The wind whips her hair across her face, and then her eyes meet mine as her lips part into that lightning-flash smile. She strides swiftly across the roof towards me, and I speed up to meet her.
She reaches out, and I throw myself into her embrace—breathing in her scent as though my lungs are starved for it. Leather and fir trees, rain and ozone. One of the most wonderful scents in the entire world. By this point, I’m even able to separate it from the scent of her blood. To temper my body’s reaction enough that love and lust overcomes hunger. When she pulls away at last, she looks down at me with a glow in her eyes. Eyes that are violet, ringed with fuchsia around the pupils.
"You're not wearing your contacts," I say, surprised.
She shakes her head, dismissing it.
"You're beautiful." Her gaze takes me in from head to to toe. "I love the dress."
"You can only see half of it right now," I say, but she just smirks.
"I can see enough to know. Shall we?" She offers her arm, and I take it. In the other I hold a sleek black satchel containing the rest of my outfit for the night, which she offers to carry for me.
"No thank you," I say, smiling a bit. "I've got it."
Inside, Rhaj and Beatrice are waiting, along with Ren the bartender, off duty for the evening. I'm in a sort of blissful haze as we share the night's first few drinks, E.J. and I sit together on one of the smaller couches.
The whole time, I'm unnaturally aware of her leg, hip, and arm where they touch mine, as though the parts of myself where she touches me are the only ones that are properly alive.
Then it's time to head down.
When we get to the Lock and Key we head straight to the mirror-door at the back. Somi's fuchsia eyes flash, and the door swings open, closing again the instant we're through. My lips fall open as I take in the space—which is several times larger than I'd imagined it would be.
"Welcome to Otherside," says E.J, grinning.
Everywhere I look is opulence. The space is many-leveled. The entrance opens onto a raised level, ringed in a wall set with black doors. Every few paces are dark leather couches and tables, adorned with fluffy white fur pillows.
There are candles all over the place, set in silver fixtures studded with moonstones and quartz and onyx, and the lanterns are set with emberstones the color of sparkling wine. The walls are painted silver, but the ceiling is black—aglow with glinting constellations of gem-chip stars.
Edging the interior of the raised outer level, stairs lead down into the space at the center, interspersed at intervals by ramps. There is what I can only describe as a garden—impossible though it should be—with a great pool of silvery water at its center, lit from beneath. What can be seen of the floor is covered with plush dark moss, interspersed with pathways of stone. The rest of the space is filled with hedges and small trees with dark, almost black leaves—many of them abloom with strange flowers the likes of which I've never seen. Amidst all that are more couches and cushions, tables, chairs, and even beds.
To the far end of the chamber, the low space opens into a large alcove, where there are more tables and another bar. Above that and everything else, reached by a stair to one side and an elevator to the other, is another room with a balcony that looks out onto all the rest. Glittering chandeliers hang from its ceiling—but other than that, I can't see what's inside.
We've arrived somewhat early, but already the space is milling with others, their laughter and chatter fills the air, mingling with the music emanating from the small stage over near the bar. Most everyone else has already got their Black Moon masks on, but I think I recognize a few of them nonetheless.
"Those rooms over there are the main washrooms, you can use one of them to get into the rest of your outfit," E.J. says, pointing off to the right.
"Where do the rest of those doors lead?" I ask, indicting the others.
"Oh, those are private play rooms, with more specialized equipment," says E.J, lip curling up to one side. Then she turns on her heel and heads off to one of the private washrooms, and Beatrice drags me to another—leaving Rhaj and Ren behind for now.
~*~
"What do you think?" I ask Beatrice as we stand in front of the huge washing-room mirror, unable to decipher her silence.
"You...you look perfect. Absolutely perfect," she says after a moment, her voice actually breaking as a tear appears at the corner of her eye.
"Beatrice? What's wrong?"
But she just shakes her head and wipes it away as she steps behind me, fussing a bit with my hair and the backing of the mask—leaving me with only myself to look at.
The dress is simple, really. At least, the top half of it is. A gray-black sheath, sleeveless, and with a sweetheart neckline. It hugs my curves, pinching in at the waist and then flaring out at the hips.
The slits in the outer skirt's panels are subtle when I'm still, but in motion the dress transforms. The outer panels flare and flow to the sides, revealing the layers and layers of sheer petticoats beneath. Each one is embroidered with shimmering silver threads in twisting patterns that flow together over their varying shades of dusky lavender, fuschia and blue—creating a dreamlike cloud of shifting color and pattern.
My mask is a glossy black and covers only the top half of my face. Long rabbit's ears extend from the top of it—declaring my intentions. I take a deep, shaky breath, and Beatrice steps back into view, squeezing me to her side in a one-armed hug.
"Don't worry," she says. "Everything's going to be wonderful. Are you ready?"
"Ready as I can be," I say, taking her hand.
By the time we step back out into the main chamber, several more groups have arrived, and the volume's increased significantly. The musicians have picked up their pace, playing something vibrant and darkly enchanting that I don't recognize.
"There they are!" Calls Rhaj, and I look over to see him pointing over at us, sporting a bear mask. A small crowd's gathered around him, most of whom I don't recognize—aside from E.J.
She's wearing a gray suit and a mask with pointed, wolf-like ears and a set of twisting antlers—the mask of Zhadra. Her eyes widen from behind it as she takes in the sight of me. I swallow nervously, squeezing Bee's hand as she calls out to Rhaj and pulls me over to join them.
She lets go of me at last, going over to take Rhaj's arm, radiant in her golden dress and her rabbit's mask that matches mine.
The Black Moon festival has always been my favorite holiday. It's a lot of people's favorite, to be honest. After all, it's the one day you can publicly—if only symbolically—cast aside your every day self to wear the face of whatever it is you most want to be. It's a day of renewal, and the mask you choose represents the kind of year you intend to have, the traits in yourself you mean to bring forward.
In the Otherside scene, as E.J. Explained to me weeks ago, the festival has a special significance. The mask you wear that day isn't a symbolic representation of certain qualities within yourself, but a defiant declaration of your true self—in this case, the role they take on every time they step foot in the club or engage in anything related to it.
Some people in the club do this by casting aside roles entirely, and wear no mask. Others choose masks etched with sigils, rather than baring the traditional features of any of the major spirits. Here on the Otherside, anything goes.
But by choosing Lhura's mask, I'm declaring myself a Lhura to the entire club.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
To E.J.
I'm terrified of how she'll respond.
But when I turn to her, she reaches out to take my hand—and the smile she gives me extends beyond her eyes, infusing her presence with a radiant glow.
My cheeks flush with warmth at the realization.
"Shall we?" She asks, looking down at me. I nod, though I have no idea what she's inviting me to.
"Yes," I breathe.
The next thing I know, my arm's in hers and she's leading me down into the "garden" and towards to the water—which I now realize is covered in glass. Others already drift across the floor, dancing to the otherworldly music.
Sweeping one of my hands upward in hers, she wraps the other around my waist. I've never danced like this before, but somehow it's easy with her as a guide. Or perhaps I'm just so wrapped up in her presence that I'm not aware of how badly I'm doing.
"What are you thinking?" She asks me after a few moment as we spin slowly over the glowing waters. Silvery fish flit about beneath our feet.
Again my cheeks go hot as I tell her. She chuckles.
"You're doing just fine," she says. "I'd never have guessed you'd never done this before,"
"So you don't—don't disapprove?"
"Of what?" She asks, spinning me outward for a moment as the music flares.
The next instant I'm back in her arms, peering up at her. I can feel my brows knitting together.
"I was worried you would think, I don't know, maybe I only chose this for you. The mask, I mean."
"No," she says, her hand settling back onto my waist. "I can't think of a better fit for you than a goddess of change and creative expression. And I trust you."
My stomach flips, and for a moment I feel like I might throw up.
"What is it?" She asks, suddenly concerned. We slow, almost stopping.
"It's just...do you really trust me? Should you? It was my fault my mother found out—"
"That was not your fault, Ashwyn. That was your mother's doing, and my own negligence. It was wrong of me to put that on you, and I'm sorry I did."
I swallow compulsively, saying nothing...but I'm not sure if I can agree with her. As my thoughts start to twist into a darkening spiral, my Umbral energy begins to flare. But I've practiced with this, and I'm ready. I focus on my breathing, the mantra I've held onto now more than ever, even though it was my mother who taught it. No thoughts but darkness. No feelings but calm. The power subsides.
"May I ask you something somewhat private?" I inquire after a few moments of slow circling.
"Yes," she says, "just ask quietly."
"How are you doing with your...with my scent? Is it still so hard for you to be near me?"
A broad smile flashes across her face, dazzling me.
"Oh, I'm doing much better with that. Speaking of which, how did you like my gift?"
"The perfume?" I quirk my head at her, bemused. "I love it. It's wonderful."
"It also specifically designed to counteract some of your more...er, tempting qualities, chemically," she says. "I still think I can be close to you without it, but it makes it so much easier."
I frown up at her. "You gave me perfume to make me less delicious?"
She laughs. "Don't worry Ash, you're still painfully tempting, but in the way that's enjoyable for both of us," she assures me, pulling me in closer. "nothing could stop me from hungering for you."
She spins me away again, pulls me back. "For your touch," another spin. "For your kiss," another spin, and I'm getting dizzy. I cling to her chest as I come back to her. The world's a blur—everything but her, the one solid thing. Her eyes are all I can focus on.
"For you. Always." She dips down and sweeps me into a kiss as the song comes to an end. Everything within me turns warm and golden, like honey with sunlight shining through it.
As she pulls me upright again, the world begins to solidify once more.
E.J. draws from me gently, slowly—her face aglow.
"Let's get some food," she says.
Still too dazzled for words, I just loop my arm in hers and follow her over to the bar and dining alcove and to one of the vacant tables. Somi whirs over to the bar and back, and moments later waiters begin to stream to our table with platter after platter of food. Stuffed squid with white sauce. Scallop stew. Wild hare over mushroom royale. Pies filled with sweet-glazed grilled eel, figs and nuts. Cloud buns full of guava cream. I've never seen so much delicious food all in one place.
Before long, Beatrice, Rhaj and Ren join us, all digging into the feast. When the food is gone we begin to drink, and eventually we get up and drift away from the table, back out and into the crowd. The others go off their own way, but E.J. and I are at each other's sides the entire time. We wander through the "garden," chatting with almost everyone we happen by—or at least, everyone who isn't otherwise occupied. I'm unsurprised to find that everyone here knows E.J, and she knows them all by name in turn.
But there's a direction to our meandering. Gradually, she guides me to a black lacquered pagoda surrounded by bushes with violet flowers, palm fronds and small twisted pines. I take a seat on one of the cushioned benches, expecting her to sit at my side. But instead she kneels before me, taking my hands in both of hers and fixing her gaze on mine.
"Ashwyn Fleetwood," she begins, tone level and serious. My stomach starts doing somersaults. "You've been patient with me, and we've been through so much. My friends have become your friends, my home has become one of yours and you've become a part of it...and still will be, even when you do move out on your own again. You're talented and beautiful and charmingly awkward and powerful. You gave me back my life, and I would do anything for you."
Letting go of my hands, E.J. reaches into her jacket's interior pocket and withdraws something coiled and silvery-white. She holds it out to me.
It's a leash and collar, made of fine, supple leather—treated with something that gives it a metallic sheen.
"I want to be yours, to serve you, worship you, command and obey you in turns, as you will it. I want to be your Zhadra. Will you be my Lhura?"
My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment I forget how to form words. So I just nod, fighting back tears as E.J. reaches up to buckle the collar about her own neck. Then she takes my hands in hers again and places the looped end of the leash in my palms. Something sparks inside me, and suddenly I know exactly what to do. Pulling firm link on the leash, I draw her forward, pressed between my legs, against my chest. Wrapping both arms about her neck, I kiss her. Hard.
In the next instant her arms are around me me too, our lips move like two parts of a greater whole, are bodies pressed so close together they could be one. After a long, long time, I withdraw.
"I want to see one of those private rooms," I whisper. Her eyes flash, and her lip curls upward.
"Then lead the way,"" she says.
I do—and somehow the fact that she's so much taller than me makes me feel even more powerful as I lead her off across the garden at the end of her leash. But the first room I take her to is occupied. And the next. And the next.
"That's all of them," I huff in frustration after working around to the other side of the club, only to find every door locked.
"Then it's a good thing I live right upstairs, isn't it?" Answers E.J, raising an eyebrow as she smirks at me.
She sends Somi out to find Beatrice and the others and let them know we're going back, while she and I go to take off our masks and get our jackets. She leaves the leash on, though—tucking it into her suit vest and covering the collar with a scarf.
We fall on each other again the moment we step into the lift back in her private tower, and when we spill out of it up on the second-highest level, we make it less than a pace before E.J. grabs my shoulders, twisting me about to press my back against the wall. Her lips travel down my jaw to my neck, where her sharp canines graze my skin. Her hands find the zipper of my jacket, and moments later its on the floor.
I snatch away her scarf, pulling the leash free to twist it about my right hand as the other goes up to clutch at her silver hair.
"Oh!" A gasp escapes me as she unexpectedly lifts me up entirely, carrying me easily across the space and over to the door to what I'd come to think of as her play room. Somi chirps at it, and it opens of its own accord, shutting firmly again behind us. Striding over to the massive four-posted bed, she lays me out on it before falling upon me, her lips and teeth finding my neck once more, working their way down to my clavicle, to the softer flesh below.
I let go of her leash now, letting all my fingers tangle in her hair. Then there's a sudden cool, tingling pressure on my thighs as her hands disappear beneath my skirts. Her head follows shortly after, and I moan as her teeth bite gently into my thigh, her hands traveling back to squeeze my ass. My back arches of its own accord as she kisses her way upward.
That's when I notice it—the building swell of Umbral power.
I sit up suddenly, pulling away away and back.
"E.J, I—" another involuntary gasp escapes me as the energy surges, flaring out in an explosive blast of violet light. Seconds later, thunder rolls overhead.
E.J.'s eyes go wide, and she falls back from me. Outside the single narrow stained-glass window, the first responding bolt of Umbral lightning sears the sky. She tries to say something, but the words are lost around her growing fangs and the drool dripping from between them. The next instant, metallic, storm-gray fur erupts across her skin, and her clothes rip and fall away as her form begins to warp and grow.
In the blink of an eye she hurtles across the room to the cage in the corner and shuts herself in. Somi follows, whirring through the air to flash a signal at the cage's intricate lock. It's workings clink into place, securing the enclosure. E.J. growls, the growl turning into a howl as her form bulks up again. Her nails extend into scythe-like claws, her long tail thrashes against the wall and bars as she falls to all fours. Then her eyes snap up to mine, her narrowed pupils expanding suddenly.
Then she throws herself against the bars, trying to reach through them to get to me. But her paws are too big. I'm safe. Going over to the bed, I gather up a bunch of pillows and blankets. Bringing them over to the cage, I make a comfortable spot for myself and lay down on my side, facing her. I stay that way all night, watching as she struggles against the bars and then begins to pace, eventually calming down and sprawling out to sleep. But her half-closed eyes watch me for a long time.
Just as the sun's first light creeps up between the city's towers outside, her eyes close and her breathing steadies.
"I love you," I whisper to her still, quiet form.
Sometime not long after, I fall asleep.
~*~
I wake facing away from E.J. with the sun streaming in through the stained glass, painting colored patterns across my skin and the dress I never changed out of. The cage door creaks open, and there's the soft sounds of bare human footstep from behind me. A hand reaches into view, brushing across my cheek before gently pulling my curls back and out of my face.
"I love you too," she says.