How Beauty Saved the Beast (Tales of the Underlight)

by Garren, Jax

  “Okay.” He shot her a big old grin over the head of Ashley, who, for the love of Pete, was probably a full foot and a half shorter than him. God, he would practically have to do a toe-touch to kiss her.

  Ugh, she did not need to think about that.

  “We’ll be there,” he said.

  Wait, “we”? As in “me and Ashley”? Oh, fuck me.

  Jolie couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

  Chapter Four

  “Giving them some alone time?” Jolie couldn’t help snarking at Brayden and Travis as they followed her out.

  Brayden shot her a stupid smile. “Got a problem with that?”

  “Of course not.” But she sped forward, ready to be away from the scene and away from anybody who knew her well enough to see just how unsettled she was.

  But the boys kept up with her. “Actually,” Brayden said, “I promised Catrina I’d help with setup, too. So I’m on my way to the electric company. You taking the tunnels or driving?”

  “I have a trunk-load of costumes. I’m driving.” She stopped, and Travis nearly ran into her. “Why? You asking to bum a ride?”

  Brayden’s smile turned mock innocent as his big brown eyes opened hopefully. It was a variant of the highly successful pretty-please face she’d watched him give at least a dozen people—men and women; gender wasn’t a standard Brayden used to pick his dates. But this was the first time he’d turned that look on her.

  In fact, nobody in The Underlight hit on her. Ever. Which was nice, but also…unusual. As the daughter of an Ananke bigwig, she wasn’t the most popular Associate of the Underlight. Some people still didn’t trust her, which could explain the general lack of flirting. But Brayden had gotten over her unfortunate family connections long ago. So was she one of the few reasonably attractive people who didn’t appeal to him?

  Or did he have a different reason for not hitting on her? Like his best friend?

  Jolie shook her head. If Brayden was keeping his seductive smile to himself for fear of hurting Hauk, he was wasting the little restraint he possessed. Besides, wasn’t it a guy thing to actively pursue the girls your friends were interested in? Maybe Hauk’s indifference made her seem less desirable in some twisted male logic.

  Not that Hauk’s lack of romantic interest concerned her. It wasn’t like she’d courted it. It was just awkward because of that kiss.

  That lovely, toe-curling, spine-arching, brain-scrambling kiss.

  “So, yeah. Can we get a ride?” Brayden prompted as they exited the stadium complex on The University of Texas campus into the chilly light of a February morning. The Underlight was under the university, and the citizens of The Underlight used facilities at the mega-campus as an extension of their headquarters, easily blending in with the more than fifty thousand students and nearly twenty-five thousand faculty and staff.

  Jolie, as a doctoral candidate in the School of Liberal Arts, used them legitimately.

  She shoved her arms into the pocket whs of her track suit, trying to stem a chill she feared came from more than the winter wind. “Yeah, come on. I’m in the garage.”

  There was something in her pocket. A flash drive.

  She pulled it out and handed it to Brayden, happy to change the subject. “I forgot to give this to you yesterday, what with the bomb and all. I checked the foreman’s office for you two first and pulled it out of a computer.”

  Brayden turned it over, checking for markings Jolie already knew weren’t there. She’d checked it over last night. “From the slaughterhouse?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It was stuck in a laptop somebody had open. I couldn’t easily carry the computer, but I figured, why not grab the drive? There’s probably nothing useful on it, what with the whole thing being a setup and all.”

  Brayden turned to Travis. “Got your netbook with you?”

  “Of course.” He patted his messenger’s bag. “Want to open it during a break?”

  Brayden snorted. “Yeah. If Catrina gives us one.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Knowing those idiots at Atropos, it’s probably just porn.”

  Travis laughed, and the boys shared a glance.

  “We could find some time for a break,” Brayden added.

  “Ah, boys.” Jolie sighed in mock disappointment as they reached her car.

  “Shotgun,” Travis called.

  Brayden spun around. “Where?”

  Travis pulled up the passenger seat and pointed. “It means I get the front seat.”

  “Oh.” Dropping back onto his heels, Brayden turned to Jolie. “Is that for real? Or is he pulling another fast one on the native Underlighter?”

  That brought a smile back to her face. Most branches of The Underlight disdained normal technology, like cars, as unhealthy for the planet. Brayden had grown up in the slightly more liberal Seattle Underlight, where computers were still a welcome part of life—unlike Austin, where you had to go above ground to get any form of normal technology. But every now and then his sheltered upbringing showed through.

  Like when Travis made up some crazy shit about what “topsiders” did and tried to pass it off on him.

  But this time Jolie admitted, “It’s real. Don’t ask me why we say that.”

  Brayden nodded as he climbed into the back. “I’ll remember that one. The ways of you topsiders are mysterious unto me.”

  * * *

  Jolie blew feathers out of her sightline and glued glittery purple lashes over her right eye. “She’s like a midget compared to him. No, that’s rude. Like a leprechaun.”

  Catrina, the manager of the Pussy Will-Oh! Burlesque, nodded sagely and applied glue to the second lash for her.

  Jolie took it with a huff and bent back to the mirror. “Wait ’til you see them together. It’s ridiculous. How did they even dance at prom? Did she wear stilts? So sure, Hauk’s taller than me, but at least he can reach my shoulders without doing a full squat.” Lashes finished, she started applying lipstick.

  “So your height makes you a better girlfriend for him?”

  The lipstick tube slipped, smearing scarlet all over Jolie’s flco Jolieront teeth. “Fuck.” She grabbed a tissue and rubbed it off. “No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying…other than being a munchkin, she’s perfect for him. I mean, they’re both so good. Like, self-sacrificing and nauseatingly good. And she went to Yale.”

  Catrina finger-combed her smooth black bob with infuriating calmness. “Didn’t you go to Princeton?”

  Lipstick fixed, Jolie stood to check over her costume in one of the full-length mirrors scattered around the chaotic dressing room, where the ten members of Pussy Will-Oh! readied for their number. Usually the camaraderie of her troupe hyped up for a show put her in high spirits, but today it wasn’t working.

  She fingered the purple and black crystals decorating her bodysuit. From a distance they seemed glamorous. “Princeton is my mother’s alma mater, and the Benoits give an annual donation of no small means. I’m pretty sure as long as I graduated from high school, I would’ve gotten in.” She flicked off a loose purple crystal at her hip. The dress may look glamorous, but the shine was manufactured. Its beauty wasn’t worth much. “Saint Ashley’s from crap-hood Cincy. She got into Yale on her own merits. And she’s a lawyer who does all this pro bono work. You should’ve seen Hauk—he was in awe as he raved to me about her. You could tell she’s the kind of girl he dreams about.”

  Catrina looked over Jolie’s shoulder with an appraising eye and smiled, as if satisfied with the skin-tight costume and its sheer panels that revealed more than they hid. “You know, you’re most men’s dream girl yourself, sweetie. What is it they all call you? Red Hots? That’s not a bad nickname.”

  Jolie pulled the rubber band from her hair, letting her curls fall around her shoulders. “More like wet dream. A man’s brain doesn’t have to like you for his dick to want you. Even with nice guys. They can’t help it. But it’s not the same thing.”

  Catrina turned Jolie around. Jolie was just above average in
height, but Catrina, a biological male, was quite a bit taller, even without the four-inch heels she currently sported. So Jolie had to look up to meet her boss’s eyes as Catrina frowned down. “All right, sunshine, what’s up? Normally you take everything in stride like nobody’s business. What happened?”

  Jolie shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I’m being irrationally hormonal.”

  “You’re more even-keeled than I am, despite my lack of estrogen.”

  Jolie shuffled from foot to foot and finally sighed, letting her shoulders drop. “It’s really stupid. I’m being vain. Hauk doesn’t want me, and it pissed me off. It’s not even like I want him. We’re just friends. So that’s all. I’m being a vain bitch and I deserve to be miserable.”

  Catrina raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “What on earth makes you think Hauk doesn’t want you?”

  In a rare surge of embarrassment, Jolie averted her eyes. “We, uh, sort of made out in one of the training rooms at Memorial Stadium. And he ended it pretty decisively.”

  When Jolie looked back she was surprised to find Catrina grinning merrily. “Try smooching him again and see what happens. I’d wager my day job you can win him over.”

  “The spoiled, irrational daughter of one of Hauk’s mortal enemies is not going to ‘win him over.’ Get him in bed, maybe, which he’d later regret. More than that? No.”

  “I doubt he’d regret it. And do you usually have a problem with relationship-less sex?”

  Jolie hesitated. “In theory? No.” In reality, despite her attempts to be more open-minded, she preferred the comfort of a stable relationship.

  “So you’re opposed to sleeping with Hauk because of his scars? Too gruesome?”

  “No. They don’t bother me. Not anymore, anyway.”

  “Well, then.” Catrina shrugged. “A nice guy like Hauk deserves a little TLC. If you liked the kiss—and as you ‘made out,’ as opposed to aborting after first contact, I’ll assume that’s the case—then friends with benefits sounds like a perfect arrangement all around.”

  “He aborted.”

  Catrina hummed something noncommittal then glanced up at a clock. “Almost showtime. Is Little Miss Ashley out there?”

  Jolie grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Hauk and I have spoken some about where he came from. Sounds like quite the staid little neighborhood. Put on a good show. I bet it’ll get Ashley’s knickers in a twist. And even if it doesn’t, Hauk will be watching. I bet he’d like it if you danced for him.”

  With a smile for the thought of Ashley’s granny panties in a knot, Jolie shook her head. “I can’t dance for Hauk. If I’m not sure what I want, I shouldn’t think like that. It’s toying with him.” Or it would be if he gave a crap. He did come to all her shows to cheer her on. Had she subconsciously thought he cared? Was that where the disappointment was coming from?

  Catrina tapped her long nails against the sequined fabric of her emcee’s gown. “Are you saying you should be certain of your feelings before you go there with Hauk because he’s had enough pain and you don’t want to be the cause of more if it doesn’t work out?”

  “He has had enough pain.”

  “Giving someone a chance isn’t toying with them. How can anyone ‘be sure’ before they, well…” Catrina’s face lit up in a salacious smile. “Take a test drive? If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. Hauk’s a big boy. He can handle it. But if nobody’s willing to give him a chance for fear of hurting him, he will spend the rest of his life alone. And that would be unfair. My advice? You do the man no favors by protecting his heart.”

  Jolie frowned. She hadn’t thought about it from that perspective before, and it made a surprising amount of sense. But she shook her head anyway. “You’re not listening. Neither of us is interested in the other one.”

  Catrina leaned down until they were eye to eye. “Then why are we having this conversation, hmm?”

  Jolie opened her mouth, but had no good answer for that.

  Catrina pointed toward the stage. “Get your ass out there and dance like you mean it. I’m hosting this rally. My troupe better be the best damn act of the night.” She turned to the other company members scattered around the dressing room finishing their last touches of makeup and raised her voice. “Showtime, ladies and Bret! Pop a pasty!” She threw an arm around Jolie’s hip and winked. “Make the munchkin squirm.”

  * * *

  “A-are you sure we’re safe up here?”

  Hauk grinned as he hel thed as hped Ashley settle onto a ledge overhanging the old electric company floor. “We’re safe as rain.”

  “Rain falls.”

  He laughed as he took a seat next to his ex and dangled a boot over the edge. It was surreal to be with her again, especially now after so much had changed. He wouldn’t have figured Ash for The Underlight type; their methods could be a bit more underhanded than she used to approve of. But for whatever reasons she’d signed up, it was good to see her again. “We’re fine. Trust me. I watch all their shows from up here.”

  Catrina and the Pussy Will-Oh! troupe had redone the cement-and pipe-filled space in green, gold and purple tinsel for the Mardi Gras Pride Rally, which featured acts from some of the best dancers and musicians around the state. The crowd below was packed and seemed to be having a great time. Thus far no trouble had stirred and Jolie was on next, so Hauk had decided to climb up to his usual out-of-the-crowd spot to watch. Up here he could still scan for trouble, no one could see him and they had a great view of the stage.

  It would be a lot easier to maneuver, however, if Ash wasn’t so determined to keep her knees together, her heels on and her hose from catching on anything. He’d thought her meticulousness was cute when he was seventeen, but now it made him miss Jolie, who never worried about things like that, just blazed forward into any situation. That boldness was one of the things he appreciated about her.

  He still needed to find that woman. He’d planned to ask her out before the show, but she hadn’t come by to talk shop like she’d said she would. Likely Catrina had kept her running around.

  After her performance, then. And if she didn’t come out, well, he’d go find her. The memory of this morning’s kiss had kept a spring in his step all day, and he didn’t want to waste time before getting another one.

  “You’re grinning again,” Ashley said with a nudge of her knee.

  He could feel the grin get bigger, but he gave a non-committal shrug. In the past he’d have spilled his guts to her. All through growing up, Ash had been the one person he could tell anything to. Despite her more conservative bent, or maybe because of it, she’d reveled vicariously in his troublemaking ways.

  But things weren’t the same now; of course they weren’t. They were shy around each other. Back in the day they couldn’t be near each other without touching, and he used to harass her about everything, from her tiny feet to her perfectly ironed shirts. But time had taken that ease away.

  Or his accident had. He didn’t resemble her friend, or her ex, anymore. Deceptive as they may be, appearances made a difference to everyone.

  “So your friend is a dancer? What kind?” Ashley asked.

  He smiled and was rewarded with a shy smile back before her gaze slid away from his face. But this time her eyes found his again quickly. Progress. He wouldn’t ruin the moment by mentioning it.

  “Jolie’s trained as a ballerina. She was so good the Houston Ballet wanted her to audition, but her family wouldn’t hear of it.” Jolie was one of the most physically competent women he’d ever met. Training her in self-defense had been a pleasure, and not just because he liked her company. He loved to watch her move, to see the way her brain grasped a concept and her body executed it. He hoped she never needed to use any of the defense techniques he’d taught her (likely a vain hope, he knew), but it made him feel better knowing she was more than competent at gettiad ent at ng out of harm’s way.

  And he couldn’t help thinking
if she could move like that in a sparring match, she must have some damn fine moves in other places that he’d sure like to experience.

  Catrina came onstage to announce Pussy Will-Oh!, and Ashley joined in the applause.

  “I love the ballet,” she said.

  Hauk nearly choked on a laugh. “Oh, she doesn’t do ballet anymore.”

  “What does she do?”

  The spotlight hit an aerial hammock, pale purple nylon folded in half and hanging from the ceiling. Currently the hammock stretched around the perfect curves of a reclining body. Hauk couldn’t see her face, just shadows and hints of a form cocooned in lavender, but it was Jolie.

  He had damn fond memories of those curves pressed into fabric.

  “Is that her?” Ashley asked.

  “Mm-hm.”

  Jolie kicked straight up, and the shadows highlighted her long leg and spiked heel. His whole body stiffened in desire.

  “Is this one of those modern dance things? I haven’t seen much of that.”

  Jolie moved. The hammock responded to every motion, hugging her body as she slowly twisted in the air.

  “But I’m happy to give it a try,” Ashley continued.

  “They’re a burlesque troupe,” Hauk muttered.

  “Burlesque? Isn’t that…strippers?”

  Hauk peeled his eyes off of Jolie long enough to glance at Ashley. She sounded a little panicked. Maybe he would’ve thought that was scandalous, too, back in the day. But they were adults now, and a little skin wasn’t a shocking thing.

  His focus riveted back to Jolie, as he was determined not to miss a moment of her skin. “They do some of that. But it’s more than just stripping. They’re good. The troupe has a contortionist and a couple acrobats. Jolie does aerial dancing, and she’s teaching some of the others. All of them are professionally trained dancers.”

  “So why do they take off their clothes if they have real talent?”

  He shrugged, unable to help a grin. “Why not?”

  Other dancers had entered with chairs, and the dance picked up speed as the audience cheered. Jolie gathered the fabric with her hands. Arching her back, she inverted so she hung under the hammock instead of inside it, showing off that amazing athleticism and those perfectly defined shoulders as she got the hammock spinning faster and faster.