Saturday December 20th  2014

It was a joy to wake up with the akatharton in his arms. This was one of the last days he’d have this, and he meant to suck the marrow from its screaming bones before it was taken from him. Soon, Winter Break would be here, and he’d be back on the streets.

He had to give it to them, they'd fucked him good. Whether Viktor knew what the note contained was up for debate. He was still pissy about getting shit on in front of the school. The man pushed each workout as hard as ever, not letting up until Cesare couldn’t lift himself off the mat. But did he know what Jerold had done or was it like so much with Viktor, out of sight was out of mind?

 

Cesare,

 

We are aware that you do not have a family to go home to for the holidays. However, we regret to inform you that you cannot stay on campus. While some students enjoy this privilege, given recent events, it would be better if you stayed somewhere else.

 

Regards,

 

Jerold.

 

Simple and to the point. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. It didn’t matter that he had nowhere to go. He was a troublemaker, and they'd see him gone.

Holding Anastasia, he dipped his head, he breathed in her scent as her fever hot warmth washed over him. These had been some of the best weeks of his life. Having someone to take care of, someone who needed and wanted him. It had filled the aching void inside him. We want to love others far more than we want to be loved. Some find their singular worth in helping others. Only good for what they could do for others, they carved themselves into slaves of body and soul.
She was beautiful and wonderful. Having her was like owning the night. To have its shadow as his own, to know it shaded the world at his command and cooled the searing scars the sun had burned into him. He knew the more he loved, the more it would hurt when she left, but he couldn’t pull away. He’d kept the memories shiny and new, storing them for the storm of pain to come. Misery breeds like morning glories, while happiness is as hard to grow as orchids and lasts as long.

Cesare watched the room slowly brighten as the sun rose. He couldn’t help but remember what Kali had said, that some things were special enough to lose sleep over. He wondered if she’d watched him like he watched Anastasia now.

“You awake, Cesare?”

Giving in to the impulse, he kissed her gently on the top of her head. The close-cut hair was growing back, but it would be a long time before it was as long as it had been. “Yep. You ready to wake up, princess?”

She snuggled into his chest. “Not yet. You’re soft and the bed’s warm. We still have time before I need to get ready.”

“We have the day; the Yule Ball doesn’t start until eight.”

Anastasia let out a sigh, running over his word as if they hadn't been said. “Thankfully, Miss Raven agreed to come by and help me get ready. I love your help but make up’s a delicate thing, not for the fumbling fingers of a novice.”

Anastasia’s hands moved over his as they rested on her stomach. The wraps had come off a week ago. The flesh was maggot-white, a wasteland of red valleys and trenches with translucent sickly spots. The damage reached up her forearms, stopping just below her elbows.

Cesare could feel the lacerated flesh. Rough as a cat’s tongue, it rasped along his softer skin. She didn’t have anywhere near the dexterity she used to, the nerves and muscles wasted and ruined.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Anastasia asked quietly.

“Mind what?” Cesare responded absently, all too aware of how soft she felt against his hardness.

She touched him with her scarred hands. “This.”

Interlacing fingers with her, Cesare pulled her back into his chest. He held his mouth next to the hole that used to be her ear, his breath whispering across ravaged skin. “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

“Only to you, Cesare,” Anastasia said softly, fingers fumbling with his.

“You’re wrong, I see the way men look at you.”

Anastasia laughed. “Oh, I’m sure. Now that I’m crippled, they think they can spread my legs with just a few words. After all, looking like this I must be desperate. No Cesare, they don’t want me. They just think I’m easy meat.”

Arms tightening, he enfolded her protectively. He knew she’d reject him as soon as she was back on her feet, but that was later. “Well … that’s guys for you. You still got me, princess.”

“Promise me. Tell me, I’ll always have you. Always.”

Kissing the top of her head, his words were quiet and intense. “You’ll always have me, princess. Until the oceans run dry and the sky burns, until everything in me is dead and ash.”

“You’ll never know how much that means to me. Never know how much … by the Darkness, Cesare, I regret so much …”

“Bad decisions make for good stories, but shitty lives,” Cesare said. “Let’s get you ready for your day.”

She held his hands, unwilling to be moved. “You don’t believe in sorry, and I can’t take back the pain I’ve dealt you. But Cesare, I know I can be a good friend. You’re still here and so am I. I treasure our friendship.”

“Life isn’t about being perfect, princess; it’s about controlling your crazy,” Cesare said.

“My brand of crazy got you gutted.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. Cesare didn’t believe in sorry. He believed love isn’t how you feel, it’s what you do. She’d hurt him and stood aside as others had done worse. He couldn’t forgive that. To forgive it would be to lose a part of himself, but he could add it to the book that was their story. To end it on that chapter would have made it a tragedy, and he had his fill of that.

Instead, he could understand and guard against it, make plans for when she turned on him. He could protect himself by not giving her any more of his heart than he already had. That’s the choice he’d made, because she was a friend—not a good one, but still a friend. She had a hook in his heart, so deep even being gutted couldn't pull it out.

Cesare had just gotten her ready in pink sweats and a teal shirt when a knock came at the door. “Come in!” He called out.

Elizabeth swept the room with a quick look as she walked in. She hadn’t visited since that first day. While Cesare was friends with Anastasia, Elizabeth barely tolerated her. There was no friendship to mitigate the appalling things Anastasia had done, no way Elizabeth could forgive and forget what Anastasia had watched happen.

That made it even stranger that she’d offered to help the akatharton today. “So, how did this come about?” Cesare asked, with no little suspicion.

Elizabeth’s smile widened. “We made a deal. In return for my help, Alexandra and Anastasia agreed that I get your first and last dance.”

“I’ll be out here reading, call if you need me.” There was no way Anastasia would be okay with him leaving the two alone. While he trusted Elizabeth, Anastasia didn’t.

Elizabeth’s hand snagged Cesare as he walked past, bringing him in for a tight hug. “Not so fast, hot stuff.”

They were so different. Anastasia was fit and trim, her body young and supple. Holding her was like holding a burning flame, equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. Elizabeth was like coming home. Welcoming him inside her arms, her soft body yielded to his. He placed a hand on the small of her back, the other seeking through her hair until he found the back of her neck. Laying her head on his shoulder, they held each other tight.

She was the Earth. She grounded him in ways he’d never known and kept him from flying apart. You don’t notice the ground you walk on until you’re free falling. It seems he’d been free falling his whole life until he met her. She was his solid place to stand.

He sighed and clutched her close, wanting to take this moment with him when he left. She was the home he’d always wanted, the partner that understood how much loneliness had scarred his soul, but he’d be leaving soon and there was no place for her in that world, just as there was no place for him in her world.

Pulling away after uncounted minutes, Elizabeth looked at him with worried eyes. “You looked like you needed a hug. You okay?”

“Of course.” And he was. After all, it was only life. He’d deal with it as he always had.

Cesare curled up on the bed with his book. It had been a long months since he had the time to read something that wasn’t schoolwork. There was one sharp knock at the door before Alexandra walked in.

“Commander.” She gave him a quick nod on the way to the bathroom. From where he was, he couldn’t see what they were doing, but it seemed to be accompanied by a lot of talking.

“Cesare, can you get dressed? We’re running late,” Elizabeth called out. The three women had spent hours coming and going. The dresses had arrived only a day before, and Cesare had yet to see them.

It only took him a few minutes to get dressed. Like he’d told them, the best clothes he had were his school uniform. It was nice of Kali to offer, but he wouldn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. He wouldn’t hide who or what he was. That didn’t mean he hadn’t washed and ironed the clothes he had.

Elizabeth came out first in a dress of blue silk and velvet. It was long, ghosting a bare inch above the floor. Black lace made patterns of ravens and trees that danced as she walked. A corset of black and electric blue silk hugged her shape, breasts plump and inviting, waist cinched tight before flaring out above her wide hips. Her bare shoulders and arms showed off milky white skin spider webbed by blue veins.

The goth was strong with this one: black lips lightly dusted with sliver glitter, warm bedroom eyes highlighted with crimson. The hair he loved fell in shimmering waves of sable. She was a dark dream, his dark dream. Soft as velvet, her presence soothed him in the way only the night could.

Shy and uncertain, she watched him from the threshold of the bathroom. “You’re gorgeous. I … I’m so lucky to have you with me.”

Her smile sent darts of color along her lips as she walked over to him, fingers trailing through his hair in a gentle caress. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

Alexandra stalked out in her dress with the casual disregard of those born to money. Cesare felt poorer just looking at it. He shook the unworthy thoughts away.

The color of blood fresh from the vein, it fell in folds of shimmering scarlet. Simple and elegant, it danced with liquid, bloody hunger all its own. The dress hugged her long legs, the conservative slit up the side showing the hardened muscles of a trained fighter. Clinging to her figure, scarlet thread showcased massive shoulders, rippling arms of strength and a narrow, hard core of steel. Conservatively cut, it showed only a slice of cleavage. Hair burning with the sun's glory ran down her back in a braid of intricate beauty, a grace that breathed its own life.

She was power given lethal flesh as she strode across the room, a panther in human form. Deadly and murderous, she was the wildness that looked back at you from a lion’s eyes.

“Wow.” Cesare said, moving over her form with his eyes. “Umm … Wow.”

Her lips widened into a satisfied smile. “Thanks. You look nice too.”

“You don’t look nice, Alexandra. You look … wow.” Her smile widened. He reached out and lightly caressed Elizabeth’s hand while he directed a smile her way. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Truly, they were such different women, you couldn’t compare them.

Alexandra took his other side, sharing a smile with Elizabeth, but Cesare kept his eyes on the door. Running her fingers along the wall, she made her own way out. It was black, if black were a shimmering pool of iridescence. The dress was a shining ebony, rainbows radiating away from the folds as she walked.

It enveloped her form like a shadow in love. The way it hugged her curves softened and bled the edges out of them, making what might have been sexy into something sensual. The fabric draped along her body in silken folds and, like the other two dresses, left her arms bare.

Hiding her scars, opera gloves of silk and lace covered her forearms. A mask of glossy black sheathed her tortured face. The mask was a perfect rendering of her face before the attack. Carefully woven peacock's feathers made a cap of hair that ran down her back in a waterfall of rainbow colors. She was a vision of otherworldly beauty.

Cesare took her hands in his. “You’re beautiful, even with the mask on.”

They all laughed as Anastasia gripped his hands tightly. “Only you could get away with that kind of shameless flattery, but then, you’re the only one crazy enough to mean it.”

He wheeled Anastasia out of the infirmary with Elizabeth on one side and Alexandra on the other. It was nice to have them all here with him, to be surrounded by the one’s he’d bled for. But he couldn’t give himself even this one moment without poisoning it with thoughts of the street.

The dresses the two girls wore cost more than a decent car and they wore them with the casualness of long familiarity. Those dresses would only be worn this one night and then put away for the memories. It was beyond him. He could never offer them that. Not in a million years could he make the kind of money to buy them dresses like that.

Elizabeth was a dream: solid, smart, and beautiful. He was just a steppingstone for her, someone to help her believe in herself. Once she realized she was so much more than those who made fun of her, she’d leave him. Realizing her own worth, she would recognize his worthlessness. But for tonight, it was nice to be surrounded by his dreams—even if that only showed him how impossible those dreams were.

The colossal doors of glossy black stood open, silver fittings reflecting and distorting the images of the students who passed through them. Nothing had changed in the room of endless light. This wasn’t a place for transitory decorations or gaudy festivals. When you came to this room, you thanked it for letting you grace its halls. 

Towering crystal monsters, alive with rainbow light, glared down at the students who milled around their feet. Cesare quickly noticed he was the only one wearing his school uniform. Being surrounded by the deadliest of creatures kept anyone from saying a word, but it was there in their eyes and smirks.

The women dazzled. Elizabeth looked better than any woman who’d come to the ball. A few girls had tried the gothic look, but next to Elizabeth’s practiced hand and gifted soul, they were little more than cheap shadows against the glory of midnight. Her dress flashed with glaring ravens, trees dancing in the background, eyes shaded with a red that captivated. She was unsettling and powerful, a work of art from finger tips to darkling hair. Owning a confidence that couldn't be faked.

Despite that, it was Anastasia and Alexandra that drew the envious stares. Their hand tailored dresses stood out in this sea of one-upmanship. The designs flattered already gorgeous bodies, creating an insurmountable advantage. The fabrics, exotic and magical, were expensive in a way beyond even the golden children and their gilded parents.

Few people look good naked. It’s just a fact of life. Small, big, skinny, or fat, we are a race of the ugly, with only a few blessed by chance with a body that’s truly beautiful naked. Somewhere inside, we know it. We deal with it by hiding behind the clothes we wear. The wise understand that we’re all ugly and don’t bother caring about what they can’t change.

Anastasia and Alexandra were different. You knew by looking at them, that they were of the few, the blessed who looked better naked than with clothes on. That was only the tip of the iceberg. Beautiful, powerful, and rich … it was enough to contemplate a sharp knife and a dark night.

The men stared. The same ones who’d looked at Anastasia with disgust now watched with raw lust, a desperate need to do anything to get closer to her lush body. The raw sexuality that was her birthright enthralled them with brutal ease. They hungered for the stygian desires she embodied, thirsted for the poisonous needs only she could feed. But none of them wanted her, not her mind or her soul. To them, she was just a fantasy, only flesh to use.

Alexandra had her own admirers. Her curves weren’t as lush, but neither was she without them. Those who watched her were different from the ones lusting for Anastasia. Alexandra had nothing of softness about her. She was coiled power and dangerous grace. Hardened muscles rolled along her shoulders and arms, tendons standing along her forearms. The slit up her dress showed thighs carved from stone. She was a walking challenge to every male, a silent question demanding an answer from their male pride. Could they conquer her?

Elizabeth, despite their hate for her, drew her own crowd of wanton men and boys. The other two were still girls, new to their bodies and the affect they had on others. Despite their gifts, they were inexperienced in the game of the sexes. Elizabeth knew every step in the dance. Her curves and walk were mature, promising experience without the pretense of games. She was a full, sexual being, comfortable with her power. That confidence was as heady a draw as the perfect curves of Anastasia.

“I have to chaperone this monstrosity, so I want my first dance now,” Elizabeth said as they picked a table. Cesare helped Anastasia into her seat while her wheelchair fit nicely into the fifth spot at the table. He didn’t think anyone would be dropping by to share the event with them.

The dance floor was empty, the boys and girls forming a perimeter around the no-man's-land. The boys regarded the wasteland with terror. Their pride meant more to them than any points they might gain by asking a girl to dance.

The girls looked around in pathetic need, their dreams crashing and burning around them. They wanted to dance and have a good time. They’d come hoping for romance and found boys huddled into herds of cowardice.

All eyes tracked Cesare and Elizabeth as they walked confidently onto the dance floor. What was there to fear? They despised him, their lips dripped with venomous words and malice. He could be the worst dancer in the world, and it wouldn’t change their opinion. Elizabeth was beyond their petty thoughts; she’d been that age but wasn’t that age anymore. She’d dance alone if she had to, but tonight, she and Cesare had each other.

The song was an old one, young when Vegas was just being built. The crooning voice of Ol’ Blue Eyes pulled the steps from Cesare’s memory. Elizabeth followed his lead easily, surprise and happiness flooding her face at his easy familiarity with the dance.

“You’re good.” Elizabeth smiled as they swayed across the dance floor with practiced grace. The other couples who’d mustered the courage to dance fled the floor in embarrassment. No one wanted to be fumbling around while another couple was gracefully gliding by.

“Comes from a classical education.”

“A classical education, huh?” Elizabeth asked.

“The School of Hard Knocks.” They both laughed as he dipped her, bringing her back up with ease. People thought it was hard to move a woman on the dance floor, but with a good partner, it was beautiful.

“You’re pretty good yourself,” Cesare added.

“I love dancing. You wouldn’t know it from looking at me with my big ass, but I like to be out on the dance floor. It’s just finding a partner that’s hard.” Her smile dimmed a little as memories crowded her eyes.

“You don’t get many offers? I thought you chaperoned most of the dances.” Cesare slowed down as the music shifted, pulling her close in response, the steps slow and intricate.

“Oh, I do. I get pushed into it every year because they all know I don’t have a life … no boyfriend, no plans … so, I’m the sure bet to give up my holiday. Once I’m here, I spend most of my time watching for fights. The students see me as a teacher and the other teachers look at me like a leper. As you can imagine, my dance card remains empty,” Elizabeth explained.

The song ended, but Cesare kept hold of her as the next number started up. They had the floor to themselves, with everyone watching. It wasn’t just that they were so much better than the kids, although that was a fair amount of it, it was that they were two social lepers dancing in full view. From the school's perspective, the two of them should at least have the decency to suck.

“Another?” Cesare asked, already moving to the music.

“You’re either a very good thing for me or my next mistake.” Smiling, she went along with it. She was enjoying it too much to care about the crowd forming around the dance floor as news of their dancing spread through the room. Whispers ran in waves through the students as they watched. Teachers glared, silent sentinels of disapproval.

“You haven’t decided yet?” Cesare asked. “Which am I, a very good thing or a mistake?”

“I think you should head back to our table. You came with the two most beautiful girls here and they’re not the easygoing type,” Elizabeth said, changing the subject. She didn’t want to spoil this moment by talking about anything serious.

“I think they’ll be okay with me spending time with my friend,” Cesare said dryly.

“Not even a bit.” Despite her words, she swayed with easy grace, making no move to end the dance.

“Three,” Cesare said.

“What?” Her face flushed, sweat beading along her brow. Her hair blew around her as they picked up the pace.

“Three. I came with the three most beautiful women, not two,” Cesare said, dipping her low as the song finished.

Her eyes locked on his lips as he brought her up slowly. “Definitely trouble. You’re weapon grade trouble,” Elizabeth whispered.

A wicked grin spread across his face, eyes lighting with desire and raw lust. His voice changed, becoming reminiscent of sweat slicked bodies, tangled sheets, want in the dark, and infinite release. “Oh, but what trouble it is.”

Meeting his eyes, a tremble ran through her as desire flooded her eyes. With visible force, she let go of him. “I need some cold water and air.” She took a step back as he made to follow. “Don’t. If you follow me, I'll do something we can’t come back from. I won’t take the chance. We could lose everything if we’re caught.”

“You’ll never take that chance,” Cesare said flatly.

“No, I won’t. This is my life, Cesare. I’m not gambling that on any boy.” She moved away. Cesare glared at her back for one hot, scarlet second, before stalking in the opposite direction.

It always came down to what she had to lose. Her entire life revolved around this pit of stone and spite. Going to school here had led to college, and then coming back as a teacher. It had taken decades of work to get where she was and if the teachers caught them in so much as a kiss those years were meant less than butchered meat.

Cesare understood the reasons, could see what she had to lose by being with him. He got it, but that didn’t change how it hurt. The woman he wanted wouldn’t be with him because her job was more important to her than being with him.

When Cesare got back to their table, the two girls were talking quietly as men—both students and teachers—prowled around them with hungry eyes. Sex made them stupid. Alexandra could paint the walls with their blood without breaking a sweat, while Anastasia could burn the castle down around their ears. What might work in the world of humans was nothing but stupidity in the world of monsters.

Cesare broke into their conversation. “Do you want to get food now?”

Alexandra looked around at the drooling idiots who were stalking the table. “I think food would be nice.” Anastasia nodded in quick agreement. She couldn’t see the men, but she could feel their slow circling.

Cesare helped Anastasia up, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her into his side. Anastasia leaned into him, her own arm encircling his waist lower than usual as her fingers danced across the top of his butt.

Alexandra took the other arm. Crooking his elbow, she laid her hand on it. “This is how a gentleman escorts a woman.” He vaguely remembered Kali giving the same lesson.

They went through the line, filling plates from dozens of dishes and delicacies flown in for the balls. There was no end to the exotic, horrors gleefully eyed fey meats and poisonous foods tailored to their monstrous needs. As they stepped back from table, he hesitated as he noticed the drink counter was wall to wall students.

A quick run of the percentages on getting out of the pit without the girls killing someone stopped him in his tracks. Going into that mass of bodies without being able to see the faces around you would be hell. That kind of fear would draw the Ebon Flame to the world, eager to burn and feed. Alexandra hated people at the best of times, and it would only take one misplaced hand for her to rip an arm off as an abject lesson to the others.

He left Anastasia with Alexandra and braved the crowd alone. Working his way through the people wasn’t so bad. Finishing his order, he stood next to Sarah and Jerold in the cue for drinks.

Jerold had chosen black on black for the night. The sable of his suit and silken black shirt a stark contrast to his corpse pale skin and white blond hair. Cold radiated from him, the perfection of a sterile soul, brutally wed to perfection.

A gossamer gown of snow white caressed Sarah’s curves with loving hands. It was a dress that never went out of style, made more beautiful by her caramel skin. Elegant and simple, she radiated a quiet confidence.

Smiling, she turned to Cesare. “You looked wonderful on the dance floor. Where did you learn to dance so well?”

Looking away from the exotic teacher, Cesare cast a longing glance back at Anastasia and Alexandra. They kept close to each other, talking with their backs toward the circling men. A small, tight smile crossed his face at the sight. They hated each other, but they hated the world more. Turning back to the teacher, Cesare answered the question. “The same way I learned everything I know. I had it beaten into me.” Sarah’s smile disappeared from her face. His tone was simple and calm, devoid of humor.

“I’m sorry, I forget sometimes that some of our students come from difficult backgrounds. I can always use another set of hands over Winter Break for the dancing class, if you’re interested,” Sarah offered.

Cesare gave Jerold a small smirk. “Looks like your ice in shining armor hasn’t told you, but I won’t be here for Winter Break.”

Sarah looked back and forth between the two men. “Forgive me, but I thought you had nowhere to go. I was under the impression you had no family. Unless one of your friends has invited you to spend it with them?”

Cesare’s lips stretched into a feral smile. “No. I was told I wasn’t welcome here for Winter Break. I plan to go back to the streets.” Sarah’s eyes widened in horror. “But Jerold knows all about that since he's the one pushing it through.”

Sarah faced the ice man. “Tell me you didn’t do this.”

Swallowing nervously, Jerold’s eyes darted toward Cesare in anger. “It’s not how he makes it sound. I believe, and the Mistress agrees, given the recent events and his level of involvement, that it would be better to let the situation cool off.”

“You’re sending a kid to live on the streets because we stood by and watched as he was beat like a drum and gutted like a fish? And the Mistress agrees? Don’t give me that shit, Jerold. That creature doesn’t have a feeling bone in her body. She would agree to slaughtering the kids to sell to the vampires if you gave her a convincing argument. This has you written all over it,” Sarah hissed. White streaks threaded her black hair as her true nature bled through the lie of humanity.

“Well, this has been fun. Let’s do this … like, never.” Cesare took his drinks and left. The other students had cleared out a space around the two teachers, no one wanting to get between the golden couple.

He reached the girls just in time to escort them to the table before the vultures tried their luck. By now, Anastasia didn’t even reach for her food until Alexandra had said grace. While she never said “Amen” or offered any acknowledgment that anything was said, she still kept a respectful silence.

Alexandra moved through the selection of animals on her plate: pig, cow, fish, and chicken. She relished each bite, devouring them with the cruel relish of a predator. Cesare wondered whether it was because she was a vampire or just because she was a carnivore to the bone.

Anastasia, with his help, had picked out mostly finger foods. Cesare set his chair next to hers, his arm settling across her bare shoulders. Her arm wound around his waist, turning her body toward his and resting her hand on his thigh. Feelings rushed through him every time he held her like this. Possessive and wanton, needy and hungry, not only lust but a primal need to own, to never let her go because she was the only thing that filled the empty.

He always made sure he fed her first before he started on his food. It wasn’t because she couldn’t wait, it was that he couldn’t wait to feed her. The pleasure and happiness he got from the intimate act outweighed his hunger.

“You want to dance?” Cesare asked Anastasia after he finished the last bite on his plate.

Anastasia took a deep breath. “Yes, but … I’m scared to. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

Cesare helped her up, their arms never leaving each other. “Impossible. Nothing you can do would embarrass me.”

A slow song played as they reached the dance floor. It was perfect for a woman who couldn’t see and needed to be held close. She was warm and soft, breasts pushing against his chest, hips deliciously curved and supple in his hands as they swayed together to the music. They didn’t move much, but they didn’t need to.

For Cesare, this was so much more than a dance. With Elizabeth, it had been fun, but the lies they lived had poisoned the moment. A part of him, a big part, wanted her to either break off their friendship or move over that edge they walked. She didn’t like him that way, but it still hurt to hide how he felt. It hurt even more that Elizabeth wanted him to hide it, demanded he hide it.

Being with Anastasia was uncomplicated. They were just two kids having fun, on that line between being old enough to do what they want and yet not too old to fear the pain. He was free to hold her close and breath in the smell of jasmine, hands on her hips, fingers splayed so he could feel the gentle swell of her ass.

“I love the way you smell. Fresh jasmine. From the first time I held you that time in training … it’s always stuck in my head,” Cesare whispered into the peacock feathers that made up her hair.

Snuggling tighter, she burrowed into his chest in raw want. She wasn’t even trying to keep her hands safe. Moving with single minded purpose from his hips, she cupped his butt firmly. “Only you can hold a woman and say the thing you remember the most is the way she smells.”

“So says the woman with wandering hands,” Cesare said with a laugh.

She spoke the muffled words into his chest as they swayed. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch you. You …” Swallowing, she continued. “… don’t mind, do you?”

“Princess, no one minds a beautiful woman touching them,” Cesare answered. “How’s the mask?”

Her breath eased out in a relieved sigh, hands settling comfortably on his butt. “It's fine. Mother had it made. She knows a guy who makes them for a big Masquerade Ball every year. I was a little scared I’d be sweating under it, but it’s cool and soft. Not sure how he does it, but when you spend as much as she did, you get miracles.” She went silent, weighing how much she wanted to say. “I wanted to look like someone you’d be proud to be with, not the deformed thing you’ve been stuck with.”

He kissed the side of her face where just a sliver of her real skin could be seen, translucent and inflamed red. “You’re not deformed. And you’re not a thing. I never stopped being proud to be with you. Even if you were never proud to be with me.”

“I was a shit. I can’t go back and change it, no matter how much I wish I could. So, this is me telling you, that you're the only guy I want to dance with. And I’m proud to be your date,” Anastasia said, lifting her head to look up at him.

Walking back to the table, her hand slipped down to cup his butt cheek. “This going to be a regular thing?” Cesare asked, smiling down at Anastasia.

Giggling, she tilted her head to look where she thought his face was. “You just said no one minds a beautiful woman touching them.”

“People are going to get ideas, you know,” Cesare warned.

“Fuck ‘em.” The words were cold and hard, the finality of a casket locking shut. “They haven’t done shit for me. They didn’t help me when I needed them. No one helped me but you. I don’t care if they think I’m your fucking whore. I like touching you and … as long as you don’t mind, I’m going to keep doing it.” Stopping, she asked quietly. “Is this about Miss Raven?”

How would he feel if he caught a guy with his hand on Elizabeth’s ass? He’d skin the bastard, starting with his cock, roll him in salt and feed him feet first into a wood chipper. That was if he was feeling generous. Even if she wasn’t his, would never be his. None of that had anything to do with how he felt.

He loved Elizabeth, but she’d made it clear she didn’t think of him that way. In every way, Elizabeth called the shots: how far they went, what time they spent together and how they would spend that time. She decided everything.

He wanted to be with her. She meant more to him than he wanted, but did that mean he could wait for her? Was he willing to pass up the happiness he could carve from today on the hope she might see more than starved boy with dirt on his paws? The answer was a simple no.

Anastasia gave him time to decide. His own hand slid down to take a hold of her firm ass as she squeaked in startled pleasure. “Only if I get the same permissions?”

Her mask hid the smile, but it came through in her voice. “Deal.”

“And what happens when you get yourself another boy toy, princess? No way is he going to like this.” He gave her ass a good squeeze. It was firm and strong, with the right amount of give to fill his hand. Gods, how he’d dreamed of getting his hands on her ass. Training session after training session, he’d thought of that beautiful ass in those spandex pants and here it was, molding into his hand.

“No more boy toys for me,” Anastasia said firmly. She turned away from his face, blind, yet the habit persisted. “I’m looking to trade up in the relationship game.”

Cesare didn’t want to think about her with another man. He wanted her to be his. This past month had only cemented that for him. He couldn’t have her, but that didn’t change how he felt about her. She was an addiction in his blood, a craving he couldn’t shake—didn’t want to shake. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms, feel her wrapped around his body when they ate. He wanted to kiss her goodbye, even when it was just him going across the room. He couldn’t have any of it, and it never stopped hurting.

“Well … no matter what, I’m with you, princess,” Cesare whispered.

“I know. And you’ll never know how much I need you or how much you mean to me,” Anastasia whispered back.

Alexandra and Elizabeth looked up as they broke away from the crowd, their eyes narrowing on where the couple’s hands were. Anastasia was carefully set back in her spot, Cesare securing a promise from Elizabeth that she’d stay at the table until he got back. Getting the promise he needed, Cesare held his hand out in a silent invitation to Alexandra.

She flowed to her feet, the crimson dress molding to her muscled frame. Walking hand in hand, they made for the dance floor. Students and teachers alike moved well out of her way. It wasn’t a surprise that she was the best dancer he’d brought.

Elizabeth had been fun. She knew what she was doing and enjoyed it. That simple joy and excitement lent her a beauty all her own. He and Anastasia had slow danced by necessity. It had been intimate, but not the greatest way to see how well a person danced.

Alexandra was a professional, her body flexible and unbelievably strong. Moving her around the dance floor was effortless, the slightest pressure had them shifting like mercury. Alexandra’s face flushed with happiness, a savage joy bleeding out of her eyes. Students and teachers alike deserted the floor, opening space for them.

Quiet fell across the crowd with only whispers breaking up the pregnant silence. There was no place for anyone in this moment but him and Alexandra. They moved together to the music, neither of them caring for anyone but each other. It was so like sparring that he couldn’t help reaching for that magical feeling. Calm flowed through him, desire and pleasure weaving a mystical net that freed them as much as it bound them. They knew each other so well after hours of sparring that it was child’s play to transfer it to dancing.

“You two got close,” Alexandra stated. The moment expanded to allow speech, something neither had ever wanted or needed before.

“Well, we have been sleeping together,” Cesare said with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.

She shook her head slightly without missing a step. “I thought your feelings laid elsewhere, Commander.”

“You really want to do this now?” Cesare asked, supporting her as she pivoted on one foot. A stubborn look crossed Alexandra’s face. “Okay, I guess we’re going to do this now. Yes, I have feelings for another and I still plan to pursue that.” Alexandra nodded in understanding, no names needed to be said here. “But I won’t, can’t, sacrifice today for the maybe of tomorrow. I can’t, and won’t, ask her permission for everything in my life. I can’t live that way, killer.”

Alexandra sighed. “I’m on your side, Commander. I don’t care which you pick. All I care about is you. Anastasia has never been on your side while the other has stood on the fence and helped you only when she had nothing to lose. Frankly Commander, I’d ditch both and find another. Neither are good bets.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got everything a man wants.” Heat swept up her cheeks at his comment. “Some of us are more challenged. Nothing is going to happen between me and Anastasia. Sure, she let me touch her ass and I had fun, but I’m never going to be her boyfriend or even in the running. I’ve got nothing to offer her. No money. No class. No power. No education. And no future. I’m just a diversion until she gets better. I knew that going into it.”

Watching him, Alexandra responded quietly, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who had more to offer than you.”

Looking down, he watched as their feet moved in and out of the steps. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.” Stopping, he swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat. “But to people like Anastasia, I’m just a stepping stone, something to move over and beyond.” He shrugged. “And I’m okay with that.”

“And Elizabeth?” Alexandra asked.

“If I were older. If I wasn’t her student. If I was less damaged. If I fit into her world. Lots and lots of ifs. I just don’t know, but as long as she can lose her job over me, we’ll never find out. If it’s between me and her job, I’ll lose every time. What do I do with that? Be second best for the rest of my life, chasing after a woman who will never put me first?”

Quietly, they finished the dance as the crowd erupted in applause. Neither cared, their eyes were only for each other. “Some would say that being second, is better than not being at all,” Alexandra pointed out.

“Would you do it?” He asked, holding out his arm for her. She took his arm gently as she glanced at him and away.

“I don’t know. It depends on the prize,” Alexandra said. “I’d rather be second place in the Olympics, then first place at high school.”

“We’re not talking sports, but love. Could you be second place in a man’s heart? Could you live with the fact that he loved something more than you?” Cesare asked.

“You will never be first in anyone’s heart, Cesare. What person will give up their God for you? Or their family? How about children? Or even comfort? How many will follow a person into poverty? People don’t love that way. You will never be first, you may not even be in top ten.” Alexandra peppered him with questions as they slowed to finish their conversation before joining the others. “And what about the all-important sex? How many people will give up sex? I don’t mean because of crippling illness; I mean the one you love decides they just don’t want sex. How many stay for that?”

“I would,” Cesare said.

“I know. Partly because you don’t have anything and partly because you are … you. So, tell me Cesare, if I were in danger, what would you sacrifice for me?” Alexandra asked, looking him straight in the eye.

“Anything but three things.…” Cesare began.

Smiling, Alexandra cut him off. “Miss Raven, Anastasia, and Lady Kali.” Cesare’s eyes widened. “I’m not stupid, Commander. I watch you, probably more than you think, or is healthy. You would sell your soul for any of us. This place is your future, it’s your last chance to get a diploma and move on with your life. Without it, you’re looking at back alleys and cardboard homes.”

“Even with that hanging over your head, you’ve helped Anastasia until you’re more than half out the door. She got you gutted, and all you did was pick up your slimy bits and go back to helping her. You faced monsters that could bury you without blinking to stay at my side. You lost your guts to protect something that meant nothing to you because I loved it. And I know you’ve shed gallons of blood to be with Miss Raven. You don’t judge the strength of a man’s love by his feelings, you judge it by his actions. It’s easy to love and hard to bleed.”

“So, I should be realistic that I’ll never be number one to anyone?” Cesare asked, muscles tightening and shifting along his shoulders and back as he ground the words out.

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Alexandra sounded as lost as Cesare felt. “Maybe this is more for me than you.”

Later, they walked out into the garden, both Anastasia and Alexandra wanting to escape the leering looks and stifling hot room. The air bit along the skin with winter's love, the cold wind tearing the perfumed heat from the air.

Green and verdant, the garden was filled with plants that lived in the cradle of Elizabeth’s power. The small ones flourished in the jaws of winter. Delicate flowers that only bloomed for a bare month overflowed with life, defying the north wind with joyful abandon.

Purple and violet the night-blooming flowers were delicate things of lacy life. Without compare in the world of light, the midnight plants birthed to darkness were elegant beings of shadow. The palest of shades, with only faint wisps of their scent threading the air, they possessed stems as fragile as glass.

Stone paths wound through the flower beds, the cracks filled in with green ground cover dotted with blue blossoms. Even with the smooth ground, Anastasia stayed molded to his side, her feverish warmth stripping the cold from his skin.

Clothed in liquid blood, the darkness turned Alexandra’s scarlet dress to black. Her hand rested possessively on Cesare’s other arm while she matched him step for step. Vampiric eyes pierced the darkness with eerie clarity, scanning the garden for threats. She was ready and willing to water the plants with blood should someone seek to harm Cesare.

Voices broke through the frozen quiet that permeated the place. “… sure there’s nothing going on between you?” Sarah’s voice came from ahead of them along the path. Not wanting to intrude, Cesare made to turn around.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Elizabeth said.

Cesare stopped, unsure. Anastasia and Alexandra stilled in the night, waiting for his choice. He could feel that this conversation was about him, but did he want to know what they were saying? The shadow of Fate’s Razor rested on his neck, the surety of pain to come.

“I’m not blind, Elizabeth. I saw you dancing. I mean, it’s funny, the way his eyes light up when you walk into a room. We've all gotten a laugh at his desperate fumbling’s around you. He's like a puppy with shit on his feet, trying to be a big dog,” Sarah continued.

The words tore something delicate and precious inside him. He should've guessed that knowing was only a step away from degrading. The world knew how he felt and it couldn’t resist smearing his love with shit. That it was the teachers didn’t surprise him, had they laughed while he’d been bled out too? He was a joke, a bit of nothing to laugh at in between class, a pitiful thing alone in a world of tribes.

“But when you were dancing, it almost looked like you might feel something for him.” Sarah paused, searching the other woman’s face before continuing, “It’s not like he’s ugly ... well, not really. He’s got the charm of a mutt, starving and smelly, but just so earnest you can’t help patting him on the head. But no one takes the stinky dog home. It’s funny that he feels that way about you and good for a laugh, but if you feel something for him … that’s more serious.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my student, and a boy at that. Even if I swung that way, which you know I don’t, you think I want a boy barely out of puberty? All fumbling fingers and bumbling need? You think I’m looking for a thirty second wonder?” The two laughed as their voices came closer. “You should know me better than that. Now Anastasia, that’s something I could go for … so much better than a stick starved boy.” They came around the corner in mid-laugh, stopping dead at the sight of the three students, their laughter strangled by horror.

The winter cold fled from Anastasia’s blast furnace heat. Ground cover blackened under her feet. Cesare felt the Ebon Flame surging just underneath her skin, leaping and clawing to get out. The raw fury hungering to burn this garden of wonder to ash.

Alexandra was dangerously silent, poised on the balls of her feet. Pulling bloody violence around herself with casual disregard, a low, homicidal hiss of hate sounded from between her fangs. Ghastly and gaunt, she was fixed on the two teachers, long, needle-sharp fangs dimpling her lower lip.

Sarah’s face ran hot with embarrassment at having been caught out. Opening her mouth, she shut it just as quickly. What was there to say? That the teachers made fun of their students behind their backs? As far as shocking revelations, that was right up there with the sky being blue—but it’s one thing to know and another to hear yourself being torn down by them.

Cold ran through his body, even as Anastasia’s blistering heat drew hot sweat from his skin. This was his truth. This was what it meant to be him, laughed at and degraded, nothing and no one. Just another piece of garbage, his existence a mockery of what others had. His only purpose was as a lesson of what not to be.

He couldn’t look at Elizabeth, unsure if he would cry or go for his knife. He turned slowly as if he'd bleed out if he moved too fast. Alexandra wrapped her arm around him, uncaring that it mimicked Anastasia. Holding him up, they kept him moving. He was done with this place and its poisonous vipers.

---

First before others, I give thanks to my patrons, JustSomePug, Creep, and Belblade. This trinity of people make it possible for me to write. Yes, I wrote before I had them. Yes, I'd write without them. But I wouldn't feel as good about it, have as much hope, or be driven to put out content. While you may do something you love without having anyone believe in you, it can't be compared to doing it with the backing of people who think your worth investing in. Thank you.

Special thanks go to ....

Hoarder of Knowledge, Keeper of the Keys, Reader of the Books, Youdontneedtoknow

My Brother, My Best Friend, The Man Who Always Has Back, Belblade

Knower of the Plot, Seer of the Future, Eternal How'd He Know That, Soundion

Sneeky McSneek Face, Blox 'See, its short'

Ender of Times, Silencer of Screams, Cutter of False Words, Sayanora

Walker of Strange Places, Few Reader of the Fey and Strange, Lover of the Mangled, Xriter

One more chapter and Book 1 is done. The last chapter will be posted in the next three day as soon as the book goes live on Kindle. There will be an update to my posting schedule and some bits and bobs you might be interested in.