Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  I couldn’t move. My body refused to budge if it meant leaving him. What in the bloody hell was going on with me? He was nobody. Just some wanker who needed to pay for the sins of his ancestors. His whole family deserved to be wiped out after what they did to ours, but we would settle for him.

  Why? I asked myself. Why him? Why now? Why not before? I learned a long time ago to not question my mother and do as she instructed. If I followed orders, life at home was fine, but the switch could be flipped. Kelly Brandt disliked relinquishing control; it was a wonder she sent me here to handle Max instead of coming herself. But what she hated even more so was anyone questioning her or her motives. Pat said the magic she was born with and power that came with it had gone to her head, turned black with the hate and need for revenge. It wasn’t like some in positions of power who used their authority to do whatever the hell they wanted. For my mother, it had literally gone to her head and knocked a few screws loose. Virginia’s cruel streak matched Mother’s. Unfortunately for her, her gifts were limited. Therefore, Kelly remained in charge even though she’d been born second.

  Through the years, my questions went unasked and unanswered until they were almost forgotten. Being in the same room with Max brought them all back. But it wasn’t only my insecurities and doubts, I also heard Pat’s voice asking, “What then?”

  Max’s speech over, we moved to the table we were assigned to, and before we could say anything, his head jerked up, and he looked directly at me. I couldn’t form any words or do anything. What kind of power did this man have? That had to be it. What else could it be? He either cast a spell over me or…I didn’t want to think about the “or.”

  While we chatted, his voice wrapped around me, bathing me in warmth. It wasn’t as deep as my bass voice, but it was silky smooth, and I wished he would continue to talk even after everything got awkward.

  Standing, he wobbled, and I sucked in a breath, jumping to catch him. I couldn’t allow him to fall. I hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t stopped to think or consider the consequences, moving strictly on instinct.

  “I think I got up too fast. I’ll be fine,” Max spoke the words while his fingers had a white knuckle grip on the table.

  “Are you certain?” I only meant to show my concern, yet the way his body vibrated had my dick hard. What would it be like if we were away from people and alone? No! He was the enemy. Maybe if things were different, if our families’ pasts didn’t dictate our future. Why could I convince my head of that, but nothing else?

  “Positive. Thank you,” Max said, stepping away from me toward the other man. I thought his name was Fizz, and I wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but I was jealous. Me! I shouldn’t be. This was nothing more than a job, I reminded myself for the hundredth time.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” his voice echoed through the PA system, and I blinked. When had he returned to the podium? I sank into my chair and tried to regain some of the control I’d lost. He continued, “I hope you enjoyed your dinner. Before we get to the dancing portion of the evening, get your pocketbooks ready because it’s auction time. I will be your friendly neighborhood auctioneer, Maximillian Lux. For those of you who weren’t in attendance last year, I’m sorry. For those of you who were, you knew what you were getting yourself into.” The sounds of laughter flittered through the crowd.

  A brunette woman wearing a bright green ball gown walked out like she was holding one of those Academy Awards instead of what looked to be a bust of someone. She set it on a tall display table and showed it off using her hands, reminding me of one of those girls on any of the gameshows my father enjoyed watching.

  “First up, we have a sculpture by Erik Durant. Bidding begins at two hundred.”

  Immediately, people in the audience went wild, and I quickly found out why Max apologized. He sucked. Unlike the auctioneers, who usually spoke so fast no one could understand him, his words came out in a slow and even tone, and he had a hard time keeping up with the bids.

  “Thirteen hundred dollars going once, going twice,” he paused, “SOLD!”

  They auctioned off anything from art to dinners made by some famous chef, to a day spent with someone famous. They were raising a lot of money for their charity, some items going for as high as twenty thousand, but the only thing that had caught my attention was Max.

  “Our next item is a first edition copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, Volume One in excellent condition. Bidding will start at five hundred.” I saw a small grimace, quickly masked by a broader smile. Did he know what his family did and regretted it?

  “Twenty-five thousand,” I called out, my eyes widening, unable to believe what I just said. The book wasn’t typically worth that much, and most of the time, people thought they were a first edition even if they weren’t. Still, old copies could catch a fair price, but nothing like what I blurted out. I had the money, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket of my secret bank account, yet I couldn’t believe I’d bid on something, which had fed the fires of pain for my family, was nothing more than a reminder of what his family had done to mine. Maybe that was why. I needed a reminder of my purpose.

  “We have twenty-five thousand. Anyone else?”

  Others bid, but I refused to be outbid. In the end, I paid thirty thousand for a book probably not worth more than three or four thousand at best.

  “Lorde,” my aunt gasped as soon as Max announced I had won. “Can you—”

  “Aunt Pat, I have a very profitable job and travel all over the world for my expertise. Mother doesn’t know everything,” I told her in a low tone, believing I could trust her with my secret.

  “Good for you!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly.

  “Our final auction item tonight is…are you ready for it?” Maxed asked, and people leaned forward, anticipating his words, holding their breath. “Me,” he smirked. The crowd roared.

  Had I heard him correctly? Him? He was auctioning himself off? Why was I jealous again? This simply proved to me that he was not someone I should fixate on for anything except my mother’s agenda.

  “Max has done this for the past three years, and it raises a lot of money for the charity,” his mother told me for some odd reason.

  “Are you saying he pimps himself out to the highest bidder like some kind of street whore?” My words were cruel, but I wanted to lash out and wound.

  “Lorde, stop it,” Aunt Pat hissed in my ear. After I’d won the book, they both shifted so my aunt sat on my left and his mother appeared on my right.

  “I apologize,” I said, without meaning it.

  The smile on his mother’s face and the twinkle in her eye terrified me. She patted my arm. “No, but it does raise a lot of money. The date is always public, where the cameras can follow, always includes reading at a local library, and ends before it gets dark out. Usually, women with daughters or sons will bid. When they win, they send their kid on the date with the hope Max will fall madly in love with them. Last year, the winner won the date for her grandson.” She began laughing and listing to the side. I caught her, afraid she would fall off her chair.

  “Are you all right?” I questioned. Was there something in the air? Max had issues earlier.

  People were throwing out bids left and right, there was no stop to them, and they weren’t slowing down.

  “She’s fine,” Max’s father, Christoph, said, smiling at his wife. “Last year, the winner won the date for her grandson, thinking he and Max would be perfect for each other, but there was a fly in the ointment.”

  “Pardon?”

  “The grandson isn’t gay. Okay, there were actually three issues. The grandson isn’t gay, Max wasn’t interested in him, and the kid was sixteen.” Christoph’s explanation made his wife howl even harder, and my jaw dropped open.

  “Sixteen? Bloody hell.” I sat there in shock, which was the only way I could explain what happened next.

  “Eighty thousand,” someone yelled. The bidding was climbing higher
and higher.

  “One hundred and fifty thousand,” I placed my bid, and there was a sea of whispers coming through to crowd toward me. They were all stunned.

  Max’s mother, Willow, squeaked, “Oh my gosh! That’s higher than last year’s winner by about sixty thousand.” Her hands were covering her mouth as she bounced in her seat.

  “Lorde, maybe you should—” My aunt’s heart was in the right place, but I knew what I was doing.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I whispered in her ear. I would win and use this to get closer to him. It certainly wasn’t because I was jealous or because I didn’t want to think about him going out with anyone else. He didn’t belong to me yet.

  Pat stared at me questions in her eyes, and she was chewing on her lip, a sure sign she was concerned. “Lorde, what are you doing?”

  “What I need to do,” I stated with confidence. The sooner I could finish my job, the sooner I could return home, and the sooner the spell Max cast over me would vanish.

  Oddly enough, no one else bid on Max. I won. “How do I pay?” I asked Christoph.

  “You can do an electronic transfer.” He was grinning from ear to ear. If only he knew what was about to happen to his family.

  “Thank you.” I shifted my gaze to my aunt. “Are you ready to go? You look a bit tired.”

  “I am, yes.” Her voice sounded strained.

  “Will you give our apologies to Max? It appears he is otherwise occupied.” I assisted my aunt to her feet, and together, we left the planetarium and Max behind.

  Chapter 10

  Max

  By the time I made it back to the table, Lorde and Pat had left, leaving my parents to pass on their goodbyes. I tried to go after him, just like the prince in Cinderella, but he’d disappeared. And I would not admit it out loud, but I did search the ground, looking for anything he might have left. This was not Cinderella, however, and I found no glass slipper, shoe, or anything of the sort.

  I trudged back inside, wishing I could leave as well, knowing that was impossible. This was my event, and we still had hours to go before the clock struck one, and I could return to my castle in the sky.

  Now that Lorde had gone, my swan was once again begging to be set free. The only good thing about the need to shift this time, the desperation from earlier was gone.

  “You okay?” my father asked as soon as he spotted my return.

  I frowned and smiled at the same time, blowing aside his concerns. “Yeah, perfectly okay. I wanted to see if I could catch Lorde and Mrs. Jeffries to thank them for coming tonight, and to thank him for his donation. He surprised me when he started bidding.”

  “Surprised us, too.” Dad chuckled. “Buck up. It isn’t like this will be the last time you see him. He did win a date with you.”

  Buck up? I couldn’t recall the last time my father said something like that to me. “You’re right.” I lifted my hand to my chest and rubbed, the swan getting more insistent about breaking free, and I pleaded with it to settle down for a few more hours.

  “Something wrong?” His gaze was on my hand.

  Dropping it back to my side, I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  “Max, any time you need to talk about anything that has to do with…things, you can discuss them with me. I mean anything. I realize you haven’t had—” He stopped abruptly when some of our guests came over to join us momentarily.

  By the time they were done gushing about the success of tonight’s fundraiser and the mysterious stranger who bid on the last two items, the crowd around us had grown. Many wanted to know the identity of the man dressed in black, and I had to stop myself from singing Johnny Cash. Sometimes, I was a sarcastic asshole.

  Surprisingly, my dad didn’t give Lorde away, and neither did my mother. The guests had to have known he was sitting at our table when he bid; it didn’t take a genius to put it together from there. When my parents said they didn’t know who the stranger was, the people surrounding them accepted their words as fact. That did not mean Lorde wasn’t the topic of many conversations. Every person I danced with chose to discuss Lorde. Every. Freaking. Person. Man or woman, it didn’t matter. He was their new juicy morsel of gossip, and like a dog with a bone, they would not let it go. And here I was back on the subject of those damn mongrels.

  One o’clock arrived, the last dance played, and I left, sighing with happiness the moment my ass hit the plush leather seat in the limo with Fizz next to me. “Next year, I think a luncheon might work better than an evening gala.”

  “You said that last year, and still wound up doing what you normally do,” he reminded me. His head rested on the back of the seat, and his eyes were closed. He was a good-looking man with brown hair, peppered silver here and there. He was clean-shaven with muscles which made him look more bear than man. His sharp brown eyes could spot a lie at twenty paces, which was something I used to tell him whenever he busted me in a lie. Nothing slipped past him.

  When I was younger, I might have had a small crush on Fizz when he gave me a martial arts lesson. The way his body pressed against mine, the strength of his muscles. How could a guy not fall for someone like that? Within a week, I came to my senses. He could cook, fight, shoot, and probably kill a person with one hand, but he wasn’t the guy for me. He was an asshole of the first degree, and he loved to yell at me when I did something wrong during our training session. More than that were his life choices. So sad. His choice of reading material: nonfiction. The book world had so much more to offer than biographies and history books. His favorite food: chicken and rice. Bleh! There were a million tastier things on this planet.

  The man was also locked up tighter than a bank vault. I had no clue who his ideal partner was. Not even an inkling. Fizz refused to share anything unless it was absolutely necessary, and his preferences for men did not fall into that category. The one time I got him drunk and tried to interrogate him, he only gave me his name and some string of numbers along with his rank, nothing juicy or worth the trouble.

  Is Lorde willing to share? Is he worth the trouble? I wondered as I stared out the window, watching the landscape speed by. Lorde was dangerous, and if I knew what was good for me, I should stay away from him.

  Reaching my building, I took the elevator to my floor, leaving Fizz to deal with anything else. I began to strip the moment I entered my apartment, dropping my garments along the way to the balcony. Fizz could clean up, or I would when I returned. The cry to break free was too loud and would not be silenced, I couldn’t wait any longer to shift.

  I stepped onto the cold stone, breathing deeply, and quickly moved onto the balcony wall. Here I could transform and jump without worrying about a running head start. Much like a plane, a swan could not just lift off. Stretching my arms out wide, I allowed the shift to overtake me. It tingled and made me feel peculiar for a brief moment. It wasn’t like some of those books I read where bones cracked and elongated or changed, mine was different. I felt something, but it was more like the small zap one felt whenever they touched those electric balls. I didn’t need the moon or anything special. I simply let the swan take over and transform me. Fizz saw it a couple of times. He said I shimmered, one minute I was a man, and the next, a swan.

  I flapped my wings and stepped off the ledge. It was time to fly.

  Chapter 11

  Lorde

  The moment we were in the car and on our way back to my aunt’s house, I expected her to demand answers, but she didn’t. She was quiet, almost too quiet.

  “Aunt Pat?”

  She responded with a quick shake of her head, her lips tightly pressed together. I thought I could trust her with one of my secrets, had I been wrong? Was she planning to tell my mother everything I’d done tonight? Bugger! This was not good.

  It wasn’t until we were home and I had my foot on the bottom step of the staircase that she spoke to me again, “I’m sure you have your reasons for bidding on the book and Max, but do you really know what you’re doing?”

  My bac
k faced her, and I had not moved from the staircase. “I do,” I said with ease, my determination and will speaking for me.

  “Lorde—”

  “Thank you for a lovely evening, Aunt Pat. I’ll see you in the morning.” In an instant, my façade cracked.

  “Lorde!” she called after me as I ran up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

  My body slumped against the thick wood, drawing in ragged breath after ragged breath. I was struggling, the panic inside me rising like the tide and threatening to drown me. Max did this to me. If he was a normal man from an average family, I could easily find myself falling for him, but he wasn’t. For a split second, I allowed myself to think about what it would be like to have some sort of future with him. Yes, I’d gone past dating and thought about a future, a future I wasn’t allowed to have, and then the book had come up for auction. The bloody book I left behind in my haste to leave had served as a gentle reminder that nothing could exist for us.

  That saying, it’s not you, it’s me, certainly applied to this situation. In our case, it was actually, it’s not you, it’s our ancestors. I came here intending to do everything expected of me, then return home, and while I had doubts, especially about myself, I had decided not to veer from the path set before me when I was a child. Meeting him could not change that.

  “Lorde?” Pat knocked on the door, and the vibrations thrummed against my back.

  “Yes?” I steeled myself against what she had to say. For whatever reason, she’d been trying to get me to pull out and forget about my whole purpose for life.

  “Open the door.”

  “I’m a bit tired. I’m going to bed.”

  I heard the handle jiggle and turn. Tilting my head back, I quickly realized I’d forgotten to lock the door, but with my body plastered in front of it, I doubted she could open it. I was wrong.