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Menolly handed me the boots, and I slipped them on, zipping them up. After that, I twirled for her, feeling totally ludicrous.
She nodded. “Good . . . now you need a collar. Black lace scarf, tied with a bow. If you don’t have one, Camille will.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, is there a dress code?” I asked, digging through my dresser until I came up with a chiffon scarf. It was black, plain but sheer.
Menolly gave it her stamp of approval.
“Yes, there is, unwritten though it may be.” She adjusted the scarf so the bow faced the back of my neck. “There, that’s code for a switch-hitter. If you had the bow in front, no vamp—or anybody in the Fangtabula—would approach you, because it would mean I own you and hands off. To the left—I’ll let you play with girls only. To the right—boys only. If the bow’s facing the back, then anybody can ask permission.”
I blinked. What rock had I been hiding under? “How the hell do you know all this?”
“I get around,” she said, arching her eyebrows and giving me a wicked grin. “Remember, this code only applies in the vamp subculture.” Menolly motioned for me to sit down and picked up my makeup bag. “You’ll find ownership and domination symbology runs differently through each subcult.”
She sorted through the pots of paint. I had enough of Camille’s cast-off supplies to last me for years. “Let’s see what we have—oh! This will do nicely.”
Within moments, I was sporting brilliant red lips and wild chartreuse eye shadow. After outlining my eyes in brilliant liner the color of green velvet, she dusted me with enough powder to pale me down. “You can’t look too robust if I’ve been feeding on you regularly.” She stood back. “I think we’re done.”
I stared at myself in the mirror, blinking. “Uh, yeah, stick-a-fork-in-me done. I look like a drag queen. So, what’s our story?” I asked, following her downstairs.
“We met in a lesbian club. If anybody asks, say it was at Sapphic Blue. I picked you up, took you home, made a meal off of you. You liked it so much you came back for more.”
“So now I’m a lesbian? Works for me, I guess,” I said. “Just don’t expect me to French you one.” As I let out a snort, Menolly whirled around and pushed me back against the wall.
“Fun and games are fine, but remember, this isn’t a joke, Kitten. Don’t screw this up. Chase’s life depends on finding Karvanak. This little fiasco may well lead us to that demonic SOB. So work the story and play it for real if you want to find your boyfriend.”
She looked so fierce that I stumbled and slid down to sit on the steps. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Damned well I’m right. Okay, you want a story? Listen up. We’re a couple. You’re one of my pets—which means you’re a kept woman. I drink from you, and we have sex. When I’m not using you, you hang out in the living room and watch TV and talk on the phone.”
I swallowed. “So I don’t have a job?”
“No job. I take care of you, and I pay wherever we go. So leave your purse and money in the car except for an emergency stash in your boot. I’m an easy mistress. You don’t have to ask permission to eat, go to the bathroom, talk to people, but I make all the decisions. When you address me, do so as Mistress.”
I coughed. “Mistress? Oh boy, this is getting better and better every minute. So what do we do first?”
“Our first goal is to attract Fraale’s attention. Chances are, if she’s new in town, she won’t have had time to get a bead on us, and we’ll be lucky. If Karvanak has filled her in, and she’s working for him, we’re going to have to switch gears. We may have to kill her. Roz assures me she’ll be interested in you and want to try you out.”
“But she’s not a vamp—”
Menolly stopped at the bottom of the landing. “No, but vampire clubs are good hunting grounds for her play. And apparently succubus blood is tasty. I’ve never had it, so I don’t know. My bet is that she offers a vein in exchange for an hour or so with the pet of her choice. She’ll play for a while, give the vamps a drink, and then be off. We need to find out why she’s hanging around Karvanak and where he’s hiding. If we’re lucky, she’ll mention him. If not, then we make contact, play for a bit, and trail her home.”
“Delightful. I might get a spanking out of this, you mean.” It wasn’t a question. I’d given up trying to fight the current.
“You might at that.”
I shrugged. “Okay. Let’s do it. I guess if Camille could face a dragon’s bed for us, I can face seduction at the hands of a succubus. Just why do we always end up using sex to pay for help? Can’t we just cook them dinner and take in a movie?”
It was Menolly’s turn to let out a snort. She smiled at me, then sobered. “Let me tell you something, before we rejoin the others. Rozurial and Fraale were married before he was transformed into an incubus and she, a succubus. They loved each other dearly. She was the only family he had after Dredge killed his parents and siblings.”
“They were normal Fae?”
“Right,” Menolly said. “This happened when he was around ninety—still quite young. A traveling wizard stopped at their house and tried to seduce Fraale. As Roz stepped in to chase him off, the wizard’s wife showed up and transformed Fraale into a succubus. That’s when they realized they weren’t facing a wizard and his deranged wife at all. It was really Zeus, who was trying to play the field again.”
“Let me guess. Hera was the wizard’s wife?”
“Bingo. And she was out for blood. Hera was pissed at Zeus, but she took it out on Fraale. Roz begged Zeus to change Fraale back, but Zeus couldn’t, so he turned Roz into an incubus, somehow thinking that might help matters. Of course, it just made them worse.”
“The gods can be real shits sometimes, can’t they?” I let out a low growl. “They don’t always play fair.”
