Chapter 14 #2
“I don’t remember actually agreeing to the cake testing,” Iris said. “You just assumed.” Even if it would be really hard to turn down such a treat. Iris had to admit that the surface people got one thing right. And that was food. Especially if it was deep fried or covered in icing.
“Oh, no. We’re cake testing for sure,” Selene said, rushing behind the counter to shove various items into a big crossbody bag.
Just before she moved out, Iris saw her grab a book—this one with a shirtless alien man embracing a human woman—and shove it in a cabinet drawer that was labeled Cursed Journals: Do Not Touch.
“Come on. Grab your books. Can I interest you in a steamy … where is the romance section?” Arden asked.
“I don’t want romance. I think I’m going to peruse the Good for Her section. Maybe some thrillers …” She glanced back between the two. “Can I trust you to behave without me for a few minutes?”
“Define behave,” Arden said.
“I’ll try not to turn him into a frog,” Selene shot back. “But no promises.”
Iris moved deeper into the bookstore, the sounds of Arden’s and Selene’s voices drifting away, the stress of the past day easing from her shoulders.
As much as she claimed she hadn’t agreed to cake testing, Iris was glad for a distraction.
She’d lucked out that Monty had been home that morning and full of stories about the exciting things that went down at the star-studded party he’d attended.
His never-ending talking had allowed her to avoid speaking to Finn as he got up and got ready for his day.
She wouldn’t even let herself look at him as he moved around the apartment.
Part of that was her frustration with him for forcing her to remember that their date had been fake all along—despite the very real feelings it had evoked in her.
The other part—the one she was desperately trying not to acknowledge—was that no matter how annoyed she was about how effortlessly Finn could fake real feelings; she couldn’t deny that there was still some definite yearning on her part.
Fine.
It was more than yearning.
It was the kind of aching that had kept her awake all night, tossing and turning and tangling in her sheets, leaving her feeling overheated and unsatisfied.
She couldn’t help but remember the way he’d kissed her, how his hands had teased and tantalized, how he’d been able to read her body so well, to give her exactly what she needed.
Iris was no stranger to all the lovely ways her own body could feel.
While she had never really found a love match in her past, she’d been as curious as the next woman when it came to casual dating and exploration with the oppos-ite sex.
Everything from that first awkward, uncertain fumbling to a few lovely weeks enjoying the company of a man she knew would never be more than whispered moans and gentle caresses.
But no one had ever been able to make her sing the way he could.
And it was just so disappointing that the man who could make her feel those things was the one with whom she could never have a real relationship.
She wasn’t sure Finn was capable of having a genuine connection with anyone.
Iris reached for the first cover that caught her eye.
Then another. And another. But as she made her way back toward the front of the store, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from grabbing another of Caprica Coraline’s books, even though she knew it was a romance.
A spicy one that was only going to compound those needy feelings inside her.
She couldn’t help it. Despite her current situation, she was a hopeless romantic at heart. She craved those warm and tingly sensations she got from seeing two characters fight for their love.
Sure, when she finished one of those books now, she was filled with a deep well of sadness at the idea of not being able to experience her own love story anytime soon. But she could live vicariously through the characters on the page.
“You sure you want this one?” Selene asked as she rang her order up. “This is extra romantic. I mean, they have a bunch of roadblocks, but it’s a pretty epic love story.”
“And how would you know that?” Arden asked, shooting her a devilish smirk. “It’s hard to take your anti-love campaign seriously when it sounds like you devoured that book in one sitting.”
“I skimmed it. One must understand the battlefield to dismantle the war machine.”
“Admit it. You can’t get enough of books where people kiss and cry and feel things.”
“I read it for purely academic purposes. I was studying the psychological repercussions of unrealistic expectations.”
“There’s nothing unrealistic about love and love stories.”
“Grand romantic gestures come to mind.”
“They exist in real life.”
“Oh, please. Real people don’t do grand romantic gestures. They forget your birthday and track dirt in on your rugs.”
“You’re kind of cute when you’re cynical.”
“And you’re kind of tolerable when you’re silent. So, let’s focus more on that. Anyway. Cake.”
“Don’t you have to worry about the store?” Iris asked as she hauled her tote bag onto her shoulder, grimacing a bit at the weight of it.
“Nah. Business is slow today anyway. You hear that, Gerty?” she called to the ghost. “You can start your inventory early today.”
“Wow, that’s rude,” Arden said.
“What’s rude?” Iris asked, looking behind her, where Arden’s gaze was, but not seeing anything.
“Your little old ghost lady just flipped you a double bird.”
“You can see her?”
“You can’t?”
“No. She walks through me sometimes, but that’s it.”
“She thinks that’s hilarious,” Arden said. “Also, she says you were reading a spicy romance and that you cried when the duke proposed at the masquerade.”
“I had something in my eye,” Selene insisted, chin jerking up. “It’s called disbelief.”
“Sure, sure, sweetheart,” he said, heading toward the door.
Selene turned back to the store in general and hissed a quiet, “Snitch!” at her ghostly predecessor.
“She wasn’t dealing with dementia at the end of her life, by the way,” Arden said.
“Then why is she always doing inventory?”
“Darling, what makes you think she’s doing inventory? She’s just screwing with you.”
Selene stopped to gape at him. “But why?”
“Something about a cash register.”
“Seriously? The ancient thing didn’t even work anymore!” Selene yelled into the store, making a book fall off a shelf. “Real mature,” she grumbled.
“She says you could get it fixed. In fact, she demands it.” As if to emphasize her point, another book flew off the shelf, whacking Iris in the shoulder.
“Ow,” Iris grumbled, leaning down to grab and right the book.
“It was her father’s cash register. She says it belongs on the counter he built, where you read your smutty books.” That last part made Arden’s lips twitch.
“Fine, you old bat. I’ll get the thing fixed. But I can’t actually use it. It doesn’t take credit cards. Let’s go. I need all the cake.”
With that, they were out.
“What’s wrong?” Selene asked when Iris hesitated at the top of the stairs that led down to, she assumed, the subway platform.
“I’ve never been,” she admitted.
“Really? What have you been doing since you came to the land? Walking everywhere?”
“I haven’t been going out much now that Monty has started his social climbing and networking. I’ve mostly been just getting food from local places and reading. And, you know, collecting bugs and teeth.”
“And trying to learn how to use her cell phone,” Arden added. “That accidental dial while you were belting out a Celine Dion chart-topper was hilarious, by the way.”
“Gee, thanks,” Iris said, wincing at the memory of realizing she hadn’t ‘been alone’ while she got dressed, like she thought.
“We’ve got you,” Selene said, sliding her arm through Iris’s and leading her down the steps.
“Are there vampires down here?” she asked.
“No need to whisper. It’s not a bad word,” Selene assured her.
“Do we have to … worry at all?”
From what Iris understood from her studies, history with more predatory paranormals like vampires had been vast and confusing. There’d been uprisings, assassinations, and many attacks and killings.
“Not anymore,” Selene assured her.
“They have to carry bite consent cards now. It’s all very gauche,” Arden supplied.
“I’ve seen those in a bunch of stores,” Iris said. “How do they work?”
“Vampires and donors alike have to carry cards. If the two parties agree to a feeding, each has to sign the other’s card to show they consented to it,” Arden explained.
“But … can’t vampires compel a human to sign even if they didn’t consent?” Iris asked.
“It’s not a perfect system,” Selene agreed. “But it was a major piece of legislation to make sure there were no more instances of anyone being drained. This way, the government can enforce punishments if a vampire does something bad.”
“They had to build specific prisons for vampires,” Arden went on as they walked into the mezzanine. “No windows. Blood banks. They’re very sleek.”
“Anyway, if they drain a human now, they get a ‘remainder of life’ sentence. So if they drained a twenty-year-old human who should have lived to eighty, they get the remaining sixty years in jail.”
“Actually, isn’t that the law that went into place after Finn’s father was killed?”
“Yeah, I think that was what got it pushed through, but it was working its way through the courts for a while before then,” Selene said. “You go with Arden through the turnstiles,” she said. “I have to use the booth.” She gestured toward where a person was sitting inside a booth.
“Why?”
“So I don’t use spells to avoid paying. Meet you on the other side.”
With that, they made their way onto the subway platform, where Iris tried not to gawk at a crew of vampires—dressed in stereotypical all-black—as they made their way off of a subway car and into the dark tunnels in the walls that allowed them to move through the city without exposure to the deadly sunlight.
Iris comforted herself with the fact that even many of the other humans and paranormals watched the group disappear.
They clambered onto the train, and Iris checked out the enchanted graffiti that shimmered and shifted as the subway whooshed forward, making her stomach feel like it was taking off ahead of her body.
“Yeah, I think I’d rather walk,” she declared as they made their way up the steps at their stop. She still felt like she was moving, even when she stood still.
“You get used to it,” Selene assured her. “Now, let’s go eat a whole red velvet cake before we decide it’s the wrong choice for your wedding that isn’t going to happen.”
And that was exactly what they did.
Even though they were all operating under the assumption that the wedding would not take place, they’d all agreed to a white cake with vanilla bean frosting.
“Seashells and stars instead of flowers, obviously,” Arden had told the baker.
Iris felt a little churning in her stomach at the idea of never getting to see that cake.
But she went ahead and blamed the tummy ache on too many sweets.