Chapter Twenty-one
Indigo
Two Weeks Later
“This is outrageous,” I hissed into the phone’s receiver. “Unjust! Cruel, even!”
“You’re being covered in rhinestones, not stoned to death,” Lydia shot back from the other end of the line.
I could tell the heartless girl was smiling as she spoke.
She was probably kicking the strappy heels she’d bought to show off to Angelo behind her as she stuffed her nose into an absurdly large book. It was her way.
“I’m pink!” I raged into the phone. “Wearing pink spandex at my age should be a capital crime!”
Lydia’s laugh trilled over the line. Absurdly, it made me feel better.
The fact that she was alive, even if she was a patchwork crime against nature, was nothing short of a miracle.
I’d begun to approach the Goddess in worship again after so many years of skulking in the shadows.
A feat this large could only happen through determined witches and divine intervention.
I could handle a bit of gentle ribbing if it meant I didn’t have to face the alternative.
“Do you think I look bad in pink?” she asked.
I could hear the suppressed mirth in her voice.
It warmed something in my chest. She was alive.
Alive and laughing at me, but still. “I mean, it is my original body. I’m in the upgrade.
You’re stuck with the prototype. Is it everything you wanted, or is it defective because it can’t pull off magenta? ”
I scuffed the toe of the spiked boot I’d been given on the hardwood floor.
I was pacing the foyer of a dusty colonial home while I fielded this call.
It had been done up in shlock B-movie style, complete with monsters that would lunge out at you from shadowy corners.
It was late afternoon and the vampires who ran the place weren’t up yet.
I was even early for the daytime staff, who didn’t begin setting things up until five o’clock.
The haunted house had started as a way to plausibly deny any monster tales circulating around the Hollow.
It had transformed into a sort of halfway home for wayward creatures.
Anyone who wanted temporary lodging while they passed through or a place to stay when they had none settled here.
A witch had sold the idea that a traveling circus had broken down on Main Street in a desperate attempt to explain dragons, sirens, and other creepy crawlies that had spilled out of a faerie portal.
The result was a permanent fixture of a big top full of monsters in the colonial’s backyard.
It had been a hit from the moment it had been established.
The transplants from our sister Hollow, Misty Hollow, had set up trailers for their people on site, and I’d been invited to room with an oversexed imp named Anne. She’d been the one to select my outfit.
My very pink outfit.
“No,” I said with a sigh. “You don’t look bad in magenta.”
With the addition of the succubus that had glommed onto her soul, Lydia looked good in just about everything.
I had to admit that it was a little undignified to find myself the ‘ugly’ stepsister.
We explained away the small differences between our physical appearances, claiming we were fraternal twins.
I had to admit, I liked that part. It was like having a family again.
If I could find and free Estelle and Livinia from Murrain’s grasp, I might feel.
.. happy. Perish the thought. It was just sad that my newfound kin was hotter than I was.
Lydia’s body was plenty attractive, but I wasn’t literally part sex demon.
Koloth, sure, though even that had dwindled.
She’d soaked up most of the demonic energy I’d absorbed, leaving me with greater control over water and shadow, thanks to the kelpie and hag respectively.
Which was why I was in pink. It popped against the shadowy show I’d been hired to put on.
The rhinestone-studded bodice would pop against all the undulating darkness.
I would insist on red next time. It just wasn’t my color, regardless of what looked good on Lydia’s body.
I was the least pink person on the planet.
I didn’t bubble, prance, or blush. I was a fucking witch, and that meant I had an obligation to wear more distinguished shades when on stage.
“Good. Because I found this mauve teddy at Wanda’s show, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint Angelo when I model it tonight.”
I rolled my eyes. “As if you need to spend hundreds at that shop. Angelo would still ravish you even if you approached him in a garbage bag and oversized clown shoes.”
Another laugh bubbled into my ear, and I bit my cheek to contain an answering smile.
I wasn’t a smiley person, but I found myself doing it more and more.
The relief of being stationed in a Hollow with winter sentries that the Queen Regent trusted was incredible.
Taliyah had finally taken Fox’s advice and given her royal guard something to do.
It meant that the Hollow was safer now than it had ever been before.
I was in the closest thing to a fortress I could find.
So perhaps I should have stopped bitching about the bodice and ruffled skirts.
Even if they were pink.
“Are you really miserable or did you just want an excuse to call?” Lydia asked, shaking me from my irreverent train of thought.
“Why would I need an excuse to call?” I sniffed. “I can call whenever I damn well please.”
“Because witches break out in hives when exposed to tender emotion,” she informed me smugly. “You’ve called twice a day every day this week. You can just admit you’re worried about me, you know? It won’t kill you to say that you care.”
“But why take the chance?” I asked, flipping a strand of inky hair over my shoulder. This hairstyle left a few strands loose on my neck, and I hated it. I always felt like someone was brushing my shoulders, and my heart would jump when I turned to find no one there.
Another laugh. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop pushing. But seriously, I need your answer on Friday’s dinner party. Come over, please. I don’t want to meet my future in-laws alone.”
It would serve her right if I abandoned her to the amorous whims of Angelo’s family.
From all accounts, his parents were stereotypically promiscuous as you’d expect.
Lydia didn’t have to worry about her mother-in-law hating her guts.
It was more likely that she’d be propositioned for a threesome over dinner than have a screaming match with his parents.
That was about as painfully awkward as it got.
Of course she needed a buffer witch. It was the only way the dinner wouldn’t descend into mass chaos and nudity.
“Fine,” I huffed. “Do I need to bring a date?”
Because I wasn’t certain about bringing Anthony to a gathering full of demons.
He was a stickler for justice, and I was certain that both of Angelo’s parents were involved in white-collar crime of some sort.
It was how most demons acquired mortal money.
But if I didn’t go with someone, I was certain Angelo’s father would try to seduce me at some point.
Call me jaded, but I was through with my wild years.
I was too tired to deal with the constant appetite of a demon. So who did that leave?
“Might be for the best,” Lydia said, seeming to think along the same lines as me. “Is Anthony available anyway?”
“No,” I said, the word leaving my mouth before I could really think about it. “He’s busy.”
I wasn’t sure why I was lying, except to spare her feelings.
I knew that she felt guilty for keeping us apart.
It was ludicrous, of course. I’d been a squatter in her body back then, and I didn’t want her sleeping with Anthony to satisfy some kind of imaginary obligation she felt to me.
Even now, it felt strange to be near him in this body—which still wasn’t mine.
I felt something for him, but increasingly, I was beginning to think it wasn’t enough.
Anthony couldn’t be with me publically, and.
.. it wasn’t fair. Not to either of us. I didn’t want to be his dirty little secret.
He shouldn’t have to avoid rubbing elbows with me to preserve his reputation as an upright bounty hunter.
I wasn’t going to muddle things by taking him on a date when I wasn’t sure we were even compatible.
“Shame,” Lydia said offhandedly. There was a light, fluttering sound on the other end of the line as she flipped through some ancient tome.
“What are you reading?” I asked with dry humor in my tone. “Is it my mother’s book of shadows? Again?”
I swore she’d poured over all three journals more than I had.
Somehow, she was able to interpret it better than I’d been able to.
It didn’t seem fair. She hadn’t been born a witch, and yet her gift was more compatible with mother’s magic than mine seemed to be.
I might have resented it, if I weren’t so damned relieved she was alive.
“There’s a lot of good stuff in here,” she said defensively. “Like this bit about the masked king.”
My eyebrows shot up. “The what?”
Lydia clucked her tongue. “I mean, it makes sense. If there are lords, there’s probably a rank or two higher, right?
I don’t think anything you were sold is the actual reason the operation started.
I think it has to do with this guy. From what I can tell from your mother’s book, he’s dimensionally locked or something.
There has to be some serious ritual preparation to bring him into our world. ”
A chill traced its way down my spine. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Grief and anger had blinded me to anything but the possibility of power, no matter how distasteful I found the process of getting it.
I regretted that now. I wished I’d never gotten involved, but I couldn’t change the past. I could only fight whatever Murrain and the other Masked Lords had in mind.
“That sounds ominous,” I muttered.
“Not as ominous as Friday night’s dinner party,” Lydia said, a touch of whine in her voice now. “Please save me.”
“I’ll act as your witchy shield, don’t worry.”
A sigh gusted over the other side of the line. “Thank you so much, Indie. I’ll owe you big time.”
As if I’d ever collect. The foolish former gypsy had given me more than I’d ever dreamed of. I had a new lease on life with her old body, a home, and a job, no matter how demeaning. As long as I stayed in the borders of the Hollow, I was safe. Well, as safe as any of us ever were.
A bell jangled distantly and Lydia said a hasty goodbye, hanging up before I could reply.
It left me standing in my ridiculous costume, pacing the entryway, waiting for the contractor that William, Wanda’s vampire brother, insisted I show around.
The crunch of gravel tires outside made me wince.
Someone to see me in this ridiculous getup. Wonderful.
My bad mood evaporated when a tall, strapping, and very familiar figure entered, carrying a toolbox and a ladder under one arm. RJ’s face brightened when he spotted me in the middle of the foyer glowering at the door.
“Indigo!”
“RJ,” I said, surprised when my voice came out soft and uncertain. I wasn’t sure he’d want to see me after the nightmare I’d dragged him into weeks ago. “What are you doing here?”
He raised the toolbox. “Maintenance. I’ve sort of become William’s unofficial handyman. I’m the only one who does weird hours around here. I should have guessed he was a vampire. I never see him in the daytime.”
But who expected a teenage-presenting person to be one of the walking dead? He looked more like a cover model than a vampire. Too young for me but certainly handsome enough if you liked the type.
“So you work here often?”
RJ nodded. “Most weeks. I didn’t know you worked here. How long has that been going on?”
I shrugged, dropping my gaze to the bodice of my ridiculous outfit.
It suddenly felt too revealing, with his appreciative gaze on me.
It wasn’t often I got flustered around a man.
I’d chalk it up to post-resurrection jitters.
It also wasn’t often that I got to experience a new body with new hormones. That had to be it, right?
“A few days. I needed a job, you know?” I looked at him and shook my head because I’d never had a job in my life. But here I now was, a working girl. “I’m working on a couple of acts for the haunted house attraction.”
“Are you?” RJ did his best to keep his laugh to himself. Smart man.
“Right. My main thing will be shadow work, but I can stand in for the fire breathers and water-based acts if I have to. I’m sort of the jack of all trades here.”
His smile was dazzling. “Me too. Want to show me the trailer in lot B that has the busted roof? I’m going to be up there awhile. You can stick around and chat if you want. The show doesn’t start until eight, so you’ve got time. Unless you want to practice your act now?”
The uncertain way he tugged his lip between his teeth made my chest twinge. I took his hand on impulse and gave it a squeeze.
“I’ll keep you company for a while if you agree to go to a dinner party with me on Friday. I need a plus one, or Angelo’s father is going to perv on me all night. Are you willing to take the brunt of an incubus’ attention for me?”
RJ’s smile turned a little mischievous. “What if he likes me better than you?”
“Then he’d have good taste,” I answered with a laugh.
RJ’s gaze flicked to me for an instant, serious and searching. I didn’t stop him when he used his grip on my hand to pull me in closer. He dipped his chin briefly and, before I could move, he’d pressed a gentle kiss to my mouth. It was almost heartbreakingly chaste.
“Was that okay?” he whispered.
“Only if you do it again,” I answered, voice low and a little roughened by the surge of powerful emotion battering through me. I didn’t know what it meant. I just knew I liked it a lot. Liked him a lot.
“Well, I’ll never say no to a lady,” he said with a cheeky grin.