by M. L. Ryan
“I know, but it seems to work for them.”
We continued to watch the dancers, although I spent a good deal of time trying to detect any animosity between Sylzinia and Ziqua or Uncle Fry and the boy toy. If anything, they all seemed to ignore each other. Eventually, some baron or duke invited Tannis to waltz, leaving me to my own devices. I was hoping Ziqua and Sylzinia’s beau might partner up on the dance floor just to spice up the evening, but no such luck.
“Care to dance?”
Engrossed in the spectacle, I hadn’t noticed I was no longer alone. The invitation came from a tall man, blond and athletically built. I had never met him before, but he looked enough like Alex to make me think they might be cousins.
I shook my head. “Thank you, but I prefer to watch.”
The corners of his mouth curved into a sly grin. “But you must, that is the point of a ball.”
I knew there’d be dancing, I didn’t realize I’d be expected to join in. Damn that worthless PA. He could have warned me.
“No, really. I can’t,” I sputtered, anxiety growing. “I don’t waltz.” Actually, the only slow dance of which I was capable was the kind where two people with no idea what they are doing clung to one another and swayed.
“Nonsense,” he stated, taking my hand and guiding me into the mass of swirling bodies. “It is all about having an experienced partner.”
I voiced my reluctance again, but short of making a scene, I didn’t think I had much choice but to comply. This is going to be a huge cluster fuck, I groaned to myself.
He stopped in an empty section toward the far edge, away from the musicians, and placed a hand on my waist. “Keep your eyes on mine; I will do all the work,” he directed, and off we went.
I did as he advised, mainly out of sheer terror. In fact, as soon as Fred Astaire took me in his arms, I felt only a comforting sense of calm. As long as I stared into his baby blues, he propelled me skillfully across the dance floor. Years of church socials filled with maladroit, clueless teens stumbling over one another had a way of souring one’s opinions, yet this was surprisingly exhilarating.
“You are good,” I observed. “I haven’t stepped on your feet once.” And I can speak and move at the same time.
He peered down at me and grinned. “I’d like to take full credit, milady, but you have a natural talent. Both beautiful and graceful.”
The comment was a bit forward, but I didn’t get the impression Fred was coming on to me. After all, he had to know who I was. I’d been introduced to the room as Alex’s fiancée.
When the dance ended, Fred bowed, and when he touched his lips to my knuckles, I didn’t mind at all. Somehow, the gesture seemed fine, considering we’d just been in each other’s arms.
He rose and treated me to another genial smile. “I hope we shall meet again. Perhaps I can show you around the area? What better way to see the sights than with a native?”
It did sound like fun, but I explained I’d have to let him know.
“Of course.” He smiled again, turned, and disappeared into the crowded hall. I was kind of sorry he left; Fred was the only person at the party who made an effort to interact with me.
Tannis emerged from the crowd holding two tumblers. “You never mentioned you could waltz,” she said, handing me a beverage.
“I can’t. I just had a fantastic partner.”
“Who was the grand master?”
I took a long sip, thankful she’d brought me an icy glass of water instead of wine. “You didn’t know him? I thought he was a member of the family.”
She tilted her head. “Why would you think that?”
“He looked enough like Alex that I just assumed he was related.”
“Hmm. I didn’t notice a strong resemblance, but I really didn’t get a good look at him. What’s his name?”
I realized not only had Fred not offered it, but I also hadn’t asked, either. “I don’t know. We never got to that.”
“If he’s here, he must be someone highly placed in society. Whoever he is,” she observed, “he made you look like you’ve been going to balls forever.”
“This is the first I’ve been to, but I know my way around them, just ask your brother,” I replied, raising a rakish eyebrow.
Tannis smirked and clinked her glass against mine. “Ah, tacky sexual innuendo. I knew you’d be the perfect sister-in-law.”
8
“I’m glad the party went well,” Alex remarked when I gave him the play by play of the evening’s activities. “Although, the incident in the lavatory concerns me.”
In hindsight, it all seemed rather innocuous, and I regretted telling him about it. After all, she didn’t do anything aggressive or even that creepy. “Nothing happened, and I don’t plan to go there tomorrow, so I think I’m safe.”
“Yes, but you have a way of stirring up trouble, carisa. To err on the safe side, I’ll request the King’s Guard keep an extra eye on you.”
“There are enough of them already hovering over me and I don’t cause trouble—trouble finds me,” I insisted. “Besides, I’m not without my own methods to take care of myself.”
I could hear him chuckle through the phone. “That is true, but I suspect Uncle Fry would not appreciate you torching the lady’s room.”
A wave of loneliness crashed over me. “I really miss you, Blondie.”
“Me too,” he agreed softly. “Where are you right now, inside or out?”
His sudden interest in my location came out of left field, but I played along. “Inside, but I’m just about to walk into the courtyard to get to my suite.”
“The one with the three large trees in the center?”
“That’s the one.”
“Wonderful. When you get there, have a seat behind the one on the far right. There should be a bench.”
“Okay,” I said, drawing out the word. I had no idea where this was going, but I entered the garden nonetheless. It was very dark, the only illumination provided by a few small path lights, but I found the secluded bench and sat down. The scent of lilacs permeated the air, and I breathed in the heady, sweet fragrance as I removed my high-heeled pumps. They looked great, but a relived groan burbled from my lips as I slipped them off. “Are you going to tell me why I’m here, or must I guess?” I asked as I rubbed my aching feet.
“What are you wearing?”
“My ball gown, why… oh.” The lusty tone in his voice finally sank in. I cupped my hand over the phone and whispered, “Wouldn’t this be better if I was in my room? Someone might hear.”
“A more private place would be preferable, but the praseodymium levels inside will hinder my efforts.”
Myrjix had mentioned phone reception inside the palace could be unreliable, but I heard him perfectly as I’d moved through the hallways. Why the hell did he think I needed to be in a non-magic-tamping, outdoor environment to engage in phone sex? I was about to ask, but I was distracted by something brushing against my neck. I waved my hand to shoo away whatever was there, but the sensation didn’t stop. In fact, it became more intense, but not in a bug-crawling-on-your-flesh kind of a way. Whatever was happening sent a thrill from the sensitive flesh on my throat straight to my groin.
“Can you feel my lips on you?”
“Yessss,” I hissed. “Oh my god, how are you doing this?”
“Sebastian invented a device to magnify the magic involved in transcendental arousal so it can be transmitted across a greater distance. It’s in our phones. We are his beta testers.”
This wasn’t typical phone sex. It was phonication.
“Carisa, I want to caress you, tease your nipples with my tongue, but I’m having trouble negotiating through the fabric.” His voice was husky and full of promise.
The dress was strapless, and all that separated my boobs from Alex’s magical ministrations was the gathered bodice and the built-in bra. Still, I hesitated.
“What if someone sees?” If I was worried earlier about a random passerby hearing w
hat was going on, the prospect of someone getting a free peep show was downright daunting.
“It’s late, it’s dark, the courtyard private, and the bench is hidden. Indulge me.”
While the multiple layers of fabric prevented him from attending to my breasts, I gasped when his fingerless touch moved below my waist, flicking and probing with wild abandon. To avoid unsightly panty lines, I’d gone commando, and I was certain the absence of under things accounted for Alex’s easy access to my nether regions. Arousal finally compelled me to abandon any remaining sense of modesty or good sense, and freed the girls with one hard yank at the bodice. I clutched the edges of the bench, pushing my feet against one arm of the bench to gain purchase to thrust myself toward Alex’s not-quite-there-but oh-so-skillful mouth. Had anyone walked by at that moment, they’d have been treated to the sight of a woman, alone, half-naked, and incoherent, with a phone propped against her ear, writhing in ecstasy, neither groping herself, nor touched by anyone else. Not behavior Pixie would approve of, but it felt so good I didn’t give a damn.
Exhausted, I lay sprawled across the bench, contemplating the profusion of stars twinkling through the leafy branches and the afterglow of passion still rippling across my flesh. Alex’s voice pulled me from my almost trance-like state, and it took me a few seconds to realize he was still on the phone.
“Hell, Blondie,” I purred. “That’s the best preternatural orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
It was only then that I realized I got the best of the deal. I wasn’t particularly skilled in the art of TA; when I tried to stimulate without touching, I tended to zap Alex’s man parts. “Sorry I can’t reciprocate in kind, but I can talk you up, if you get my drift.”
He laughed, slow and seductive. “Oh, I grasp your meaning completely, but I took care of myself. That’s the advantage of having free hands.”
The image of Alex going five against one while listening to me get off from his virtual manipulations turned me on big time. I considered asking for a second go, but Alex normally expended a lot of energy during up-close TA. Pushing for more of the long-distance variety seemed too much to ask.
Instead, I sat up, hitched the top of the dress up to cover my chesticles, and concentrated on ignoring how horny I still was. To aid in this endeavor, I asked, “How did you know about the perfect, out-of-the-way spot for wanton lewdness?”
“I discovered it during one of my visits with Uncle Fry. I used the same rooms you are currently staying in.”
The green-eyed monster rose within me. The thought of Alex banging some Jjestrian schoolgirl on this very spot tore away any lingering lust.
The ensuing silence must have alerted Alex to my mood change. “You aren’t jealous, are you, carisa? I don’t even remember their names.”
Their names? It was bad enough when I pictured a single floozy. “How many are we talking about?”
He sighed. “Carisa, that was years ago, when I was a testosterone-raging adolescent. And long before I met you,” he added. “I don’t understand why this bothers you.”
Men. Even modern, feminist-leaning, progressive-thinking Alex had no clue why I might be annoyed.
Grabbing the discarded shoes, I exited the courtyard, balancing the phone between my ear and my shoulder. “No woman wants to know the place she just had a mind-altering sexual encounter used to be her lover’s go-to spot to get some.”
“Really?” He seemed genuinely baffled. “I wouldn’t care if the situation were reversed.”
“Is that so? How would you feel if I told you my ex and I used to boink each other’s brains out on the same bed you and I slept in every night?”
“Have you changed the sheets since?”
“Of course,” I snapped, growing more exasperated by the second.
“Then I wouldn’t care. As long as he wasn’t still sleeping there, I couldn’t care less if at some point in the past, the piece of furniture had been utilized for carnal purposes.”
When he put it that way, I could see his point. There had probably been thousands of rainstorms since Alex had last bumped uglies there, and enough time had passed that it might not even be the same bench. Plus, he had a hundred-year head start on me, going-at-it wise, and I couldn’t really fault him for sowing his wild oats, especially since he had vast, fertile croplands at his disposal. Still, I didn’t want to admit he might be right, or I was being unreasonable. “Fine, but next time, let’s find a spot where you haven’t been with another woman.”
“Deal, but that might severely limit our options, carisa. I was quite the babe magnet back in the day.”
I knew he was teasing me, but it rankled just the same. I’d made it back to the suite, and, attuned to my unique magical signature, the door opened automatically as soon as I stood before it. I stepped inside, went directly to the mini-fridge, and snagged the tequila. Not bothering with a glass, I raised the bottle to my lips and let the liquid slide down my throat. I chugged another swallow before getting back to the conversation.
“That’s not really a personal affirmation, Blondie,” I argued. “You are a prince. You could have been grotesquely ugly with an equally hideous personality and hot chicks would still have trampled over their own mothers to get their claws into you.”
He kept his tone lighthearted. “I love it when you put me in my place, carisa.”
I considered making a snarky, innuendo-filled retort describing in detail exactly what I’d like to put and where, but I’d had a long day and the tequila had gone straight to my head. Odd, I thought. I’m not usually such a lightweight. I wondered if, like at altitude, one’s tolerance to the effects of alcohol dipped while in a foreign dimension.
Setting the bottle on the nightstand, I plunked down on the mattress. “Hey, I planned on rewarding your earlier efforts with some verbal stimulation of my own, but I’m wiped out. How about a rain check?”
I could swear I heard him smile. “No problem, my love. Sleep well.”
He disconnected, and as I laid my head on the collection of soft pillows leaning against the headboard, I thought, I’ll just take a little nap before getting ready for bed.
I dreamt I was back at the ball, and everyone was naked. Except me—I was dressed in one of Pixie’s fusty ensembles. “Poor Aldegrexynthor,” I heard people whisper. “What a shame he is engaged to a clotheist.”
Yearning to fit in, I began to disrobe. This is so much better than a usual dream where I’m the only one in the buff, I thought while I unzipped. As the dress fell away, I realized there was another, stodgier one underneath. Time after time, I removed the next layer, only to discover yet another unbecoming garment lurking under the last.
As I struggled to rid myself of the attention-grabbing outfits, I noticed the King’s Guards were also in the altogether. Their only “attire,” the round shields normally adorning the fronts of their ghrilyx, hung not from a strap secured around their waists, but from their rather impressive erections. Inexplicably, one of the guards lost his third-hand salute, and his medallion slipped off and crashed to the floor. The ensuing uproar culminated in both Private Floppy and me being tossed from of the ballroom. Just before a scowling butler slammed the door in our faces, I heard someone yell, “For an erection lasting more than four hours, seek immediate medical attention.”
Clearly, the physiological rules regarding such things did not hold true in dream Jjestri.
*****
A wretched cacophony of high-pitched sound roused me from sleep. “Why the fuck are those fucking birds so fucking loud?” I groaned, covering my ears with my hands.
Regret hit me immediately. I’d barely whispered my displeasure at the avian chorus outside my bedroom window, but even that made my temples pound. Sure, there were a couple of glasses of wine at the ball, and the two, post-fake-coital shots right before I conked out, but the combination shouldn’t have given me a hangover. Easing myself into a semi-upright position, two important pieces of information qui
ckly became apparent: it was morning, and I still wore the dress from the night before.
What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered, avoiding my earlier mistake of speaking out loud. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d gone to bed without washing my face and brushing my teeth, but if I hadn’t bothered to ditch the ball gown, there was no way I performed my nighttime hygiene routine. Despite the headache, I slithered out of bed and into the bathroom. One glance in the mirror confirmed my suspicions. Smudges of mascara beneath my eyes reminded me of the glare-tamping, black, greasy stuff athletes smeared on their cheekbones. To make matters worse, my awesome up-do was reduced to more of a side-don’t, having somehow shifted to lean precariously on my shoulder.
I snatched the wayward pins from my hair and started the shower. Steadying myself with my hands against the back wall, I let the hot water cascade over me and within a few minutes, the mental fog receded enough to commence bathing. As I toweled off, I realized I hadn’t gone feathery for almost three weeks, since Alex and I found out about Kyzal’s death. No wonder I was so tired I passed out. There had been so much going on, I completely forgot my health suffered if I didn’t form-bend on a regular basis. Diagnosis made, I strode, naked, to the balcony, threw open the doors, and changed into a hawk in one fluid motion.
The transformation was effortless. Magic was more powerful here than in the human dimension, and the bit I’d borrowed from Sebastian was no exception. Back home, I had to concentrate on morphing my body into its Yterixa form. Here, one simple, unequivocal thought and I was airborne. Soaring above the palace, I reveled in the freedom of flight, chastising myself for waiting so long to shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement in a cleared, grassy area between the palace and the stables.
Bunny, yum. As a bird of prey, my needs were simple: Fly. Hunt. Eat. I’d already taken to the air, and Bugs was about to satisfy the other entries on my to-do list. As Hailey, the act of running down and then tearing into an animal would disgust me, but I had no such qualms now. Instincts commandeered reason, and I dispatched the rabbit with nimble efficiency. After feasting on my catch, I took to the sky once again, caught a thermal, and rode that bad boy upward until the palace looked like a tiny blip amongst the green landscape.
