“At first, her responses were along the lines of acting as though nothing were amiss and she had no clue what people were talking about when they told her she was off her rocker. Then she would be cracking up so hilariously that blood she had freshly fed on would come from her nose. Ah, and then there was the one time when someone annoyed her so much by continually trying to explain to her what she does from day to day that she ripped the poor fool’s head clear off her body. No one much cared, since she was such an annoying bitch anyhow. I, for one, had contemplated a million and one ways to end her without anyone finding out. Auntie Hildegarde had no such qualms.” Anya snorted at that. “So yes, she has been asked on several occasions. She’s now asked only to see what new reaction she may give, and always from a safe distance.”
We finally made it to the entrance of the springs just as three identical little girls came running out, platinum blonde pigtails flying behind them, chasing each other with smiles so big you could see all their gleaming teeth and their delicate little fangs. Until they saw us. The first froze in her tracks, gasping, with her eyes and mouth wide open, then they went down like a set of dominoes as the other two continued running, not realizing the leader of their little pack had suddenly stopped.
After all the “What’s wrong with you? Why’d you stop like that?” and a few other whiny questions, the first one just pointed at me and told the other two, “Look.” Then they gasped too, and all three of them had the same shell-shocked expression. Which would have been cute had those looks not been aimed at me. Being their focal point made me want to squirm and hide behind something. I’d never liked being the center of attention, and apparently that was one thing that hadn’t changed. Good to know the changes that I’d just undergone were only physical, so far. I liked me just the way I was, thank you very much, flaws and all.
“What are the three of you doing down here?” Anya scolded the triplets. “All the children were told to stay in the living quarters for the entire week.”
In unison, and in an extremely deadpan tone, they replied with a, “Yes Auntie, sorry Auntie,” all without taking their sights off of me, or even blinking. It was rather creepy, but in a cute kind of way. They were like small automatons.
Just then, a tall beauty flashed in behind us, with shoulder-length raven black hair with several platinum blonde highlights interspersed throughout. High cheekbones, and olive-toned skin all wrapped around a body made to kill with perfectly sculpted muscles that still managed to look feminine. She was wearing nothing more than a crimson robe and holding a wooden spoon that all but screamed “Mom”. “Gigi, Jenna and Laina!” she scolded in a deep, husky voice. “This is not where you are supposed to be right now, young ladies!”
Still with the stare, they let out a chorus of, “Sorry, Mama.”
To us, she said, “I am so sorry. I thought the little rascals would be content for ten minutes while I took a shower. Apparently not. Get each other’s hands, now.” The last she practically snarled at them, so low and menacing that she had chills running down my spine. I absently wondered who would be feeling the wrath of the spoon first. Gathering them all close, she flashed them away, leaving me to stare this time.
“Well, you just met three of our nieces. They’re really sweet, just extremely rambunctious and hard-headed more often than not. But you can’t help loving them,” Anya began explaining. “In case you were wondering, yes, they are Darvyn’s. And the vixen belongs to him as well; your sister-in-law Racquell, Rocky for short. By the way, our family castle’s name is the House of Nyx. Now, my dear, lovely sister, I would like to introduce you to the place I come to when I need to feel the most at peace. Welcome to the Springs of Nyx.” With that, she gestured grandly towards the entrance of the hot springs.
And into the steam we walked. Finally I would be able to just sit back and relax. Or so I thought.
14
Hot Springs Eternal
Sigh. Alone at last. Grandmama and Anya finally left me to my own devices after attempt one hundred to reassure them that I would be okay, along with promising them that I wouldn’t flash myself anywhere off the castle grounds. Which was where it turned out the cottage resided, right inside its immense grounds, in the back opposite the pool that was more like a lake, seeing as how it was two times the size of a human Olympic-size pool. They were probably looking at my most recent track record of impossibly bad luck and worried I’d knock myself out and drown or something. Could vampires drown? Was I more vampire than witch now, or more witch than vampire, or an equal combination of the two?
I hadn’t tried to use my element or any spells just yet, too scared to find out they may be gone. I wasn’t ready to lose that much of myself—being a witch was all I’d ever known, whether I’d been born as more or not.
The springs truly were beautiful and relaxing. Just inhaling the steam eased all my senses, the temperature of the water loosening and soothing every muscle. The walls and crevices were similar to the walls of the tunnel, only in place of candles in the sconces, there were lights, whether powered by electricity or magic I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. With the atmosphere in that place, I was going with the latter. Steam and water could go only so far; this was a feeling of absolute euphoria. No wonder Anya loved it down here; she might now have competition for getting any alone time.
I sat there with my eyes closed for so long that I must have drifted off, because the only reasonable explanation for what I began to feel was that I was dreaming. I felt someone spread my legs wide apart, placing my feet on either shoulder. They then used their fingers to spread my folds, giving their mouth and tongue a free pathway to my entrance. With my eyes still closed, I grabbed on to the ledge for support to keep myself from slipping. He delved like that, on and on, for a very long time, making a delectable meal out of me, never once bothering to come up for air.
He added two strong, thick fingers, then three to go along with his tongue. I would have screamed out his name in ecstasy if I’d had a name to scream. It felt so damn good that I couldn’t have cared less about that slight issue.
Keeping his fingers inside me and never missing a beat, he began kissing his way up my body. Once he made his way to my neck, he removed his fingers and impaled me with his large, hard-as-steel shaft in one smooth move.
As he started moving in and out of me, making me even wetter than the springs themselves, I cracked open my eyes.
“Why the fuck am I dreaming about you of all people?”
“Hmmm…probably because this isn’t a dream.”
“Oh, Hel no!” I shoved him off me so hard and fast you could hear a pop as his shaft was forced out of me. He went damn near flying to the center of the springs, laughing that same damn laugh. “How do you keep finding me? And how many times are you going to violate me?” I was in the water and still felt dirty as fuck.
“My, my, my, what strength you have now. Makes you even sexier.”
“Are you fucking for real right now?”
“What? Oh come on, you were enjoying yourself even more than I was. You can hardly describe anything I’ve done to you as a violation. You are my fiancée after all,” he said with a wink.
“Really?! The first time around you flat-out drugged me. This time you let me think I was dreaming, for Goddess’ sake. Where in all the worlds do you see any of that as not violating me?”
“For one, that wasn’t a drug and it didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t already want to do. I wouldn’t have wanted our first several times together to be tainted. It allowed you to do exactly what you have always wanted to without wasting time pondering over the pesky consequences, mainly worrying over what others may think. Secondly…or is that for two? Hmm… Oh, who cares, but I did not violate you just now either. You knew damn well you weren’t dreaming. That was too real to have been a dream and you know it.” He had the nerve to shake his damn head. “And here I thought the beings of this realm would have a different way of thinking; you’re almost as bad as th
ose damn humans. Your every action always has to do with how someone else will react to it. You need to be more like us demons.”
“How is that? Less moral and more evil?”
“No, more feeling and less thinking!” Demon Bran—that was all I could think to call him since I didn’t know his true name—began stalking closer to me. “Live your life for you, not for what others may or may not think of you. Your vampire brethren? They also know how to live. You have been amongst your mother’s witch people for far too long. And if your mother’s people are anything like Bran’s,” he shuddered, “it’s no wonder you think the way you do, while your brain practically broadcasts that you want so much more. Now that I smell your father’s people on you more strongly, maybe you can finally begin learning how to live your life for yourself. If you aren’t enjoying your life, you’re simply existing and nothing more. And where’s the fun in that?”
He was face to face with me now. I could feel his hot breath on my face as he trapped me with his lethal gaze and continued. “I rather like you, my little witch, have come to grow quite fond of you in fact. If you would stop suppressing the many nights we spent together from your memory, you would come to remember that you actually like me too. We did do more than just screw all those nights we spent together, and only that first and last night was it more than just the two of us.
“Now we must part ways again. I must needs be getting back to my ‘deathbed’ and back to those…witches. Even though I would much rather stick a fork in my eye. Hurry things along here—I plan on being healed soon. We do need to prepare for our nuptials.”
He pulled me in to him then, and before I could even take in a breath to protest, his lips were slamming into mine so possessively it almost hurt, but damn if it didn’t feel good. Our tongues battled with each other for a while longer, until he pulled away, saying, “I do apologize for your pup, though. Young Rasputin and I are still trying to figure that one out. We’ll find him soon enough.”
With that last bit of info, he flashed out, leaving a trail of sulfur in his wake, and me with two sets of swollen lips and barely a clue what had happened to Grimm, but a whole lot more worry nonetheless. Only now I knew for sure it was nothing good, especially not for Grimm.
I also had way more questions about my own actions as well. Was what he’d said true? Had whatever he’d given me truly just opened me up to living my deepest, darkest desires, my very own fantasies? If so, me blaming everything on him was the equivalent of blaming it on the alcohol. Too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. And wait…the idiot was working with Rasputin?
“That’s the sorcerer you were working with? That entire family is batshit crazy!” I shouted, apparently to no one.
Finding Grimm had just moved up a couple of notches on my priority list. And “Ah, fuck” just about summed up how I felt.
15
Live And Let Live
Finally emerging from the springs, I toweled off and donned the crimson silk robe that had been left behind for me. No one had thought to leave any shoes or slippers for me, but beggars can’t be choosers. I tied the robe at the waist and flashed my happy-go-lucky self back to Anya’s room. While I was sure there were a million different places within the grounds to pop into, Anya’s room was the most familiar to me. Although I would have liked to explore just a little, I was too afraid of ending up stuck in a wall or some shit. So Anya’s room it was.
Upon entering, the first thing that caught my eye was the elaborate costume lying on the bed. It was the most beautiful ball gown of red silk and lace, with a high collar and long sleeves that billowed out at the ends. The bottom was layers upon asymmetrical layers, floor-length with a minor train at the back and just above the knee at the front.
“Dia de los Muertos, Day of the Dead; it was Abella’s favorite holiday.” Anya entered the room wearing a dress identical to the one before me, only hers was in white. Her feet were bare, and she wore a headband made up of black and red roses atop her perfectly coiffed hair.
“I thought that wasn’t until the day after my—our—birthday. I haven’t been out that long, have I?”
“No,” she said on a tiny laugh. “But in lieu of giving her a boring old wake, her wife would like to put on the parade a week early. So you go on and get dressed while I put on my skull—well, paint it on, anyway.”
“Uh, do you really think I should be going? I mean, she did die because of me, saving me. If not for me she’d probably still be here now. Maybe even planning the parade instead of having one thrown in her honor.”
“You not showing up would be even worse, trust me. There are still a lot of things you don’t know yet. I know it’s not your fault, but it’s just time to start answering your questions, both asked and unasked. You see my closet over there, along that wall? Go look inside of it.”
“Sure, whatever.” I walked over to do as she said, not understanding the why of it.
Like everything else about this cottage, it was much larger on the inside than it was on the outside. It was a walk-in roughly the size of the small kitchen of a studio apartment. It was also just as organized as any boutique would have been. An area for dress clothes, workout gear, casual wear, but looking against the far wall towards the back, I thought I had an inkling of what it was she wanted to show me.
The same outfit that Abella and the others had had on that day, the leather combat gear? There was a full area with identical outfits in there, including the combat gear, boots and weaponry. Only where there had been red flame insignias on theirs, hers had white flames instead.
Walking back out of the closet, I went to ask Anya what all this meant. Then I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw her. She stood there completely consumed in flames of white, with her arms outstretched.
“As I told you before, we’re almost identical, with only a few slight differences in color and personality. We are each our own person, yet one and the same. I would ask if you wanted to go for a few rounds to see if our fighting skills also match, but, I’m already ready to go, so we’ll have to wait for another time.
“The leather? Those are the uniforms of the Royal Guard, assigned to protect us since the day of our birth. Yours always trained, but were never allowed to be around you, since none of our kind was allowed to be around you. While yours bear a red flame, mine bear a white. I don’t think any explanations are needed for the why of that, are they? And they have all been trained to protect us with their very lives. So for you not to show up when one has done just that would be the ultimate insult.
“Now go on and get yourself dressed. As you can see, the dresses have already been bespelled against flames. Hadn’t worried about it with the clothing you had on before, since neither I nor anyone else had any idea you were getting ready to go through your True Turning.”
We walked outside arm in arm to join in with the festivities. I managed to find a pair of knee-high combat boots with a nice sized wedge heel. Anya was still barefoot. I didn’t even bother to ask why. See, sometimes you can teach an old dog new tricks.
Music was playing and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Not just sitting around moping and crying. And no, you didn’t get the feeling that everyone was celebrating her death, more like celebrating her life. It was rather beautiful, actually. Rambiosa was playing now—no Mariachi band music for this crowd. Though the meaning of the song seemed inappropriate to me, I didn’t have the honor of knowing Abella or anything about her, so it might have been the perfect song. It did bring to mind what Demon Bran had said to me about vampires also knowing how to live without a care for what others may or may not think.
Her widow, whose name I would later learn was Marisol, sat on a makeshift dais off to the side. She wore what appeared to be a white wedding gown along with a white veil. From where we stood, I could still see the tears silently leaking down her face, even though she still smiled. Beings from all factions—except for witches, which admittedly I was ashamed about—went up to her with offerings
of flowers, their wrist to sip from, or some just with condolences. It was beautiful the way everyone grieved together without all the dramatics that usually go with a funeral.
Everyone was elaborately dressed, from the women to the men to even the children. I thought I spied the triplets bouncing around hand in hand, but couldn’t be sure with all the face paint.
Anya and I joined in the festivities, laughing, drinking, and talking about nothing. We even weaved in and out of the parade, ducking beneath the people walking on stilts. We were like two teenagers, out and about having a good time with not a care in the world. The atmosphere was beyond amazing. As we danced in the middle of the street with all the others, someone came up behind me.
“Mind if I join in?”
“I’ll just leave the two of you to it. Catch you later, Sis—we still have a lot to catch up on. Call me selfish, but I’m just so glad you’re here now.” Anya pulled me in for a quick, tight embrace, then slunk off into the night.
“You, my dear, look simply ravishing in that dress.”
Chandler hadn’t bothered with the face paint, probably because he could make himself into a zombie-like creature at any given second. He was dressed to the nines, though, wearing a black Mexican-style suit with white thread, complete with black sombrero and an unbuttoned blood-red dress shirt underneath that went perfectly with my dress. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe how he looked. Maybe scrumptious, edible, delectable…something along those lines would suffice.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” That came out a little huskier than I’d planned.
“Hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you also look rather hungry. Your fangs are inching longer by the second.”
“Huh, I hadn’t even noticed. But now that you mention it, I do feel rather parched.” My stomach chose that moment to start pinching me, I guess to emphasize that point.
Witch Wars: The Underlayes, Book One Page 9
