“I have been to your kingdom,” Tad said finally.
“So, you are a bounty hunter?” she pressed. “Like Mat?”
Tad seemed to choose his words carefully before replying. “In the past, I did collect a bounty or two,” he said. “These days, my business interests have me far away from that type of work.” With one eyebrow cocked, he held up a hand to pause any further questions. “Nope, it’s your turn. Who is Mat?”
Sarah took a big gulp of her drink. “The vampire bounty hunter that is apparently trying to kidnap me. Something about a prince who needs a bride?”
Anger burned bright in Tad’s smoldering gaze. An instant later, the drink glass shattered in his hand. A mix of electric blue liquid and dark crimson blood cascaded over his pale hand. Sarah grabbed the blanket the waitress had brought and pressed it to Tad’s hand.
“I wasn’t aware you cared,” he teased, gently pulling free from her grip. Holding up one palm, he tilted it toward the light for Sarah’s inspection. “Already healed.”
“Oh, right. Vampire.” She gave a small laugh. “I forgot.”
“Tell me more about this kidnapping,” Tad pressed her.
“Oh, um, I’m fine now. Really. Guess that’s what I get for sneaking out behind my guards’ backs, huh?” She’d meant it as a way to lighten the mood, but it seemed the vampire wasn’t in a teasing mood.
“This vampire sought to abduct you,” Tad said, his voice gravelly. “The blame is his alone.”
“No, I know,” Sarah assured Tad, surprised to find herself patting his arm. “I was kidding. Bad joke. Can we start over?”
“Point him out.”
Against her better judgment, Sarah scanned the rooftop until she found Mat talking to the pastel-haired bartender. She pointed in his direction.
“Oh. Him.” Tad wrinkled his nose as though he smelled something foul. “Yes, he’s a disgrace to our kind.” The smile he gave Sarah was genuine. “He won’t be bothering you again tonight, Princess.”
The way he said it gave Sarah chills. Something about his tone also made her believe him. Tad, like all vampires, had a dangerous, dark energy. Unlike the other vampires she’d met, there was still a brightness in Tad’s, a humanity that had survived the transition. He cared about more than just power, which was second only to blood for most vamps.
“So, you do know him?” Sarah pressed.
Mat’s gaze passed over the roof. When he paused for a beat on Sarah and Tad, the princess’ pulse sped up. But she wasn’t the object of his interest. Tad was. They definitely knew each other, she decided.
“I know of him, yes,” Tad admitted with a frown. His gaze softened when he looked down at Sarah. “And he is not worth your breath or mine. Don’t waste another thought on the matter.”
“Easier said than done,” Sarah replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Mat talking to the bartender with the rainbow hair.
“You can’t leave until the party ends,” Tad informed.
She groaned. “Yeah, I learned that the hard way.”
“Have you met our host for the evening?” Tad continued as though the Mat issue was officially settled.
Sarah shook her head. “Have you?”
“No,” the vampire admitted. “She’s very mysterious. The Proprietor is what they call her.”
“Who is she?” The princess sipped her drink and relaxed slightly. She couldn’t so easily dismiss Mat’s kidnapping attempt, though the disguise and the alcohol were helping. And Tad. Most vampires were unsettling, dangerous even. Tad was different. His presence gave Sarah a sense of security.
“No one knows. A centaur told me she’s a very old vampire cursed to age visibly but never die. At a nightclub in Prague, there’s a bartender who swears The Proprietor is an ancient goddess damned to walk the earthly realm as punishment.”
“Punishment for what?” Sarah asked curiously, leaning a little closer to Tad.
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” A mischievous smile spread across his face. “Would you like to hear the craziest theory I’ve heard?”
The princess nodded eagerly. “Please.”
Tad lowered his voice and looked around as though afraid of being overhead. “She’s human.”
“Human?” That was definitely crazy, Sarah decided. “Why would a human throw The Monster Ball? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Supposedly as tribute to her parents, a witch and a dragon shifter.”
Sarah considered that explanation. “No. That’s not right. I think she’s a…a succubus that feeds on the magical energy of other creatures, so she throws this party once a year to stock up for the other three hundred and sixty-four days.”
Tad chuckled softly. “Have you ever met a succubus?”
The princess narrowed her eyes. “Well, no. They aren’t real. I thought we were making up stories. Why? Who do you think she is?”
He considered her question for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t an answer but another question that fell from his sensual lips. “Why did you come tonight?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah stammered. “I guess I just needed to get away. I wanted to stop being me for a little while. Does that make sense?”
He nodded. “More than you will ever know. I don’t know who The Proprietor is, but I think she throws the party to break down barriers between all of us monsters.” Tad stood and offered her his hand. “How’s the ankle?”
Sarah rolled it around, drawing several small sharp jabs of pain. “Better.”
“Good. Let’s go be other people.”
Hand in hand, Tad led Sarah to the rooftop dance floor. She’d consumed enough alcohol to lower her inhibitions though her judgment was still clear as day. Sarah danced alongside the vampire with abandon. She wanted to. And she could. Tad didn’t care that she was a beat behind the music. If anything, he seemed to find it endearing. He twirled Sarah beneath his long arm and dipped her so low that her hair brushed the ground.
At one point, she saw Mat with Tiffany, the water fae he’d been talking to when Sarah first met him earlier. Sarah didn’t know where Andres had gone, but Tiff trailed behind Mat with a dazzled expression on her pretty face. Another vampire, a stunning woman with dark features and a wide, bright smile, walked behind them. Sarah was torn between ripping the beautiful water fae away from the vampires and fighting for her own preservation. If she intervened to help Tiffany, the jig would be up with Sarah’s disguise. There was no way Mat wouldn’t immediately realize who’d interfered.
Studying Tiffany’s face, Sarah tried to read her expression and body language. Was the girl hoping to be saved? She seemed happy, but was that merely the mesmerizing effect of the vampire at play? Before she could decide what to do, the trio disappeared through the rainbow cloud and down the stairs beyond.
“Everything okay?” Tad asked when he caught her looking.
Sarah smiled up at him. “Perfect. Mind if we take a breather? Maybe go somewhere quiet for a few?”
Was it duplicitous to ask Tad to take her to the privacy cubes on the loft level so she could follow Tiffany and make sure the other girl was okay? Yes. Definitely. But Sarah couldn’t in good conscience let the fae girl go off with a predator. There was no way she’d enjoy the rest of her night unless she knew that the girl was safe.
“I have a feeling that your motives are more pure than you’ve let on,” Tad said as he and Sarah descended the stairs.
She laughed uneasily. “Yeah, okay. You caught me. It’s just…I saw Mat talking to that girl earlier. I don’t know. It was a little weird.”
Tad gestured to one of the cubes that was unlit, indicating that no one lay within. “Wait inside. I’ll be right back.”
“Tad, where are you going?” Sarah called to his retreating back.
He was gone so fast that she didn’t have much choice but to plop down on the couch inside the cube.
This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. Sarah didn’t want to cause
trouble. It was supposed to be a drama-free evening, and the last thing she wanted was to make a ruckus over nothing.
Tad returned quickly, and Sarah wondered if she’d ever get used to the speed at which vampires moved. He looked just as perfect as when he’d left, so she felt confident that he hadn’t murdered anyone in the brief absence.
“What’d you do?” Sarah asked warily as he handed her a glass of what appeared to be water.
“Your friend is very grateful,” he replied with an easy smile. “She asked me to give you this and toast to your health.”
Sarah sniffed the glass suspiciously, wondering if it were truly water or something more nefarious. It was odorless. Tad chuckled at her hesitation, giving Sarah a confidence that was probably unfounded. Still, she took a small sip. It tasted like water. Clean, clear water, but just water. Then, she felt the cool rush of fae magic flood her veins. If she hadn’t met Tiffany herself earlier, Sarah would’ve been nervous to see what spell was cast upon her. Given the water fae’s bright energy, Sarah felt confident that she would’ve sensed anything dark lying within the glass.
Tad joined her on the couch, sitting so close that their knees touched. “Better?”
She nodded. “Best water I’ve had in a long time.” Holding his gaze, Sarah asked a question she wasn’t sure she wanted him to answer. “Who are you?”
“I told you. My name is Thaddeus.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Sarah pressed. “And you know it.”
Tad smiled sadly. “Tonight is about magic. Not the kind that you wield, though; the kind you feel in your soul. The kind that makes you believe anything and everything is possible. We have to go back to reality soon, but we can still embrace the dream while we’re here.”
“If you tell me who you really are, the dream will end?” Sarah guessed.
Tad leaned closer, his lips only a whisper away from hers. “Something like that.”
He didn’t kiss her. So, Sarah kissed him instead. His hands were suddenly in her hair, gently pulling her head back to expose her throat. When he trailed kisses along her neck, his fangs scraped the delicate skin. Sarah tensed in preparation for a bite that never came. Though she’d been prepared for the possibility, she was pleasantly surprised by his restraint and manners. His mouth moved to her ear.
“Your blood is much too powerful,” he murmured as if needing to explain. “Even for me, Princess.”
She ran her hands down his muscular chest, taking time to explore the planes of his stomach. Tad moaned softly as his lips returned to hers.
“I think I could be staked for this,” he teased breathily.
“It’s just a dream, remember? You can’t get in trouble for dreaming.”
There wasn’t much talking for a while after that, all communication of the physical variety.
Finally, Tad pulled back and cupped her cheeks in his large hands.
“I hate to end this, but I hear there is a fireworks display coming shortly that is a must-see.”
Hadn’t there just been fireworks inside the privacy cube? Still, she took his hand and let him lead her back to the roof. Tiffany and Andres were dancing again to a slow song, snuggled so close that Sarah was fairly certain that they had also made use of the privacy cubes at some point in the evening. Tad spun her onto the dance floor near the fae and were-eagle, exchanging a manly head nod with the shifter.
The twang of a guitar’s power chords overtook the other noises on the roof, and the crowd cheered in response. Sarah had never heard the song before, but about half the guests recognized the music enough to sing along with the first line, Tad included.
“Calling all you miscreants and wild ones.”
Fireworks lit the night sky in shining sparks of red, yellow, and orange. The show picked up pace with greens and blues fired off in quick succession. Tad pulled Sarah closer to him. He stared intensely into her eyes. One of his hands slid up and down her bare arm, almost as if to ward off the slight chill in the air. Instead, the action gave Sarah goosebumps. He bent down, lips hovering millimeters from hers.
“Last one before we wake.” He pressed his mouth firmly to hers.
Sarah closed her eyes and lost herself in the dizzying kiss. She gripped his arms for dear life, knowing without a doubt that their time together was at an end. Once the fireworks stopped and she opened her eyes, the dream would be over. It would be like the ball and Tad had never happened.
You’ll remember, Sarah promised herself. That was all that mattered. Because now that she’d dreamed this dream, she would spend the rest of her life trying to make it a reality.
The End
Turn the page for more Monster Ball…
Turning The Tides
By
Wendy Higgins
Chapter One
On a small island off the coast of northern Scotland was a small, half-collapsed castle, dank and remote.
I hated that castle.
Others might have seen ancient, weathered stone walls, and plant foliage romantically overgrown to gothic perfection, but I only saw a prison.
My mother and two aunts were in those walls, slaves to the magpie—collector, hoarder—a bird-like fae male who could move faster than my kind could fathom. Even if I could somehow get past the magpie to set Mum and her sisters free, they could never return to our homeland without their pelts, the magical second-skins that looked like mere capes when worn in our human forms. But when we donned the hoods of our pelts, we transformed back to our true selves: silken seals. Selkies. Peaceful creatures, as far as fae went. Yes, we were a type of fae, like many supernatural creatures on Earth. But unlike most other fae variations, Selkies were not fighters.
This was a problem. In general, our people rarely left the water for fear of having our pelts stolen and somehow getting stuck on land. But physical touch was a selkie’s weakness. My youngest aunt was about as rebellious as selkies got, and insufferably curious about the tales of mortal men. When she went above water and didn’t return, my oldest aunt left to search for her. And lastly my own mother, the middle of her sisters.
I was not brave or adventurous by nature, but after months without them, it was my turn. My timing had been lucky as the magpie had left for a solstice festival in a warmer locale. I wandered the land, terrified, until coming to the castle and hearing the interwoven harmonies of my kin-women softly seeping through the high castle windows.
“Mother!”
The singing stopped abruptly, only the wind whistling over the hills, rustling the grasses.
My heart leapt as three beautiful faces filled the window, long dark hair swishing around them. Through the glass my mother’s shouts reverberated to me.
“Ada! What are you doing here, my child? It is not safe! You must go!”
I was no child, and I refused to leave until they told me everything. The magpie. His giant cape made of their combined pelts. His disgusting habits and cravings.
“I will set you free!” I promised though the words filled Mother’s face with horrified fear.
“He has used magic to secure the place. It’s no use!” She begged me to stay away. To leave them to their fate and make a life for myself without them. I refused. I tried every door. I banged rocks against the handles until my teeth jarred. Then I threw those same rocks at the windows, far out of my reach, over and over, until I was out of breath and my limbs ached. The place was impenetrable. At least by me.
That was two years ago. I attempted to rally my people, but their terror of the magpie and their overly-cautious nature made them slow. Selkies, like many immortal creatures, could argue and ponder for years before coming to a decision. I refused to wait that long.
I visited the castle at every solstice, hoping he would be gone, and so far I’d been safe. This time, I approached on high alert as I heard my kin-women talking in excited, muted voices. Something was happening.
“Mum!” I called up.
All three women rushed to the window, pressing in to see me.<
br />
My eldest aunt elbowed Mother. I heard a muffled: “Tell her.”
“Darling pup,” Mum said, pressing her palms to the glass. “The magpie has received an invitation to a ball.”
“Wait,” I said. “The Monster Ball?”
“Yes! That was the name! You must tell the elders. If one of our kind can find a way to go, they can steal back our pelts. No one can be killed at the ball!”
All at once, my hopes soared and then dropped, leaving me feeling ill. I’d heard of The Monster Ball. All supernatural creatures had. But none could get in without an invitation. My heart ached as I looked into her eyes, too far away.
Resolve filled me. “I will travel the waterways to see if any of our kind has received an invitation. I will find a way!”
It was harder to walk away from them that time than any other before because the hope in their eyes became a stone on my shoulders. When I was out of their sight, on the piece of land between the castle and the sea, under the gray skies and windy hills, I nearly collapsed onto a rock, heaving for breaths, overcome by the impossibility of saving my kin-women. I’d never felt so alone.
I closed my eyes and raised my face into the chilling breeze. “Please, Mother Gaia, let me find someone with an invitation who will be willing to help.”
I’d barely finished wishing when a sharp snap wrenched the air and a flash of lightning had me opening my eyes. I let out a yelp, nearly tumbling from the rock with the surprise of something in my face that hadn’t been there seconds before. It hadn’t been lightning that lit the sky. I squinted and blinked.
Hovering before me in midair was a glimmering, silvery ticket. The air whooshed from my chest in a rush as I peered around me, looking for anyone who might be playing a trick, but I was the only soul in sight. I gingerly plucked the paper from the skies and read over it, tears of disbelief filling my eyes.
My heart pounded at the sight of the elegant script: The Monster Ball. Though trembling, I managed to flip it over and read: Just as the moon has brought me to you, so shall the moon bring you to the ball…” A joyful laugh of disbelief escaped my lips as I pressed the parchment to my chest.
The Monster Ball Year 2 Page 43
