Fractured Flowers

“It’s too hot,” Yutani said, peeking in my bedroom. His eyes had changed color over the past few weeks. They were nearly gold now and they gleamed in the dim light, like a cat’s eyes. Even in the few months since I had first met him, he had changed, and he was still changing. His heritage was emerging, and neither one of us knew where it would lead him.

He hesitated, staring at my neck. “You’re sweating,” he said, his voice sultry.

“I’m wet,” I said, holding his gaze as I slowly brushed my fingers across my throat. He tensed as I raised my fingers to my lips and slowly licked off the salt-filled drops. I was changing clothes in order to meet Raven, but the moment he got within a few yards of me, I could feel his hunger raging through his veins. And his hunger made me hungry.

“Keep it up and you’ll be even wetter,” he warned.

That only made me want him more. We had become lovers a little over a month ago, and it was almost impossible for us to keep our hands off one another. I fed on his chi and he fed on my sex, and we combusted like a match to gasoline.

“Shoo, fly,” I said, waving at him. “Take yourself out of my room. Raven will be here in ten minutes and I’m not even dressed yet.” I forced myself to focus on the evening ahead instead of his lean, lanky body that oozed sexual power. “If you don’t get out of here, I’ll rip those clothes off your body.”

A lazy smile eased across his lips, turning them up at the corners just the right amount. He winked. “Just make sure you wake me up if I’m asleep when you get home. And have fun.” He peeled himself away from the doorway and headed down the hall.

I didn’t like the heat. And most of Seattle didn’t like the heat either—the area wasn’t geared for it. Where I came from, near Shannon, Ireland, we never got temperatures in the nineties. The climate in the Pacific Northwest suited me, except for the occasional heatwave that swept through.

As soon as he vanished, I turned back to my closet, trying to divert my attention from the hunger between my thighs. I sorted through my closet. In my short time here, I’d acquired a surprisingly extensive wardrobe, most of it in leather, velvet, and denim. I spent a lot of time in leather pants, but it was too hot for them now. Instead, I slid on a pair of low-rise black jeans, pairing them with a black leather halter top. The plunging neckline barely contained my boobs, but that was fine with me. Like most of the Fae, I wasn’t shy about my body and, especially as one of the Leannan Sidhe, I preferred to show off my assets. And my boobs were definitely an asset.

Threading a chain belt through the belt loops, I clipped it in front, then slid on a pair of four-inch stiletto sandals and buckled them. They were bright pink—a vibrant pop of color against the stark black of my outfit. My hair was already brushed back into a high ponytail, and I added a pair of three-inch silver hoop earrings to the mix, along with white topaz studs into the row of four ear holes on each side. Against my dark hair, they shimmered under the light. Ten bangle bracelets on my left arm finished the outfit.

I looked at my outfit in the mirror and I decided I was ready.

“Raven’s here!” Yutani called from downstairs.

I grabbed my leather tote and, slinging it over my arm, headed down the stairs. We had moved into Ember’s old house a few weeks back, and now we had plenty of space, but it felt odd to think that I was living in the house that had belonged to the goddess to whom I was pledged. Then again, my life for the last two and a half years had been one massive blur of nightmares and new beginnings.

As I entered the living room, I could see Yutani out in the garden. He spent a lot of time out in the yard, communing with nature. Raven was sitting on the sofa, waiting.

One of the Ante-Fae, she was around a hundred, barely into adulthood. The Ante-Fae weren’t immortal, but they lived far longer than the Fae, and it had taken me awhile to unwrap the prejudices I’d been brought up with. But now, she was my closest friend, and we spent a lot of time hanging out together.

“You ready?” she asked, jumping up. She was about an inch taller than I was—five seven—but she was curvier than I was. Whereas I had boobs like hers, I was also muscled and taut. Raven was hourglass plump. I had dark auburn hair, and my eyes were crystal blue, while Raven had chocolate brown eyes and her hair was a mixture of black with purple streaks. We made an eye-catching pair, that was for sure.

Raven was wearing a chiffon mini skirt with a tulle petticoat, and spiderweb hose beneath it. She had on a purple corset that zipped up the front, and it elevated her boobs better than a pushup bra. Her boots were shiny patent leather with a five-inch platform, which put her almost half a foot taller than me. Beneath her clothes, she was heavily marked beneath her clothing—intricate spirals and patterns swirling over her skin. They were all natural—none of them were inked on.

She took one look at me and whistled. “Looking good, girl. You ready?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I need to blow off some steam.”

“As long as you don’t lock lips with anybody else,” Yutani interjected, peeking into the living room from the patio.

I snorted. “I’ll keep my kisses for you.”

While we weren’t monogamous, we had come to an agreement—all sex play with others was to be kept out of the house unless we agreed on a threesome or foursome, and kissing was reserved for just the two of us. Not only because it was more intimate than sex to both of us, but because I’d be in danger of draining all of the chi out of my partners and killing them. And with Yutani, I could drink chi to my heart’s content.

Raven and I headed out to her car. She had recently bought a new one. She and her fiancé Kipa had moved back from the realm of Kalevala, the land where the Finnish gods lived. She had been studying there with one of the Force Majeure—a group of powerful sorcerers. But due to a whole lot of nasty circumstances, they had returned to Archtalm, the human realm, better known as Earth to most people.

“Nice,” I said, eyeing the SUV. The Fendar Cheetah was sleek, easy to get in and out of, and it was a hybrid. Raven had it custom painted—it was a gorgeous aubergine with chrome trim.

“It rides like a dream,” she said. “Let’s go.”

As I fastened my seat belt, Raven flipped on the music. A German group—In Strict Confidence—was playing. I had a feeling that the “Snow White” of the song title wasn’t exactly about the fairytale, but rather a princess who preferred a series of white lines sorted by a razor blade. But it had a heavy, rhythmic beat, and it fit my mood. That was one thing I loved about Raven—she got the part of me that craved intensity. And she understood the allure of chaos.

“So, I tried to go back to reading cards at Llew’s shop,” she said, sounding frustrated. “But…I can’t do it. Working with Väinämöinen took me too far out of the ordinary. I’m finding it hard to settle into a daily routine here.” She sighed. “Raj can tell I’m bored, but Kipa hasn’t noticed. I haven’t told him yet, but I want to study more before we get married.”

“Typical man,” I said. “Or typical…male. God. Wolf. Whatever you want to call him.” I liked Kipa. He was almost as chaotic and wild as Raven, but he also could be dense at times.

She laughed. “Well, in that he’s typical. But…I wouldn’t trade him. I love him, and he’s too good in bed to lose.”

“That tasty?” I asked. That was another thing about Raven. She didn’t have a problem talking about sex, and since sex was such a big part of my life, it helped to have another woman to talk to.

“Yeah, he is,” she said with a laugh. “A delicious combination of sweet and salty.” She paused, then added, “What’s eating you? I can tell something’s bothering you tonight.”

I sighed, staring at the dashboard. “Yeah, there is. The heat’s getting to me. I feel like there’s some sort of oppressive cloud hanging over me, and I don’t know what it is. Kilnakarn is out of the way, so it can’t be that. But I’m all on edge.”

“Has Sejun been helping?” Raven asked, edging into the turn lane. We were headed to the Burlesque A Go-Go, an Ante-Fae nightclub run by one of Raven’s friends. It had become our go-to spot to party at. We both felt safe there, but it was so far from vanilla that it was the perfect place for both of us.

“Yeah,” I said. “Sejun’s a miracle worker. Though there are so many layers of pain to sort through that I’m not sure how long it will take to get to the center. If we ever do.”

Raven nodded, saying nothing. She just turned up the music and as Just Kait blasted out of the speakers, we continued on to Burlesque A Go-Go.

***

So, introductions are in order. I’m Lyrical Willow Muirín, and I’m one of the Leannan Sidhe, a member of the Light Fae. They call us faerie vampires, and in a way, they’re right. My kind are predators. We feed off of chi—and we can feed off of blood, though most of us don’t. In return, we offer visions and ecstasy, and we’re sought out by artists hungry for inspiration.

I grew up in Ireland, a princess of my people. But Kilnakarn burned that part of my life to the ground. The King of a Kelpie Pod, he kidnapped me about two and a half years ago, and forced me into sexual slavery. And as twisted as my own kind can be, the Kelpies make an art out of inflicting pain and humiliation. Kilnakarn didn’t spare the rod.

After two years, I was ready to sell my soul to escape, when the goddess Morgana rescued me at the behest of my mother. But then my mother betrayed my trust and the entire kingdom turned their back on me. They perceived me as damaged goods—used by the Dark Fae and therefore tainted. So I took Morgana’s hand and left what had been my home for good.

Morgana brought me to Seattle, where Herne and Ember put me to work with the Wild Hunt Agency. Ember, who had risen to goddesshood once she married Herne, took me on as her first priestess. Except that we hadn’t really had much interaction yet, given she was heavily pregnant with triplets. But once she had the children, she promised we’d begin my training. That was about a month away, and I didn’t even bother to contact her at this point. She was not having a pleasant pregnancy, and she was about as far away from the “glowing mother-to-be” as a Tasmanian devil was.

So, I settled in with the new crew of the Wild Hunt, or rather, a revamped crew—and I was learning to make my way in a world where I was no longer a princess. I actually preferred it. After two years as a sex slave, I knew I could never go back to a life like my childhood. So I decided to fully embrace my nature, to find happiness where I could, and now I was working with Sejun—a therapist—to put Kilnakarn’s abuse behind me as I looked forward to the future, and left behind the past.

***

We pulled into the parking lot of the nightclub. The lot was filling up—tonight was a special show, and everybody who was anybody in the Ante-Fae community had booked a table. Raven, being a special friend of Vixen—the owner of the club—had been invited to sit at Vixen’s table. The decree banning any of the Ante-Fae from helping Raven had recently been lifted. Apparently, the Queen of the Ante-Fae had grown weary of the fight and Raven could visit the club out in the open again.

I glanced around the parking lot as we got out of the car, feeling mildly sad. I had been dating Rake, one of Vixen’s employees, but Kilnakarn had him killed to spite me, and I missed the guy. He was fun to be around and good hearted, and I mourned his death. One more notch on the Kelpie King’s list of atrocities. But tonight was for fun, not for regrets, so we shouldered our purses and headed for the side entrance where the VIPs were allowed through without having to wait in line. The bouncers looked new, and then I realized they were vampires.

“The bouncers—the vamps are back!” I pointed to the pair waiting at the door. I glanced at the sky. Sure enough, the sun had set though it was still light enough to see.

“Vixen likes vampires. And they pay well enough that the vamps are willing to work for them. Vampires make good bouncers,” Raven said. She pulled out a laminated card as we approached the suited men who looked big enough to break us in half. They wore dark glasses, but even so, I could feel their gaze fixed on us. I’d only dealt with vampires a couple times, but I had the feeling that the longer I worked for the Wild Hunt, the more I’d be pulled into that shadowy world.

“Your card?” one of the men asked, holding out a gloved hand.

Raven presented it to him. He glanced at it under the penlight he was carrying and then at her, then handed it back. “Go on in. Vixen is waiting for you at their usual table.”

His partner opened the door for us and we descended the stairs in the dimly lit hall, heading for an interior door that was guarded by yet another bouncer. He, too, checked Raven’s ID, and then opened the door for us. We entered the club, which was already packed. Vixen was sitting at their table, and they waved us over when they caught sight of us.

Vixen was literally gender fluid, taking on whatever gender they felt fit their nature at the moment. Today, Vixen sported a bouffant that rivaled Queen Latifah’s in the movie Hairspray, and they were wearing a vibrant orange caftan, with a slit that showed Vixen’s long, smooth legs. Whether presenting as male or female, Vixen was always groomed to go, elegant and refined, yet as brazen as Joan Crawford or Bette Davis. Vixen vaped, but with a specially made vape pen made to resemble the long cigarette holders of old. Everything about them was carefully cultivated.

“How are you, darlings?” Vixen rolled their r’s. Beneath the surface, they were a snake shifter and sensuality rolled off every word and movement, even as every nuance was underscored with danger.

“The heat’s got me beat,” I said, gratefully dropping into the booth next to Raven. “I’m not used to it, and it’s sapping the life out of me.”

“Oh love, I’m so sorry. I find that the hotter it is, the more I feel alive—it perks me up and makes me feel stronger with each climbing degree.” Vixen held up their martini glass. “Shall we toast to an evening that will hopefully wipe away our cares?”

“We will, but I think we need drinks before we can toast,” Raven said.

“Of course.” Vixen raised their hand and with one snap of the fingers, a waitress was at our table. “Whatever they order, on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that—” Raven started to say, as she began to look through the menu.

I was too hot to eat anything except light foods. “Thanks. I’ll have the fruit salad, a grilled cheese sandwich with fries, and a Parmanian slushie.”

Parmanian liquor tasted like a cross between raspberries and cranberries, and made the best frozen drink ever.

Raven licked her lips. “That sounds good. I want the chicken tenders, fries, the tomato-cucumber side salad, and I’ll have a chocolate milkshake with coconut rum in it.”

As the waitress headed toward the kitchen, I glanced at Vixen. While they were smiling, I could sense something beneath the surface that wasn’t quite so cheery. As one of the Leannan Sidhe, I could sense emotions. While Vixen was greeting another regular, I turned to Raven.

“Something’s going on. Vixen’s energy is pretty ragged right now. The smile is plastered on,” I said, leaning in.

“Oh? I wonder what’s up,” Raven whispered back. “I’ll try to find out.”

The music and energy of the crowd was growing. Tonight, one of the best dancers among the Ante-Fae was going to perform with Apollo, Vixen’s boy toy. Apollo was more than that—he was in college, studying so he could help with the business eventually, and he was Raven’s friend, but in the end, he did whatever Vixen wanted him to.

“Ready for the show?” Vixen asked, turning their attention back to us. But instead of excitement, I registered a nervous tic in their voice.

Raven must have picked up on it, too, because she reached across the table and tapped Vixen’s hand. “Hey, what’s going on? I can sense it. Lyrical can sense it. Are you all right?”

Vixen paused, then gave us an offhand shrug. “All is well, my little birds. Fret not. Just a speed bump in the road of life. At least, all will be well after I take care of an imposing problem—” But before they could finish, the spotlight flashed over the center stage in the middle of the club.

The club had a dark, glittering aura, heavily influenced by the artwork that lingered in the shadows, and the lighting that was carefully nuanced to cast a mysterious, sexy ambience throughout the dance floor and bar. The spotlight shifted colors as a panel on the stage slid open and to a slow, sonorous beat, a hidden platform began to rise.

On the platform, two figures clad in sparkling gold and black appeared. One I recognized as Apollo, the Golden Boy. He was clad in a loincloth of shimmering gold lamé and a black leather harness that crossed his bare chest. I caught my breath as he made eye contact with the audience. His eyes were like a breath of frost, and his hair, the color of flax. He was posed in a position of supplication, on one knee, his arms spread wide, as he gazed up at his dance partner.

The other dancer I didn’t recognize. She wore an underbust sheath that came down to her ankles, exposing her breasts, which hung heavy with upturned nipples. The sheath looked to be made of turquoise and gold scales, and at the upper thigh, it divided into panels, slits exposing her legs all the way around. Her skin was dark, a warm brown, and her eyes seem clouded, covered with an opaque milky film. Her hair was caught up in a headwrap.

She began to move, her body a ripple of serpentine energy as she slowly spun on one toe, swinging her other leg over the top of Apollo’s head. As they spread out on the stage, I began to follow their story. He was the suitor, pining for her, always chasing after the dream, and she had no clue he existed. They orbited each other—she was his sun, he was her moon, constantly pining for her as she spun through space, never realizing he was there. They were mesmerizing in their movements. At one point, she arched back in an incredible contortion, poised on the toes of her left foot, right leg angled straight into the air, hands clasping the back of her left calf as she touched the top of her head to her leg.

Their energy meshed to the point of where I could feel the connection. Apollo and the dancer had been together—I knew it in my heart. I wondered whether Vixen knew. I glanced at Vixen and saw their eyes were narrowed as they watched the dancers weave together, and jealousy shrouded the Ante-Fae like a cloud. I was about to say something when Raven gasped.

I turned back to watch the dancers and found it impossible to take my eyes off the pair, and my hunger began to grow. I wanted to leap on stage, to take both of them into my bed. I clutched my drink, forcing my hunger down. As I licked my lips, I glanced up and saw that Vixen was looking at me, a sly smile on their face. They winked, and I swallowed hard, giving them a quick nod as I turned my attention to my food.

I stuffed a French fry into my mouth, then took a bite of the fruit salad, trying to keep from letting the dancers suck me in again. I couldn’t let my hunger take over. Luckily, I knew how to control it, even though it was difficult. At that moment, I realized I missed the chase. I missed that immediate win when I managed to ensnare a new host on which to feed. It wasn’t like that with Yutani.

The dance droned on, the music still threatening to pull me in. Finally, I decided to remove myself from the frustration and unobtrusively rose. I whispered to Raven that I was going to the restroom and would be back in a moment. I wasn’t sure if she heard me or not, but I quickly wended my way through the crowds and slid into the hallway that led to the restrooms.

Once in the bathroom, I splashed some cold water on my face, making sure not to ruin my makeup, and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes—blue as the summer sky—were glowing, and every nerve in my body screamed for attention. I pulled out my phone and texted Yutani.

please be ready for me when i come home. i need to feed—i’m managing to control myself but i think it was a mistake coming here tonight.

Less than thirty seconds later, I got a response. oh, i’ll be ready for you. i was ready for you earlier. do you need anything special?

I thought about it for a moment. We’d started experimenting with various kinks—vanilla wasn’t our flavor of choice—and I was starting to realize that some of the treatment at Kilnakarn’s hands had instilled certain needs that even therapy wasn’t going to erase.

maybe. just…i need you. i need to feed. i’ll be home asap.

see you then.

Pocketing my phone again, I headed back to the main floor.

As I entered the club proper again, to my relief I saw that the dance had ended and the lights had come up, though they were still dim. A couple belly dancers were on the stage, but they weren’t part of the main attractions and they were just filling in time. Apollo and his dancing partner were sitting a few tables away from Vixen and Raven. Vixen was staring at their drink, saying nothing. I had started for the table when a sudden flash blinded me, along with everyone else as it seemed to spread before leaving the club in darkness. Seconds later, a shriek echoed through the room.

“What the hell—” I knew the general direction toward our table and started to feel my way through the crowd as the haze from the flash began to recede. As my vision began to return, I saw that everyone else was rubbing their eyes, too. Then I realized I was about three yards from the table.

Raven was sitting there, looking bewildered, as were the dancer and Vixen. Slumped across the nearby table, blood oozing from his neck, was Apollo.