chair, watching her mother on the couch as the morning sun shone through the front windows of their apartment. Her eyes burned as memories of the day Lenora’s abilities manifested swirled around her.
“Hey, Mom!” ten-year-old Rory called from the door as she ran in with her backpack bouncing against her body. “Guess what!”
Her father poked his head around the hallway, and dark eyebrows shot to his hairline. “What?”
She reached into her bag and pulled out her math test. “I got the highest score in class today,” she beamed.
Her mother clapped excitedly, and Rory’s smile widened. Lenora always made a big production of her children’s accomplishments and encouraged them when they failed.
Patrick crossed the room and took the paper from her. “This is going on the refrigerator,” he announced as he made his way to the kitchen. “We’re proud of you, squirt.”
Rory planted her small hands on her hips. “Don’t call me that, Dad. I’m practically a teenager.”
Her mother chuckled and walked into the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll make your favorite.”
Dume and Cora walked in the front door, chattering back and forth. “Rory, did you tell them?” Dume asked eagerly, as if he’d made the grade himself. Cora’s lips were curled into a small smile. Her twin hadn’t done as well, and Rory felt a pang of guilt for celebrating her own win.
“She did,” Patrick said as he ruffled Dume’s hair between his horns and placed a kiss on Cora’s head.
“I want pizza,” Rory decided. Her mother was the best cook in the entire realm.
“Yes,” Dume and Cora said, high fiving.
“Pizza it is,” Lenora announced, shuffling around the kitchen to gather ingredients.
Cora smiled brightly. “She’s the smart one. I’m the pretty one.”
Rory shoved her sister lightly. “We look the same, dork.” Cora shrugged. They weren’t identical, but the similarities were uncanny.
Rory’s mother dropped the jar of tomato sauce and stood still. Her gaze was on the wall in front of her as Patrick rushed over.
“Did you cut yourself?” He checked her bare feet covered in glass, but she didn’t answer.
“Mom?” Cora asked, giving her a weary look.
“What’s happening?” Dume whispered to Rory.
“I don’t know.”
Her mother turned, and the sound of crunching glass beneath her feet made Rory flinch. “She’s not supposed to be there. He’s bright because his darkness hides.” Her eyes locked on Cora. “You shouldn’t be there!”
Her words were gibberish, and Cora shrank into herself.
“Mom?” Rory asked. “You’re scaring me.”
“You two take Dume to play in your room,” her father said softly.
Rory knew something was wrong. “What’s wrong with Mom?” she demanded. She was almost an adult now, and she deserved to know.
Cora placed her hands on Rory’s shoulders, urging her to leave. “Her abilities are starting,” she murmured. Cora had always been the smart one, despite what she’d said earlier.
Rory sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head. She knew what that meant. Her parents started preparing her and Cora for this moment as soon as they were old enough to understand. They didn’t want them to be scared when they first witnessed it.
They were scared anyway.
Rory shook her head to pull herself from the hellish nightmare. “I miss you,” she whispered to her mother. “More than anything.”
Rory called in to work again. She didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with customers tonight, and when the night nurse showed up, she left to look for a release.
Sex was her way of decompressing, and tonight, she needed it more than ever. She headed downtown to Wonder and started her perusal.
After grabbing a beer, she turned and leaned her elbows on the bar. It wasn’t long before a man approached her. He was a little taller than her with perfect teeth, shaggy hair, and a sharp jawline.
“Can I buy your next drink?” he asked when he was close enough for her to hear.
She eyed him up and down and decided he would do. “Sure.”
“What is a woman like you doing out by yourself?”
She took a swig of beer and shrugged. “Just looking for a little fun.”
Her insinuation was clear, and the man’s face lit up like a teenager seeing a girl’s tits for the first time. “I’m Wyll.”
“Rory,” she said, wrapping her hand around his. His soul was a light shade of green. When he turned his head slightly, her eyes flitted to the mark behind his ear. A Sylph. Sylphs manipulated air, and she wondered if he was skilled enough to use it in bed. Some were.
“Would you like to take this conversation to your place?” she asked as she set her beer on the bar. “It’s hard to hear with all the loud music.”
He chuckled and motioned for her to follow him. “I would love that.”
By the time they stumbled into his apartment, they were ripping at each other’s clothes as their mouths moved in a sloppy dance. She was desperate as she shimmied out of her jeans, and his eyes were hungry as they raked down her body.
When they were both naked, he pounced. Her hands went to his already hard cock and stroked him a few times, making him moan into her mouth as he reached for her pussy.
His fingers rubbed circles over her labia, and she tried not to huff out a frustrated breath. Some men couldn’t find the clit if it slapped them in the face. She reached down and moved his fingers to the right spot, but he couldn’t keep them in one place.
“Grab a condom,” she told him, giving up on foreplay, and he reached down to his pants, pulling a packet out of his back pocket. Someone was confident tonight.
He quickly sheathed himself and guided Rory to the couch. It took him a few tries to push into her entrance, and when he did, he grunted. “This feels incredible.” He looked at their connected bodies. “I never expected it to feel this good.”
Oh, fuck. “Is this your first time?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But I’ve studied what to do.” Not well enough if he couldn’t find the clit.
Rory closed her eyes and sighed. “Alright, I’ll try to show you.” She grabbed his hand and placed his thumb over her clit. “This is the clit. Do not move your hand lower. If you do, it does no good.”
He stared at his thumb and nodded. “When you thrust, don’t jackhammer. Start out at a steady pace and rub circles with your thumb at the same time.” He nodded again. “If I say harder, that does not mean faster. You’ll thrust harder than you were, and if I say faster, you’ll thrust faster, not harder. If I tell you to do both, do both. Understand?”
He smiled. “Got it.” He moved his hips and pushed down on her clit.
“Rub circles,” she instructed. He obliged, and she sighed as she closed her eyes, letting the sensation take over. “Go a little faster.”
She lifted her hips to meet his with each stroke. At least he was a fast learner. “Yes,” she breathed. “Like that.” Her hands massaged her breasts, and she moaned. “Faster.”
His body began to convulse, and her eyes flew open. “Hold it. You have to last longer. Do not come yet.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, his dick began to pulse. “I can’t stop,” he said in a tight voice right before his cum filled the condom.
Rory stared at the ceiling miserably. “Pull out slowly and take off the condom without spilling it. Tie the end and throw it away.”
He pulled out, and with shaky hands, tried to remove the condom, but fumbled it. It landed on Rory’s stomach, splattering cum across her torso. She yelped and stood, throwing him to the floor. Her glare pinned him to the ground as he gaped at his cum dripping down her stomach.
“Get me a wet towel,” she snapped. “And next time, be careful.”
He scrambled to the bathroom and came out with a damp hand towel, and she snatched it out of his grasp. Without another word, she cleaned herself, dressed, and slammed the door on her way out.
So much for forgetting.
On Monday, Rory pulled herself together, asked the night nurse to come in early, and called Kordie’s salon.
“Kordelia’s Beauty Bar,” her friend’s voice chirped on the other end of the line.
Rory disguised her voice, making it as high pitched as possible. “Do you have a color spot open this afternoon?”
“Unfortunately, we’re booked for the rest of the month for color. Would you like to make an appointment for next month?” Kordie’s voice was polite and professional, and Rory held in her laugh.
She sighed dramatically into the phone and in her normal voice said, “I guess we’ll have to skip the color then.”
“Get your ass down here,” was Kordie’s immediate response. “There is no way I’m missing this opportunity.”
“I don’t want to put you in a tight spot,” Rory countered. “Really, we can do it next month.”
“I was lying. I have plenty of time this afternoon. We’ll get you in and out before your shift tonight.” Kordie hung up, not giving Rory a chance to argue.
When Rory walked into the salon, she plopped down in an empty chair as her friend finished her last client. When the woman walked out of the salon with hair that looked to be light grey streaked with black to Rory, Kordie crooked a finger. “Get over here.”
“I’m nervous,” Rory admitted as she sat.
Kordie wrapped a dark cape around her shoulders. “Don’t be. I’m the best at what I do.”
“Have your way with me.” Rory twisted in her seat. “But do NOT put a bright, obnoxious color in my hair. I will not hesitate to burn your shop to the ground.”
Kordie harrumphed. “Are you saying you think my hair is ugly?”
The Alchemist’s hair was back to the same color it was a few days ago. Purple, she remembered.
“You can pull it off,” Rory grumbled. “I cannot, nor do I want to.”
“Trust me.” With that, Kordie began mixing potions on the table next to her before saturating Rory’s long strands. “I’m going to add the silver strands to the ends starting here,” she said, motioning to the area around Rory’s ears. “Then I will melt your root color so it blends seamlessly.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Rory replied. “Do what you want.”
Kordie began separating and coloring, and within an hour or so, she poured another potion to dry the hair. The potions worked fast, and she was surprised her long hair didn’t take longer.
“Done,” Kordie announced, handing Rory a mirror to look at the back.
Rory gawked at her reflection. It looked amazing. The grey wove subtly into her hair, giving the ends dimension, and the rest was black.
She turned to look at Kordie, who had a smug smile on her face. “I told you.”
“You’re good,” Rory admitted. “I love it.”
“Let me clean up and we can head to Whiplash,” Kordie said as she bustled around the room to put stuff away. “I can’t wait for the guys to see.”
“What happened to your hair?” Dume asked as he sat at the bar and grabbed a cherry from the bar caddy.
She touched the ends. “You don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “It looks good. I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”
Rory smiled. “It does look good, doesn’t it?”
A loud whistle sounded from behind Dume, and Keith sauntered toward them. “You look hot.” He plopped onto the stool next to Dume, much to the Aatxe‘s dismay, and grabbed the drink Rory put in front of him. “You should have let Kordie get her hands on you months ago.”
“That’s what I said,” Kordie chimed in.
“Now that we have all established that my hair looked terrible before, can we stop talking about it?” Rory griped.
“You were hot before,” Keith amended. “But you’re hotter now.”
“You look fine either way,” Dume told her. “Stop being vain.”
Rory popped his arm with her bar towel. “Stop being a jerk.”
From there, their night proceeded as normal, and Rory was thankful for her friends who, over the years, became her family. Without them, she’d be lost.
