Lost Beauty (Deadly Beauties Live On)

by C. M. Owens

KYA

  “What are you looking at?” Slade asks me as he comes into my makeshift bedroom.

  “The alignment of the stars is wrong,” I tell him, prepared for the inevitable argument.

  “No. I checked it several times,” he argues predictably, leaning against the edge of the desk I’m at.

  I spread out the astrological charts I’ve been analyzing for the past several hours, trying to figure out what I can.

  “It’s at least another week, give or take a few days. The stars here aren’t going to be in place in time,” I tell him, pointing to the two misfits.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says under his breath.

  “I’ve been taking pictures and developing them daily. It’s not going to be tomorrow, Slade. But they might think the same thing you did, and we might be able to catch them while they’re exposed and failing at the attempt.”

  His lips quirk up in a half smile. “Brilliant.”

  That small bit of validation makes all the efforts worth it. He hates being wrong, usually, but this time seems to be an exception.

  “Good job.”

  I don’t tell him I’ve been searching for distractions that don’t include me kicking everyone’s ass on the sparring field as I’ve been doing. I just lucked up with the stars actually having something worth studying.

  I haven’t seen or heard from Chaz in two days. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He left me naked and alone in the middle of the woods, and I still don’t know why. I shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t be a priority.

  Survival is supposed to be paramount before all else right now, just as it’s always been. Actually living... Maybe one day.

  “You’re a million miles away right now,” Slade says, not looking up from the charts.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “You’re distracted. I thought I handled your distraction after he hurt you,” he says, acting as though he’s not talking about anything serious.

  “What does that mean?” I ask, worried.

  Did he hurt Chaz? Chaz is strong, though. In a fight, he’d at least leave Slade hurting too, and Slade hasn’t had so much as a limp.

  “I didn’t lay a hand on him,” he says flatly.

  “That doesn’t answer my question, and why did you do anything at all?”

  “To provoke a reaction. I knew you’d be distracted until you had answers. I got no real reaction, so there’s your answer,” he says emotionlessly, straightening back up.

  “What did you do?” I ask yet again.

  “Told him to stay away, and let him think we’re fucking.”

  “But we’re not,” I point out.

  “Perfectly aware,” he says dryly. “I’m not interested.”

  Neither am I, but I hold my tongue. “What about Ella?” I ask instead, deciding to shift him off-foot since he’s doing it to me.

  His jaw tics at the mere mention of her name.

  “What is it that gets you all pissed off when you hear her name?” I go on.

  He cuts his eyes toward me. “Why does it feel like you’re the one trying to provoke me now?”

  My lips twitch. “Because I want to see your reaction.”

  He turns back toward the papers, and he snatches them. He leaves without another word, and I blow out a breath. I’ll pay for that later on the spar grounds.

  My fingernails click rapidly against the surface of the desk, and I look through the window, wondering what the Scooby gang are doing right now. It’s dark out, so it’s unlikely the visionary would be able to spy on them until light again.

  Are they outside? Are they sparring at night like we are? Are they ready for this? Are they still grieving the loss of their friend?

  I’ve never had a friend, other than Slade, so I don’t know the appropriate grieving period.

  Frustrated, I grab my belt with a sheath and put it on, then toss an anointed sword in the sheath. I won’t be satisfied until I see him with my own eyes and know he’s safe. Why? Hell if I know.

  The others are in the sparring field that is illuminated only by the moonlight. As I walk out, a few eyes swing to me questioningly, possibly wondering if I need to get out some more of my frustration on their faces.

  “I’m going to patrol,” I tell them, ignoring their sighs of relief as I head toward the woods.

  The second I’m far enough away to avoid being seen, I dematerialize. I have to stop and go several times in order to reach the Scooby gang’s camp, since it’s a good distance away and I can’t dematerialize too much at one time. I’m out of breath by the time I finally make it, and I know it’ll be a while before I can dematerialize again.

  Voices in the distance let me know this trip isn’t for nothing because they’re obviously outside right now.

  Tired, I make it to the far edge of their camp, silently finding a spot so they can’t see me through the bushes. I also find a nice, fat tree to give me even more cover. I watch like a stalker, peering around the tree. My heart hits my throat when I spot Chaz coming out of the boarded up cabin.

  My heart is thundering, but not because I can see him. It’s because I can’t see him. He has on a backwards hat, and he’s wearing that white mask I saw him wear that first night at the rings—the white one that only has holes in the eyes and nowhere else.

  He’s wearing a tight black tank, and his jeans hang low on his hips. He’s like a dark promise being delivered at midnight.

  As my eyes dart around, I notice he’s not the only one wearing a mask; they all are. Every person has on a full or half mask that covers most or all of their faces. The girls have on hoods, and the guys have on hats.

  Then I realize why, and it’s utter genius. The visionary can’t see them. If the visionary can even force a vision—which is still up for debate—he’d be searching for the faces through hundreds of thousands of images. If all he sees are masks, his mind will keep going, looking elsewhere, not bothering to investigate.

  I almost hate that I didn’t think of it first.

  I try to figure out who is who by listening to their voices, and hear Leah as she curses and glares down at her outstretched hands. Her mask is red, and stops just above her lips. She’s wearing a black hoodie, and the hood is drawn up.

  My sleeveless shirt I’m wearing has a hood, and I tug it up, shrouding myself that much at least.

  “I can’t. All I can do is dematerialize, and even that is wrong, because I keep getting stuck on other planes. Pixies are fucking vicious, by the way. I don’t want to go back there,” she’s telling Zee, who is covering his smile.

  “You can,” he says, wiping away the mocking grin as he stands behind her, sliding his arms around her waist with a comfortable intimacy I envy.

  They’re so close with no barriers between them. She’s so at ease with herself and him.

  “I only did it that one time because I thought you were dead and I went loco. I don’t want to go loco again.”

  “You won’t go loco. That was your emotions controlling the power,” I hear Zee promise. “You have to control it.”

  I spot someone dancing off to the side, and that’s a dead giveaway. Stealthily, I make my way over to another tree that’s closer, peering around it as the incubus sings something about being horny and let’s do it, and there’s also something about a pony in there too.

  His mask is black and red, and I assume the smiling face wearing a blue half mask in front of him is my sister, even though the hood blocks her hair.

  The incubus thrusts his hips, still singing and dancing, and... Is he seriously stripping? “They call me Magic Dice,” he says, thrusting his hips again. “Hashtag—make it rain.”

  He makes a sizzling sound with his mouth as he tweaks both his nipples with his fingertips. Ummm... I don’t even know what to think about that.

  Karma laughs so freely, and my heart clenches as she watches him as though she’s truly in love and happy.

  This is so different from our camp. People are fighting and training. Our live
s depend on being prepared. Yet here, they’re training and laughing, as though the world may not come to an end in less than a week.

  For all they know, the world could end tomorrow. The day Slade gave them is incorrect.

  Gage and Thad—at least I think it’s them—are going one-on-one, sparring physically only, and definitely holding back. Two girls are also sparring, but I’m not sure who they are.

  Dice is now holding his shirt between his legs and doing some weird thing where he’s pulling it back and forth like... I’m not sure what to compare it to. It seems to only make Karma laugh harder.

  My sister and I have very different senses of humor, apparently. I’m more likely to laugh at Simone’s face accidentally slamming into my fist than to laugh at... whatever it is that odd incubus is trying to achieve at the moment.

  My gaze shifts again and settles on Chaz who is sparring with someone—I’m not sure who, but it’s a male. Each time the other man strikes, Chaz knocks him down to the ground. Each time Chaz lands a punch, the other man cries out in pain.

  Chaz is barely using a fraction of his strength. I’ve seen him fight for real, and that was before he opened himself up fully.

  “You’re really pissing me off,” the injured man grunts as he slowly gets up. Each time seems to be slower.

  “You’re just getting old, Drackus,” Chaz tells the masked man who cracks his neck to the side.

  Alyssa’s father is apparently the sparring partner.

  A blast of black shoots free from the man’s hands, and Chaz disappears, only to reappear behind Drackus and kick him hard in the back. When Drackus flops down to the ground this time, he groans and curses at the same time.

  “Cheaters never prosper,” Chaz taunts.

  Just the sound of his deep timbre has me shuddering. I really need to get a handle on myself.

  Forcing my eyes away, I study Leah again as the others all do their own thing. A small spark ignites at her fingertips, and she squeals in excitement. But immediately she pouts when the spark goes out.

  Smiling, I watch as Zee kisses her, holding her to him like she’s precious and he can’t get enough. A sigh escapes me before I can stop it, and I internally slap myself for becoming a romantic.

  When my eyes try to find Chaz again, I frown. He’s not with Drackus anymore. Now Drackus is fighting someone else.

  My gaze darts from person to person, looking over each mask. Just as I decide to change positions to see more, a strong hand clamps over my mouth, and a body presses hard against mine from behind. Another arm snakes around my waist, holding me tightly to a familiar frame.

  I don’t even bother fighting, because I know who has me. Shit.

  “See anything you like?” he whispers against my ear.

  His hand on my waist slides around in a caress, and I close my eyes. It takes a lot of strength not to taste the hand that is covering my mouth.

  “You avoid me for two days so you can come watch me, while you hide in the shadows? That’s not fair, Kya. I’ve wanted to see you too.”

  His warm breath fans the side of my face as he leans over and gently scrapes his lips over my neck. My entire body shivers in response, and I feel him smirk against me.

  Slowly, he removes his hand from my mouth, and I lick my lips, wetting them as I try to get a handle on my rapid, ridiculously erratic breaths.

  His newly freed hand removes my hood, tugging it down. I stare straight ahead, refusing to turn around and face him.

  “You forget my senses are really good. I knew the second you got close.”

  “How?” I whisper, watching as the others go on about their interests, unaware of us.

  “Your scent and my scent. You have my scent all over you, despite the showers you’ve taken.” He pushes my hair to the side and flicks his tongue against the sensitive flesh he’s revealed, and I bite back a moan. “Which means he hasn’t touched you.”

  “I’ve never touched Slade like that,” I say, feeling the unnecessary need to announce that.

  “Good. I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

  Anger bubbles up inside me at how weak I feel in his arms. A puppet. A lusty puppet. I’m not supposed to be anyone’s puppet.

  “Says the man who walked away with no explanation and left me naked and alone in the woods.” The snarky bite to my tone definitely cuts the strings between puppeteer and puppet.

  He stills against me, going rigid. Suddenly, my breath leaves in a harsh rush as my body goes weightless. It doesn’t take but a second to realize what he’s done, and I screw my eyes shut until we’re suddenly stopping somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

  “That was probably the shittiest thing I could have done,” he says on an exhale, his hand moving across my stomach again as I study the new surroundings.

  “It was damn close,” I agree. “Where are we?” I ask, trying to move away from him.

  “Somewhere private where we can talk.”

  His hands fall away, and I stumble forward, trying to get my bearings again. I finally turn to face him as he cocks his head. He looks eerie in that mask, and his stance is definitely predatory right now. I’m nothing but prey in his eyes.

  “You’re fighting me now?” he drawls, taking a step closer.

  It feels like déjà vu.

  “Do I need to remind you again what you did?”

  “Why were you at our cabin?” he asks instead.

  “Why did you just leave? What did I say that was so wrong?”

  I can’t help it. I have to know. It’s been driving me crazy, even though he’s obviously not worth the trouble. My mind and body don’t seem to be on the same page with that last bit.

  “You said you only fucked me to calm me down,” he states flatly, confusing me. “I thought it was a little more than that, so... I reacted poorly. It pissed me off.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I immediately point out.

  “You did.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth. I said I calmed you down, but I didn’t say that’s the only reason I did that, Chaz.”

  My arms wrap around myself to essentially shield me. Not that anything is shielded. I’ve always felt exposed around him. With everyone else, I’ve felt comfortably guarded. He strips me bare with just one look every single time.

  He groans before finally pulling off that damn mask and tossing it aside. His hat stays on, and he moves toward me too fast for me to move away. In a blur, he’s on me, pushing me against a tree, and I try to remain angry as he pins me in place. Because... That’s how I’m supposed to be, right?

  He’s making it hard to think as he tilts my head up and stares into my eyes like he’s trying to find something.

  “I fucked up,” he finally says.

  “I’m well aware.”

  His lips twitch, but I don’t know what he finds so amusing.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding genuine.

  “Don’t just abandon me when you get pissed. I spent the majority of my life in a cage. I won’t always know what to say or not to say. I—”

  He kisses me to cut me off, and I stiffen against him until my body can’t resist any longer. As I melt against him, he leisurely explores my mouth with his teasing tongue, tasting me, seeking... It’s very distracting.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, he pushes his forehead to mine, staring into my eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. I mean it. You did nothing wrong. Other than tell Slade.”

  He grins like he’s joking, but I’m confused. “I didn’t tell Slade. Slade was there.”

  His eyebrows go up. “Not during... that. He showed up while we were talking,” I add.

  “And saw you naked?” His voice gets darker, aggression stirring.

  “He’s seen me naked quite a bit. Most of my life, actually. He doesn’t see me as sexual because he watched my body turn into a woman’s. It’s... sick to think of me as more.”

  He slowly relaxes. “And you?”

  “I see him as my only family.”r />
  His lips tense. “Karma?”

  “She’s my twin. I’d like for her to be family one day, but for now, she’s just a girl I’m scared to get close to until I don’t have to worry about losing her.”

  My voice gets strained on that last part, betraying the emotion I’m trying to mask.

  He runs his hand through my hair, and his other hand slides down my arm. “You don’t have to be cold to survive anymore. Emotions make us stronger.”

  “Emotions lead to rash decisions and stupid mistakes.”

  He grins. “Rash decisions like fucking a man who might accidentally claim you for all eternity?”

  I bristle.

  “Rash decisions such as showing up at our place so you could spy on me?”

  “I wasn’t spying—”

  “Rash decisions like showing up to save a child’s life—a child you didn’t even know?”

  My jaw grows tight, but he’s not finished taunting me, exposing all my hypocrisies under a harsh light.

  “Stupid mistakes like luring in the one guy who might just take everything you have to offer?” he asks, his voice lowering to a more seductive edge just before he kisses me again.

  He doesn’t stop kissing me this time, and I don’t push him away. He makes me reckless, and he’s definitely not good for me. But every time I feel something... anything... I spiral back into the rabbit hole where down is up and wrong is right.

  He pushes into me, and I push right back until our bodies are suctioned together so close that it makes kissing hard—given the extreme height differences. He remedies that by grabbing my ass and lifting me up his body so that he doesn’t have to bend so far.

  My legs slide around his waist like it’s their happy place, and my fingers tangle in his hair as I hold on. No clue where his hat went, but my fingers continue to greedily enjoy its absence.

  Reckless tastes really damn good.

  He spins, and I feel that weightlessness again until there’s suddenly something soft against my back. My eyes open as I break the kiss and take in the new surroundings.

  How did we get into a room?

  Chaz tugs his shirt over his head while I’m distracted, and then I feel mine being tugged off. I look at him just as my shirt is tossed aside, and I arch an eyebrow.