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Cookie sighed and rummaged through the bedroom, on the hunt for a piece of clothing. Any piece of clothing. No, not any. She had to be careful now. What she wore affected her moods.
Ugh. The ability she’d first bewailed as a curse, then lauded as a weapon, was currently an inconvenience.
Maybe one day she would make a decision and stick with it—the way she wished people would stick with her.
Atop the dresser she discovered an empty jar. Bemused, she pretended to dump out invisible contents. Something her avatar was forced to do upon occasion. A silly action programmed into the game, whether a reward filled her jar or not.
Focus. What if Kaysar returned to find her naked?
She paused midway to the closet. Yesss. What if he did?
He wanted her. He’d made his desire clear. And she wanted him. Enough to put sex back on the table?
She checked her mental ledger to re-examine his crimes. The man had praised honesty—insisted on it—while purposely misleading her. Worse, he’d punished her for something she hadn’t done, dumping rocks in her bag to exhaust her. He’d also kissed her as if she was oxygen required for his survival and stopped far too soon. Not a terrible offense, but still. Offense!
Had she forgiven him for everything? Maybe? A one-time deal, never to be repeated?
What if he used her as Jareth’s substitute again?
Jareth, who might not be the villain she’d originally considered him to be. The torment he’d sported as he’d confessed his own trials had rung true. Had he suffered abuse, too?
Memories of his mistreatment at her hands sparked guilt and regret. Maybe she should apologize.
And how would Kaysar react to that?
As always, her thoughts swung back to her ruthless companion. The magnet to her metal. In a way, Kaysar reminded her of her bejeweled boots. Beautiful to look at, but extremely uncomfortable and better suited for special occasions. And what was more special than a trip to a magical land?
Before, she’d wondered if she should enjoy him while she had the chance. The question surged once more. Shouldn’t she take this opportunity to explore the rare heat between them? They had a pre-determined expiration date, so she wouldn’t do something foolish and fall for him. She would remain prepared for their inevitable split.
Could she ever return to the mortal world, though? She’d stopped taking her “necessary” drugs and healed supernaturally. She grew vines from her skin. How long before she was captured and studied? And that wasn’t her former paranoia or game-brain talking, either, but cold, hard logic.
But the most important question: What happened when she murdered a mortal who wronged her or her loved ones? What then?
A hefty weight settled atop Cookie’s shoulders. Why let herself get down over this stuff? Hadn’t she yearned for a different life? Well, here it was, hers for the taking. She could make it better or worse, depending on her actions.
What if Pearl Jean and Sugars came here, after all?
Tears burned her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her fists. Homesickness was a real disease, and it sucked. She was only surprised Pearl Jean hadn’t contracted it first.
If Cookie learned to unleash a torrent of vines without elderseed, she could protect her loved ones from anything. Wait. Was she still able to produce vines upon command, without the aid of elderseed?
She peered down at her hands and willed it so. Buds. Come.
Tiny green sprouts broke the surface of her skin, and she grinned. Faster and easier than before. Nice.
If Kaysar helped her protect Pearl Jean and Sugars, even better. He certainly possessed the means. Not to mention the will. But how long would his willingness last? He desired Cookie, yes. For now. What happened when a shiny new toy caught his eye and he bailed?
People always bailed.
Great. Her mood had soured without the aid of clothing. Speaking of, she needed to dress ASAP.
Jutting her chin, Cookie entered the closet. Three gowns hung on the racks, awaiting her perusal. The first was an adorable mix of an evil queen and a cat woman. Black, sexy and super tight. Basically a long-sleeve bodysuit with an attachable train.
The second gave off a Little Bo-Peep vibe, with its pink ruffles and purple bows, while the third gown had been designed with a schoolmarm in mind. Cinched waist, with a slightly flared, ankle-length skirt. The harsh gray color would wash out anyone’s skin, and the stiff collar probably itched like crazy.
It was the most magnificent ensemble she’d ever beheld, and it called to her on a cellular level.
“Mine!” She snatched the gown from its hanger as if someone lurked nearby, ready to pounce on the deal of the century. Fingers crossed Kaysar had left her a pair of panties with core-to-kidney coverage to complete the outfit. The perfect accessory for a persona like this.
