“Damn, girl…this is going to be tough, isn’t it? They’re like night and day, literally,” she said, before taking a sip of her latte. She pulled out her cellphone and took a picture of the froth in her cup and Isabel laughed. The woman had a serious selfie issue with her creations on her cell phone. Amele had a recent fascination with making images with her froth, and was actually pretty good at it. Isabel didn’t care for all that jazz, but she liked seeing what Amele would make. Today, the foam had a bit of a mangled heart in it. That was fitting, since hers was going to be lucky to survive this. When she looked at Amele’s cup closer, she realized her froth wasn’t a heart at all, but something that should remain in her perverted head, instead of her coffee.
Amele looked down and laughed so hard she was nearly shooting coffee out of her nose. “Bel, it was a heart, I swear to the Gods. Two nights with them and you’ve gotten downright perverted, yourself. I’m so proud of you, doll. You’re all grown up now,” she said as her laughter quieted some. “So, how the hell are you going to chose between Mr. Lickable and Mr. Lickworthy?”
Isabel shook her head at her ridiculous friend. “Which is which again? And how in the hell can you be so nonchalant about this? It’s not like I’m getting ready to pick out another horrible atrocity of a dress for the prom, Amele! Geez, a little sympathy wouldn’t kill you,” she whined and got out of the bed, leaving her best friend to stare at her naked backside. Isabel huffed and grabbed a robe from the hook by the door, slipped it on, and spun back to face a far too innocent looking Amele. “They’re both so damn handsome and charming in their own ways. How can I go back and forth to each of them and not go out of my mind? Maybe I’m supposed to go crazy? Maybe I have already?” she mumbled to herself, as she slipped out the door and went into the bathroom. She sat down defeatedly onto the closed lid of the toilet hoping for a minute of peace and sipped at her coffee, her head hanging down.
The bathroom door opened and Amele stood there looking at her. “Oh, girl, come on. You can’t be that bad off already. This has only just begun. You’re going to have to toughen up a bit and maybe set some ground rules for these guys,” she chuckled. “If it were me, the rules would be more along the lines of, ‘give me the best orgasm you can every time I pop in, and the winner gets me…but this isn’t my rodeo, is it?”
Isabel groaned and sat back against the cool ceramic. “Can’t be that bad says the one who slept with half the Dragon kingdom to the virgin? I don’t know how to set ground rules. I don’t even know how to be on a date let alone make rules like ‘the best orgasm wins.’ I wouldn’t even be able to think that out loud around either one of them. And speaking of sleeping, why am I freaking naked every time I wake up? I’m dressed there before I go, and I’m dressed here before I fall sleep. What’s the deal with the birthday suit every morning and me in whatever seems to suit them when I’m there? The clothes I’ve been in while dreaming? Yeah, not human ones, and definitely not mine.” They both began cracking up then, Isabel couldn’t help it. She was overwhelmed and frustrated, but Amele’s laughter was contagious.
“Your necklace and ring went with you this time so I can only assume that your clothes just can’t travel there with you because you’re still mortal. My clothes stay on me when I sift, so that’s the only real explanation. It’s awfully generous of them to put you in something though, yes?”
Isabel’s eyes popped open wide for a moment. “Great, so they get to choose when I show up in nothing then, too? That’s just splendid. Awesome even. Oh my God.”
Amele watched her with an annoying grin on her face. “So, Bel, who’s got your panties wet, and who’s got them in a bunch?”
Isabel shook her head at Amele’s words, but had to actually think about that. Both men were drop dead gorgeous and had shown her worlds beyond her wildest imagination, but they both needed to teach her more of themselves. This was nearly impossible. One kiss was not better than the other that she could tell right now, they were just different. She shrugged, “I don’t know yet, I’ve only just met them both. They both have their charms, I guess. I’ll have to wait and see what the nights to come bring. How long exactly do I have before the blood moon rises?”
“Only ten more days, so use your time wisely. And in the meantime, you get to have life lessons from yours truly. We’ll be exploring the onset of your new powers. They’ll be coming in little spurts now that you have the sight, and everything will be in place when the blood moon rises. It’s better this way, because then you won’t be overwhelmed with too much power on that night.”
“Ten days? You’ve got to be kidding me, Amele! How in the world am I supposed to choose one of them in ten freaking days! Really? Can’t I stretch it out to a month or something? At least then I’d have a little more time to get to know them. I might as well flip a damn coin!”
“You’ll know, Isabel. It’ll be clear as a bell when the time comes to make your choice. Between your powers and the signs, you’ll know.”
She just looked at her and shook her head. Oh! Powers! “How about the power to see through all bullshit? Can we work on that?”
She laughed softly, “No, I’m afraid that’s not something I can teach you. However, your mother was a powerful Foresayer in Loveryn and they can see into the future. Not that you can depend on what you see as an absolute because the fine print always reads, ‘subject to change’, but it is a pretty cool gift. You may have that.”
Isabel eyed her, “And how would I know if this was something that I could do?”
“Well, it’s simple really. You need to have some sacred water and a bowl. And then concentrate. A Foresayer can see into the waters and then into the future.”
“And where do I get the sacred water? From Loveryn, I suppose?”
“Yep” she said sighing. “From the sacred spring, of course, which is a much better choice than a bowl of it to see into. But, until the night of your turning we’re all frozen here and there. I can’t go collect some and bring it back and no one there can bring it to you here. That does suck a bit, doesn’t it?”
Isabel sighed. No way would she be asking Bodhe to let her try and see through his possible bullshit with their sacred waters.
“But look on the bright side, Halfling! Bel, I meant Bel,” she corrected with her hands raised in a truce. “There are lots of other things we can work on in the meantime. Like flying and killing the Unseelie. Oh! Speaking of which, I got you something. A friend in the guard brought it in as a gift before your birthday, but I couldn’t very well give it to you then, since you would’ve thought I was nuts.”
Clearly, Amele was in denial about the fact that she already thought she was nuts. And she was going to get slapped if she kept calling her a halfling with less than a cup of coffee in her. Isabel watched her scurry to the guest bedroom and come back with a small dagger in a white leather sheath adorned with golden gems. Her humor was gone, and she placed it in her hands with a reverence.
“This, my dear, is your raka. Everyone in the royal house of Loveryn has one. These are specially made by the Fire Dragons themselves and are forged in the center of the earth within their realm. Once stabbed by this blade, an immortal becomes mortal. Twice stabbed brings true death.”
“Fanfreakingtastic, I’ll probably end up stabbing myself, as clumsy as I am. On the bright side, at least this impossible choice wouldn’t be looming over me. Plus, I don’t belong to the royal house of Loveryn, so why do I have one?”
“You’re so dramatic sometimes, do you know that?” Amele asked with her mouth twitching on a grin. “They’re magically spelled to never cut their wearer, so you’re good. You’re royalty in Albequen, and they’re like our cousins….close enough. Gods, it’s so absolutely fabulous to be able to speak almost freely to you. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever for this moment!” She jumped and clapped her hands, looking every bit a cheerleader and not one bit of the ancient immortal that could kick some serious immortal ass. Isabel cocked her head and stared at her cu
riously. “Now, would you like to find a particularly unsavory Unseelie and see how it works? I do so adore a good hunt!”
She felt bile rising in her throat. Just the thought of touching one of those nasty creatures was making the coffee nearly come back up. Killing one? No way. “No, I absolutely do not want to find any Unseelie today. Let’s do something else instead,” she pleaded.
Amele squatted next to her and began the task of strapping the dagger to her thigh anyway, tightening the soft bands until it was a perfect fit. It looked awesome, but she was still sure she’d kill herself with it on accident.
A dark shadow passed through Amele’s eyes and the cheerleader was totally gone, as was any resemblance to a soft and sweet voice that was attempting to reassure her. It was baritone and deep, rich and commanding. “You will wear it at all times, just in case. When you sleep, when you shower, and every other moment of every day. Understand? And I promise you on my ancestors that you can’t hurt yourself with your own raka. It’s impossible.”
She found herself nodding, but didn’t even know if she agreed to do that or not. Goosebumps broke out on Isabel’s skin as she watched, mutely noticing the transformation that removed any doubt that Amele was very old, very powerful, and very not human. She scared the shit out of her for a moment, actually. But then, a gentle mask slid down her face and a nearly human smile painted her lips, as well as an expression of loving concern that had her head spinning to watch. Isabel had to wipe the confusion from her eyes.
“And sure, today you’ll learn about your heritage if you’d like, instead? A halfling ought to know both sides of her race.” She grinned, even as Isabel threw the closest thing she could at her, the tube of toothpaste not nearly satisfying enough as it bounced off her like she was made of steel. Amele just blinked at her. The magazine she threw next was caught mid-air with frightening accuracy. She decided that maybe she should learn to fight sooner rather than later—that maybe then Amele wouldn’t scare her so much. Maybe if she could defend herself, she could find enough confidence to deal with this curse, as well.
Right. And faeries have wings and are named Tinkerbell.
Amele scowled a bit and walked out of the bathroom then, leaving her to deal with her pity party for one. What the hell was she mad about? The toothpaste could not have hurt her. At all.
**************
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bend the Rules
“SO, WHAT EXACTLY am I supposed to do with her then? Seduce her? Fine, I can do that. But, what about afterwards? Will I be stuck with her or will I be able to get rid of her somehow? I’m not spending eternity with a half breed! How specific is the curse anyway? Do I just have to sleep with her or does she have to really love me?” he spat the word ‘love’ out like it was a poison that he needed to remove immediately.
Mage Orilius sat quietly while the immortal paced back and forth in the room. “My Lord, she must love you or the curse will not only remain but the shadows of the other worlds will seep into every place of light that there is. You know this. And if it is not you that she should love, then, well, I am uncertain. If she is not your hearts’ true desire, then this is all for naught. I can only weave so much magic against what has been woven into time already.”
“Who better than me, Orilius? And she gives me something that I want as well. She is beautiful enough, quite actually, and I shall see her mine before the rise of the blood moon. She is mine, she just doesn’t know it…yet. Her demise after she gives me what I seek has no bearing in this damned curse. And if the Other One wasn’t around, there would be no competition at all to distract her. Isn’t there anything I can do to thwart his attentions, or hers? Specifically, isn’t there anything that you can do?” He stopped pacing to glare at the worried face of the mage.
“I cannot interfere more than I have; the consequences are too great. I cannot use magic on her, nor is my magic greater than that of the Elementals. No, there is nothing more I can do, Sire. I will read the curse again and let you know if I can find anything that may be useful, but I fear that your only option is winning her heart. Grave consequences exist for us even now, with what little I have done.” The Mage gathered his scrolls and placed his satchel over his shoulder. “I do hope you are prepared, should those consequences come to pass,” he added, nearly beneath his breath.
“You needn’t worry about the soon to be crowned High King, or consequences. Not even the Gods would challenge me. Find something, or you may not be standing as the High Mage of my court when this is all over with,” he growled at the mage. He watched as Orilius bowed and began to walk toward the gate. He stopped before he got there though, his hand running through his badly cut hair, and he turned around.
“I have just had a thought, My Lord. There is one thing that may create discord, but may not be against the rules of the curse, per-se.”
“Oh? Speak it then,” he commanded, and folded his broad arms over his chest.
“Well, yes, she does come from quite a powerful lineage on both sides. Perhaps…” Orilius walked back to him, leaned over and whispered his words so softly that even the wind couldn’t share share them after he had.
He let the idea sink in before a wicked smile graced his lips. “Indeed, we could do that, Orilius. Begin working on this immediately.”
“My Lord,” he responded, reverently bowing so deep that his brown robes swished on the floor before he turned and opened the gate that would begin his descent from the castle’s rooftop meeting place.
The rooftop chamber they met in housed the warning bell for intruders, and was the only safe place for them to not be overheard at this point. Soon, everything would be his and there would be no hiding from little birds. No being would dare attack this realm now, not as fortified as it was, and the guard never came up to this little alcove, knowing it was his place to go and think. It was a forgotten room in theory, with no eyes nor ears to see or hear them. It was so important for everything to go as planned, and this little addition would ensure it. He’d worked too hard to get here, and had lost something that he would be getting back. Nothing was permanent, not even death if you were powerful enough, and he would fix this mess that was made many years ago.
This was perfect, he thought, leaning back in the chair. Orilius would not break the rules exactly, and yet he could offer her something that she is in control of. She was not powerful enough yet to know that she was being led astray by her own senses. He laughed at the simple cunning in this plan. His hand slipped down into his pants and began to stroke the hard flesh that agreed with the beauty of this change—that hungered for the power that success promised—that hungered for her. They would have everything they’d ever need once this was done. A few weeks from now, he’d be laughing at all of them as he rose to his throne. A grunt came from his mouth when he’d taken his frustration out in his hands and come all over the wooden floors of this forgotten place. He felt lighter, and more sure of everything. It was nearly time to have everything he was owed, and more.
He made his way back to his chamber, whistling all the way there. She would be his in no time at all, and she would love him, and the curse would be forgotten when she chose him. Of course, she would be leaving as soon as the curse was lifted, which would take a few more strategic deaths, but that wouldn’t matter because all would be right again anyway at that point. He would be untouchable, powerful, and none would question him ever again. The Princess could take a walk off a cliff for all he cared…much like her father had. Then, all of this would be his…and hers. He thought about his dark haired beauty, and imagined her as Queen of the realm. She would be perfect; will be perfect, he corrected in his mind.
Two weeks, that’s nothing.
Just the blink of an immortal eye. He was ready to blink twice, have the world that he was due, and be done with this farce of a show he was forced to put on for so long. It was time for the fruition to come of his long overdue plans. It was time for him to rule. They would all bow to him, in every last damned
realm.
His laughter echoed through the halls, that and his boots stomping on the stones were the only sound around. The people were all readying for a welcome home party when Isabel and Keiren came back. While those in the throne room were plotting parties, he was plotting to overthrow the throne—and he would be sitting on that dais very soon. He would make sure the festivities weren’t wasted. He wasn’t wasteful, after all.
Staff, what little was in here, scurried through alcoves away from him as he headed for his door. They all avoided him, thinking he’d gone mad some time ago. He was mad, but it wasn’t psychological. He was absolutely sane, and in the process of building a new world. One where he was the one true king.
Gods be damned, even they wouldn’t be able to stop him once he had both kingdoms.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Holy Shit, Glamour Much?
HISTORY HAD ALWAYS been a good subject for her, and this was especially intriguing since it was her very crazy, very immortal history. Having Amele for a teacher was a definite bonus too since she had her laughing through most of it. Dragons, Demons, Elementals, Mermaids, Elves and Sidhe and not to mention all the lesser beings that spawned from them, were all real. She had asked silly questions all day like ‘did the Sidhe really fear steel and were Elves the fastest beings anywhere,’ but Amele didn’t laugh at her. She also didn’t divulge too much information about how one finds the realms in which the other beings exist, but she assured her that they were all separate from each other—at least for the time being. She did however dissolve some of the myths. The Sidhe feared nothing and Elves were not the fastest, but speed was a strength of theirs. The most important part, a part she made sure to reiterate constantly, was that the veil between worlds was thinning and without the proper magic in force to hold the walls then the worlds would begin to merge. ‘And you really don’t want to know what that would be like, if you can’t even stand the sight of the Unseelie,’ Amele had said.
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