Caged View (9 page)

Fifty candles in different shades of purple
were spread around the room. Some were placed on her fuchsia
bookshelf. Others floated over her bed by suspension spells. She
had a huge poster of Captain Habitat taped on her ceiling as if she
liked to ogle him while she lay in bed. Hundreds of books were
stacked and scattered everywhere. Some were thick and leather
bound. Others were small paperbacks with various muscular men
ravaging women’s breasts.

A solid white Pixie chased a lemon-colored
one into a pile of clothes slung in the corner of Lanore’s room.
The lemon Pixie dove out from the other side and flew away with a
lilac sock sticking to one of its wings.

I chuckled.

The apartment’s front door opened, getting
my attention.

The Were-cheetah immediately separated from
the blonde and was on the other side of the couch by the time
Lanore stepped into the apartment.

So the cheetah still wants her?

She walked through, spotted him and then the
blonde, and released an annoyed breath before speeding off to her
bedroom.

The blonde moved her lips, saying something
that I couldn’t hear. The Were-cheetah ignored her. Instead, he
leaned back until the tip of his nose pointed up to the ceiling.
His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air.

I grinned.

You smell me on her. Don’t you?

He shot up, knocking over their orange
coffee table, and dashed into her bedroom before she could close
the door.

Be careful, cat.

I got off the railing and stepped onto the
fire escape, lifting her window up a tiny bit and peering through
her sheer lilac curtains.

If he touches her, I will kill him.

“How was your night?” he asked, edging to
her and sniffing her hair.

“Fine.” She waved him away, slung off her
sneakers, and threw her bag in the corner.

Without even looking up at him, she said,
“Stop smelling me!”

“I wasn’t. You’re being paranoid.” He leaned
back on her dresser. “You weren’t wearing that when you left the
house this morning. I definitely would have remembered you wearing
a tight black dress like that.”

As the cheetah continued to yap, I shifted
my eyes to black so I could get a look at his beast.

Where are you, kitty?

The beast appeared in the middle of the
Were-cheetah’s chest, watching Lanore’s every movement. It didn’t
matter what she did or what part of the room she went to, those
feline eyes followed.

My stomach twisted into a tight, stressful
knot. I’d never seen a beast act like this unless he was gazing at
his mate.

I shook my worry away.

This Shifter is too young to mate.

I studied the cheetah’s body, noting the
tiny paws and tail that signaled a Seasoned beast, not yet
mature.

He’s still in his Season. There’s nothing to
worry about.

“Did you go on a date?” the Were-cheetah
asked.

“Would you leave me alone and take care of
your guest?” Lanore seized a lilac bathrobe off her desk. “I’m
taking a shower.”

“I can ask her to leave,” he said to her
back as she went into the bathroom.

The bathroom door locked. The shower turned
on.

The Were-cheetah leaped to her satchel and
went through it, inhaling every item. His eyes shifted when he got
to the bloody clothes. Claws appeared from his fingertips, ripping
the bag open. Deep growls erupted from his chest.

The shower turned off.

He raced out of the bedroom.

This cat may be a problem.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I still sat there,
watching her.

The Were-cheetah had left with the
blonde.

Lanore finished spreading vanilla oil onto
her skin and put on a lilac gown. I’d actually closed my eyes most
of the time, already feeling like a pervert for watching her
through the window and invading her privacy. The least I could do
was not ogle her while she walked around naked.

I pulled out my phone and dialed her phone
number.

She raced out of the bedroom to a phone that
was on the wall. Her eyes scanned the screen as she sighed and
picked up the phone. “I’m sorry for running out like that,
Zulu.”

“I want to talk about you and me later.”

She paused for a minute, and I could see her
biting the nail on her index finger. “Okay, but no more
kissing.”

I growled over the phone.

“You keep growling like that, and I’ll hang
up,” she said.

“I’ll give you some time to yourself, a few
weeks, and then I’m coming for you,” I said in a deep voice.

“Coming for me?” She covered her face and
giggled. “You know you’re absolutely insane.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered as I gazed at
her through the window.

“I’m not promising you that we’ll start
dating,” she said. “But I will explain why I’m hesitant.”

“That’s fair.”

“Good night,” she said in a sweet voice that
made me want to climb into her apartment and taste her tongue.

“Good night,” I reluctantly said as she hung
up.

She strolled away from the kitchen, entered
her room, and turned off the light. The fifty candles all over the
room lit together in one instant.

How is she doing that?

She got under her fuzzy purple blanket, blew
a kiss to the Captain Habitat poster on the ceiling, and lay in her
bed.

Minutes passed. I waited to hear the soft
sound of her slumber.

But instead, she sat up. Her hand went to
her nightstand’s top drawer, pulled something out, and took it
under the blanket.

A humming sound filled the room.

It has to be a vibrator.

I bit my lip, wanting to come through the
window and please her myself.

“Zulu,” she moaned.

I froze, standing there for a few seconds
more, watching her pleasure herself with my name on her tongue.

“Zulu.”

You’ll say more than that when I claim
you.

I had to go now, or I’d do something that we
would both regret. I flashed a grin and back-flipped off of her
fire escape, falling into the air.

A cool wind rushed up my body.

My wings expanded with a snap, and then I
rose high into the sky, above Lanore’s building, singing York’s
song in my mind.

In this cage, behind these bars, I think of
you and me.

THE VICIOUS CIRCLE

Lanore

“Although our vaginas are in different
places and respond in different ways,” the Fire Witch professor
said as she magically lit all of the yellow candles in the room,
“we all have them, and that is what binds us together in a
sisterhood.”

I raised my eyebrows and smirked.

The Mixbreed, Demon, and Troll students had
been asked to sit on their rugs on the right side of the room. The
rest of the Purebloods sat on the far left.

So much for a sisterhood.

Professor Frei sat down on the gold rug in
front and crossed her legs until they were under her thighs.
Usually her carrot-orange hair spread out in a wild, curly heap on
top of her head. Today, she’d slicked it all back into a tight bun.
Her eyes had a bronze hue in the candlelit room as she gazed at the
rest of the students and me, giving us each a nod and smile.

“Remember, this is not a competition.” She
sliced the air in front of her with her tattoo-covered hands. “We
all must take our own journey using Dr. Xandon’s principals of
vaginal meditation. Let’s begin a warm-up meditative silence.”

Everyone, except me, closed their eyes.

I scanned the classroom.

Gold bowls full of silver water circled
Professor Frei. A pink lotus flower floated in each. Four-foot
statues of Dr. Xandon meditating were carved in gold and placed in
every corner of the candlelit room. The candles must have been a
citrus blend because the room had the scent one would get when
peeling a ripe orange.

Just thinking of chomping down on a sweet
orange made my stomach grumble.

Professor Frei snapped her eyes open and
sighed as she looked at me.

This was our third course together. The
first one, Navigating Fire for Transcendence, she’d kicked me out
for constantly sneaking Pixies into her class. They’d devoured most
of her lotus flowers and had crapped glittery multi-colored poop on
two statues.

During the second course, Blood Peace
Potions, she’d caught me taking a purple candle from her goddess’s
altar. I’d really felt bad about that later. Granted, there wasn’t
a sign that said you couldn’t take it.

She’d barely permitted me to register for
this course. I’d begged and given her a huge box of new candles.
She’d taken the box and admitted that I would have to go through a
probationary period.

My stomach rumbled again. I sucked my gut in
and whispered, “Sorry.”

Professor Frei shut her eyes and hummed.

I closed my own, twirling my fuzzy yarn rug
with my hands and sliding my fingertips across its rugged
surface.

“Okay. Let us begin with Dr. Xandon’s first
principle.” She closed her eyes and held her hands out. “You must
first align your mind with your vagina.”

I loudly snorted.

Shuffling ensued. I opened my eyes to see
that everyone was glancing at me. Some scowled. Others glared.
Apparently, snorting was not proper behavior in this class.

Calm down, people. I didn’t do it
intentionally.

“Lanore Vesta,” Professor Frei said. “Surely
this seems funny at first, but trust me. If you learn the Alignment
Rituals, you will experience a peace within your life like no
other.”

“Yes ma’am.” I nodded and closed my eyes
again.

That was the reason I’d enrolled in the
course, to gain some sort of harmony within my life. Maybe I did
need to align my vagina with my brain. They definitely didn’t work
together. My brain found sensible men that were nice and quiet—like
Wallace. He’d been awesome to hang out with. We both liked Captain
Habitat, lounging in the library, and abhorred all of the famous
Vampire philosophers.

But my vagina didn’t want him.

She wanted men that stomped around, beating
their chests and injuring people who got in their way.

I exhaled.

“Focus on your vagina,” Professor Frei
whispered.

How do I do that? Picture it? Think about
it? Do I really know what it completely looks like? Do I want to?
Wait. Maybe that’s the problem; maybe I should take a picture
and—

“Miss Vesta!” the professor yelled.

The Troll on my right giggled into her hairy
hand.

“Yes?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Professor Frei halted a minute, inhaled and
exhaled a few times, and then said, “You’re grinding your teeth and
tapping your knees to the point that it is distracting
everyone.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just don’t
understand how to align everything together.”

“Close your eyes and think of what would
make your vagina happy,” she ordered with an edge of aggravation.
“You are making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Alrighty.” I closed my eyes. MeShack’s
fingers immediately came to my mind and then Zulu’s lips.

“Just think of a warm bath or comfortable
underwear,” she suggested.

Oh.

“Not a past or future lover?” I
interrupted.

The entire class broke out into
laughter.

I bit my lip and opened my eyes to see the
professor glaring at me. The candles’ flames shot four feet in the
air. She pointed to the door.

I quietly got up, rolled my violet yarn rug,
and left the class.

“Combo Trash,” an Earth Witch near the door
rudely whispered.

I leaned down her way. “Say that outside so
I can set your vagina on—”

The professor cleared her throat. “Miss
Vesta, please leave my class in a peaceful manner.”

* * *

“How was the coochie class?” MeShack asked
over the phone.

“Vaginal Meditation,” I corrected, leaning
against the red wall of the hospital’s phone booth. “I got kicked
out.”

He laughed. “What time are you coming home?
I wanted to celebrate your last day of Anger Management.”

I could hear dishes clanking together over
the phone. “I’m not coming home. Wallace bought tickets for
Meridian: The Super Force Unites
.”

Dishes crashed into something, and MeShack
growled.

I waited for a few seconds, shifting my
weight to the other foot while three doctors wearing crimson red
jackets and silver scrubs ambled by. “Is everything okay over
there?”

MeShack cleared his throat. “What time is
the movie over, and will you both be partying hard at the library
tonight with your blueberry smoothies?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Wallace has to work
the Vamp-shift at Witch Mart. I’ll be home by nine.”

“You know most of the people in the audience
will be under twelve years old?”

“And your point? It’s a re-make of Captain
Habitat’s best movie.”