Vixenscratch

<<< Go back to In the Devil’s Home

Roxeen must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up feeling stiff and miserable on the cold floor, to say nothing of the pain in his injured hand. He could remember the events of the previous night all too clearly, and he could remember Raol and Cress leaving at some point during the night. Some time after that he had apparently gathered enough energy to pull his pants back on right and curl up in a corner.

His spine felt kinked enough to rival lamb’s fur, probably a combination of the position he’d slept in and the cold, drafty room he was in. But at least he seemed to be alone, which was endlessly better than having Raol there with him. The Gods only knew how long he would have that kind of peace.

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<<< Go back to All’s Not Well in Avelyon

When Roxeen became aware again, he felt more than anything like a passenger in his own body. He was sitting, though he’d slumped over to the side, and the chair he was on was vibrating roughly in time with the rumble of an engine. He couldn’t see his surroundings; his eyes were closed and his eyelids didn’t seem to want to obey regardless of how much he tried to open them. Something smelled like lemon, in that vaguely synthetic way that air fresheners and dish soap had in common.

And nobody spoke a word.

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The employees-only hallway connecting the door used for deliveries to the main room of The Rabbit Hole was by no stretch silent, but the noise from the club was muffled enough by the sturdy wooden door to facilitate conversation. Out there, especially this late at night, it frequently got loud enough that exchanging confidences, at least, was right out. At least if you wanted the other party to hear you.

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A day off.

A day he could, guilt-free, spend with his lover who wouldn’t call him more than that. No need to worry about being alert when he went on his shift, late evening.

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The streets were bustling at the New Year’s Faire, with stands along the sides of the city’s main street, performers on miniature improvised stages in the center of the street at regular intervals, and people enjoying the holiday filling up most of the rest of the street. The area was crowded; ideal for pickpockets. And that was why Alej and his colleagues were there.

Normally, the half-fox, half-wyvern’s job wouldn’t take him into this kind of regular situations, but he had to admit it was a nice change of pace. Walking down the streets in plainclothes, on the lookout for pickpockets and conmen, was quite different from being responsible for the capture of cursed creatures such as werewolves or vampires when they stepped on the wrong side of the law.

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Everything was different when I first met Jake. Most of all he was different, or at least I thought he was. Because I came to know him as a gentleman, a gentle, caring person who loved me when no one else would. When no one else could, or so he told me. I believed every word.

I arrived to Avelyon High with my heart in the pit of my stomach. Not only was the school large, much more so than any three buildings in my small hometown, but it overlooked Avelyon itself, sprawling below the hill where the old Tragash hold had been converted into a mixed-race boarding school.

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<<< Go back to He Was Different

I don’t know how long it was until things started to change, but they did. Oh, it was pretty harmless at first. Even a bit flattering, in its own way. I didn’t notice, or didn’t want to notice, when Jake went from telling me how beautiful I was to how beautiful I was in his eyes. It was such a small distinction, nothing to worry about, and it only reaffirmed what I thought I knew: that I was the center of Jake’s universe. He started acting a bit more possessively, and I gave him all the leeway he needed. I didn’t really need to spend time with this or that male classmate, not if it was at the expense of Jake.

After all, Jake loved me, or so I thought. I’d certainly fallen hard for him.

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Raven was still loading cans of soda and bottles of brightly-colored alcopop into her fridge when the doorbell rang. She cast a glance at the microwave oven’s time display and concluded that it must be her sister — Gail always arrived early, while the rest of her expected guests had long since accepted that Raven was never, ever ready on time. She stuck the last sixpack into the fridge, opened a bottle of alcoholic starflower fruit soda against the edge of the kitchen counter, and went to get the door, hips swaying in her tight black mid-thigh skirt.

True enough, it was her sister at the door, dressed in her usual almost prudish, old-fashioned manner, though with her wavy light brown hair hanging loose across her shoulders rather than tied back in some manner as was usually the case. The younger woman frowned slightly and pushed past her sister into the apartment. “You’re always late, Raven, even opening the door. And drinking already?”

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Hands ran over her body, and Aretta moaned quietly, leaning into the touch. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice, urgently whispering compliments as his hands played with her small breasts, was to die for. He leaned in closer, his tongue teasing one of her nipples, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her back arching in response. She’d never known someone could get her so worked up, so very turned on, that any little touch like that was like an electrode touching her skin.

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Arvel had come over early to help Raven tidy up for the movie night, and had even been nice enough to offer to get groceries on the way, sparing her the trip that always seemed to eat through most of her afternoon, regardless of when she left work. As they finished up the last of the preparations Raven cast a glance at the microwave clock. It was probably the first time she’d ever been ahead of schedule, and it wasn’t just by one or two minutes, either.

“Look at the time!” she exclaimed in wonder, hugging Arvel to her side. “How’d that happen?”

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