Trickskin

by Amelia R. Moore

  Loken wasn’t sure what beaches had to do with anything, but he plucked a cherry out of the bowl, ate it, and turned away—childish though it was. The sweet juice lingered on his tongue, reminding him of the many times he’d picked fresh fruit from the tree’s in his mother’s garden.

  “Goodnight, Lail,” Raaum said softly.

  The click of the door announced her departure, and Loken slept.

  He must have forgotten to re-cast the locking spell because he awoke to Ian opening the curtains, and Danika pulling the covers off of him. Light flooded into the room, blinding him, and he had to shield his eyes to see Nora standing at his bedside. Brows raised, she handed him a fresh towel with an expectant look.

  Scowling, he tossed the towel aside. “Go away!” he snapped, surprised to find his timbre had deepened. He must have resumed his male Evoir form while he slept, but no one commented on it.

  Ian came to the foot of his bed. “Up, Princess! We’ve got a full day planned. The salon, dinner, and then skating. ”

  Loken only stared at him impassively.

  “Dr. Partridge said it’s important to give you choices,” Ian continued. “So, you can choose between a manicure, pedicure, or both.”

  “You’ll want both,” Danika commented.

  “Then, you can choose where we eat.”

  “There’s tons of great restaurants,” Danika added.

  “Finally, you can choose inline skates or the ones with the four wheels.”

  “Quads. Both are completely valid,” Danika assured him.

  “So, get dressed!”

  Loken looked at Nora tiredly.

  She threw up her hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m not part of this. Your boyfriend and your girlfriend want to take you out.”

  “Hey!” Ian said, mockingly offended. “I hope I’m the girlfriend in that sentence.”

  Nora rolled her eyes and left.

  Before they could usher him from the bed again, he stood and walked to the bathroom with the towel. If doing so gave them a full view of his rather inadequate underwear, that was their problem. Making himself presentable took no less time in this form, meticulous as he was. Fatigue made it difficult to start the process, but taking it one step at a time made it easier. Fortunately, Danika and Ian had vacated his room, so he was able to dress in peace.

  Once he exited, however, they wasted no time enacting the rest of their plan. Stepping outside was no easier than it had been the last time, but Danika locked arms with him as they walked towards a sleek, red car and chattered away, distracting him from his discomfort.

  It was impossible to shake the fear that ALPHA might catch them unawares while they were out gallivanting. So he stayed vigilant—even as Danika, who was sitting beside him in the backseat, explained what skating was and how her dad would take her and her sister on the weekends when they were little.

  “We always finished the night off with milkshakes,” she said with a small smile. Loken wasn't too distracted to notice that there was old grief in her eyes.

  “Then, we will have to do the same,” he said, her pain distracting him from his own.

  Had that been her intent? No. Danika wasn't quite that underhanded.

  “I know just the place,” Ian said from the driver’s seat.

  Silence fell, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He stared out the window, watching as thick wilderness grew sparse, replaced gradually by civilization. It wasn't a short drive, but he didn't mind. Once they started, his anxiety diminished minute by minute until he felt a bone-deep relief at the open space. He hadn't considered the possibility that, once over the initial hurdle, he would find solace outside the walls of the compound.

  After all the effort Ian had put into making him feel welcome in his home, it seemed a thankless revelation to speak.

  The salon’s patrons were mostly women, but the owner was male. His accent was thick, but Loken couldn't have placed the man's origins if he tried—and it wasn't important enough to dwell on. Despite the wall of nail polish (something he knew of because Danika occasionally liked to paint her nails) that gave the business a feminine appeal, Ian didn't hesitate to take charge.

  “Pick your color,” he said to them, eyes dancing with mirth as he gestured to the wall.

  Loken knew men did not often have their nails painted on Earth, and although he was neutral to the idea, he followed Ian’s lead and picked a clear coat.

  Ian ordered a manicure and pedicure for himself before turning to Loken and Danika.

  “Want the whole package too? Otherwise, you two can wait while I splurge.”

  “Then, the whole package it is,” Loken said, though he had no idea what that would entail.

  Apparently, neither did Danika.

  “Uh, whatever you’re doing,” she said. Then, as they were led to the back of the salon, she whispered, “I haven't been to one of these places since prom.”

  “You poor woman,” Ian said before Loken could ask what prom was.

  Ian was the first to sit in one of the large leather chairs. Following his lead, Loken sat on Ian’s left, and Danika sat on Loken’s other side.

  “Is this a bad time to admit my feet are very ticklish?” Danika asked as each of them were approached by workers (all women) who greeted them and got the foot baths ready.

  “Yes, because now I’m going to use that against you,” Ian said, already leaned back in his chair with his metal leg propped up over edge of the foot bath.

  Then, they were left alone with their feet soaking in hot, bubbling baths (with chemicals Ian informed him were anti-bacterial and softening).

  “Turn on your chair, Princess.”

  When Loken gave Ian a puzzled look, he reached over, grabbed a remote, and fiddled. Loken startled when the chair began to vibrate, pulsing and rubbing against his back in an odd pattern.

  Who in the universe would consider this comfortable? Apparently Ian and Danika did because they closed their eyes and leaned back. Acquiescing, he did the same and tried to get accustomed to the sensations.

  Cold metal strapped across his forehead, keeping him in place while the drill piercing his skull rattled his teeth—

  Loken turned off the chair, heart pounding.

  Despite the blank look on his face, Danika must have noticed his turmoil because she put her hand on his and smiled. He didn’t have to look to see that Ian had noticed something was up but said nothing.

  The workers returned to them, and Loken assumed the women knew what they were doing because they got to work without a word. He’d been tended to by servants all his life, been pampered and prepared for special events more times than he could count, but it was not easy to accept the touch of a stranger again. Even in such a professional manner.

  He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking breaths to cut off the anxiety attack before it could begin. For reasons he couldn’t explain, the sensation of Danika’s soft hand in his helped him relax while the woman used a strange contraption to stretch out and separate his toes. While they worked (clipping, plucking, and massaging), he watched Danika fight the instinct to giggle and pull away.

  Loken met Ian’s eyes next and found the man grinning. “We can make this a regular thing. I don’t mind seeing you both spoiled.” His tone, in fact, implied he could think of nothing more gratifying. There was a profound satisfaction in his eyes, as if pampering Loken and Danika was some great reward.

  “I’m so down,” Danika said, unabashed.

  Loken snorted, but he had to admit by the time they left that he felt refreshed. How long had it been since he’d been tended to so thoroughly? It was tempting to take Ian up on his offer, just to return to the comforts he was accustomed to, but that felt immoral. Using Ian for monetary benefits.

  “Thoughts on lunch?” Ian asked as they got into the car.

  The idea of eating made his jaw ache, so he strengthened the spell against pain and said, “Something new.”

  Ian grinned. “I can work with that.”

  They a
te little cuts of fish with rice and vegetables. Rather, he and Ian did. Danika got teriyaki chicken, announcing her aversion to sushi.

  “You do know that California rolls count as sushi, right?” Ian said to her when she stole one from their platter.

  “Shut up,” she said with a mouthful of sushi.

  As promised, they took him to a ‘rollerskating rink’ afterwards. It was clearly a place designed for children (though there were also adults), but Danika and Ian appeared unconcerned. Once they swapped their shoes for skates, Loken watched in amusement as Danika showed him how to get his skates on. Less amusing was learning to stand in them. His muscles weren’t quite at full strength, so his balance suffered.

  “If I can do this with one leg, you can do it,” Ian said.

  Scowling, Loken clung to the wall of the rink as Danika passed them by for the fifth time. “Whoever decided to put wheels on shoes will face my wrath,” he groused.

  “At this point, if he showed up, he’d get away,” Ian said with a laugh.

  Loken toppled over before he could retort, but he managed to drag Ian down with him. They sat on the ground for a moment, debating the merits of standing back up. Thankfully, after twenty more minutes, Danika took pity on them and said they could go.

  “Next time, we’ll go ice skating,” Danika said as they changed back into their shoes.

  “Hard pass for me,” Ian said. “Adding sharp blades to this would only make it worse.”

  “How odd,” Loken commented. “Sharp blades dramatically improve my opinion of any activity.”

  The look Danika gave him was fierce.

  Loken met her glare with indifference. “Too soon?” he asked with a partial sneer, unable to say why he was itching for confrontation.

  “Oh, you were talking about the bathroom incident?” Ian asked, playing dumb. “That’s disappointing. I thought you meant you were into knife play.”

  Danika snorted, Loken rolled his eyes, and the tension was shattered. Then, she pulled out her phone and searched for a place to get milkshakes. They walked at Loken’s insistence, browsing the window displays. Loken studied the foreign sky as he led the way, wondering if he'd ever grow accustomed to the view of such different constellations.

  “We should go to the planetarium after the holidays,” Danika said, likely noting his gaze. “It's not too far away. Two hours tops.”

  “I don't think Loken is going to be impressed with our minimal understanding of the universe.”

  “It’ll still be fun.”

  “Fun like a professor of mathematics doing basic addition?”

  Loken smiled as he listened to them banter, feeling oddly at home. Not in the city he’d now visited twice but with the man and woman who trailed him down the brightly lit street.

  How strange was it, he mused, that he would have to flee light-years from home, driven by despairing circumstances, to find such a thing. Was he, a beast on the run, even worthy of the fortune he’d found in these two?

  “‘A hunted man sometimes wearies of distrust and longs for friendship,’” he quoted as the passage came to him.

  “The Lord of the Rings,” Danika said, likely for Ian’s benefit.

  Ian made an impressed sound. “You memorized the whole thing?”

  “No. I just have an ear for quotes,” Loken replied.

  “Oh, yeah he does,” Danika agreed wholeheartedly.

  “Alright. Prove it, Princess. Give me one on love.”

  Loken thought on it, wondering which was best suited. “‘It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken,’” he said, switching to Shakespeare. “‘Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.’”

  “Be still my heart,” Ian said, breaking the silence that followed.

  “Mhm,” Danika agreed enthusiastically.

  Loken scoffed and, mildly uncomfortable with their praise, turned to face them. “I read much of Shakespeare’s works when I first arrived. I also read the New Testament, the Old Testament, the Tanakh, and the Quran.”

  “Damn,” Ian said. “Got to work assimilating real quick, huh?”

  Loken made a face. “Such an ugly word,” he mused. “Not to say there's anything wrong with those who integrate with the cultures they join.”

  Danika gave him a knowing look.

  “Yes,” he agreed, giving her a mildly exasperated look. “I may have a biased view born from personal experience.”

  “That's putting it mildly,” Ian said.

  Irritated, he snapped, “Can we go home now?” before realizing what he’d said.

  Relief flooded him when all Ian did was grin and say, “Yeah. We can.”

  Looking forward to being off of his feet, they walked back towards the car but didn't get far.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end before he registered the click of the gun or the cold steel pressed against his temple.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the silhouette of a man standing in the alley. At this range, with his magic still weakened, a gunshot to the head was likely to kill him—and what a pitiful end it would be. Slain by a nobody, off of the battlefield, after a lifetime of fighting.

  Then, he recognized the man. “Agent Colmenero,” he said casually, letting Ian and Danika know who it was. This was the man whose partner Loken had saved from Maganti.

  “Agent Locke,” Colmenero said, gun steady.

  “Get away from him!” Danika yelled.

  Thankfully, Ian had the foresight to put a hand on her shoulder to still her before she did something brash.

  Loken met her eyes, willing her to be calm. He’d rather face down the barrel of every gun in the city than let Danika face even one.

  “You heard the lady,” Ian said. “Kindly fuck off.”

  “Be quiet!” Colmenero snapped at them before focusing on Loken. “It wasn't smart of you to come out. You knew ALPHA was looking for you, and we're supposed to arrest you if we find you.”

  “Are you now?” Loken drawled, as if the entire affair bored him. “Shouldn't you frisk me first? I might have my daggers on me.”

  Colmenero looked disgusted. “Fag,” he growled. “No, you don't. ALPHA has ‘em.”

  Loken filed away the confirmation of where his daggers were. “I'm afraid your insult means nothing to me.”

  “Looks like we got a homophobe,” Ian remarked. “How classy. Please tell me religion is the reason you're an asshole. I love unoriginality.”

  “You're awfully talkative for someone whose boyfriend I have a gun to.”

  “I’ve been told knowing when to shut up isn't my strong suit,” Ian replied oh-so helpfully.

  Loken decided to regain control of the situation by redirecting the agent’s attention. “Tell me, how is Agent Arndt?”

  Colmenero was silent for a moment. “You're disgusting, dangerous, and inhuman,” he said. Then, he lowered his gun. “But I haven't forgotten what you did. I don't care why you did it, but he's alive because of you. Now, fuck off. Stop making yourself an easy target.”

  He turned to go, and as he did, Loken contemplated killing him. It would be easy (and hiding the evidence would be easier), but he let Colmenero walk away.

  “We should go home,” Loken said without averting his gaze, knowing this was a onetime reprieve. Milkshakes weren’t worth the risk. Colmenero would not hesitate to try to apprehend him next time.

  Try being the key word.

  Ian came to his side, staring down the alley until Colmenero faded from view. Neither of them let Danika near it, which first earned them a lecture on how she didn't need protecting and then her angry silence for the trip back.

  When they got home, as expected, they didn't even give him the option of retiring to his room alone. They followed, and Danika didn't hesitate to flop down on the bed. Ian joined them a few minutes later, having made a detour. As soon as he en
tered the room, Loken could see why; he'd gone to retrieve a bottle of scotch and three glasses.

  “Ew. No. I don't wanna drink that,” Danika said. “I'm a lightweight. One sip, and I'll be gone.”

  Ian grinned. “Aw, now I wanna see that. Okay. Fine. Go get one of those alcoholic root beers you keep stashed in your minifridge. I'll wait. No. Grab however many you need to get drunk. The goal is to get trashed.”

  “Absolutely not! If we're getting trashed, we need to make festive drinks! It’s the law of Christmas.”

  “If we make weak mixed drinks, the chances of Loken joining us in Trashedville is low.”

  When Danika turned to scrutinize him, Loken shrugged because it was true. Earthen alcohol seemed to have little effect on him, so if their goal was to become intoxicated, he'd have a difficult time joining them. Then again, still recovering as he was, maybe it would be easier.

  Danika rolled to her feet, retrieved a beer from the other room, and sprawled back out onto the bed. “Let’s play a drinking game,” she proclaimed. “Never have I ever.” For Loken’s benefit, she said, “Basically, we take turns proclaiming things we’ve never done. If someone has done the thing, they have to take a swig. Got it? I’ll go first.”

  Loken saw no reason to protest and apparently neither did Ian.

  “Never have I ever had a threesome.”

  Ian grinned wolfishly. “Is that an invitation?” he asked before taking a sip of his drink.

  They both looked to Loken who shrugged and drank.

  “Oh. My. God!” Danika replied. “I’m surrounded by debauchery!”

  “You love it,” Ian replied with conviction.

  “Please tell me three is the limit.”

  Ian laughed and didn’t answer. “Never have I ever...been a woman.”

  Danika and Loken drank, though she glared at Ian.

  “Never have I ever—” Loken smirked and looked pointedly at Danika. “—screamed during a scary movie.”

  “This is targeting!” she pouted and took another swig. “Besides, that was a special circumstance. You know The Ring creeps me out!”