by Lila Dubois
“Oh, sorry,” Seling said, regretting that he’d scared Lance. “Are you looking for me? I know I’m late. I just need to change.”
“Good, good, go to makeup.”
“Makeup? I thought I was supposed to go to wardrobe first.”
“Right, go there first.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m just helping out. We sent all the PAs and talent wranglers on errands.”
“Okay.” Seling wasn’t sure exactly why Lance was so jumpy. They’d only met a few times, since Lance’s job was to find actors who could be trusted to keep their secret.
“Can you hand me some pants?” Seling asked, since Lance hadn’t moved.
“Ah, sorry, I’m in your way. Here.” Lance handed him the pants just inside the door and jumped down.
Seling heard rushing footsteps behind him. He turned, expecting to see someone hurrying towards him, but there was nothing. He frowned. The sound of the footsteps had stopped.
“Seling?” Lance asked.
“Yeah?”
“Everything okay?”
“I thought I heard someone coming towards us, but I don’t see anyone.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Go to wardrobe.” With that parting comment, Lance took off, walking quickly.
Seling dug down inside himself where the spell Maeve had given him was curled up, pulsing with magic. He pulled on it and felt the change overtake him. Where his true form ripped through the human skin, this transformation was less gruesome, though no less painful. He felt his body heat and then start to tremble, as if he’d been flying or running for hundreds of miles. There were pops as shrinking bones moved to new formations. His fingers tingled as his talons shrank down into thin, weak human nails. Now human again, he took a moment to reorient himself to being smaller and weaker than he was used to. With a sigh, he pulled on his pants and headed for wardrobe. He saw Nell, the location scout, walking towards him. He raised his hand and waved, but she ducked between two trucks.
Seling lowered his hand.
What was going on today? Had all the humans gone mad?
Shaking his head, he picked up his pace, hoping to find one of his Clans-men on the set. Maybe one of them could make sense of what was going on.
Chapter Eight
Oren and Maeve
Oren and Maeve got back into his car.
“When we find her, I will talk to her.” Maeve’s voice was cold, and for a moment Oren thought the temperature in the car dropped, so much so that he saw his breath. A shiver wracked him and the hair on his arms stood on end.
In the next moment, the car was back to normal temperature.
Oren looked suspiciously at Maeve, who was sitting primly with her hands in her lap.
“When you say talk to her...”
“I mean I will touch her and look into her past and see who it is that gave her the photos.”
“And you’re not going to hurt her or make her pass out.”
“She’s a danger to my people.”
“I was afraid you’d say that. Let me rephrase. You can’t make her pass out or kill her in the middle of a Coffee Bean without a whole lot of consequences.”
“Fine. I will hurt her later.”
“Is there any chance of me convincing you not to hurt her at all?”
“No.”
“Okay then.” Oren blew out his breath. It wasn’t the poor blogger’s fault. He’d just have to whisk Maeve away as soon as possible. “We need to make one stop first.”
“Where?”
“The store. As delightful as you look in that short dress, it’s a bit...odd.”
Maeve looked down at herself. “Henry said he got it in Hollywood.”
“That explains why it says I love Los Angeles in glitter, but I think some more normal clothes that make you not look like a tourist would be good.”
Also, she needed to cover up more or Oren was going to die from the perpetual semi he was sporting.
“I need to blend in?” Maeve asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Let’s go buy clothes.”
Oren took her to Target. He had no idea where women bought clothes, but the last time he’d braved the crush to buy toilet paper and a massive tub of Red Vines, he’d gotten lost in a section of women’s clothes, so he knew the store had them.
They parked and Oren led her in, already regretting his decision. She looked around with interest.
“Have you ever been in a human store before?”
“Once my people had the ability to shift into human forms, they started going to the human stores. We live off the land, but it is too cold at our home to farm fruit or vegetables, so we enjoy buying those. Plus we needed garments for our human forms.”
“Okay, but have you ever been?”
“They let me go, once.”
Oren was starting to get a bad feeling about Maeve. The way she referred to herself in reference to the other monsters made it sound like she was not on equal footing with them. She was a grown woman who looked more human than they did, and yet they hadn’t let her go to the store?
What was that about?
Then Oren remembered her saying that they feared her because she was dangerous.
Holy shit, she’s River. Pretty, mysterious and deadly.
Oren closed his eyes and took a breath, prepared to lead her through the madness of the store, while watching out for signs that she might suddenly go into ninja mode.
She was gone.
“This is bad,” Oren muttered to himself. He scanned the people filling the aisles and a caught a glimpse of dark hair. Threading his way through the throng, he found her in women’s lingerie.
“Maeve, there you are.”
“You were taking too long standing there thinking.”
“Could you tell what I was thinking?”
“You’re worried about me, afraid of me.”
“No, I’m...is there any point in lying to you?”
“No.”
Her head was bowed over a rack of bras and Oren felt like an ass. He was sure that was what every woman wanted, for a man to be scared of them and think they were dangerous. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. A few things you said just made me wonder. You did say that the other monsters are scared of you, that you’re dangerous.”
“I am dangerous.”
“Okay, well, I’m sorry. It was a rude thing to say.”
“Why?” She pulled a bra off the rack—green with black lace. His eyes dropped to her chest, mentally putting the bra on her before he could stop himself. “I am dangerous. You would be foolish to forget that.”
She grabbed a few more bras, then some G-strings in the same green and black. Oren turned his back to her and took deep breaths.
“I try this on now, right? That’s what they do in movies.”
“Yes. I think there are dressing rooms over there.”
“Are you coming?”
“Uh, sure.”
By the time they got to the dressing rooms, Oren’s arms were full of clothes and he was starting to understand why she was dangerous.
Maeve slipped on the next pair of panties. These ones seemed to fit. She checked her ass in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction.
She’d figured out her bra size through trial and error. Now wearing the bra and panty set, she turned to the clothes. As she moved, she was aware of the smooth fabric on her breasts. Curious, she rubbed her palms over them. Arousal crept through her, and Oren’s image popped into her head. Maeve shook herself and went back to the clothes.
At home she wore clothes made of fur and heavy human-made hiking boots. She had human-made socks, plain T-shirts and cotton athletic shorts which she wore under the skins, since those were easy for someone to pick up for her. She’d never asked any of the males to get her underwear when they went into town shopping because she didn’t know what to ask for or what size she was.
Maeve now realized she could have gone herself.
&n
bsp; She never ventured out among the humans because she always assumed that if she were surrounded by so many of them, their feelings and wants would overwhelm her. Even a casual brush might cause her to See their past or future, and if she Saw something there that indicated they were a danger to her people, she would not hesitate to kill them.
But her own wants and needs grounded her and blocked out the humans. She needed clothes to blend in and wanted the pretty lingerie like she’d seen in TV and movies.
A salesperson stopped outside the door, asking if she needed help. Maeve opened the door and pulled her in to check the fit of a long, loose dress in bright yellow.
She did it thoughtlessly, without considering the ramifications. As her fingers closed around the woman’s bare elbow, she felt the Everafter. Maeve sucked in a breath and focused on her reflection in the mirror. Gray filled the edges of her vision. Through sheer will, she mastered her need to See, and the pressure around her eyes lifted, the gray fog swirling away.
“Miss?” The salesperson sounded uncertain.
“Yes?”
“Did you, uh, need something?”
“Oh, yes, this dress, is this the right size?”
The salesperson, a young blonde girl, took a step back and considered her. “It’s a bit too big. Let me get you a smaller size.” She looked over at the massive pile of clothes on the bench. “Are you buying a summer wardrobe?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Ohh, okay. It’s kinda slow back here, so I’m going to help you. I go to FIDM.”
Maeve had no idea what the girl was talking about, but her pride in what she’d just said was so strong that Maeve said, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. You know, you can actually do some really stylish stuff with the clothes here. You just have to mix and match and maybe do some alteration.”
“I don’t do alterations.” Maeve wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what they were.
“You can have your dry cleaner do it. I assume, with that hair, that you have an urban hippie look going.”
“Maybe,” Maeve said. She knew what hippies were, but wasn’t sure what urban hippie meant. “But I want to be sexy. And powerful.”
“You know you’re at Target, right?”
Maeve just stared at her.
“Okay, we can do this.” The girl started picking through the clothes, throwing some things over the door, while hanging others up. “Try those ones on. I’ll be back in a few.”
Maeve pulled off the sundress she had on and handed it over.
“Oh, and is that your boyfriend out there?”
“My boyfriend?”
“The good-looking older guy?”
Maeve didn’t think Oren was “older.” He was probably only in his forties, which was young by Maeve’s standards, but then again, to this girl he probably was old.
“Yes, that’s my…boyfriend.”
“Okay, I figured since he’s just out there looking bored. We’ll get you a good outfit and then you can show him.”
Maeve turned to the items hung on the door. She selected a dark gray top with loose sleeves and bits of metal around the neck and put it on. It scooped low over her breasts, clung to her waist and flowed over her arms.
Maeve smiled. This was fun.
Oren cursed as he overshot his bird. Tired of playing a game, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and stretched out his legs, nodding to the other bored-looking guy also waiting on the bench outside the dressing rooms. He’d clearly made a tactical mistake bringing Maeve here. If the salesperson who’d been bustling in and out while assuring him they were almost ready for the “fashion show” was any indication, Maeve planned to buy half the store.
And since she didn’t have a purse with her and there was no way she was hiding a wallet under that skimpy dress, Oren also had a bad feeling he’d be buying the clothes for her.
A middle-aged woman walked out with one thing in her arms and the guy beside him left. Oren sighed.
“Are you ready?”
The blonde salesperson, looking exceptionally perky in her red polo, clasped her hands together and smiled.
“Uh, yes.”
“Your girlfriend looks amazing.”
“She’s not—” But the salesperson left, and Maeve emerged from the dressing room. She wore leggings and a one-shoulder top made of alternating bands of opaque and mesh fabric. A wide piece of fabric over her breasts kept it decent, but he could see the pale skin of her belly though the mesh panels. With her long rope of hair hanging over her bare shoulder, Maeve looked like a celebrity caught by the paparazzi while out doing errands.
“Wow, you look so...” He almost said human, but then caught himself. “Good.”
“Thank you.” Maeve held her arms out to her sides and looked down at herself. When she looked up, she was smiling. In that moment, Oren didn’t care how long this took or how much it cost. It was worth it for that smile. “This is fun.”
Oren laughed as Maeve returned to her dressing room. He saw her in skinny jeans and tank tops, short lacy dresses with wide belts and long summery things. Most of the clothes she picked were in tones of silver or pale green, both of which suited her. He commented, admired and even led Maeve in an impromptu waltz when she declared that the dress was made for dancing.
Finally she said, “This is the last one,” as she held out her arms.
Oren motioned for a twirl with his finger. The gray knee-length shorts showed off her calves and slender ankles. On top she wore a pastel green tank top with a plunging neckline. A ribbon held it together over her breasts. When she turned, he saw that there was almost no back to the top, just another piece of ribbon.
“You’re beautiful.”
Maeve licked her lips, examining him from beneath her lashes. “You really think so?”
“I really do.”
She closed her eyes. “You want me—I can feel it.”
Oren jumped to his feet. “We should go.” He motioned to the salesclerk to give him the cart with the clothes she’d bought.
“She can’t wear those out.”
“But I want to.”
“Can you ring us up here?” Oren asked.
“But weren’t you going to go get shoes?” The salesclerk looked horrified.
“Ohh, shoes!” Maeve wandered away, still wearing the unpurchased clothes.
Twenty minutes later, and with five pairs of shoes in their arms, Oren and Maeve returned to the counter at the dressing rooms.
Another twenty minutes later, and four hundred dollars poorer, Oren and Maeve went to his car, each with an armful of bags. Maeve was wearing a long dress and heeled sandals. As they got in, she pulled her skirt up to her knees and admired her shoes.
Oren shook his head. This day really couldn’t get any weirder.
And yet, he was happy. Happy in a way he didn’t recall ever being before.
“Thank you.” Maeve tentatively touched his arm. “Thank you for my clothes. I forgot that I would need money.”
“It was my pleasure.” And, weirdly, it had been.
“Now the blogger woman won’t suspect than I am anything but human.” Maeve’s smile turned into a snarl-like grin.
“No, she won’t, but maybe don’t make that face.”
Maeve’s expression relaxed and she fluttered her lashes at him. “Is this better?”
“Don’t do that either.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me want to kiss you.”
Silence filled the car. That wasn’t what Oren had meant to say, but he wasn’t sorry he’d said it.
Maeve said nothing.
Oren hadn’t expected her to be attracted to him. And it was a good thing, because clearly she wasn’t.
He parked at a meter down the street from the coffee shop they were headed to. “We’re here.”
It took Maeve a second to understand what he’d said. She was still focused on him saying he wanted to kiss her.
Men desiring her was no
thing new to her, though among her own kind she was too human-looking to be really attractive. But females were scarce, so she’d always had male attention. At least until she’d come into her full power. Much knowledge had been lost when the banshees immigrated to America, and even more was lost when they stopped living as their own clan and joined with the great Clan. Maeve’s father had been of the same breed as Michael, her mother a full banshee. Her mother had died when she was young, and so Maeve had been left to figure out her powers on her own.
She’d been watching her Clan bicker and fight as the inevitable of war with humans or mass suicide grew nearer. She’d frantically searched the Everafter for the answer they needed. When none came, she put herself into a trance and decided to try it another way, searching the past instead of the future. Some of the breeds possessed ancestral memory, and it was from one of them that she’d been able to find a moment recorded in the Everafter. Long ago a spell weaver had figured out a way to turn from monster to human and back. The moment had been so important, both in his life and in others’ lives, that even half a millennium later she’d been able to find it in the Everafter.
All she’d needed was to know it was possible. It took her many years, and many failed attempts, but she’d created the spell that allowed them to change, and in doing that was declared the Seer of her people.
After that, no one desired her. They feared and respected her. It had been a lonely fifty years.
“Maeve?”
She shook herself, looking at Oren. He wouldn’t meet her gaze. She reached out, wanting to know his feelings, but he opened the door and got out of the car.
If he wanted to kiss her, then why was he walking away?
Maeve climbed out and followed him down the sidewalk. They would talk about his desire to kiss her later. Right now, it was time to find the person who was threatening her people.
When searching for information about who leaked the photos, Oren had read through three months’ worth of blog posts. Despite the constant references to “we”, Oren was fairly sure the blog was run by a single person. The language was too consistent to be two people. Though the blogger never used a name, they mentioned clubs they’d been to and L.A. dining hot spots. Some of those entries included references to “dates who couldn’t keep their dick in their pants”, which made Oren assume that it was a woman, though he knew it was just as likely to be a gay guy. The other thing that he’d learned was that the blogger hung out, apparently all day, at a coffee shop not far from the Screen Actors Guild headquarters. There was a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf across the street with an outdoor patio. Oren himself had been there a few times while waiting for friends who had business at the SAG offices.
