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“Forgive me Arabelle,” he mock bows. “I figured I would see what you’ve done with the place in the past few years. Turns out, it’s still a shithole of lies and deceit. Congratulations.”
“You have the audacity-” Arabelle begins until Cash pulls a handful of glitter from his pocket. Throwing it high in the air, the cards lunge at us with spear points and the Queen’s haunting scream is all I hear before the landscape dissolves. Dirty Dee’s trickles into view, a pair of female foxes behind the bar setting up.
“Expecting company?” I ask, pulling Mr. Budgerigar from my cleavage. Probably the most fun he’s had in years.
“I perform on weekends. Stick around, enjoy the show. We’ll conquer kingdoms once my dear brother’s blood has left your system.” Cash winks at me, his fingers gliding over the pulse at my neck.
I look to the fox bartenders, now understanding their snarl of hatred. From the girl in the human world no one would touch with a ten-foot pole, to being the most desired woman in Wonderlust is a big leap. Luckily, I don’t give a fuck for bitch’s jealously so I flick my hair and follow Cash to his suite, all qualms washing away with each confident step.
Quite the stir indeed.
29
Seventeen years after Alice’s disappearance
Screams, drowned out by the music seeping into my soul, send a shiver down my spine. I’ve only just stepped onto the stage, a permanent fixture in the ballroom now. An elongated catwalk was quickly installed when word got out the useless Tweedle had a knack for dry humping the air.
Females flock from all corners of the realm, unknowingly pledging their allegiance when crossing the borders to the Red Kingdom. Rumors have been circling, the lack of males present at my shows backing up the maid’s overly loud gossiping. Men are becoming a rare commodity, which is all the better for my shows.
Lifting my hands to my nape, I drag off the cashmere sweater that has given me my name, sexy boy style. The soft material strokes my blonde hair, peeling away from the washboard abs and solid chest I now possess. Whenever I’m not dancing or fucking, I’m in the gym, owning the newly acquired state-of-the-art equipment. ‘Only the best’ for her majesty’s jester apparently, and I’ve been sure to milk the shit out of those generous titties.
Hands claw at my feet, desperate for a touch before the butch female ox’s hired for security are able to bat the women back into their chairs. Slowly gliding to the pole at the end of the catwalk, I roll my hips side to side. Pausing to roll my abdomen, flexing each ab so it pops, I make it to the metal rod. My fingers close around its length, stroking slowly as if it were my own shaft.
All the while, females scream and I peer through the strobes lights to pick out who I’ll be taking back to my suite tonight. That’s right – suite! Turns out I don’t need to risk my life to be a Royal Champion, just a cupboard full of condoms and the occasional tetanus shot when a fox or similar gets too comfortable with her teeth. Easy peasy.
Gripping the pole in both hands, I walk my feet through the air, twisting my hips and gliding back down to the stage. Hearts line the edge, a constant reminder of who I’ve sold my soul to. As the rhythm of the music picks up, I fall into the routine I repeat every night. An hour of traveling up the pole, just to slide back down. Enjoying the movements of my own body and blocking out the audience. All the while, edging my slacks down my legs, just to whip them off in the last fifteen minutes. That’s when the crowd goes crazy, screaming and putting the security guards to the test. Roses are thrown, littering the stage amongst the various thongs catapulted my way.
This is the life. Or at least, this is enough to fill the void of my twin ghosting me to train his protégé. I don’t have to beg for his attention anymore or hang around hoping he’s not too tired to play.
Skidding across the stage on my knees, I take my cock in hand, pumping it hard at the lights and then they cut out. Now all I need is someone to finish the job. Across the room, beyond those who scramble over one another to get closer, a torch flashes twice. My chest expands, a very real smile spreading across my face.
Bingo.
Tugging my slacks on in the dark, I slink off the stage and disappear around the back of the armchairs. By the time the lights come back on, I’m ducking out the back door while hollers and cries explode behind me.
“Where is he?! Where’s he gone?!” they all cry. I smirk, linking my hand in the dainty one awaiting me. Tugging her through the castle, avoiding the main passageways, we slip into a stone staircase and make our way to my suite. Only once inside the master suite, the door clicking closed softly, do I release her, bouncing around like a puppy on catnip.
“Did you bring it?!” Lillianna reaches into a deep, concealed pocket of her silk gown and eases out a creature no bigger than her hand. A bat with flopped ears and heavy eyes. His fur is greying, the gentle rise to his wing showing how she was able to catch him so easily.
“The last of his kind, I’m sure,” Lillianna gently places him into my hand. Below his pink button nose, two fangs protrude from its top lip. A vampire bat.
“I’m more certain than ever my husband is responsible for the men disappearing from the realm, Cash. He’s offered them refuge and…” she looks away. Her hair, smooth as ever, slides over her exposed shoulders as fluidly as water. Tilting my head, I cup Norris in one hand to slip my other into her inky black hair.
“And what?” I ask, urging her to tell me. Since our first meeting after my forced strip show for the Royals, I’ve known Lillianna would need someone on her side. Betrothed to a man with a bull’s head, and no one wants to wake up to that, Lillianna is young, merely a few years older than myself. The weight of Spade Kingdom rests on her shoulders since her husband took to being a hermit. She attends ceremonies alone, handles political affairs herself and reports back. Not to mention, the longer she goes without baring the King’s child, the more endangered to his mood swings she becomes.
“And…he’s promising them access to,” Lillianna looks around the empty suite and lowers her voice, “the Alice.” I jerk back, as if smacked with a battering ram to the chest. My heart constricts, the memory of a girl that has an unexplainable hold on me slamming back to the forefront of my mind. No matter how hard I try to suppress her, convincing myself she was a foolish figment of my imagination, I can’t escape. Lillianna’s hand strokes my arm, an apology on her lips.
“Forgive me, I know how she continues to affect you.” I sigh, shaking my head free of unwanted thoughts.
“No, it’s fine. She doesn’t,” I lie, returning my attention to Norris. “I need to find Tweed, to show him this. He will help to free you of your husband, I know he will.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Lillianna turns away, her voice incredibly small. I frown, stepping in behind where the low cut of her dress reveals an intricate swirling tattoo with the spade’s suit in the center. I must ask her who does her ink when the atmosphere isn’t so tense. “Don’t you see? He’s too engrained with the hearts. His loyalty lays with them – there’s no way Tweed would aid me. Besides,” she spins into my chest, “there wouldn’t be enough to go around.”
“What do you mean?” I lightly shake my head, not liking the thought of lying to my twin. Lillianna strokes my hand with the bat nestled inside, seemingly gone to sleep.
“Norris is old, he probably only has enough venom left in each of his fangs for one person. That’s two shots. Me and you, Cash. We can take down the Spade King ourselves and then,” her finger skates along my arm, up my bicep and to my shoulder. I know what she’s doing. I’ve done it a thousand times myself, but for some deep-rooted fucked-up reason, seduction doesn’t work on me.
“There will be an opening for a king. Can you imagine, after everything they’ve done to you, after all the ridicule you’ve experienced, to sit across the High Council and put your own laws in effect. To screw with all of the Red Queen’s plans,” Lillianna smirks.
