Constant Cravings (3 page)

“There is magic in the music,” Liam explained.

Normally there was a cover charge, but the bouncers seemed to know him. They were both big, but looked only average compared to Liam’s tall frame. They stepped aside with a nod and removed the velvet rope blocking the entrance before motioning us inside.

Pixie Styx was a complete sensory overload. Magical notes danced in the air while humans dressed as fairies mingled unknowingly with the real thing. The music thumped so loudly I could feel it in my teeth and bodies brushed against us on our way across the floor. The air smelled sweeter as if it overflowed with perfume mixed with the smell of fresh flowers. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, there was just too much of it.

Small, golden bottles were being passed among the crowd. I noticed that only the real fairies took these, not the humans dressed up with fake wings. It must have been some kind of fairy drug. Dark corners I hadn’t noticed on my previous visits to the club were now visible. In these corners could be seen any number of sex acts. Two men, one with wings, one without, groped each other on a red loveseat, while a man with purple skin went down on a nymph in a chair behind them.

When I glanced up at Liam I was surprised to see him blushing. “I’m sorry.

Sometimes things get out of hand when half the crowd can’t see the enchanted corners.”

“I didn’t know they let the unseelie in here,” someone called from a table near the back.

Unseelie? From what little I knew about fairies, I was pretty sure that was a bad thing. He wasn’t talking about Liam, was he?

We turned in the direction of the voice and were greeted by a smile from a thin, blond man who was nearly as tall as Liam. He was so beautiful that I felt instantly insecure in his presence.

“Luna, this is Nym.”

As I shook his hand I asked, “Are you a fairy too?”

“Gods forbid,” he laughed. “I’m an elf, darling. Learn to tell the difference.” He pulled back a lock of long blond hair, showing me the tip of his pointy ear.

“I’ve got those too,” Liam said.

15

Tracey H. Kitts

Holy shit, he did. His white hair had covered it up before, but as he pulled it back his pointed ears were plain to see.

“Yes,” said Nym, “but mine are pointier and I don’t have unnaturally colored eyes.” I noticed he also had a tan.

The lighting wasn’t the greatest, but when the strobes flickered in our direction I noticed Nym was wearing a gold suit. Did everyone in this place have horrible fashion sense? Was it required to get through the door? Don’t get me wrong, he looked great in it. It was just so gaudy.

“You get to call my eyes unnatural when you stop dressing as if you escaped from a bad musical.”

I wasn’t sure if it was okay to laugh or not, but Liam’s comeback was hilarious. The men looked at each other for a moment before laughing and embracing like old friends.

We joined Nym at his table and while I sipped a martini, Liam explained the situation to him.

“I was on my way to meet Nym here tonight when you called,” he said to me.

“After what happened to you, I thought he might be able to help.”

“Can he fight werewolves?” I asked.

Nym waved off the comment with a laugh. “What did they put in your drink? I might be able to help because people tell me things.”

“Because he sleeps with half the magical community,” Liam said dryly.

I almost choked on my martini. “And you were on your way to meet him?” The elf laughed again. “Not for those purposes, my dear. Liam here is a bit uptight when it comes to accepting elf favors. He came to me for information.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “You see, rumor has it that someone wants to steal his magic.”

“That’s enough,” Liam interrupted. To counter the harshness of his tone he smiled.

“Besides, you know it has nothing to do with you being an elf. I just don’t like men.” I wasn’t used to having sexual matters discussed quite this frankly and could feel my cheeks burning. I was grateful for the dim lighting, which I’m sure hid a dark-red blush. Seeing the sexual displays in the dark corners of the room had not affected me as strongly as having Liam and sex mentioned in the same conversation.

“I go both ways,” Nym volunteered, “and I can’t even get him interested in a three-way.”

I fanned with a napkin to cool my burning face. Apparently Nym had been trying to get my shaman into his bed for quite some time. My shaman. Where did
that
come from?

“Are you all right?” Liam asked.

“No. I’ve got so many questions I’m going to need to make a list and I feel a little dizzy.”

16

Constant Cravings

“I’ll get back with you,” he said to Nym. At the elf’s wicked grin he added, “About the information, not the three-way.”

“Fine. I’ll see if I hear anything about a rogue werewolf.” The elf rose to bid us farewell. His hug was unexpected. He patted my back and said, “I’m sorry about your friend.” Humans were never this kind to someone they’d just met. Maybe I should hang around more elves.

Before we left I went to the bathroom. While I washed my hands I noticed writing all over the walls. Most prominent was a note in pink letters, “For a good time call”. I laughed, wondering if the number listed was Nym’s.

“What’s so funny?”

I turned to the woman beside me. She was decked out in her finest fairy-impersonating outfit and was more than half-drunk.

“Just that writing.”

She looked where I pointed and her brow crinkled as she made a face. “Honey, there’s nothing there. I think you had too much to drink.”

“Really? You don’t see that? Those huge pink letters?”

“Pink, huh?” She squinted at the wall. “All I see is a little chipped paint.” Liam offered to drive me home. Since Rachel and I had taken a cab to Rave because we both wanted to drink, I accepted the offer. On the way to my apartment I asked him about the writing.

“Just more magic that regular people can’t see.”

“How is it that I saw these people before, but couldn’t see what they really looked like?”

“It’s called a glamour spell. They made you see what they wanted. It’s how we’ve been able to co-exist for years without anyone knowing the difference. Lifting the veil nullified their ability to hide.”

“But you didn’t change,” I said softly. “You look just the same as before.”

“I have no desire to hide,” he said. The darkness and close space inside the car made the moment seem more intimate. His voice drifted to my ears like a warm summer breeze. “If people think I’m a weirdo who wears purple contacts, that’s fine by me. I’d rather have them see the truth and not understand, than to spend my life in hiding.”

I was too stunned by all that had happened to say anything else during the drive.

Instead we rode in silence with me vowing to make a list of all my questions just as soon as I could think straight.

Once we arrived, Liam walked me to my door. I watched as he removed a small vial from inside his coat and offered it to me.

“The last time you took a bottle out of your coat, I started seeing shit that wasn’t there before. Do I
want
to know what this is?” 17

Tracey H. Kitts

“It will help you sleep, keep you from having nightmares.”

“You always carry around things like that?”

He smiled. “No. After I spoke to you, I had a feeling you would need it. Even though you didn’t give any details, there was something in your voice.”

“Oh.” Grief washed over me, making me feel even worse for having forgotten my pain for a few moments, thanks to his magic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take away all your grief with the kiss. I’ll be back with something for the pain, but it will take me a few days to make.”

“I’m not—” I was about to say I wasn’t injured when I realized he meant something for my emotional pain. “That would be helpful, thank you.”

“I’ll meditate on your memories, see if I can tell for sure what attacked your friend.” He put his hand on my shoulder and I almost invited him in. Not for sex, but just because I didn’t want to be alone. “Everything will be all right somehow,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

He touched my face lightly and I knew it was more than loneliness that made me want him to stay. There was something about him that called out to me, made me want to keep him close.

“Lock the door before I go,” he said. “So I know you’re safe.” I smiled. “No one’s ever asked me to do that besides my dad.” He took a step closer and I fought the urge to pull him inside, pushed back the desire to lose myself in his warm voice and soft touch.

“I don’t instantly like a lot of people,” he explained, “fairy or otherwise. Until we know more about what’s going on, I’d feel better knowing that you’re locked safely inside your apartment.”

Closing the door was difficult, but I managed. I watched through the peephole and when I turned the deadbolt saw him smile before walking away.

After Liam had gone, I started crying again. Even though he had taken some of my grief on himself, seeing your best friend killed is a pretty terrible thing. I hugged my arms around my waist and curled into a ball beside the door. After several minutes, I got up and decided that a bath would help.

While I soaked in the hot water, watching the steam rise, I tried my best to relive tonight’s events without freaking out. What
did
I actually see? I pictured Rachel as she’d looked moments before it happened, remembering the smile she wore as she danced.

She was twirling around like a child, looking up at the stars, when I’d first noticed something was wrong. One second I heard a noise, the next I saw a blur of dark hair moving toward my friend.

Glowing red eyes. Claws. Teeth hovering above her face. I screamed.

That’s when it noticed me. The monster was hidden by shadows. The lighting was too poor to make out any more details other than it was big. Really big. I did the only thing I could—I turned and ran.

18

Constant Cravings

It reached for me as I turned, ripping my jacket loose. I knew the beast to be fast because of how quickly it leapt for Rachel. Now that I thought about it, it hadn’t tried very hard to catch me. When it grabbed my jacket I’d slipped in the mud, clawing my way through a puddle to regain my footing.

After that, I hadn’t stopped until I reached the café. I must have run two blocks.

I opened my eyes and realized I’d been clutching the rim of the tub so hard my knuckles had turned white.

Rachel had been on the ground, and when I looked again, she was gone. Had I just assumed she’d been eaten or did I see it happen?

“Fuck this.”

I towel-dried my hair and bundled up in my thickest bathrobe. It was the first of November and the weather was unseasonably cold. As I passed the thermostat on the way to the kitchen, I bumped up the temperature. I had an electric fireplace, but it only worked half the time and tonight I didn’t want to take a chance on setting the place on fire.

What I needed was sleep. I stared at the bottle Liam had given me for several minutes, wondering how much to take, before I noticed the tiny writing. At first I thought it was just a scratch on the bottle’s bright blue surface. I held it closer and could tell it was writing, but still couldn’t read the small print.

I rummaged through the kitchen junk drawer until I found a magnifying glass.
For
prevention of nightmares. Take one drop.

“Well, that answers that question.”

For the second time that night I took something a stranger had given me. Only this time, I hadn’t questioned my decision as much.

* * * * *

It was noon the next day before I woke up. My sleep had been good and thankfully free from nightmares. I couldn’t say as much for my waking thoughts. I decided it would be best to call my clients and cancel any readings for the next few days. I hated to turn away money, but I felt like shit. It’s not that I’m greedy. I needed to pay the rent.

Palm reading didn’t pay enough to live a life of luxury, but it was still decent money.

Technically, I didn’t have a “real job”. A friend of mine did taxes and had advised me against officially opening a business. He said that instead I should do readings in my home and accept “donations”. That way I avoided business taxes and actually made enough money to live.

So if you want to get technical, my services are free. I’ve always been grateful for the regular clients of mine who give large donations. Because of one of these I was able to take a few days to work through the loss of my friend.

19

Tracey H. Kitts

I made coffee on autopilot. I was like a zombie going through the motions of what I used to do. The night before seemed surreal. In the light of day I wondered if I’d only imagined a monster.

Then I remembered Liam.

I closed my eyes and saw his white hair spilling across my face, felt my nails biting into his shoulders as I gripped him tight. With a gasp I snapped out of whatever trance I’d been in. Normally, something like that didn’t happen to me unless I was reading for someone. Even then, it wasn’t a first-person perspective. Most of the time if I saw anything it was like watching a movie or a play acted out in front of me. But this was
real
.

“Was that a vision of the future?” I wondered aloud.

One thing was certain, I had not imagined him. My imagination wasn’t
that
good.

As I enjoyed my third cup of coffee, I began to make notes on things I had questions about from the night before.

At the top of the list was, “What does ‘unseelie’ mean?” This was immediately followed by “Who the fuck is Oberon and why does he sound familiar?” A few minutes alone with a search engine and I had only created more questions.

There were so many sites with information about fairies. Sometimes the internet can be too much of a good thing. I needed answers, and there were plenty here. Mostly to questions I hadn’t asked yet. Several sites did agree on one thing, “unseelie” was definitely bad.

The group known as unseelie was considered the “Dark Court”, consisting of solitary fairies who were supposedly more inclined to be wicked because they didn’t fit in with the rest.