“That’s as good a guess as any,” I lied. Those problems had been going on since long before I’d been shielding. But I didn’t want to worry her. Now was not the time.
She studied me, looking worried. “You sure you got this under control?”
I shrugged. “Ish?”
We grinned at each other. “You take care,” she said quietly, as I walked her back to her undead ball. I waved at the room full of sullen faces. “Have fun at the fair, Conformists. Take care, Mistress Emo.” I took off before they could respond. I could have sworn that I heard one of them putting a curse on me as I walked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Renaissance Fair
As it turned out, Christian was available, so we went to the Renaissance Fair together. He picked me up at the house, tossing me a pink t-shirt when I opened the door. I curled my lip at him. “Huh?”
He grinned, shrugging. “I had it made after last year’s fair. I thought it would be cute. Nice hair, by the way, Barney.”
“Thanks, candy ass. So, what are you gonna give me to wear this?”
“Look at it before you reject it out of hand.”
I unfolded it. I couldn’t keep an embarrassingly girlish giggle from escaping my lips. It had black lettering above an obnoxious cartoon. It looked like a blond, shirtless, anime version of Christian. The lettering read, “Dragonslayers have giant swords.”
“No way.” I threw it at him. He flipped it, showing me the back. It read “Dragonslayers do it dragon style.”
I raised a brow at him. “You must have some present for me, if you think you can bribe me into wearing that.”
He bent down, flipping up his pant leg. He unlatched an extremely badass looking ankle sheath. “It’s been blessed by a holy druid. It grows hot against your skin when evil draws near. And the knife hilt is studded with rubies. I know how you and Lynn like your jewels.”
I took it from him, studying it closely. It was beautifully made, and I did love gems. “I’ve been called evil myself, but it’s not hot against my skin now.”
“Rather, someone that means to do evil to you.” He flipped open his button up shirt. Underneath, he wore his own pink T-shirt. Hot pink. He was secure, I supposed. It had the same cartoon as mine, but his had a hot blond anime chick kneeling at his feet. Me? I threw up a little in my throat. It read, ‘Level 140 Dragonslayer = Hot Chick Magnet.’ I looked from his shirt to the knife. I really, really liked the knife. I had a weakness for ankle sheaths and he knew it. I already had a small gun strapped to the inside of my left ankle. My jeans hid it completely, as they would this knife. “I bet you got that knife at the same time you got those T-shirts made. You’ve been planning this for a year?”
He nodded, grinning. He knew I couldn’t resist the treasure. Which was more than a little alarming, if I thought about it.
I grabbed the shirt out of his hands, glaring at him. I whipped off my navy T-shirt, right in front of him. I wasn’t, by nature, immodest. I just couldn’t have cared less if Christian saw me in my bra. I pulled the pink shirt over my chest with difficulty. “You get me kid-sized?” I grouched, as I struggled into the shirt.
He nodded. He had no shame. “That I did.”
I finally got it on. It didn’t even cover my belly button. I felt ridiculous, but I held out my hand for the knife. “I like the video game reference. Level 140, huh? Nerd.”
He shrugged. “I’m a renaissance man. Nerd is a title people wear proudly these days. You can’t deny you’ve clocked in a little MMO time yourself.” He stuck his tongue out at me.
I sucker punched him in the stomach as I walked by. He grunted, winded. “Let’s go, candy ass,” I ordered.
The Renaissance Fair took up all of Sunset park this year. It had grown significantly since the last time we’d been. I swear it got a little freakier every year, too. I wasn’t exactly into the fair, but I liked to come and laugh at it, and people watch, of course. A lot of the antics going on were just good comedy. I understood a lot of the ‘authentic’ costumes so many of the ren enthusiasts were wearing. But just as many of the costumes made no sense to me. Like why was there a flock of kids dressed up for Hogwarts? And why were random people in the crowd dressed up like superheroes? And what was with the fat dude dressed up like a hostess cupcake? And why the hell was Lynn dressed as a dominatrix? I’d have to ask her, if we found her tent in the huge gathering.
We didn’t get far into the fair before Christian was drawn to some concession stand. I sat down at a picnic table to people watch while he waited in line. He came back with some kind of deep fried confection I’d never seen before. “What is that?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in distaste.
“Guess.”
“Donut poop?”
“Deep fried twinkie. Mmmmmmm.”
“That’s disgusting. Who the hell even thought of that?”
He shrugged. “Iyonno,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Try some.”
I shook my head. “Uh-uh. If I’m gonna eat something that wrong, it’s at least gonna be frosted or dipped in chocolate. Seriously, though, I want to know who was eating a twinkie and thought, ‘Hmm, this thing needs to be more fattening?’”
“There’s frosting on the inside.”
“It’s not the same.”
He finished off the half dozen pastries, looking around for something. “Now I want a couple of those giant turkey legs. Usually they sell those all over the place. Where are they?” he wondered out loud.
I rolled my eyes at him. “You have a tape worm or something?”
He grinned. “Or something. I’m always this hungry.”
“Boys are weird.”
He stuck his tongue out at me, standing up. “Let’s go find more food,” he said, sounding like a teenage boy. He pulled me after him. I dragged my feet, but followed along.
“Who comes to the ren fair just to eat?” I complained.
“Us. Duh.”
“You, maybe. I came to make fun of Lynn and her tent full of emos. I think one of them was trying to curse me when I left the living room this morning. They are so damn easy to rile up.”
“Oh, we’ll do that, too. But we have all day to find them.”
Christian found his turkey legs, eating slowly this time. We were silent for awhile, watching the festivities around us. A group of tight-clad boys walked by, and I nodded towards them. “What would I have to do to make you wear tights next year?”
He smiled around his mouthful of turkey. “Blow me?”
“Iiick. Thanks a lot. I just puked in my mouth.”
“Anytime. I don’t do tights.”
“Everyone has a price.” As I spoke, I felt eyes on me. Not your typical ‘checking me out’ eyes. Or people watching stares. Someone was watching us very intently. I found the man quickly. That was using the term man loosely. He was very tall, with beautiful, long black hair. He was of some kind of Asian descent. I couldn’t have said what, but he was very pretty. He sat at a table about fifty yards away, arms folded, as he stared, an unreadable look on his face. As though he had been waiting for me to spot him, he started walking towards me almost as soon as I found him. “You know this guy?” I murmured to Christian, as the man drew close.
Christian turned, his gaze turning cold as the the man approached.
He was taller than I’d realized as he loomed over our sitting positions. He didn’t sit. I just stared up at him, raising a brow. “You two are friends?” he asked, genuine surprise in his voice.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“Do we know you?” Christian spoke at the same time.
“No. I just find it very strange that you two are acting as though you’re friendly with each other.”
I gave him a flat stare. Christian told him what he could do with himself.
The man just stared at him calmly. “This is very peculiar and disturbing.” He looked at me as he spoke. “What are you doing with him?” he asked me directly.
“Who the fuck are you?�
� Christian stood up as he spoke. He wasn’t as tall as the stranger, but he put in a good showing.
The man eyed him coldly. “You don’t know what I am?” he asked softly.
“How would I know what you are? I don’t even know who you fucking are!” Christian looked about one second from punching the stranger, so I grabbed his right arm, pulling him away. Christian didn’t seem to understand what the strange man was, but I was starting to get a very bad feeling that I did know. This was turning into one bad week.
The man bowed slightly, mockingly. “Interesting,” he said, more to himself, I thought. He nodded at us. “Nice T-shirts.” He almost smirked. He melded with disturbing ease and speed into the crowd.
“I don’t like that guy,” Christian muttered.
I smiled grimly. “That doesn’t surprise me. Let’s go find Lynn.”
We covered about half of the fair before we got distracted by food again. It was ice cream this time, and I indulged. “I was surprised to find you off of work today.” I made conversation as we giggled at some of the random fair enthusiasts walking by. The pirates were in rare form this year.
“Oh, that. I may have a lot of days off coming up, actually.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been given an extended leave of absence.”
I raised my brows at him. “What did you do?”
He smiled ruefully. “Apparently there’s a pretty long list.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Hmmm, I already forget a lot of it. I recall something about collateral damage being mentioned. Willful destruction of property, maybe? The term trigger happy was thrown around a lot. Very very trigger happy was mentioned once or twice. Carrying illegally enhanced weapons on the job? Carrying several illegally enhanced weapons, even. Apparently when enforcing the law, they expect you to abide by it. What the bloody hell is with that?”
My eyes widened. Someone had been misbehaving. Which didn’t really surprise me. I was more surprised that he’d allowed himself to get in trouble for it. “How long of a leave are we talking?”
He shrugged. “Forever?”
“Wow. What are you gonna do?”
He shrugged, not looking at all concerned. “Play around for a few months. After I get bored, I was thinking fireman. Maybe. Who wouldn’t love a flame-retardant fireman?” I laughed. He really was flame-retardant. What else could he be when he existed to fight dragons? He needed a few tricks up his sleeve for such deadly creatures.
“Well, at least I’ll always have some good connections on the force,” he said, sighing. Law enforcement was a popular vocation for druids. Christian got all of his inside information on the Other community from some druids he had become close friends with on the force over the years. He, like myself, didn’t hate all druids. Just the vast majority of them.
“Now that we’re done talking about my jobless self, would you like to tell me about that thing on your wrist?” Christian asked, his tone concerned. I’d had little hope that he wouldn’t notice the geas.
I sighed, shaking the thing like I might get lucky and just make it fall off. “It’s a mess, of course. Collin found me yesterday. I’m supposed to go see Dom soon.”
Christian whistled softly. “Found twice in two days. Looks like your luck has run out, girl. How can I help?”
I grimaced. “I’ll let you know. I think I have it under control, though, for now. I have an idea. I may have a way around this geas.”
He cringed comically. “Famous last words. Don’t hesitate to call me in on the fiasco, whatever it is, I beg you.”
I wished I could argue with him that my idea wasn’t a fiasco, but he wasn’t wrong. Trying to get out of a geas was only the act of a desperate person. Still, I had to try…
“I’ll let you know,” I assured him.
CHAPTER NINE
Mistress Jillian
Lynn’s pitch-black tent stood out like a sore thumb amidst the other pastel ones. A long line stretched out from the gothic, fortune-telling attraction. We waited in line gamely, trying to overhear any gossip about what was going on inside. Only one person was being admitted at a time. At this rate, we’d be here for hours. We killed time by thinking up pranks to pull on Lynn and her followers. When we got bored with that, we just bypassed the line, ignoring the jeers from the crowd.
We loomed over the skinny black-haired boy guarding the door. He looked up at us, wearing the perpetually tormented look on his face that Lynn’s emos favored, the one that always made me laugh. “We’re here to see your mistress,” Christian told him after he’d stared him down for a good minute.
The boy shook his head firmly. “Mistress Noir is only admitting one truth-seeker at a time.”
I smirked at him. “We aren’t seeking the truth. Move aside, son.”
He pursed his lips at me. “Are you acquainted with the mistress?”
Christian and I nodded. “Tell her Christian and Jillian are here.” He disappeared inside the tent for a moment. He came back out, waving us in. “She will deign to see you,” he sniffed. Christian messed up his stiffly coifed hair as he walked by. The boy gasped in outrage. “Good boy,” Christian told him as we walked inside.
The inside of the tent was, of course, as black as the outside. It was broken up into sections by thick black curtains. The first room was, predictably, the fortune-tellers room. Complete with cheesy crystal ball. A young goth waited behind the ball, face aged with bad make-up effects. An old/young goth/gypsy? Whatever. We passed by her, entering the next curtained area. This room was much bigger, and obviously where the real party was going on. Lynn held court at the back of the room, dressed as a pirate now. I nodded in her direction, but quickly got distracted by the tableau being acted out in the opposite corner of the room.
A tiny dominatrix was putting on quite a show for the room. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, with curly black hair down to her waist. She had the perfect face of a doll. It’s expression, however, was far from doll-like. She wore a savage look as she glared down at her feet. Her five inch stilettos looked razor sharp, and were currently digging into the prone back of a man easily twice her size. He was moaning pitiably. “You ask permission to speak, worm!” she was barking at him as we entered the room. She used her whip on him with every word she spoke. She didn’t even look up as we entered.
“Yes, Mistress Devour,” the poor, submissive man moaned. His back was bloody.
I glanced back in Lynn’s direction briefly. “That’s fucked up,” I told her. She smirked at me.
I wasn’t ignorant about such things. I’d been hanging around Lynn long enough to see my fair share of it. But I didn’t like the look of this little spectacle.
I approached the kinky couple, kneeling down beside the bound man. He lifted his head the barest amount. His long, curly, auburn hair nearly covered his eyes. I brushed it away with one fingertip. His dark blue eyes met mine reluctantly. I was sure eye contact wasn’t something his vicious lover encouraged. I could tell with one look that he was truly submissive. “You ok?” I asked him directly. “You’re consenting to this?”
“Yes.” His hoarse voice was soft. Mistress Devour started whipping him in earnest. “I didn’t give you permission to speak!” she screeched. Her voice sounded petulant and childlike. I grabbed her whip easily with one hand, not taking my eyes off of her tortured lover.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Luke.”
“Well, Luke, my name is Jillian. Your friend here is a little overzealous. If she ever gets to be too much for you, let me know if you need a hand getting loose.” He could always overpower her physically, so that wasn’t really what I was worried about. But a bound sub with little to no boundaries in the hands of the wrong dominant could always use a friend. He nodded slightly, lowering his gaze.
Mistress Devour looked ready to throw an outright tantrum. I hesitated, not really wanting to hand her back her whip.
“He’ll speak when I say he can speak
!” she spat, glaring at me. Oh great. I’d probably just brought out her possessive side. She stomped her razor heals repeatedly into his back. “You’re little blond can’t save you from me!” she was yelling at him. Had she really just called me little? I was easily a foot taller than the little termagant. I stifled a laugh. She continued, “If you speak to her again, I’ll wipe the floor with her ass, then beat you both. Is that what you want?”
A few laughs were stifled around the room at that boast. I didn’t bother stifling mine, laughing outright. Her murderous glance shot back to me. “You’re laughing? You won’t be laughing when I scratch up that pretty face!”
I laughed harder.
She flew at me, claws outstretched for a classic girl fight. I had both of her hands behind her back before she could touch me. She didn’t even know how to fight. I couldn’t stop laughing for a few minutes as she spat curses at me. I could hear both Christian and Lynn, giggling like children, as she went on and on.
Finally, I shook her slightly, saying, “Shut it,” in the most serious voice I could muster. “You really don’t want to try to attack me like that again. Ever. Next time, I won’t just restrain you. This is the only warning you’re ever going to get. Oh, and lay off of Luke when I’m near, or you’ll regret it.” I finally let her go. She was smarter than I’d guessed. She merely stormed out of the tent.
“Thank you, Mistress.” Luke’s voice was muffled, his face in the floor. I realized he was talking to me.
“No problem. Call me Jillian. You want to be untied or anything?”
“No, Mistress Jillian.”
I rolled my eyes. Christian and Lynn started laughing harder. I hadn’t seen Christian move, but he was lounging beside Lynn now. I noticed, for the first time since entering the tent, another familiar face lurking in the corner near Lynn. I nodded to Caleb. Even his usually stoic face was split in a grin. He nodded back.
We went way back with Caleb, far enough back that he must have started to seriously suspect what we were. At the moment, he was a nondescript man with a cleanly shaven head, unremarkable features, and an average, if hard, build. And the coldest, blankest brown eyes I had ever seen. It was his favorite form. His ‘blend in with the scenery’ form. But he could shed it in minutes and take on another. I didn’t know the limits to the forms he could take. It’s wasn’t the sort of information he would ever volunteer.
Breathing Fire (Heretic Daughters) Page 5
