Shadowglass (5 page)

It’s a talent of mine I don’t talk about, this witchy trick with human smells. I’m just thankful it doesn’t work on my friends. I don’t wanna know what they really think of me.

Across from me, a guy in a cheap black suit clutched a worn briefcase, white earphone buds dangling unused around his neck, dark hair artfully spiked. Smudges circled his eyes, his mouth tight and weary in his pale face. Even over my eau-de-slutgirl, I could smell boredom.

He slid a scornful glance over me, his lip twisting, and resentment soured my mouth at his disdain. Just some lousy office worker. Who did he think he was, looking at me like dirt? At least I had ambition, even if the object of my desire was unattainable. If I had any guts, I’d snark this guy raw.

I swallowed bitter indignation and looked away.

A cold metal whisper slithered into my mind.—
What an asshole. Why don’t you tell him what you think of him?—

I snorted.
Good idea, squidgy. Wish I had the courage. People with jobs they hate make me sick.

He stared, incredulous. “What did you say?”

My cheeks sizzled.
Did I say that aloud?

—Might as well make the best of it
,—the squidgy whispered.

I shrugged, emboldened. “I said, who are you trying to impress, getting to work at six in the morning?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Didn’t you get laid last night? Don’t you have a better ass to kiss than your boss’s?”

His brow creased, and my guts churned. I couldn’t believe I said that. Guess I was still drunk. But that snarky mirror murmured glassy rebellion in my ear, and the jagged urge to taunt him chewed at me like teeth. I couldn’t stop. “Advice, loser. You ain’t never gonna get rich opening up. You really want to impress your boss, get under the desk and suck him off.”

Another fat suit across from him muffled a laugh. My stomach hollowed. Now I’d done it. Lip like that’d get me punched in the face, or worse.

The loser gripped his case tightly and rose. “Yeah. I can see that approach has worked for you, career girl. Nice come stain, by the way. Very classy.”

I clutched the bag closer, my palms slipping. The not-mirror cooed, comforting.—
He deserves it. You’ve taken enough shit from his sort over the years. Time to give some back.—

He stalked off to find another seat, and the fat guy laughed again, greasy glasses twinkling in bright sun. “Baby, I like your style. You can work for me any time.”

“Fuck off, gonzo.” Embarrassment sizzled my fingerpads blue, and I turned to face the window before the squidgy made me say anything else. I squeezed the handle tightly, my insides hot and watery. Everyone was staring at me, I knew it, their disapproval tainting the air, and I squirmed, my glamour shifting in discomfort.

For all I knew, Loser had three kids and a 15 percent mortgage. I still resented his attitude. But what possessed me to attack him like that? First thing in the morning, in front of a tram full of strangers? He hadn’t done anything to me, not really.

Gentle metal comfort clucked from the depths of my bag, and I scowled, unconvinced. Still wasted. That had to be it. Either that, or Kane really had screwed my brains out.

A giggle splurted up into my throat, and I had to plaster my hand over my mouth to keep it in.

The three stops until my transfer dragged for what felt like hours, and I slunk to the automatic doors with the fat guy’s eyes glued to my grimy ass and my gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

Federation Square, where seagulls dipped and swerved, and sun shone brightly on the green metal-framed façade of the film museum. Workers grabbed early coffees from fragrant black cafés. A greasy black spriggan in a trench coat crab-walked between rubbish bins, picking out cigarette butts and half-eaten sandwiches with gnarled yellow claws. A grinning firefairy clung to a passing tram’s roof, wings trailing flames in the breeze, cackling in delight as sparks rolled over her naked back.

My tram came, and I shambled on, half-asleep and headachy. I wanted my bed, warm and comforting and alone, where no one could hurt me or laugh at me.

The mirror burbled to me as we swayed along clicking tracks, my bag vibrating alarmingly under my palm. Secretly, I supposed it was kinda cool. I wanted to take it out, admire the glass shining in the sun, peek inside and see what I could see. But I didn’t dare, not here, after what it maybe made me say.

But I remembered the disbelieving look on that guy’s face, and a naughty smile flavored my lips. Yeah, that was kinda cool, too. I patted my bag absently.
Crafty, clever little squidgy. We’ll be friends.

—Mmm,—
the mirror whispered, and I smiled to myself and daydreamed the rest of the way to my stop, of a new and delicious world where I said what I wanted and wasn’t scared anymore.

Swanston Street, glass skyscrapers and retail cantilevers giving way to dirty office buildings and car parks, the university, my suburb with its bluestone gutters and cracked pavements and broken-down student houses. I drifted off the tram and flitted the last few blocks in a daze, blinking in the sunlight, my bare feet stinging on rough concrete.

I tumbled the squidgy over in my hands as I dawdled. Sunlight glinted on scratches in the rust, and underneath it showed all silvery and nice. I stroked it, and the thing inside purred. “So, squidgy, what exactly are you?”

—I’m you. We’re us. You’re me.—
The voice chimed pleasantly, like bells or rushing water.

“Okay, so that didn’t make sense. Who’s in there? Are you a boy or a girl? How come you’re telling me all these weird things to say? I mean, it’s brave and cool and awesome of you. But—”

—I want us to be happy.—
The squidgy rolled anxiously, caressing my fingers.—
Be my friend. Please. Don’t break my heart.—

“Okay, okay. Don’t twist your knickers. Here’s home. You like it?”

Our squat, a moldy white weatherboard, dirt where the lawn should be, a broken veranda with a dusty couch and a few dead potted plants, front window broken and boarded, magpies squawking on the rusty gutters.

We’re not proud. We like it here. Why spend money on rent when you can party? Besides, we owe most of what we make to the Valenti clan. In the middle of an ongoing gang war, protection doesn’t come cheap, even for a two-bit con like ours. Should’ve asked Kane to put in a good word for me with Sonny V.

Sure. Kane had probably already forgotten I existed. Probably did a different girl every night, trying to forget about his weird-ass girlfriend.

I flapped up onto the creaking porch, slipping the not-mirror back in my bag. Stale heat dried my lungs as I staggered into the lounge. No air-conditioning, and we swung from the ceiling fans and broke them long ago. Jewelry, crumpled cash, and broken glass littered the thin carpet, yesterday’s spoils. Crusty yellow custard splashed the peeling green wallpaper and the TV screen, and our big orange beanbag was speckled with mashed jelly beans and popcorn. We’d had a bit of a party before we went out. No doubt Blaze would cheat at paper, scissors, rock and I’d end up cleaning again.

The mirror snorted.—
Tell him to clean up his own custard. Just ’cause you’re a girl doesn’t mean you do housework, right?—

Yeah. Try telling Blaze that. He tries to be a New Age guy—he cleans his teeth and wears eye shadow and everything—but he’s got that convenient boy gene that just doesn’t see the mess, even when he put it there.

Ladylike snoring rattled from Azure’s doorway, and I stuck my head in to see her tucked happily in bed, green hair brushed, wings clean and neatly folded under the quilt.

Affection warmed me. No doubt she’d made sweet, safe, sober love to a clean, respectable fae boy in his nice clean house, slipped out of bed (
yeah, Ice,
bed
—not over the couch or up against the door
) despite his protests and showered before she came home. Before daylight. With all her clothes intact. By taxi, because she hadn’t spent all her cash getting plastered. Without making a dickhead of herself, insulting some random guy on the way.

I looked down at my stained clothes, the blue bruises blotting my arms from harsh demon fingers, the stinky shimmer wafting from my skin. Weary envy tugged at my blood.
Some girls have class, Ice. You’re not one of them.

I tossed my bag into my doorway and passed Blaze’s match-scented room without looking in. He wouldn’t be there. If he got home before lunchtime, it’d be a first. So many besotted girls, so little time.

I stumbled into the stuffy gray bathroom and peeled off my clothes. Blaze had squirted shampoo all over the tiles again, and scarlet hair clogged the drain. I fumbled the tap on and leaned my head on my forearm, letting lukewarm water slide over me until I drifted asleep and woke up with a jerk. Water off, find a towel, make an effort at drying myself, stagger naked back to my room with an aching head and stinging eyes.

My room, torn lace curtains, silk flowers, and Kevin, my glass-eyed teddy bear, on the bedside table. My bed looked wonderful, the crumpled feather quilt inviting in its rainbow cover. I didn’t even bother to shut the window to keep the magpie noise out. I fell into the quilt facefirst, the pillow soft and sugar-scented, dripping green hair cool on my back. Diamonds clinked gently on my wrists, comforting. The not-mirror rolled out of my bag, singing a sweet metal lullaby, and I cradled it in my hand as I dozed off.

My life. Take it or leave it. There’s more than this, but I’ll never see it. I’m just a silly fae girl. Not a person, with a job or a family or a life. A foolish, scared, useless fairy girl with aspirations beyond her means. Fancy that.

I fell asleep dreaming, of thieving a hellburnt demon’s cave where the air stinks of pain and fire, my companion a deep blue shadow with warm copper claws. Dread thickens the air like hot fog, but I’m not scared. We creep hand in quivering hand over black blood-scorched earth, so stealthy past slumbering sharp-scaled hell-spawn, drifting over hidden trip wires and spike-riddled traps with a flutter of warm silver wings. The treasure chest is rusted, the lock trapped with poison. We steal the mirror in a shower of black sparks and flee. He wraps velvet blue arms around me, brushing his soft wings against mine, and the lips that burn my mouth taste of iron.

5

F
eather-light kisses dusted the small of my back, and I groaned in deliciousness, rubbing my cheek into the soft pillow. I’m naked in his bed, and he’ll kiss me all over with that sinful silver-blue mouth, kiss me until my wing tips curl and my nipples spring tight and my legs melt like hot caramel, and then he’ll climb onto my back and slide inside me, deep and slow, and he’ll crush my fingers on the sheet and lick between my wing joints while we make love.

Gentle pleasure built and broke in my belly, and I shuddered and groaned in delight.

Naughty fingers yanked knots into my hair. I snapped awake, warm honey sensation slipping away. Red sparks showered onto my pillow from a low giggle, and the smell of matches tickled my nose.

Did I just come in my sleep? Damn it.
I sighed, burying my face in iron-scented warmth, but too late. Hot midday sunlight cracked between my eyelids, and the dream broke. “Get lost, Blaze. I’m asleep.”

“I’m bored. Wake up.” The mattress dipped, and curious claws scratched at my knuckles. “What’s this?”

Warning clanged.
My squidgy. Mine.

I jerked up and tugged the sweaty sheet around me, pulling the squidgy away. “Mine. You can’t see it. Get your own.”

He grinned, sleepy-eyed, scarlet hair sticky in the heat. Still dressed in skin-tight leather and pirate velvet, only he smelled of girly perfume, light and flowery. A fetching yellow bruise adorned his narrow chin, and he’d lost an earring.

—He’s cute,—
the squidgy observed helpfully.

I squinted. “Where you been, naughty boy?”

“Damned if I know. I woke up beside my clothes in an elevator, there’s chocolate in my hair, and my dick hurts. Musta had a good night.”

He ruffled his sparking hair, and the squidgy giggled.
—Ooh, he’s really cute.—

I giggled, too. Squidgy’s a girl after all. “You’re such a whore, Blaze.”

“Someone’s gotta do it. You stink. Where’ve you been?”

Nowhere. Doesn’t matter. It’s boring. You wouldn’t be interested.

The cowardly words floated on my lips, but the sleepy mirror clicked its tongue at me.—
Why are you ashamed? Be proud. Tell the truth. You really care what people think?—

Right. Yeah. Of course not.
I fluffed my bedraggled hair, noble. “Why, with a demon lord, since you ask.”

The squidgy laughed, and warm pleasure spread in my blood, unexpected.
So that’s what truth feels like.

Blaze laughed, and smacked a kiss on my cheek. “No shit. How was it?”

His lips felt strange, soft and sugary, not burnt like Kane’s or rusted and mysterious like my dream lover’s. I grinned. “Weird. Excruciating. I came about eight times. Wanna know how we did it?”

Blaze winked, and slunk crafty white fingers across my hip toward the mirror. “So was it twue wuv? Didya get his phone number?”

I squirmed away, and he followed, burrowing after me under the quilt in a flurry of crimson wings. He rubbed his head on my shoulder like a cat in our warm rainbow-stained shelter, and I giggled. “No. But I did get this.”

I held it up and squeezed, and the petals sprang open. My mirror glinted at me, and I grinned back. “Hello, squidgy.”

—Well, hello.—
Slinky, like a hungry cat.

Blaze craned his neck and peered inside, and his dark eyes shimmered. “Oh, that’s nice, Icy. Lemme see.” His voice took on that seductive gleam that gives me shivers in all the wrong places, and he stretched out his hand.

I rolled away, teasing, cuddling the squidgy to my chest. “No. It’s mine. You’ll just break it.”

“No, I won’t. Give.” He scrabbled for my rib cage and tickled, claws and all.

“Ah! Stop it!” My skin twitched all over, my wings jerking helplessly. I shrieked laughter and squirmed, but the quilt trapped me and I folded against his body, kicking and beating at him with my wings as I held the spiky mirror tighter to my breasts. He felt hard, supple, clever against my back. Good, in fact. Really good. His hot smell of woodflame licked me, creeping inside my mouth. My throat tightened. “Let go, you brute. Get off me. Damn, you smell fantastic.”

Oops. That one just slipped out. A little too much truth. The mirror giggled, and I flushed, hot water burning through my skin. God, if I’d just flooded in his lap, I’d kill myself.

But he just laughed and rolled me over toward him, trapping my wings under me so I couldn’t move. His sultry black gaze drifted over my chest, not at all innocent. “Yeah? Wanna taste me, too?”

The mirror laughed, sharp.—
Oh, yes. Yes, we do.—

Oh, no, we don’t.

With a fresh flush, I remembered I was naked. He’d seen me enough times, at the beach in winter, or between the shower and my bedroom, or that time when some fairy-hating scumbags wired me to a streetlamp and ripped my dress off. But this was different. Those were my breasts he was staring at, my skin all damp and blue with excitement. Naughty, horny little fae girl. I laughed uneasily and pushed at him, trying to pretend my nipples weren’t scrunched so tight, they hurt. “Get your hand off it, Blaze. You’re not serious.”

“Why not? You were.” He circled my wrists one by one and forced them over my head.

Okay, so I didn’t exactly struggle. My back arched all by itself, straining toward him.

The mirror snickered, and spilled onto the sheet by my ear.

Images seared my vision, of his mouth on me, his bold hands exploring me, his tongue pleasuring me deep. I shuddered, lust ripping a ragged swath through my reason that filled rapidly with scorching embarrassment.

What was wrong with me? Was I still drunk? Blaze is hot boy-candy and we play flirty games, but I’d never seriously desired him before. Of course, I’d never lain under him naked with my wrists trapped in his double-jointed fingers and his hot thigh jammed hard between mine and that gorgeous red hair tickling my chest and . . . Oh.

He nuzzled my breast, lipping my twisted nipple. Sensation stabbed straight to my sex, and desire splashed my skin like hot oil.
Mmm. Pretty boy. Naked. Kissing
. “Blaze . . .”

“Uh-huh.” He nibbled me again, harder. Yellow flame curled from his lips, licking deep warmth into my breast. My nipple stung and tightened, begging for his mouth.

—Don’t fight it, Ice. You know we want him.—

I squirmed, burning.
Insane. Mad. Stupid. Tell him to stop it and get off me before something ugly happens.

—How about, gosh, that feels good, make love to us right now?—

Just shut up, okay?

But careless glee sprinted in my head like a line of banshee blue, and hungry words scrambled in my mouth. I bit my tongue, but they slipped out. “Mmm, kiss me, that feels so good. Umm . . . I mean . . .”

“You mean you like it.” Strange harshness edged his voice, and he flicked my swollen bud with his sharp tongue. “You taste horny, Icy-girl. Wanna fix that?”

He sucked my nipple hard into his mouth. Water sizzled under my skin. I whimpered. His sharp teeth grazed me, and when he bit me gently, my insides melted, it felt so good.

Decision time’s passing, Ice. This is crazy. Get him off you.
“But . . . don’t we have this rule? . . .”

“Screw the rules. Come taste me. You want it.” Ruby sparks ignited on his breath, entrancing me, showering my skin with stinging desire. He slid onto me, nudging my legs farther apart with his hips, and I didn’t stop him. His svelte weight pressed down on me, and he would have forced his burning lips onto mine, only I strained forward and kissed him first.

Hard, needy, cruel. Mad. My lips bruised on his teeth. But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t care.

He tasted as I knew he would, of a winter bonfire, woody and aflame. He laughed into our kiss, and I did the same, reckless delight boiling inside me. I wrapped my leg around those slender hips, and he pressed my wrists harder into the pillow and slid his clever tongue into my mouth.

I swallowed, dragging more of him into me. My breasts hurt deep inside, my belly squirmed hot and empty, longing to be filled, aching with a deeper need than I wanted to acknowledge.

I wanted to feel him on me and inside me, enjoy his lustful flames licking my skin. I wanted to stop pretending he didn’t turn me on. I wanted to stop caring what other people thought.

But more than anything, I wanted to stop being afraid.

Of other people, of men, of sex, of getting hurt. Of myself, of what I might do in a careless moment.

—Yes,—
hissed the mirror, triumphant.—
We’re us. Love you, Ice. Love you always.—

“Ice.” Blaze’s whisper burned my mouth, his lips sliding on mine. “Fuck me. Do it. You know you wanna.”

“Mmm. Yeah.” His erection jammed hard against my pubic bone, tempting, and the twinge of delicious pain threaded a glimmer of reason through my crazed senses.

This isn’t you, Ice. You’re the sensible one. You don’t want this. And even he’s not usually this cruel. Why is he acting like this, after so many months of meaningless flirting? Something’s wrong here.

The mirror buzzed, angry, and I broke off, breathless, too desperate to laugh anymore. “But what about Azure, she’ll be jealous—”

“Screw Azure, too. I want you.” He dragged my hands down to his waist, red flames reflecting in his eyes, and at the stickiness of his smooth hips under my fingerpads, my resistance simmered away. Selfishness tickled my spine like a warm feather. My body glowed with pleasure. For once I didn’t care about consequences, and it felt fucking fantastic.

By my ear, that crafty squidgy cackled, and I grinned.

I scrabbled to get his pants open, and the truth spilled out, irresponsible, beautiful, no shame, no regret: “I’ve always wanted you.”

A sweet, arrogant Blaze grin. “Yeah, I know. ’Bout time.”

His mouth demanded mine again, hot and wet and laced with fire. At last I found the buckle and released it, and his skin burned my thighs. We didn’t have a condom. I didn’t care. I worked my fingers around his cock, and at the delicious throaty sigh he made into my mouth, lust unraveled in me like a coiled snake. I wanted to impale myself on him just to hear it again, to feel his desire slide down my throat. Flame licked his wings, singeing the quilt. The swollen flesh between my legs still hurt from so many times last night, but that only made this more enticing. I wanted to feel him where I’d felt Kane, erase the chilly feeling inside, and the nerves in my sex twitched hungrily. I shuddered, disbelieving and shamefully eager.

This is actually happening. I’m about to screw my best friend, and it’s gonna feel really good.

“What’re you lot doing in there, the laundry? Can’t ya let a girl sleep?”

From the next room. Querulous. Infuriating. Predictable.

Okay, so that broke the mood. Guilt scrubbed me like a scouring pad, stinging and painful. What the hell was I doing?

“Forget her.” Blaze rubbed himself between my legs, his lips still sizzling on mine.

Hot, hard, willing. My flesh ached with need. I squeezed my eyes shut in disbelief, my breath harsh and short. The words that came out weren’t the ones I needed. “Oh, god . . . Please, just . . . Christ, get off me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He pushed, and I wanted so much to push back that my bones hurt.

But I summoned the ragged scraps of my will and squirmed out of the way, shame boiling my skin. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered. “Quick. Before she finds out.”

“Told you you’re scared.” He nipped the point of my ear, cruel and arousing.

“Not scared. Sensible.” The happy, alien urge to crucify sensible clawed at my guts again, but I dragged my imagination to Az’s reaction if she saw us. Not good, especially after I’d promised her . . . God, I’d actually promised her I wouldn’t touch him. What was I thinking?

He sucked my earlobe with a sorrowful whimper. “Pity.”

“Yeah. Get off me.” I shoved him away and scrambled off the bed, hunting on the floor for some clothes, any clothes before she came in and saw us. I found a crumpled blue sundress and dragged it on, fumbling to tie the halter around my sweaty neck. Hastily I fluttered my sore wings to unwrinkle them, and water showered. I smelled of him, smoky with phosphorus and boy sweat. Surely she’d notice. Damn it.

By the time I turned, Blaze was up and decent, and I’d missed the curious spectacle of him stuffing that delicious hard-on inside those tight leather pants. I giggled and whispered, strange levity polishing my guilt. “How’s that thing fit in there, anyway?”

He adjusted himself with a naughty wince. “You’d be surprised where it f—”

“Noisy pricks, aren’t you? What’s the party?” Azure fluttered in the doorway in her wispy white nightie, dragging a waterfall of green curls from her delicate neck. Sleepy glitter drifted from her wings to set her pale blue skin aglow.

Envy scratched my overwrought nerves, and I felt geeky and ugly and wished Blaze wasn’t there. Even just out of bed and hungover after a night on the town, she’s pretty as an angel.

Blaze winked slyly. “Icy’s got a new toy.”