Easy Bake Coven (22 page)

Sebastian didn’t take it easy on me for a moment, human leaning or no. He pelted tennis balls at me without mercy. Then we ran the stupid dart course six times before he informed me it was time to quit and removed all the darts from my back. I returned to the house thoroughly exhausted but in a far more cheerful mood. Cheney was still no where to be found.

I went to my room. Laying on my bed was a garment bag and a note with, “Wear this,” scrawled across it. Underneath the satiny black enclosure was a short, fitted white dress with an asymmetrical, slightly draped neckline. It was beautiful and absolutely my style. Excitement and worry sparred for control of my stomach.

After I showered and applied the healing cream to my dart wounds, I slipped on the dress. The soft material hugged my body as if it were made for me. I turned, looking at it in the mirror from all angles. Absolutely flawless. Staring in the mirror trying to decide how to wear my hair, I noticed I looked different. My face was slightly thinner, making my cheekbones more dramatic. The amber coloring of my eyes looked more golden. My skin nearly shimmered. All in all, I looked prettier than I had before but somehow foreign to myself. Whether or not I liked the difference was still up in the air. I decided to wear my hair ultra straight and smooth, not only because it would look best with my dress, but it would hide my ears.

I walked out of my room, knowing exactly how hot I looked and feeling confident. Tonight I would talk to Cheney. Maybe Sebastian was right. Perhaps he could understand.

Cheney sat on the couch, drink in hand. He wore dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a dark grey collarless jacket. His hair was wonderfully messy and his face every bit as stubbled and brooding as ever. He looked absolutely delicious.

“There’s a drink for you on the table,” Cheney said without turning around. Behind me, I found a vodka tonic waiting for me with a little gift bag next to it.

“What’s in the bag?”

“A gift . . . for you.” He still hadn’t looked in my direction. I peeked in the package and squealed with delight. “Your other one was crushed in the fall, so I replaced it. It should have all of your music on it. If anything’s missing, let me know.”

“How do you know what music I had on my iPod?”

“I didn’t. I went to your house today and downloaded your library on it.”

Carrying my drink into the living room, I sat it on the end table and hugged Cheney before I could talk myself out of it. “That was very nice of you. Thank you. You have no idea how much I’ve missed having my music.”

Cheney accepted the hug but did not return it. I awkwardly released him and took a seat. “So what’s the plan for tonight? And thank you for the dress, by the way. It’s lovely.”

He nodded, acknowledging my thanks. “It’s mostly a surprise, but I’m taking you to a club tonight.”

I smiled. Part of me desperately wanted to get out of this house, but the other part of me questioned his motives. He was still angry, so why was he being so nice to me? I took a long drink of my vodka tonic, debating whether I should be appreciative or questioning. Questioning won. “Why are you being so nice?”

Cheney gave me a smile that was anything but friendly. “You may not want to see me, but we still have to live together. I’ve noticed your pouting. Perhaps we could both use a night out.”

“Cheney—”

“Drink up. It’s time to go.”

I finished my drink in two more gulps and stood. He loosely draped an arm around my waist. We ended up in a parking lot with no buildings nearby.

“Did you over shoot your mark?”

Cheney gave me a level look. “We can’t just appear in a club.” He climbed onto a huge motorcycle beside him.

“You can’t expect me to ride on that in this,” I said. He didn’t reply, just tossed me a helmet.

Obviously he expected just that. I pulled my hair to one side over my shoulder then put on the helmet. I climbed onto the bike, my skirt hiking up to an indecent level.

“Hold on,” Cheney commanded as he brought the beast to life with a roar. We took off so fast my breath caught in my throat. I clung to his waist, pressing my head against his back, both terrified and exhilarated as we whipped through the streets and traffic. A few minutes later Cheney made his own parking spot. I pulled the helmet off and handed it to him.

“Does my hair look weird?”

“It looks fine,” he answered without looking at me.

We walked up to a club with a huge line already formed outside. Cheney bypassed the line as I walked quickly to keep up with him. The bouncer nodded at Cheney as he ushered me through the door. Heavy electronic music pulsed through the room. Cheney led me through the crowd of people to an area quarantined off by a braided rope and a bouncer. The man stepped aside. We walked toward a seating area where my friends already sat.

“Selene!” they squealed in unison before I was engulfed in a giant hug.

Katrina, Devin, Leslie, and Jessica surrounded me, all talking at once. I couldn’t follow a thing they were saying, but I grinned at them foolishly. My eyes filled with tears. “I missed you guys so much,” I said, hugging them back. “But I can’t understand anything you’re saying to me, so start again, only one at a time.” The five of us squeezed onto a couch together.

“Oh my God, you look fantastic! You’re literally glowing. You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Devin said in her normal rushed manner.

I laughed truly for the first time in weeks. “Thank you and no, absolutely not.”

“Selene, you hot mess. You can’t believe how much we’ve been worried about you. If it wasn’t for Cheney’s updates and Devin’s dreams, we would’ve formed a search party.” Katrina hugged me again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a phone—wait, Cheney’s been giving you updates?” I glanced over at him. He ignored us, looking out over the dance floor with feigned interest, though I knew he could hear me. “And what sort of dreams did Devin have?”

“Of course he was. Didn’t you know that? I mean, he didn’t say much. He’d just pop in on one of us and tell us you were fine and training. You missed us all terribly, etc., etc.,” Leslie said. “We wouldn’t have let you go with him otherwise.”

“I had a couple dreams about you. One where you were running towards the edge of a cliff and another one where you were floating in a pool. Nothing too informative.”

Well, the cliff one had happened. I guessed the pool was yet to come.

“We’re all glad you’re fine and everything, but what we really want to know is what’s going on with you and him.” Jessica laughed.

I couldn’t help but look up at Cheney. He was still looking away, but his posture definitely stiffened.
Oh yeah, undoubtedly listening.
“It’s complicated.” All four girls gave me a look that said I had better start talking. “Between the two of us, we’d have to take out a loan to check all our baggage—and that’s all I am saying about it.”

“She needs a drink. You need a drink,” Jessica waved over the waitress and ordered me a vodka tonic and a Jägerbomb.

“So how’s everything with you guys? How’s the studio?”

“The studio’s doing well. Everything’s the same with me. I’m still dating John,” Jessica offered.

“Except you get to go on awesome trips at the expense of Selene’s boyfriend!” Katrina said with a smile.

“Husband,” I corrected her absentmindedly. So Cheney had paid for them all to come here? And where was here anyway? My pondering was cut short when I noticed they were staring at me, mouths open.

“Did I hear that right?” Devin asked. “Did you say
husband
?” Her voice was an octave higher than usual. I glanced up; even Cheney was looking back at me.

“Yeah. Well . . . I mean . . . he is my husband, yes,” I stumbled, my cheeks getting hot “We were married before I became a changeling. I’m still figuring things out.” I didn’t know why I told them all that. Did I think of myself as his wife?

“Holy shit! You’re freaking married!!” Katrina searched my hands for a ring.

“No ring,” I told her.

“Nevertheless, you’re married to
him
,” Leslie said, waggling her eyebrows.

I could do nothing but laugh helplessly. “What have you been up to?”

“Not getting married, that’s for sure. Umm, basically the same stuff as always. Work, drinking, witchiness, repeat,” Katrina said with a smile.

“Devin?”

“You know me, always knee deep in drama, but nothing like what you just sprang on us. I can’t believe you’re married and didn’t invite us to the wedding. Are you going to have another wedding? Can we help you plan it? I can make your wedding dress. I’ll get a spray tan.”

Leslie squeezed me in a hug that was more like a headlock. “Are you happy?”

“Too much, too much.” I eased away. They were beginning to panic me. “We were married before—I can’t even remember it, but there are no plans to get married again—that’s for sure. It isn’t all that easy or clear cut. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” I looked each of them in the eye, seeing if they understood.

“Oooo, Goldfrapp—let’s dance.” I pulled them to the dance floor to one, get a little distance from Cheney if we were going to talk about this stuff, and two, burn off some of the nervous energy that made me want to bounce around in my seat. Like every Goldfrapp song, it was sultry and sticky. The five of us danced in a loose circle, very much in our own style.

Before too long a few men danced up, claiming each of us. I glanced at the guy behind me, debating whether or not to dismiss him. I looked for Cheney to see if he looked bothered because I didn’t want to make things between us worse. When I spotted him, he had his own dance partner. Some pretty blonde in a skin tight red dress that barely covered her ass. Cheney’s eyes met mine as I pressed back into the man behind me. His eyes twinkled from across the room, and he looked back at the blonde chippy in front of him. A highly digitalized Beastie Boys remix took over next. I continued to dance with the man behind me, who now had his hands on my hips, while I watched Cheney dance too close to the blonde. He didn’t even glance back at me, which was even worse. It was one thing if he was watching me while he danced with her—but to dance with her and not even think about me? It lit a jealous little fire. The blonde put her arms around Cheney’s neck and I saw red . . . or was that green?

Unacceptable,
a voice said in my mind and I agreed with it.
I removed the man’s hands from my body and pushed through the crowd toward Cheney.

“May I cut in?” I asked, stepping between him and the girl, as an electronic song I didn’t recognize started up. If the girl responded, I didn’t hear her. I only saw Cheney. Neither of us said a word to the other. He pulled me against him, our hips grinding as we dipped down.

The rhythm moved our bodies together in time. I turned around, pressing back into him as his arms wrapped around my front. My head rested on his shoulder as we twisted up and down.

“Trying to make me jealous?” I asked.

“It wasn’t too hard—especially considering you don’t want me.” His lips brushed hotly against my ear; his hands tightened around me.

I faced him once more, draping my arms around his neck. “It’s not that I don’t want you. I just don’t know.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you figured it out?” He ran his hand lightly down my arm as his eyes burned into mine.

I had trouble breathing when he looked at me like that, especially with his lean, well-defined body molded to mine, still dipping and swaying to the pounding music. “I want to hang out with my friends. I never get to see them,” I said weakly.

“Tell me you were wrong, and I won’t distract you anymore. Tell me you’re mine.”

I pulled his mouth to mine, letting the urgent intensity grow. “I was wrong,” I whispered against his mouth. He kissed me back with equal abandon. My friends were the last things on mind. I wanted to shove him against the wall and continue what we started. Cheney pulled back, however, his golden eyes molten.

“I think they’ve gone back to the couch,” he said, his voice deeper with desire as he turned me in the correct direction.

“Glad to see you put an end to that shit,” Katrina said with an amused glint in her eyes as she swirled the remaining cosmo in her glass