The Monster Ball Year 2

by Heather Hildenbrand

  "Then hand it over," you say.

  With great reluctance, and almost physical pain by the looks of it, he finally hands you the vial. You smile brightly at him, and suddenly his demeanor changes. He blushes, fidgets with his hat, glances at his shoes.

  "Best of luck to ya, lass," he says, and then he's gone in a puff of smoke.

  You stand and hold out the vial triumphantly. "Our luck."

  "Wow. That was quite… something," I say, as you take my arm, and we walk back to the privacy cubes. "You certainly have friends in all manner of corners."

  "Like I said, you need to get out more." You kiss my cheek, and the suddenness of it takes me by surprise. Your lips are so soft, and it's not my cheek I want to feel them on.

  "Down boy," you say, apparently sensing my arousal. "There's time for that later."

  "Is there now?" I ask.

  You stop and turn to me, pressing your body close to mine as people swarm around us. "I think," you say, pressing your lips against mine briefly before pulling away, "we might find a moment or two," again, you pause, kissing my earlobe this time, "to explore things between us," your mouth trails to my neck, "once we've completed our business."

  My fingers dig into your waist, and I have to hold myself back from acting on the impulses your teasing has brought out.

  You pull away, winking with evil cunning. "Shall we then?"

  I take your hand and let you lead me back to the cubes.

  To all of the other people satisfying their desires.

  While we stand outside and wait.

  You take the green vial and down it in one gulp. "Now we wait," you say.

  "For what?" I ask.

  "For luck to work its magic."

  "This is highly unorthodox and not the way I normally work," I say, standing impatiently, not sure what kind of magic I'm waiting for.

  You shrug, nonplussed. "You need to expand your horizons. The universe works in mysterious ways. If you try to control it, it will wrench that control from you and land you on your ass. But if you dance with it, it will guide you to the heights of pleasure and success."

  "I see. And your heights have you living in a rundown apartment and stealing from low level demons?"

  You turn and scowl at me. "It's a temporary setback brought on after the death of my mother. I will change it."

  "I'm sorry," I say, feeling like a prick. "I didn't know." Though I should have. How did I miss this?

  "Her killer is dead. She died because of this pendant," you say, touching your chest where it lays hidden beneath your dress. "And he died because of this pendant." Your face darkens as unwanted memories resurface. "But it was too late. The pendant was already gone, and I couldn't track it down. Until… "

  "Let me guess," I say, the pieces clicking together. "Until a mysterious stranger approached you with the name of the person who had it. But only for a price."

  You look at me and nod. "It seems I've been played. That doesn't happen often."

  "We were both played," I say. "And so was Bart. He was a victim in this."

  You frown. "I feel bad, for what we've done to him."

  I put an arm over your shoulders and pull you against me. "I think he'll be alright. He's an okay bloke."

  Our conversation is interrupted by a commotion near the privacy cubes. One of them seems to have exploded or something, creating all manner of chaos.

  "Did your vial of leprechaun magic do this?" I ask, shocked.

  "That's not exactly how it works," you say. "It didn't cause this. It's just lining up events to be fortuitous for us. Watch."

  Sure enough, Delores and a woman—unmaimed by the looks of it—emerge in a fluster from the cube next to the one that shattered. Delores looks as if she's trying to keep the woman from leaving, but the woman is clearly done and stalks away, heading downstairs, likely to the nearest bar. Can't say that I blame her.

  Delores sighs and straightens her white gown, replacing the veil over her face, then moves through the gawking crowd, looking for her next victim.

  You squeeze my hand. "I'm up."

  I don't let go just yet. "Be careful. And don't let her get you alone."

  You roll your eyes. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

  I have no choice, do I? Not if I want to save my coven.

  I release your hand and watch you walk away. You approach Delores from behind, touching the sleeve of her dress, and as you do, you shift into the woman Delores most wants tonight. A tall, leggy, blonde with generous curves and a red dress.

  I stay out of the way. The last thing you need is the vicious vampire catching sight of me, but my nerves are frayed. You have, inexplicably, carved a place into my undead heart. I care for you more than I want, and I find myself willing to sacrifice quite a lot to see you safely returned to me.

  Would I sacrifice my coven?

  I don't want to have to answer that question.

  I'm hoping I won't have to because I might not like who I have become if I do.

  The two of you begin to dance, the siren's song seducing the crowd into languid movements full of melancholy and lust around you.

  I can't take my eyes off you. The way you move, the way you smile. Even in your disguise, I see the real you. The true you. And I want you back.

  I'm about to intervene, to call the whole thing off, when to my astonishment, I see Delores take a ring off her finger and hand it to you. You smile, kiss her on the lips, and walk away, leaving the ancient vampire in a lustful stupor. She wanders off to sit in a corner and just watches the rest of the crowd while you saunter over to me, holding the ring triumphantly.

  "You're welcome," you say, placing it in my hand.

  I slip the ring onto my finger and feel the power of the coven pouring into me. Instantly, we are stronger. We are connected. We are protected.

  I pull you into my arms, our bodies swaying to the music now. "How did you do that?"

  "I told you I know what I'm doing. This is who I am," you say, and your smile turns sad.

  "What?" I ask.

  "It's just, this is who I am." You look up, your eyes glossy. "This is who I will always be. Don't you see? Whatever this is between us, I can't ever be just yours. I will always have to feed. To prey on others. To take other lovers."

  I hold you closer and press my lips against your ear. "Darling, I'm not looking to own you. I just want to be with you. Just as you are. We are both monsters. But even monsters deserve love, don't they?"

  You look up and smile, and it's luminous and haunting. "Come with me, vampire. I think it's time we both get what we deserve."

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you sure it's not just my allure," you say, pulling away gently. "Tricking you into thinking you want me."

  We have found our own privacy cube, and we are finally alone. Finally, together. Finally, able to explore what has been building between us for so long. Even before you realized it.

  I hold up my hand to show you my ring. "I've been wearing this for months," I say. "It's bespelled against any powers of succubi. I took it off once tonight, and I felt the full pull of your power. But what I feel right now isn't your magic. It's you."

  You look up through your long lashes and take a hesitant step forward. "Ever since I came into my power, I have never trusted what others have felt for me. I have felt my whole life like I'm wearing a mask and dancing in someone else's dream. Until now."

  Your palm rests against my chest, and I cover your hand with my own. "I see you, Sabine," I say. "I have seen you for some time now. And I think I have also been falling for you for some time now. The way you care for others when you think no one is looking. Dropping change into a homeless person's cup. Helping a child who is lost. Using your powers to retrieve a stolen purse for an old woman. I see you. The kindness in your heart. The goodness in your soul."

  You shake your head, your eyes glossy with emotion. "I have darkness too. Vengeance. Anger. Selfishness. I don't do kind things because I am good; I do them to bal
ance the scales against my own shortfalls."

  I chuckle at that. "What do you think goodness is? Perfection? It doesn't exist." I kiss your forehead, letting my lips linger against your warm skin. "Goodness is nothing more than our small attempts at… balancing the scales, as you say. If you didn't have goodness in you, you wouldn't care about those scales at all, don't you see? Your very act of caring is what makes you good."

  You sigh and lean into me, shifting your arm around me and resting your head on my chest. "I haven't felt seen since my mother died."

  I pull you closer to me, running one hand over your silky hair while the other tightens around your waist. "You do not have to be invisible any longer," I whisper, my chin resting on your head.

  "Do you really want me?" you ask. "All of me?"

  "All of you," I say. "As much as you're willing to give."

  "I cannot be with someone without feeding," you say, pulling away to look into my eyes. "I never concerned myself with it before, but… "

  "Then let us feed each other and be satiated mutually by one another," I suggest, cupping your face. "With consent. Without allure or compulsion. Without deals or bargains or debts owed getting in the way. Just us. Choosing each other."

  Your lips curl into a smile, lighting your eyes from within. "I'd like that," you say. "I'd like that very much."

  Our kiss begins softly, gently. Not for show or distraction but for exploration and surrender. For discovery and all of the sensory experiences available to us. Your taste, sweet and smoky. The feel of your lips and your tongue, soft and wet. Your teeth tugging at my lower lip. Your fingers digging into my back through my suit.

  "We have too many clothes between us," I say, my voice husky with desire.

  You nod and tug at my jacket, sliding it off of me. Then you slowly unbutton my shirt, letting your nails trail against my chest as you do. You bite your lip, smiling seductively, and I know I'm seeing you and not your succubus powers.

  You have let me in just as I have let you in. To the darkest—and lightest—chambers of our hearts, we know each other now.

  Once I am left with only my trousers, I begin the meticulous process of figuring out how to remove your complicated dress. You laugh as I struggle with the smoky wisps of magic that float about you, binding you into the infernal thing.

  "Let me help," you say, and with a flick of your wrist, the black fabric falls to the ground in a pool around your feet. You wear nothing beneath, and I inhale sharply at your beauty. At the curve of your breasts and the tapering of your waist. At the moonlight perfection of your smooth warm skin.

  "You're magical," I say, as you tug at the belt around my waist and free me from my clothing as well.

  We stand before each other naked, bathing in the purple light of the privacy cube, content to take this slow, to savor every moment, every touch, every delight.

  "I want to taste you," I say, as you lay on the bed and spread yourself. "Every part of you."

  "Then taste me," you say.

  I grab your dress from the floor and tear three strips of black cloth from the ends. You don't argue as I use the scraps to tie your arms to the bed and blindfold you.

  "I want you at my mercy," I say as I spread your legs. "I want you to just feel. Be. Enjoy. My little seductress, tonight, you will be the one seduced."

  Using my fingers at first, lightly touching the most sensitive spots on your body, gliding my fingers over you, following that with my mouth, with soft kisses and flicks of my tongue. With a feather from your now tattered dress, I tickle and tease, enticing you to greater pleasure. I move from your feet up your legs, teasing, seducing, taunting you with promises of pleasure unleashed. You writhe under me, your breath increasing, your body responding to my exploration.

  You have spent your life seducing your prey to feed, never really feeling the pleasure of being seduced yourself. Tonight, I will give you everything I am. Everything I can give.

  When you are close to losing yourself in the pleasure of an orgasm, I pull away, moving up your body, making you wait for it. Dangling that release as a future gift.

  You moan, biting your lip, as I explore your breasts, as I kiss your neck, letting my tongue trace the pulsing beat of your heart beneath your skin, letting my teeth gently graze at that perfect skin, mixing pleasure with the slightest threat of pain.

  Your body arches against mine, the coldness of my skin a sharp contrast to the heat of yours. My teeth sharpen, elongating, brushing against your vein, gently at first, then with more pressure.

  Your legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, pressing me against your eager body. I know neither of us can wait much longer.

  As I press my teeth into your flesh, my body follows suit, and then I am in you. You surround me. We are one as your blood drips down my throat and your body grips mine. Your taste hits my tongue, and I am alive with the power of your blood, the sweetness of it filling me with something I have never felt before.

  I free your hands, removing your blindfold so we can complete this union together.

  It is a night of ecstasy. A night of complete and total bliss. We feed on each other. We consume each other, and we are remade by one another, as powerful as any vampire turning has ever been. There is no position we don't satiate each other in. No indulgence we don't demand of our bodies. And as the music filters into our love nest—a haunting song with a deep bass beat that matches the tempos of our hearts—we finally pull ourselves apart and dress, gazes still locked on each other.

  We are silent, introspective as we walk hand in hand back to the ballroom.

  In the background, the lead singer is saying goodbye. "We hope you've all found love even if only for a little while… "

  I glance down at you, and you smile as you reach up to kiss me. We have found something tonight. Is it love? Time will tell. But it is something worth holding onto, I think.

  We make our way to the rooftop as fireworks begin to light up the night sky. It is a wonder of magic and technology, creating flying dragons and whimsical scenes of color against the backdrop of a diamond studded tapestry.

  Looking around, I see couples everywhere. Or in Garsh's case, a threesome with his two tiny pixies hanging onto him lovingly. There are so many stories crowding around us—of love and lust and delight and sorrows.

  I catch the eye of Bart, who is holding hands with a man a few inches taller than him, decently built with a kind smile. It's not the man I interrupted him with, but he looks happy, and he smiles at me with a brief head nod in acknowledgement. It might be just one night. It might be more. Either way, he seems to have found his confidence.

  I pull you into my arms, and we watch the lights dance in the sky, which become mesmerizing and begin to shift and change until suddenly, you and I are standing outside my mansion, only the moon and stars looking down on us now.

  I gaze down at you, brushing a fallen lock of hair out of your eyes. "What do we do now?" I ask.

  You shrug then take my hand and lead me towards my front door, smiling.

  That's answer enough for me.

  The End

  Turn the page for more Monster Ball…

  Lost Imprint

  By

  G. Bailey

  Chapter One

  “Raine, I need your help!” my sister pleads after sticking her head around the door of the room I’m currently hiding in. I lift my head from my magazine and shake it at her. I’d rather carry on reading about the love life of an angel who is dating a dragon shifter who got her sister pregnant.

  “There is not one chance in hell I’m helping you with crazy pants out there,” I tell her, and she drops her bottom lip and starts her puppy dog expression she uses to get her way—big pleading eyes and everything.

  “Please,” she asks, smiling sweetly at me for added effect.

  “They don’t like any humans that aren’t you, Ivory,” I mutter, placing my magazine down and sliding off the desk I was sitting on. “That’s why I was hiding in your of
fice.”

  “I know the witches can be—”

  “Total bitchy snobs to anyone who isn’t a supe or amazing at making what they want, like you are?” I ask, using the term everyone does for the supernatural race. Until fifty years ago, there were nothing but humans on the planet. Or at least that’s what we thought. The supernaturals have always been here, I suspect, hiding, waiting for the right moment to let us humans know about them. Now? It’s cool to be a supernatural, and humans are frowned upon. Even shifters that turn into bugs are cooler than I am in this place.

  I live in one of the many supernatural communities. Normally, the supernaturals don’t like to live around humans—unless humans can do something for them—like Ivory. She has a natural talent for making dresses from scratch and now owns a shop on the edge of the biggest supe community in the world.

  Rivera City.

  “They won’t say anything to you,” Ivory says, coming over to me and placing her hands on my upper arms. “Not if they want their dresses to be the best at the ball.”

  She means The Monster Ball, an exclusive event that everyone wants to go to. It’s weird because no one actually speaks about what goes on at the ball, but for some reason, they all have the best time of their lives. Nor does anyone know where the ball is every year, or where the invites come from. They just appear, floating on moonlight into the person’s hand who is invited.

  “Have they even been invited?” I whisper, and Ivory smiles as she shakes her head, her black hair swaying around her. She twirls two parts of it up, clipping them back and pushing her hair out of the way to show off her bright, blue eyes.

  “Nope, but they have their dresses ready just in case an invite magically comes to them,” she explains to me and holds a hand out. “Please? I just need someone to hold some pins for me for the adjustments.”

  “Fine,” I mumble, knowing Ivory wouldn’t ask unless she didn’t have any choice. Ivory grins and pulls me into a tight hug before letting go and walking out. I reluctantly follow her into the front of the shop where a witch is standing on a platform in a stunning black dress. It looks like a swan is wrapped around her body, twisting until the head of the swan is resting on her shoulder. Layers and layers of glittery silk wrap around the bottom of the dress, and it just shows how amazing Ivory is at designing and making these dresses. When I pull my eyes from the dress to the woman wearing it, I find a snooty face glaring at me.