Authors: Jamie Magee,A. M. Hargrove,Becca Vincenza
Tags: #Anthologies, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Collections & Anthologies, #Anthologies & Short Stories, #Romance, #Vampires, #Paranormal, #sexy, #Aliens, #lovers, #shifters, #dangerous
“How do you plan to do that? Start asking every Xanthian you see?” Jurek’s voice dripped sarcasm.
Liasare threw Jurek a disgusted look and retorted, “Am I wearing a shirt that says, ‘Moron?’”
“No, you’re wearing one that says, ‘Trouble.’”
“Not funny.”
“Hey, stop it you two. You’re not accomplishing anything by bickering,” Jaylen interrrupted. “Besides, I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it. It has to be better than anything Liasare has to say.”
That brought a huge grunt from Liasare and a sour look from Jaylen.
“Okay, there’s this soiree that’s being sponsored by the Xanthian’s and all the Who’s Who will be there. Maybe I could scrounge up a couple of extra tickets for the two of you.”
“Brilliant idea Jaylen!” Jurek exclaimed.
“No. I don’t do those things.”
“Well, make yourself do those things Liasare. If you want to get information about your brother, you’re going to have to suck it up,” Jurek added drily.
“I don’t have the proper clothing for something like that.”
“No problem. That’s where I can help,” Jaylen added.
“What would I have to wear?” Liasare wondered.
“It’s a fairly dressy event. Not formal mind you, but close. There will be everything from cocktail attire to black tie.”
“No way. I can’t do that.”
“Why ever not? You’d look great in a sexy cocktail dress. I’m sure I could find a pretty dress for you to borrow.”
Liasare felt the panic beginning to consume her. She could never wear anything that would expose her skin. She had to have everything covered. And then there was the issue of her leg so normal shoes were out of the question as well. She felt the beginnings of a full on panic attack approaching. She glanced around uneasily, looking for an escape, as her body began to tremble.
“Liasare, what is it?” she heard Jaylen ask.
Jurek cocked his head and stared at her in his odd way.
She made it as far as the door when she felt his arm snake around her waist. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “Tell me what has you so upset.”
She shook her head, trying to dispel the question, refusing to answer. She felt him release her, but his words stopped her.
“If finding your brother is important to you, then going to this soiree may be the answer you are seeking. The decision is yours, but I find it odd that you balk at attending a simple party. It’s apparent you are hiding something. Will you make it necessary for me to reach into your mind to find out what it is?”
She shoved his arm away and ran out the door.
Chapter Eight
Liasare wandered through the streets, thinking about Tommy and what happened at Jaylen’s. Maybe she should just tell Jurek why she didn’t want to go to the party. She thought about the day she and Tommy had that stupid accident. It wasn’t like it was a big secret or anything. She simply didn’t like to talk about it because it made her so uncomfortable.
As she walked, she inspected the people on the streets. She noticed a couple of things that triggered a memory. That day she’d gone to the warehouse where she thought Tommy lived, she’d seen those two men that looked drugged. Maybe that’s what they’d done to Tommy too. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t find him. She dashed back to Jurek’s to share that tidbit of information with him.
When she ran inside, he was there with Tak discussing the soiree that Jaylen had mentioned.
“Nice hairdo Brownie. So, why don’t you like parties? Are you that bad of a dancer?” he snorted.
“This is the last time I’m telling you that my name is not Brownie. If you can’t call me by my real name, then I refuse to answer any of your questions.”
Both men began laughing at her response.
“You forget something Brownie. One tiny command from us and we’ll have you spilling all of your secrets in no time,” Tak taunted.
She looked at them laughing, wishing like hell the knotted mass in her gut would disappear and that she wasn’t so self-conscious about why she couldn’t go to that damn party. Realizing what Tak said was the truth, she thought back to the few times Jurek had used that trick on her. She’d fallen under his spell and was unable to deny any of his requests. Hating the fact that she had to share something so personal and humiliating, she decided to dodge the true answer.
“The truth is, I don’t know how to dance,” she quietly said as she looked at the floor.
“Hah, I thought all girls were taught to dance,” Jurek responded.
“Yeah, well, obviously you thought wrong. My mother taught me very little.”
“Sounds like a real nice lady,” Tak said.
“Yeah, I think you two would be besties,” she said sourly.
Both men cocked their heads at her in those weird angles, indicating they weren’t sure of the meaning of her statement.
“My mother’s a bitch. Get it? She’s mean and spiteful and from the time I was thirteen, she didn’t have another nice thing to say to me. Why the hell would she teach me how to dance?”
“Why thirteen?” Jurek wanted to know.
“Long story.” She kicked her toe on the floor.
“Is that the only reason you have an aversion to parties?”
Damn he’s perceptive.
“Liasare, come with me.”
When Jurek spoke in those tones, there was no use in denying him, so she followed him. She was surprised when they entered an area she hadn’t been to before. Passing through a set of double doors, her eyes widened when she realized they had just walked into his private quarters. Having not been to them before, she was quite astonished to see how finely appointed they were. Liasare felt like she had stepped into another world. Her boots immediately sunk into thick carpeting making her itch to take them off. His bed was enormous. It was made up in black silken linens, which didn’t surprise her in the least. The furniture looked to be hand carved, extremely expensive and most likely ancient. The corner was fitted with a black leather couch and chair that looked so comfortable she just wanted to throw herself into it. It was all decadently tasteful right down to the exotic art lining the walls.
“Have a seat,” he indicated she should sit in the chair.
She sat on the leather sofa and watched him shrug.
“You can trust me with whatever it is that upset you back at Jaylen’s.”
“Why would I ever believe I could trust you? It’s not like you’ve exactly rolled out the welcome mat.”
Liasare felt the current of power increase in the room as she saw his eyes darken. His mouth pressed into a thin line and he snapped, “I’ve saved your bloody ass more than once and I’ve given you safe haven. What more proof do you need?”
Wincing at his words, a pained expression crossed over her face. Remorse and regret instantly washed over her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to bare her soul to him. It wasn’t trust that was holding her back. It was pride, shame and embarrassment. She was grotesque looking and the last thing she wanted to do was to share that vulnerable part of herself. Bowing her head, she stared at her feet, trying to decide what to do.
“Look, the truth is I need you to go to that soiree with me. Not only for your brother but for other things we are working on. Let me explain Liasare. There have been many disappearances. Thousands and everyday there are more. We are trying to find where, why and how. Our leads have been minimal. Earth isn’t the only place this is happening. This soiree may be one place we can pick up some information. Go with me. I’ll behave. I promise not to act like an ass. I’ll be a gentleman.”
She lifted her head and exhaled. Not going would seem petty and selfish, childish even. Her decision made, she began, “I can’t go, not because I don’t want to, but because of this.” She pulled up her sleeves and showed him her arms. The scars were horrific. Her skin was an angry red twisted mass of fibrous tissue that was the result of severe burns.
“My entire body is like this, except for my hands, neck and face. So now you know the real reason.” She knotted her fingers as she dropped her head and stared at her feet again.
Silence descended on the room like an enormous grey elephant. She began to fidget and decided it was time for her to get out of there before she said something really stupid.
“How did it happen?” he eventually asked, reaching for her arm.
Oh crap! I never imagined that he’d want to know about it!
“It was a stupid accident. I was thirteen and my brother was fifteen. Our neighbor left his Speedster out so we decided to take it for a spin. We’d been fascinated by the thing. I guess since we were human, that flying motorcycle was something we couldn’t keep our eyes off of. Thomas had a friend who taught him how to fly one, so being the young fools we were, off we went. Thomas made me wear the helmet. It pissed me off but he said if I didn’t wear it, we couldn’t go. We’d never been anywhere so I finally relented. Up we flew and it was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt in my life.” She lifted her eyes to Jurek and grinned as she remembered that feeling of absolute freedom.
“Thomas flew us toward the mountains and as we crested them we got our first glimpse of the sea. We were so shocked it had been right on the other side of those mountains and we never knew it! I can’t begin to tell you how excited we were. I still remember those feelings exactly like it was yesterday. The beauty of the coastline … the smell of the salty air … the wind against my body. We were laughing and having the biggest damn thrill of our lives ... that is until the alarms starting ringing. We were almost out of fuel. In our excitement, we never thought to pay attention to the fuel gage. Thomas turned the Speedster back toward home but we never made it. We crashed just on the other side of the mountains. Thomas was thrown but I landed beneath the Speedster as it exploded. They didn’t think I was alive, because I was so badly burnt. The helmet saved me; my head would’ve been crushed otherwise. I also had on gloves, which is why my hands aren’t scarred. My right leg and pelvis were shattered. My leg is about one and a half inches shorter than my left, which is why I can’t dance. I have to wear special shoes. I have boots made to accommodate the difference in leg lengths. I’ve had twenty-three surgeries to fix everything. They did the best they could, but it was never quite enough. I’m lucky; if it would have happened here, I’m sure I would have died from the injuries. Thomas took care of me. He did
everything
for me. My mother did nothing. She told me afterward that I was worthless and would never amount to anything. She didn’t even want them to try to save me because she said I’d be so disfigured no one would be able to stand to look at me. She was right about that. So now you know.” Liasare started to stand when his words halted her.
“Do they pain you?”
“Huh?” Her eyes were on his muscular shoulders as his shirt stretched tightly across them when he reached for her other arm.
“Your wounds. Do they pain you?”
“Sometimes, but I’ve had them longer than I haven’t so I guess I’m used to it.”
“Would you rather not have them?”
“What kind of a stupid question is that?” she asked, bristling as she snatched her arms out of his grasp.
“It’s not a stupid question. If you had the choice, would you rather not have them?” he persisted.
“Of course! How can you ask that? I have to be covered from head to toe all the time. I’m hideous Jurek. I ... yeah, I would rather not have them,” she answered glumly.
“I can take them away if you’d like.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Yes, it is. Give me your arm and I’ll show you.”
He took her arm and pulled the sleeve up higher. He held it between his hands and slid his hands up and down around it. Liasare felt the heat begin and grow, then it intensified, not quite to the point of pain but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
When he pulled his hands away, she looked down at her arm and her skin was as smooth as ever with not so much as a blemish in sight. Her hand trembled as she reached to touch it, hardly allowing herself to believe what she was seeing. She held up her arm and looked at it from different angles, trying to understand what she was seeing.
Liasare lifted her eyes to him saying, “I don’t understand. How could you do that?”
“It’s one of my gifts,” he stated.
“Thank you,” she whispered, still not believing her eyes, pinching her skin.
“Would you want me to take all of your scars away?”
“You would do that?”
“Only if you consent to go to the soiree with me! I want you to think about something else. It would be prudent for you to allow me to remove them. If someone would see them, there is no doubt they could identify you by them. Without them, you would be less noticeable.”
She nodded, agreeing. “When can we do this?”
“Now if you’d like. But afterward, you and I will both have to recuperate because the healing on you will drain you and using so much power will drain me.”
“How long?”
“Only a day or two.”
“Okay. But I have to ask. Is there a catch?”