"Dyson!" Fatigue made Lauren's voice sharp.
"Aw, come on, doc! All work and no play – it's not good for your health!" Dyson was pulling the sleeve of Lauren's shirt, made bold by quite a lot of the finest ale the Dal had to offer.
"Read my lips: I am. Not. Going to shoot pool. With you. And Tamsin." Lauren rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm tired. And it's your fault – you're the one who sent me on this wild goose chase for the last four days." All she wanted was to sleep. The only reason she was at the inn was the wine in front of her and the faint hope that it would wind her down far enough to make rest at least a possibility.
She tried to blot out Dyson who kept badgering her until Trick came to take away her empty glass and shooed the Wolfman away.
"It wasn't really a wild goose chase," the innkeeper gently chided.
"I know!" Lauren snapped, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Trick. I've had next to no sleep trying to develop a Fae measle vaccine and convincing what feels like a million complaining Elders to get their clan members to come to the clinic for immunisation. Not to mention an apocalypse-rambling Oracle who preferred to scoop her eyes out rather than endure her end-of-day visions. And now Bo is going on an undercover cheerleading mission?" She didn't add 'and with Tamsin, of all people?' She knew she was even less suitable for pom-pom swinging than the Valkyrie, but she was damned if she'd let herself be sidelined by Bo's new ... partner. Partner. Ha!
She put the stopper back on the bottle of her exasperation and buried her face in her palms. "I wish there was a vaccine for weariness..."
"Well, I can at least offer you an antidote." Trick patted Lauren's arm and poured her another glass of wine.
"I think what the doctor needs is something a little more spirited." A contralto like honey dripped into Lauren's ear and made her look up. The voice belonged to a slender woman whose coffee-coloured skin stood in breathtaking contrast to the most luminous green eyes Lauren had ever seen. Trick stared at her open-mouthed, and Lauren, to her slight embarrassment, couldn't help but mirror his expression.
The woman chuckled warmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You are Doctor Lewis, aren't you?" Lauren nodded. "My name is Yeva. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Finally?" Lauren had found her tongue again.
"I was looking for you at your clinic," Yeva said. "There is a medical matter that might warrant your attention but -" she held up a hand "- I wouldn't want to infringe on your obviously badly needed free time. Please accept my apologies, along with the proposed drink, of course." She glanced at Trick, silently ordering the best liquor in his store, laid money on the counter and turned to go.
"No, wait," Lauren heard herself say. "Please, sit down. I didn't mean to be rude. Why don't you ... share with me?" Her fatigue had lifted, taking her bad temper with it. The woman's mesmerising eyes and her soothing voice suddenly seemed much more enticing than sleep.
Yeva smiled and gracefully slid onto the bar stool. And just as gracefully, she wrapped Lauren in the most pleasant conversation she'd had in a long time.
###
Bo didn't even make it five steps into the Dal before Tamsin's arm around her shoulder broke her stride.
"Hey, hottie," Tamsin beamed. "Thank Fae you're finally here! Your ex is trying to mansplain pool to me, and I'm about to skin him, stuff him and hang him up over the fireplace." She pulled Bo towards the pool table, chatting a mile a minute. Bo caught a glimpse of Lauren sitting at the bar with a glass of amber liquid in front of her and a beautiful stranger next to her. The wave she had been about to give died midway as Bo stared at the two.
Lauren hadn't even noticed her.
She interrupted Tamsin's prattling. "Who the hell is that woman chewing Lauren's ear?"
Dyson glanced up from his cue stick. "Stunning, isn't she? Considering the good doctor was so tired that she sent me packing when I asked her to play with us, she looks remarkably lively now."
Bo raised an eyebrow. "Lively indeed..." She couldn't stop staring, her succubus instincts on fire. A few dark brown ringlets had escaped from the stranger's pony-tail, setting off her high cheekbones, finely sculpted chin and slender neck. Full lips curled into a warm smile that dimpled the corners of her mouth, emerald eyes shone bright enough to light up half the room but were only on Lauren.
The jacket of the stranger's power suit lay on the empty bar stool, and the pale blue blouse the jacket must have hidden at one point was sleeve-less, low cut and so painted-on that it left little to the imagination. The long supple muscles of her arms made Bo briefly reconsider her dislike for regular work-outs. Even more enticing, however, was the glimpse of a lace bra and the gentle swelling of breasts the blouse allowed.
Almost against her will, Bo's eyes wandered over to Lauren who didn't reveal anything obviously sexy in her simple dark blue button-up and jeans. This was just after-hours Lauren, her hands doing half the talking like they always did when she was geeking out.
And despite the strange woman's considerable appeal, she couldn't hold a candle to the blonde beauty next to her.
"Hey, maybe the doc will join us now!" Dyson grinned, and Bo noticed that his tongue was swimming in a puddle of beer. Before she could stop him, he was halfway to the bar.
"Ladiiiies," he chanted as he wrapped one tipsy arm around each of them. "Can a lonely wolf lure you into the cue-and-felt woods?"
Lauren took one look at Yeva's mildly affronted expression and glided off her bar stool, pushing Dyson away in the process. Hands on the front of his leather vest, she backed him up until they were out of earshot.
"Wolfie, you know I love you, but you've had one too many, and I'm even less inclined to join your little party now than I was -" She realised she had lost track of time.
"- an hour ago." Dyson finished her sentence, grinning from ear to ear. "I totally dig you, doc. I wouldn't let a stunner like that slip away either!"
"Er, what?" Lauren blinked. "Who? Her? We were just talking..."
"Talking," he mimicked. "Well, if you aren't interested, Bo over there definitely is. She hasn't taken her eyes off the two of you since she waltzed into the Dal."
"Bo is here? I didn't... I hadn't realised..." She craned her neck and found Bo staring right past her and at Yeva.
"Here and in a mood", Dyson said. "She wanted to know who you're chatting up."
Lauren brought the Wolfman back into focus. "I am most definitely not chatting anyone up!"
"Whatever." He shrugged. "To be honest, I'm kinda curious, too. I've never seen her before."
"Her name is Yeva," Lauren said. "And she's... Well, she's..." All of a sudden, suspicion caught up with her and placed a familiar hand on her arm.
Dyson winked, grabbed a beer from Trick who was passing by with a full tray and ambled off to the pool table. Lauren hurried after the innkeeper.
"Trick! Trick, um, Dyson said... Well, I shouldn't have to ask, I've been talking to her long enough now, but ... do you happen to know anything about this, er, Yeva?"
"Well," Trick looked grave. "Since you asked, I must warn you, my friend. You have been lured into the snares of a Zoë."
"A what?"
"A Zoë. Light Fae, very old, very rare. Very powerful."
Lauren was surprised that in her extensive studies, she had never come across this type of Fae before. "And they're dangerous? But – 'Zoë' means 'life' in Greek?"
"Ah, I knew I wouldn't catch you off-guard," Trick chuckled. "You're right, of course, they're benevolent. I was only pulling your leg." He put the tray on a table and started walking towards his private quarters. "I cannot remember all the details, but they're in my encyclopaedia, if you'd like to have a look?"
Lauren was torn between scientific curiosity and the strange Fae's very personal magnetism.
Then Bo made up her mind for her.
Putting on her best Sunday sashay and in full succubus mode, she zeroed in on Yeva. And while Lauren was more than entranced by the sway of Bo's hips as they seemed ready to burst from the confines of her tight leather pants, her earlier fatigue returned with a vengeance.
Bottling up her love, curbing her desire, being the friend she thought Bo needed, was one of the most exhausting endeavours Lauren had ever tasked herself with. She knew that Bo couldn't offer anything more at the moment, knew that Bo had enough on her plate and that the complexities of their relationship would be too big a challenge.
Sometimes Lauren felt as if even a friendship was not within Bo's range right now. She had changed. Maybe it was the heartbreak of losing Kenzi, twice; maybe it was whatever she had to go through in Valhalla; Lauren didn't know. She couldn't ask, either, because every time she tried to reach out, Bo slipped away.
Wearily, Lauren sank into the sofa Trick kept a little seperate from the noisy part of the Dal. Someone had found their way to the juke box Trick had installed, convinced that music would spruce up his establishment, and a few couples were beginning to dance.
If she was being as honest with herself as she would liked to think, she hadn't felt this lonely since before Bo had come into her life. And it hurt. It hurt to remember the sounds of Bo and Dyson banging their brains out, in Lauren's clinic of all places. It hurt to see how easily Bo had let Tamsin replace both Kenzi and herself, and it hurt how the Valkyrie was using every opportunity for rubbing Lauren's nose in it.
Yeva, whoever she was, had been the perfect balm. And now Bo had set her sight on her, and Lauren knew exactly what would happen.
###
How the hell did that happen? Bo was dumbfounded. She had turned the full klieg-lights of seduction on the beautiful stranger, and the woman – what kind of name was Yeva anyway? – had proven immune. She had slowly pulled her arm from under Bo's hand and complimented her on her "manual prowess", but the touch hadn't affected her in the least. Politely but unmistakably, Yeva had given Bo a brush-off, excusing herself and, to add insult to injury, strolling away to join Lauren on the sofa.
The very sofa where Lauren had given Bo the first real-world succubus exam all those years ago. Where they had almost kissed. Bo's heart clenched into a fist.
Sharply, she turned on her heels and started towards Dyson and Tamsin.
"Dammit," she whispered to herself. Dyson. Tamsin. It hit her that she was in no position to judge Lauren for the company she kept.
And yet... Withdrawing to the remotest end of the Dal's wooden counter, Bo watched how the green eyes never left Lauren, how the smile from those luscious lips lit up at something witty Lauren must have said, and how every word in their animated conversation breathed new life into Lauren's tired frame. Bo could have sworn that even her hair became more vibrant, its golden waves shining brighter by the minute.
Bo sat up so sharp, she banged her funny-bone on the solid oak of the counter and swore. This wasn't happening! It couldn't be happening...
Yeva had unfolded her long legs from the sofa and stood holding out an inviting hand. She was asking Lauren to dance. To dance! Lauren half-turned towards the open space that was filling up by the minute. She hesitated – but Bo knew her reluctance was mostly show. The tilt of her head, the slow smile, the shy glance were all too familiar. Lauren's mouth might be saying "I'd rather not", but her whole body said "convince me".
Memories of her own brand of persuasiveness washed over Bo. How her fingers would caress the strong chin with the lightest touch, her thumb running gently over her lower lip while her eyes held Lauren's captive. How she would brush a strand of hair away from her lover's face and not quite kiss the spot beneath her ear until Lauren shifted her weight just enough to close the tiny gap. How she would linger there for a moment, then gently run her tongue along Lauren's earlobe and tell her exactly what she would like to do next. The first small gasp, the pulse beating harder, breath growing shorter. And she remembered the desire soaring through her when Lauren eventually dropped her playful pretense and surrendered.
She needed a drink. Several, in fact. "And Trick, can you turn the damn heaters down? It's getting like a sauna here, now that everybody's dancing!"
"Literally everybody!" Trick was so delighted that his strategy paid off, he ignored the sharpness in Bo's voice. "Even Lauren. What a sight for my old eyes!"
Bo whipped around. No doubt about it, not only was Lauren dancing, she was cutting a more than handsome figure doing it.
"I have never seen Lauren dance before," Trick said.
"Yeah, well, guess what – neither have I." Bo's mood was coming to a slow boil.
Trick looked at his granddaughter: "You seem to be in a bit of a temper tonight, my dear. I have noticed that you were preoccupied lately. Is anything the matter?"
"Nothing is 'the matter'," she grouched. The paternal concern frayed Bo's nerves even more. "Just get me another shot, Gramps."
Trick took the hint of the turned shoulder and left the bottle with her, shaking his head. The Blood King didn't approve of being snapped at twice in one evening. Lauren at least had a reason to be short-tempered, and the grace to apologise.
His ill humour was entirely lost on Bo who was glued to the spectacle on the floor. Lauren danced the way she did almost everything: with passion kept under a fine layer of control. Among the sprawling rowdiness of the other dancers, she was smooth elegance with just a hint of the internal fire waiting to be unleashed, and in Yeva, she had a partner to match.
Partner... Ha!
Bo watched as Lauren's face flushed brighter with the rhythm from the speakers. She could almost see the light sweat on her skin, and her mouth went dry when Lauren slipped out of her button-up and threw it carelessly over an empty chair. The white tank top underneath clung to her lithe body, shifting slightly with every swing of her hips. Bo downed another shot when Gloria Gaynor's defiant declaration that she would survive turned into an original Rat Pack rendition of "Strangers In The Night", and Lauren let Yeva pull her, smiling and without any resistance, into a ballroom embrace that made Bo cough up most of her drink.
The sight of blonde and dark beauty swaying together sent waves of heat through her. She bit her lower lip. She could feel Lauren's touch on Yeva as if it were on herself, on her shoulder and in her palm, and the slow roll of Lauren's hip over her leg during the turns, eyes locked in a dance of their own. Her hands had cherished the delicious ripples of Lauren's shifting back muscles so often that her fingers involuntarily started caressing the counter-top. She stopped herself with a muttered curse, but the tightness in her chest, in her throat and between her thighs only increased. Arousal and jealousy fought a battle that would know only one loser: herself.
The rumba ended, but relief was fleeting. Apparently, a new amateur DJ had taken contol over the juke box, and the next song was an almost ridiculously racy number that Bo had heard on the radio so often that she could sing along. She briefly wondered how something so explicit had made it into Trick's collection, then she saw Yeva heading for the bar and more wine, and her eyes were drawn back to the floor.
Bed, stay in bed...
Bo could sense Lauren's hesitation at being left alone like that, but then a sassy smile licked the corner of her mouth, and she stayed to dance by herself. Apparently, the song was familiar to her, too.
...the feeling of your skin locked in my head...
Bo saw Yeva lean with her back to the bar as she waited for her order, following Lauren's sensuous moves and leisurely undressing her with her eyes.
...smoke smoke me broke...
Just like Bo.
...I don't care, I'm down for what you want...
Lost in the music, Lauren was oblivious of being pivotal in a war of vision that escalated when she raised her arms and gathered up her hair to let a breath of air kiss her neck. The slight stretch made her top finally lose contact with the waistband of her low-slung jeans.
...now if we're talking body, you got a perfect one...
The succubus licked her lips and moaned tonelessly. Through half-closed lids, she traced the contours of Lauren's slender neck, letting her gaze wander over her finely toned biceps, her ribs and breasts underneath the hugging tank top down to the band of naked skin, from a hint of navel down to an idea of hip bone, pulsing with the music's throbbing beats.
...lips, lips I kiss, bite me while I taste your fingertips...
A perfect starting point for slowly rolling up the top, lips and hands caressing every newly bared inch; or for unbuttoning those tight jeans and sliding them down, right along with whatever Lauren was wearing underneath...
...if you love me right, we fuck for life, on and on and on...
Bo dug her nails deep into her palms and glanced at Yeva. The other woman wasn't looking at the dance floor anymore. She was watching Bo with a knowing smile.
That smile, piled on top of her hunger to touch, to feel, to taste cut through Bo's last thread of self-control. She uncoiled with an almost feline pounce and rushed the floor, grabbing Lauren's wrist and half-pulled, half-dragged her to a storage room at the back of the inn. Opening the door with her hip, Bo pushed her in and slammed it shut with Lauren's back. She pinned her to the wood and descended upon her neck, roaming down one side and back up on the other, taking slivers of skin between her teeth, bringing short gasps from Lauren's lips that spurred her on to nip just a little harder.
"Ow! Bo..." Lauren arrested Bo's head between her palms and brought her face to face. Her soft brown eyes were already burning with desire. "What are you doing?" she whispered.
"I'm taking what belongs to me," Bo purred. She kissed her, rough, deep, fierce, then ran her hands down Lauren's front, ripping the tank top apart. "I'm claiming you." While her thumbs raked Lauren's breasts, she feasted on her moans as they became more desperate. Locked in a frenzied kiss, Bo pulled Lauren's legs around her, lifting and carrying her to the workbench at the back of the storage room.
With lips, tongue, teeth, fingers, she nibbled and teased and tasted and rolled Lauren's tips until she braced herself with her hands behind her and arched her back. Then Bo yanked her boots and jeans off.
The first touch of smooth leather pants against the fire between her thighs made Lauren whimper. She shifted closer, wanting more, needing more, digging calves and heels into Bo who ignored the urgent thrust of hips against her.
"Not yet," she murmured.
Lauren groaned. "Bo... Please..."
But Bo only smiled and returned to Lauren's breasts, scraping nails, leaving thin white lines, etching a mark, a sign of possession, however fleeting, into her flesh. "You are mine," she breathed before she took the firm swelling into her mouth again, drawing and tugging. She could almost feel the tiny vessels burst under her tongue and the love bite spread across the creamy skin.
"Oh God! Bo – please!"
Slowly and never breaking contact with Lauren's eyes, Bo trailed her hand in lazy spirals down her lover's trembling body and dipped between her legs. The touch made Lauren jump, yelp, but Bo withdrew and laid her fingers softly between her own lips and Lauren's, letting them both get a taste. "Hmm," she whispered. "I believe you're ready now."
The deep moan turned into a roar when Bo finally gave in to the frantic pleas, filling Lauren's yearning with long slow dives that tore her apart and choked in her throat. Bo became oblivious to anything but Lauren's writhing body, her soundless screams, head thrown back, every muscle bowstring tight, hips rocking against her, fingers in her, pulsing, and on her, scratching, until release raged through them both in a blinding blaze.
Shaking and breathing hard, Lauren clung to Bo for dear life as the searing heat passed and the ashes began to cool. Then she placed the softest kiss on Bo's lips, smiled into her eyes and said quietly: "You don't have to claim me. I'll always be yours."
The kiss sank deeper and deeper into a dark chasm, and Bo lost herself in it, tumbled, dropped. She felt her eyes turn bright blue as she started drawing Lauren's chi, carefully at first, then greedily until the light brown eyes swam and Lauren's body went limp. Panic-stricken, Bo tried to tear herself away but -
"Hey!" A sharp slap on her arm jolted her awake. "Earth to Bo!" Tamsin peered at her from boozy lids. "We're outa here, the Wolfman and I – all this sappy slo-mo twerking makes me wanna hit someone. You comin'?"
Bo slowly shook her head. She was punch-dazed, turned on and terrified at the same time. Tamsin waited for a proper answer, then shrugged and took off. Following her angry retreat, Bo caught sight of Lauren leaning against the back of a chair, wine in hand, chatting with Yeva, relaxed, and very much alive. Bo's mind was spinning, her senses torn between the graphic memories of her day-dream and the simple truth that, naturally, Lauren was entirely unaware of it.
Before Bo could turn her eyes away, Lauren flashed her one of her curly-lipped smiles so warm that for the briefest of moments, the world stopped, the music faded, slowing motion, muting all light except for one dazzling beam between Bo and the woman her jealous mind had just ravished and drained.
Monster – the word hit her chest like a freight-train. The only reason why Bo didn't have to think of herself as a monster anymore, was Lauren. The only reason why she could still think of herself as human, was Lauren.
For a split second, she found herself in Lauren's shoes. Held as a slave by the Fae in the world for which she was hopelessly under-equipped. And yet she had survived, by her wits alone, friendless, isolated. Even when Bo was running from the law and from herself, changing towns every few weeks, she had always been quick to find people she could hang out with, drinking buddies. As superficial as these were, they were company. She knew Lauren had made a few luke-warm allies among the Fae, she could call in a few favours for services rendered, but for years, she didn't have anyone to share even the simple pleasure of watching a football game or a horror movie on TV.
Until Bo came along. Since then, she had been the centre of Lauren's universe. Lauren had committed her mind, her body, her heart to Bo. And her life.
She could still see Lauren's smooth skin break under her nails. Hear the small cries of pain and passion Bo's teeth forced from her. Taste the sweetness of her chi. Feel Lauren's warm body turn cold. What if she had ever lost control like that, only once? Every time they made love, every time they kissed, Lauren laid her life in Bo's hands. Knowingly and willingly. Trusting her blindly.
Bo's mind went into overdrive, armies of emotions fighting a vicious battle in her heart. She needed air. Slipping into the alley behind the Dal, she leaned against a grimy wall. Even the smell of rotting garbage, stale beer and urine was preferable to the closeness of the bar, the blazing auras of couples flirting, dancing, making out. And with each gulping breath she was blinded anew by the insight that she wouldn't have survived a single week of Lauren's life in the Ash's servitude. She may be the most powerful Fae ever, but she had nothing on Lauren's quiet strength.
###
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I could keep up with you on the floor anymore," Lauren smiled, still a little winded, when Yeva asked her for another dance. "Common sense should have sent me to bed hours ago. I assume it's mostly due to the release of adrenaline triggered by the successful completion of a task that I was able to ward off -" She checked herself and took a deep breath. "Oh, for Fae's sake, who am I trying to fool?" She looked down to the tips of her boots, then up at Yeva again. "It was you. You've made this evening … more than memorable. Thank you."
Yeva sketched a bow with her head and returned the smile. "In that case, it would give me the greatest pleasure if you allowed me to escort you home."
She held out a hand to Lauren whose gaze was inadvertently drawn to the bar's counter. Bo was gone, leaving a shot glass and an almost empty bottle behind. Lauren sighed. When she'd glanced over, there had been that familiar blend of hunger and lust in Bo's eyes. Lauren thought she could venture a pretty good guess where the succubus was. But she had also seen a hint of the sadness and self-loathing that she remembered from the first years of knowing Bo. It was that look that made her scan the room before she took Yeva's warm hand and followed her outside.
###
As the taxi pulled away from the curb in front of Lauren's apartment building, she chuckled wistfully. "You know, I can dimly remember a time when being taken home at the end of an evening like this was the most normal thing in the world. Now it seems like something that only happens in a fairy tales..."
"Well, if it is a fairy tale -" Yeva cupped Lauren's cheek, and again, her warm contralto caressed Lauren's ears "- how would you like it to end?" Then she leaned in, laying her lips gently on Lauren's.
Thousands of tiny firecrackers went off in every cell of Lauren's body. They ignited each other, cannoning through her veins and sparking in her brain. For a brief moment, she lost herself, savouring an almost forgotten sensation – the last time she'd been kissed seemed so long ago. Before Kenzi died. Before Bo...
Bo. Her name, her taste, her touch, univited but inevitable. Lauren shifted her weight, breaking contact.
"I can't," she said. "I'm sorry. It has nothing to do with you, it's..."
Yeva stopped her with a light finger against her lips. "I know. I've seen the look in your eyes when you smiled at her. I am very old, Lauren, and there aren't many things I haven't seen. Your love for her is rare, among humans and Fae." She hailed another cab. "I have neither the means nor the intention to compete with that. I will be gone tomorrow, and I doubt you'll ever see me again. But if you change your mind..." Handing her a hotel key card, she let her thumb play for a moment on Lauren's fingers, then kissed them at their joint and drove off.
Lauren took the stairs to her apartment slowly. In a daze, she walked to the panorama window in her living-room and stared into the night. The open space behind her seemed too vast for comfort, yet the walls were closing in on her. She rested her forehead against the cool glass. A few firecrackers were still wreaking havoc with her nerves, bringing flitting thoughts and images with them: of Yeva, who was so obviously there, and of Bo, who so painfully wasn't.
During her first years with the Fae, bottomless fear, for her life and Nadia's, had kept even the thought of sex at bay, and she got used to the celibate life of her lab. Making science her mistress was easy because Lauren had always been in love with the unwavering clarity it brought. She had built a seemingly impenetrable dam of specimen slides and tubes and beakers that Bo had shattered to release a racing current of passion. Fate, circumstance, the war they were fighting and every single mistake they had both made had turned it into a riptide that kept dragging Lauren into its vicious undertow.
For one evening, Yeva had pulled her out of the maelstrom. For a few hours, Lauren hadn't been struggling for air. She'd been the centre of someone's undivided attention. The warmth of Yeva's voice, the light of her eyes was still lingering on Lauren's skin. If it hadn't been for Bo...
Always Bo. No matter how hard she fought it, no matter what she did, Bo was embedded in every cell, like a protein, essential, inseparable from the nucleus, and irreplacable.
How well Lauren knew the biochemistry of the woman she loved – so well that she had no doubt exactly why Bo had been drawn to Yeva: apart from sheer physical beauty, there was an aura of almost regal calm around her that the succubus would definitely enjoy to slowly undo.
Two thoughts collided in Lauren's feverish brain: that she would either go insane or find a way to make peace with the fact that she could never get Bo out of her system. And that dismantling Yeva's poise would be something she would enjoy just as much as Bo would.
Part of her simply craved the closeness of a warm body, skin on her skin, a touch, a caress. What she needed even more right now, however, was a moment of oblivion. She grabbed the hotel key card and called a cab.
###
Trepidation in one hand and the key to Yeva's room in the other, Lauren stood staring at the non-descreptive door. Then she smirked. Synthecising and preserving the naga venom, de-faeing the Morrigan or stopping a terrorist with a syringe full of Ketamine she could handle, but sliding a simple plastic card into a slot was beyond her?
Resolutely, she unlocked and turned the knob. The sound of running water and a soft voice humming a vaguely familiar tune greeted her. An impulse she was determined to hold on to carried her all the way to the bathroom, where she quickly undressed. She noiselessly opened the door and saw Yeva standing under the open shower. Steaming hot water was running off her dark hair, coating the smooth skin of her back. She had placed her hands against the wall and slowly rotated her head under the spray.
Only now did Lauren let the tiny flames of desire that had fuelled her all the way to this room finally flare up. She swallowed down her fast-beating heart, stepped into the shower and laid her hands on Yeva's hips.
"You changed your mind," Yeva said without turning around. "I didn't think you would."
"Don't make me change it again," Lauren whispered. Hesitated. Until Yeva leaned into her, full body contact sending shivers through both of them, marking a point of no return.
As she trailed her fingers up over Yeva's side, Lauren felt a gentle strength seep into her hands, her wrists, her arms. The sound of Yeva sharply sucking air through her teeth aroused and calmed her at the same time. She felt her mind open up to the signals of pleasure that the other woman's body sent, small as yet, but unmistakable: the soft sigh as she kissed her way from the nape of Yeva's neck up to her ear and lapped up the water that ran off the lobe; the low hum when she brushed the sides of Yeva's breasts.
She remembered the easy confidence she used to have around women, before Nadia, before that fateful trip to the Congo and her years serving the Fae. How sure of her touch, like a musician with her instrument, listening to the notes, pitch perfect. With Bo, like everything that didn't involve talking about emotions, the free flow of physical harmony had been as natural as breathing. Lauren had known instinctively how to make her resonate in every key, every tempo, through all dynamics, and the power surge of mastering her succubus had never failed to make her giddy.
Now, as she could feel Yeva's nerve ends follow her fingertips like two magnets follow each other through a sheet of paper, certainty slowly returned. She sensed Yeva was holding her breath for a bolder touch, she heard the gasp before it turned into a moan as she cupped her breasts and ran her thumbs lightly over the tips. She felt Yeva's muscles tense before she spun around, clasped her thighs around Lauren's leg and pulled her into a kiss so greedy that it rang through every bone in Lauren's body.
Watching Yeva unfold hit Lauren's system like iced vodka, intoxicating, sharp. Gone was Yeva's serenity, the subdued calm, replaced by raw need. Lauren eased away from Yeva's lips, withdrew her leg, just out of reach, stilled her dancing fingers and waited for the green eyes to fly open, pupils dilated, begging her not to stop.
Palms that almost touched, lips that almost kissed, hovering, suspended, just enough to feel what could be. Yeva was still searching Lauren's eyes, unable to move, her breaths shallow, voice hoarse with desire.
"I want you..."
Lauren smiled and leaned in to run her tongue over Yeva's open lips, tearing a gasp from them before she led the way in the slow waltz of a deep and thirsty kiss. As her fingers drew small rivulets on Yeva's trembling body, Lauren became weightless, floating in a clear blue ocean yet intensely aware of her surroundings. She could feel every drop from the shower, every ripple of desire spreading from the tips of Yeva's breasts as she caressed them.
She let one hand follow the cascades down to bathe in the flood of her own making. With gentle pressure from her leg, Lauren sank deep into the swirls, drowning in their depth and the passionate sighs Yeva breathed into her mouth. Wherever their bodies touched, an odd stillness swept over Lauren, soothing and heady, like cool water running down her heat-parched throat and spreading through her chest.
She felt the waves rippling through Yeva, riding higher, rollers slowly turning into breakers before she gently calmed them down again. Ebb and flow were hers to rule, and she kept the incoming tide at bay again and again until Yeva's moans turned into desperate cries for release. Only then did she allow white-capped ecstasy crash over them, carrying them to the safety of the shore.
Cradling each other as they huddled in an embrace on the slippery tiles, Lauren felt a soft chuckle rise in her still heaving chest. Yeva noticed the slight change in her tremors and smiled. "What's so funny?" Then it dawned on her, and her smile turned into a broad affectionate grin. "You're gloating, aren't you? Well, well, well – who knew there was so much sass in you...?"
Lauren knew how inappropriate her thoughts were, aware that she was about to ramble, but she couldn't keep herself in check. "A Succubus, a Leanan Sídhe, a Zoë," she counted. "Maybe I should get a t-shirt: 'Triple Winner In The Fae Five-Finger-Little-Death-Punch Competition' or something..." Yeva laughed, and Lauren joined her, quietly at first, then harder, doubling over, until chuckles turned into sobs and the tears were streaming down her face, joining the water from the shower.
Yeva drew her close. "Let go, Lauren," she whispered. "For once, let yourself fall." She turned off the shower and wrapped first Lauren, then herself in a huge towel she took from the heated rack in the bathroom. Held like a sleepy child, Lauren draped her arms around Yeva's shoulders and buried her face in the curve of her neck, weeping quietly.
Strong enough at last to let herself unravel, calmly trusting that she'd also be strong enough to gather the pieces together again.
###
"Trick, stop fussing with the dirty dishes and help me out here. This Fae-forsaken book makes no sense!" Coming back into the Dal and finding both Yeva and Lauren gone had sent Bo's dark mood into complete blackness. After brooding into her frequently refilled shot glass until closing hour, she had finally found a valve for her inner steam: gathering intel on the mysterious stranger who had whisked Lauren away.
Trick, however, was still irked by his granddaughter. With exasperating slowness, he put one more glass into the dishwasher and turned it on.
"Trick!" Bo ground her teeth. "Look, I'm sorry for being the original grumpy cat. Please, forgive me. And help me figure this out. Pretty please?"
The innkeeper took the leather-bound tome from her and glanced at the page she had book-marked.
"It's all there, Bo," he said. "I've written it down myself."
"Well, I hate to break it to you, Gramps, but you'd never have won the Bumble-bee Button for Neatest Pen in Junior High." Trick frowned. "Sorry – again. Really!"
"You're grumpy because your powers didn't work on Yeva, but there are two fairly simple reasons for that."
"Ah, now we're getting to the good part."
"First of all, you belong to the same Fae branch: Zoës are a lot like Succubi – or Incubi, if they're male."
"What?" Images of Lauren being drained, cast into bold relief by the vividness of the daydream still haunting her, galvanised Bo into action. She was halfway out the door, mentally checking the weapons available in her car and secretly relishing the thought of a proper fight against something tangible when Trick stopped her.
"Bo! Yeva would never harm Lauren! It's not in her nature. And you don't even know where they are." He guided her back to the bar. "Calm down."
Bo took a deep breath. Then another. And a third. "I think I need another shot," she eventually said. "Okay, so if I am to believe you, there's no danger, but this … Zoë … was – or is – whatever – feeding off of Lauren?"
"In a way. There's an essential difference between Succubi and Zoës, and Lauren should count herself lucky that Yeva decided to pay her any attention."
"Oh, really? And how's that?" Despite Trick's reassurance, Bo still cringed at the thought of Lauren being Fae food.
"Well, Zoës are very selective. Male or female, they are invariably beautiful, and they always choose beauty to match." He frowned at Bo's 'well, duh' expression. "But, more importantly, they're healers."
"Healers that feed on humans? Lovely!"
"No, they feed on disconsolation."
"On what?"
Trick sighed. "You know that trees breathe, don't you? That they absorb carbon dioxide and turn it into oxygen?"
"Of course I know that! Are you going environmental on me?"
"No. But like trees, Zoës sustain themselves by absorbing negative life energy and transforming into a positive force. They're healers of souls."
"So they're shrinks?" Bo scoffed. "Walking talking Fae prozac?"
"For the third time: no." Trick kept his impatience under careful control. "They can't restore what has never been there, so they seek out souls that used to be strong before they were clouded by grief or pain or loss. 'Psyche' derives from the word for 'breath', and that's what Zoës do: they clear the air, like trees, and allow the soul to breathe. They don't feed often because it's a complicated process, so the difference between negative and positive has to be quite extensive to make it even worth the effort."
Now Bo stared at him open-mouthed. "So basically, you're saying..."
"I'm saying that you were never on her menu because you are just too much of a roly-poly doll to be of any interest to her." Trick couldn't suppress the barb, but Bo ignored him.
"No, Trick," she finally whispered, and whatever fragile rebound she had achieved vanished instantly. "You're saying that to catch the Zoë's eye, Lauren must have been desparately unhappy."
###
Lauren woke up to an empty bed in Yeva's hotel room. The thought that she should be disappointed made a fleeting appearance but couldn't find anything to attach itself to. Stretching luxuriously, Lauren realised that her inner fever was gone. She felt rested. Composed. Whole.
She was still tired when she arrived at the clinic, but judging by the look on her assistant's face, she couldn't quite hide the fact that she was walking taller, with a slight spring in her step. She silently dared Sam to voice his probably irreverent thoughts, but when her phone rang with Bo's caller ID, for the first time in months, Lauren answered without hesitation – and with a smile on her lips:
"How goes the cheer-leading?"
End
For my Queen, who had an indecent amount of fun watching me act out Lauren's dance scene; for the Warm Towel Society (particularly Fae_Spiration, who's planted Tove Lo's earworm "Talking Body" into my head); and for Laura, Most Wonderful Beta Ever.