anywhere and even another Sidhe would not be able to read through my glamour. The Princess would be glamoured, too, but whereas I could see through her illusion, she would not be able to see through mine.
Inside, the club was larger than most Vampire blood spots, and subtly more elegant. The ceiling lights, recessed behind exposed beams, reflected off the battered tin ceiling and provided just enough illumination for the predators to find their prey. Leather couches and sofas were scattered around the cavernous space in loose arrangements designed for group activity. Scaffolds and slings with nearby racks of whips and restraints were tucked into corners for those who wanted a physical warmup before their meal. A long, highly polished bar encompassed the far wall, fronted by leather-topped stools filled with humans and Weres waiting to host for the Vampire clientele.
The Vampire enforcers at the door studied me for a few seconds, recognizing I was a stranger. Unlike most Fae glamour, mine was more than an illusion projected to confound the observer. Mine was an actual physical change—I became what I envisioned, including sexually. Without glamour, I was female—with glamour, I could be either male or female. Tonight, I chose a female Were form, knowing Were females exercised total control over who they accepted as partners. I wasn’t looking for sex. The Princess would undoubtedly be in Were form also, and she most definitely would be looking for sex—in any form. The enforcers let me pass and I made my way through the milling bodies toward the bar, taking advantage of the accepted voyeurism that was part of the club atmosphere to search for Jael. Although still early in the night, the feeding had already begun. I passed a female Were leaning against a column, a male Vampire kneeling between her legs. Her claw-tipped fingers, highlighted by a shaft of light from above, twisted convulsively in the long hair at the back of his neck in time with the orgasm that rippled along the surface of her naked thighs. Ahead of me, a partially nude human female curled in the lap of a female Vampire, her head thrown back, a tiny trickle of blood streaming down her throat as the Vampire fed. The human’s eyes were open, but glazed as if sightless, her lips parted in a rictus of ecstasy, her hips undulating, rising and falling to the thrust of the elegant wrist between her legs.
I concentrated on the hosts serving two or three Vampires. Only the Weres, or a Fae masquerading as one, had the stamina to feed more than one host, although here and there a daring human lay stretched out like a sacrifice, Vampires feeding from neck and breast and groin. Jael would want to maximize her moments of freedom. Rumor had it she did not want the Crown, and her escape might be designed to destroy her acceptability as heir. The air was thick with the scent of blood and sex and vibrated with the sounds of pleasure.
I headed deeper into the room, scanning right and left for the Princess as I walked. Two bartenders worked behind the crowded bar, a large human male, clearly a blood servant as evidenced by the bite marks peppering his thick neck and bare torso, and a svelte brunette Vampire who moved like a song on the wind. I angled toward the Vampire and stopped abruptly when a body blocked my way.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” a female Vampire said softly, her eyes drifting down over my body, then slowly climbing back to my face.
“I haven’t been here before,” I said, having learned the truth is always the best disguise. “I’m not from around here.”
She was young—at least she had been when she was turned—in her early twenties, cinnamon skinned with mahogany hair and deep green eyes. Those eyes sparked now with the red embers of a fully Risen Vampire, but her face retained a sweetness that made me think she hadn’t been risen long. Her white silk shirt was open between her full breasts, her leather skirt short, accentuating the curve of her hips and ass. She was attractive. More than attractive. Compelling, made more so by her surprising air of delicacy. I was resistant to thrall, as were most Sidhe. The Fae and the terran Praetern lines had diverged when our ancestors took us to the Faerie lands, and we had never been primary prey for the Vampires. When we hosted for them it was always voluntary, and always for pleasure.
She moved closer, undoubtedly expecting her thrall to have an effect on me since she perceived me as Were. If I resisted, my disguise would be questioned. Her palm against my chest was cool and her lips were silvery pale. The crimson in her eyes spread, a fire raging on the verge of explosion. She was hungry, and her need quivered through me. I covered her hand with mine. “Just you.”
Her breath was coming fast. Surprise flickered over her face and was quickly gone. “Are you new to this? Most Weres want multiple—”
“Not new. Selective.”
She smiled. “Then I’m lucky.”
She took my hand and I let her lead me along the bar and into the shadows. I searched as we walked. I still didn’t see the Princess.
When we stopped, I leaned against the curved corner of the bar and spread my legs, pulling her in between my thighs. She was trembling. This wouldn’t take long. I unbuttoned my shirt and slid her hand inside, molding her fingers to my breast. She gasped and, with a low groan, took my neck. The jolt of pleasure was not unexpecte
d, but still shocking. She was young, but she was powerful. Someone very strong had turned her. I groaned as her full, firm breasts pressed against my chest and lightning shot through my blood. My head snapped back, my body jerked into orgasm, and I felt her writhing against me as her own release pulsed with the rhythm of her feeding. I didn’t lose myself in her lust the way Weres and human hosts do, but I let the pleasure consume me until she pulled away. Shaking, tendrils of silken passion still curling through my core, I stroked her hair as she rested her forehead against my shoulder. When she finally stepped back, she studied me, a tiny frown between her arched brows. I could change my form, but I could not change my essence.
“Your blood has a flavor I’ve never tasted,” she murmured. “Like the smell of springtime.”
I stroked the arch of her cheek with my thumb. “And your bite is sweeter than any I’ve ever known.”
She smiled. “What is your name?”
“Torren,” I answered truthfully, and for some reason, I added, “and yours?”
“Daniela.”
“Daniela,” I murmured. “Beautiful.”
She traced the line of my jaw with her fingertips. “I hope you come back again.”
“If I do, I’ll look for you,” I said, kissing her palm. I wouldn’t be back, and an unexpected wave of sadness coursed through me.
I released her hand and she drifted away. I moved back into the feeding throng, working my way toward the hallway at the opposite corner of the room. I found her halfway down, sandwiched between a male and a female Vampire, her eyes glittering with excitement and lust. Through her glamour I saw the flush of her skin and the racing pulse in her throat. They hadn’t fed from her, but they would soon. The male’s hand was inside her open shirt and she stroked the ridge of his cock through his pants. The female who knelt before her had pushed her diaphanous skirt up and was alternately licking and sucking her sex. I needed to stop them before one or both bit her, but I couldn’t draw attention to her. The last thing I wanted was for her to drop her glamour and announce to everyone that the Fae Crown Princess was here unprotected.
I leaned against the opposite wall, letting them think I was only watching while I waited for an opening. Those around us were engaged in their own pursuit of pleasure, and paid us no attention. The Princess stared into my eyes, her full lips curving into an inviting smile. I smiled back, a fleeting image of the Vampire who had just fed from me racing through my mind. Another Vampire appeared out of the shadows, a gaunt, dark-haired male who said something to those with the Princess. They drew back rapidly and disappeared. Something about him alerted all my senses. He exuded power, and he was ancient. And for some reason, he sensed what the others could not—that this Were was something else. I let my glamour fall for an instant, and the Princess recognized me, her eyes widening. Then I moved to her, angling my body between her and this new figure.
“It’s time to leave, mate,” I said to the Princess.
“It’s early,” the Vampire said.
“And I intend to take advantage of the rest of the night with my mate,” I said pleasantly, taking the Princess’s hand. “I’ve had enough foreplay.”
He gripped my wrist. “Not yet.”
Ignoring his hold on me, I pulled the Princess behind me and faced him. “She’s not available.”
He snarled, his incisors glistening. “She’s not what she appears, either. Who are you?”
“No one you want to challenge.”
He laughed. “I believe I’ll have a taste.” He was fast, faster than I anticipated, and the blow came out of nowhere. My back struck the opposite wall, my head ringing from the strike on my jaw. He had the Princess by the arm and was pulling her toward a door at the far end of the hallway. I couldn’t let him take her. He left me little choice. I unsheathed the sword strapped to the center of my back, and with a move I’d made a thousand times before, jumped up the wall and raced toward them just below the ceiling. I dropped down beside him with an arcing sweep of my arms, the sword singing. His body vaporized as his head struck the floor. Sword in hand, I grasped the Princess’s arm and we raced toward the rear exit. A squadron of Vampires appeared out of nowhere and surrounded us.
“Drop your glamour,” I said, releasing mine. Pulling the Princess to my side, I straightened. “I am Torren de Brinna, tracker of the Seelie court, and we claim protection under the treaty between Cecelia, Queen of Faerie and the Vampire High Council.”
From behind me, a sultry voice said, “Unfortunately, you have just killed the senechal of one of the six Vampire Clan rulers in protected territory.”
I turned to face the female, a breathtaking seductress with crimson curls, milk white breasts, and a mouth that promised untold pleasures. Tipping my head, I said, “Greetings, Viceregal. I apologize for this infraction, but the Princess was in danger.”
“Understood,” she said. “And you must understand, I cannot allow this affront to go unpunished.”
“I do.”
Francesca, Viceregal of the Eastern territories, surveyed the Princess, shaking her head in amusement. “You are far from home, Jaelynn. If you had asked for an invitation, I would have been happy to accommodate.”
“Perhaps another time,” the Princess said.
“Oh, most definitely.” Francesca motioned to her guards. “Take them to my quarters.”
We were escorted through a series of security doors, down a long hallway, and into an opulent sitting room. A few moments later, Francesca appeared and sat down across from us on a maroon brocade settee. She stretched out her arms and crossed her legs, her black silk dress sliding up her thighs with a faint sigh.
“I’ve just had a discussion with your Queen.”
I waited. My fate was about to be decided.
“The Princess will return home, of course. Cecilia is sending the royal guards to escort her.” Francesca’s eyes met mine. “And you will remain here with me.”
“In what capacity, Viceregal?”
“In any capacity I desire—and I do find the Fae so very enjoyable.”
A blood slave. Ice trickled down my spine. “For how long?”
“A century—a very short punishment, considering the eternity you stole from the Vampire you beheaded.”
I could not fight back while the Princess was vulnerable. I nodded my assent. “As my Queen commands.”
Francesca smiled. “For the next one hundred years, as I command.”
The door opened and a Vampire entered. A Vampire I recognized.
“Daniela will show you to your quarters,” Francesca said.
“As the Regent wills,” I murmured, following Daniela to the door. Perhaps the next century would not be as bleak as I had anticipated.
Fresh Meat
Clara Nipper
So how did you injure your knee, Miss Morgan?” I sat, my hands poised over the keyboard, as I regarded the young woman sitting on the examining table. Her head was shaved and she had tattoos covering every inch of her skin.
“Just Josie. Um…car, I mean bicycle wreck?”
I studied her. “Bicycle wreck, really?” Josie had a black eye and multiple contusions on both arms, visible even through the vivid colors of her tattoos, and her legs looked as if she had been kicked repeatedly.
Josie bit her lip. “Bicycle, yeah.”
Turning my back to the computer, I said, “Listen, I didn’t just fall off the new nurse’s wagon. If you’re going to lie about domestic abuse, that’s your business, but at least come up with a more plausible story, okay? And…” I rolled over to the cabinet, rummaged in a drawer and handed her a business card. “Call this number. They can help you.”
Josie clenched her jaw, tore up the card, and let the pieces flutter to the floor. “You don’t understand.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. You love him. You’ve got kids and no money and no place to go. He only does it when he’s drunk. He really loves you. Please.”
Josie snarled, “You gonna help me or not?”
>
“Sure.” I returned to the keyboard and began entering information into the computer. “Under cause of injury, should I put natural-born idiot?”
Josie grinned maliciously. “Put anything you want. Just give me a brace and some meds and let me outta here. I have somewhere to be.”
“He’s downstairs in the car with his beer waiting for you so you can cook his dinner?” I was known as an outspoken and difficult nurse. It had gotten me in trouble. Reading from top to bottom, my name was Madeline Howard. I was thirty-two years old, single, stubborn, brown eyes, deep dimples, long brown hair that my last girlfriend described as sable, and a body that she called sinuous. I had to look up the word and liked it.
“Enough with this shit, okay? Stop with your self-righteous savior routine. You think if I really were a battered woman that making me feel worse would help? Where’s the doc?”
Abashed, I said, “On her way.”
Josie stared out the window. Silently, I took her blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. “So what did happen?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy, but it’s not abuse.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s exactly what a victim would say!”
“Roller derby!” Josie exploded. “Roller derby, all right? Consenting adult women bashing the hell out of each other on skates. Roller derby.”
I looked at her with new respect. “Why is that a secret?”
“Because everyone who finds out wants to join and we’re not accepting new members, so it’s usually easier to lie than to explain.”
“Derby, huh? My parents watched that on television in the seventies. All the tripping and fistfights, totally brutal. Fake, right?”
Josie rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God, you’re one of those. I’m so sick of hearing that, I could puke. We’re real athletes and the bouts are legit. It’s nothing like the television shows. We have fifty pages of rules to follow and we train hard.”
