Shit.
He didn’t just want to smooth things over with Zsadist; he wanted to know what the hell had happened down in the training center. Was John all right? Was Qhuinn? Both of those boys were hot tempered, as all newly transitioned males were, but they had good hearts.
Lash must have done something awful.
Phury smoked his way through the blunt in record time. As he rolled another and lit up, he decided Rhage would hook him up with details. Hollywood was always the source-
The wizard shook his head. You do realize, mate, that Wrath wouldn’t appreciate you getting all into the Brotherhood ’s business. You’re just a houseguest here, you sodding bastard. Not family anymore.
Upstairs in the movie theater, Cormia settled back in a seat that was so comfortable it was as the water in the pool had been, all-encompassing, the palm of a gentle giant.
The lights dimmed and John came down to the front.
He typed something into his phone, then flashed her the screen: You ready?
When she nodded, the dim room was lit up by a massive picture and sound came from everywhere.
“Dearest Virgin!”
John reached over and put his hand on top of hers. After a moment, she calmed and focused properly on the screen, which was suffused in shades of blue. Images of humans appeared and disappeared, the males and females dancing together, their bodies pressing close, their hips gyrating to music.
English writing appeared in a pink color at intervals.
“This is the same as the television?” she said. “It works the same way?”
John nodded just as the English words Dirty Dancing appeared in pink.
Abruptly, there was a machine called a car going down a road through green hills. There were people in the car. A family of humans with a father, a mother, and two daughters.
A female voice came from all around the room: “It was the summer of 1963…”
When John pressed something into her hand, she could barely stand to look away from the screen long enough to see what it was. The thing turned out to be a bag, a small, dark brown bag that was open at the top. He made a motion to take something from it and put it in her mouth, so she dipped her hand in. Little multicolored rounds came out and she hesitated.
They were definitely not white. And even on this side she had eaten only white food, as was traditional.
But honestly, what was the harm?
She glanced around, even though she knew there was no one else in with them, and then, feeling as if she were breaking the law, she popped a few into her-
Dearest… Virgin… Scribe!
The taste made her tongue come alive in a way that made her think of blood. What was this food? Cormia looked at the bag. There were a pair of cartoon characters on the front that looked like the candy. M amp;M’s, the package read.
She needed to eat the whole bag. Right now. It didn’t matter that what was inside was not white.
As she had more and moaned, John laughed and handed her a tall drink that said Coke on the red container. Ice rattled inside, and there was a stick punched through the lid. He lifted his own and took a draw on the stick. She did the same and then went back to her bag of magic and the screen.
A bunch of people were now lined up at the edge of a lake, trying to follow the lead of a pretty blond female as she moved to the right, then the left. The young female, Baby, the one who’d been doing the talking, struggled to get her body going where everyone else’s was.
Cormia turned to ask John a question and saw that he was looking at his phone and frowning as if disappointed.
Something had happened earlier in the evening. Something bad. John was far more grim then she’d ever seen him, but he was also incredibly reserved. Though she wanted to help in any way possible, she wasn’t going to press him.
As someone who kept many things to herself, she understood the importance of privacy.
Leaving him be, she settled into her chair and allowed herself to get swept away by the movie. Johnny was handsome, though not as much as the Primale was, and oh, how he moved when the music played. And the best part was seeing Baby get better at the dancing. Watching her fumble and practice and stumble and finally do the moves well made your heart cheer for her.
“I love this,” Cormia said to John. “I feel like I’m living this.”
John’s phone appeared. We’ve got more movies. Tons of them.
“I want to see them.” She took a pull from her cold drink. “I want to see all of them-”
Suddenly, Baby and Johnny were alone in his private space.
Cormia was transfixed as the two of them came together and started to dance in private. Their bodies were so different, Johnny’s so much bigger than Baby’s, so much more muscular, and yet he touched her with reverence and care. And he wasn’t the only one doing the stroking. She returned his caresses, running her hands over his skin, looking as if she loved what she was feeling.
Cormia’s mouth parted and she sat up, getting closer to the screen. In her mind, the Primale took the place of Johnny and she became Baby. Together they were moving against each other, hips rubbing, clothes disappearing. The two of them were alone in the dark, in a safe place where no one could see them or interrupt them.
It was what had happened in the Primale’s bedroom, only there was no stopping and there were no other implications, no weighty traditions, no fear of failing, and her thirty-nine sisters were out of the picture.
So simple. So real, though it was only in her head.
This was what she wanted with the Primale, she thought, staring at the movie. This was it.
Chapter Seventeen
As john sat next to cormia, he checked his phone again for two reasons. The sex scene was making him feel awkward, and he was twitching for word about Qhuinn and Lash.
Damn it.
He texted Blay again, who hit right back and said he hadn’t heard from the guy either and was thinking it was time to get out the car keys.
John let the phone rest on his thigh. Qhuinn couldn’t possibly have done something really stupid. Like hang-himself -in-the-bathroom stupid. Nah. No way.
That father of his, though, was capable of anything. John had never met the male, but he’d heard the stories from Blay-and seen the evidence in that black eye Qhuinn had sported the night after his transition.
John felt his foot tapping and stopped it by putting his palm on his knee. Superstitious son of a bitch that he was, he kept thinking about that old wives’ tale that said bad news always came in threes. If Lash died, there would be two to follow.
He thought of the Brothers out on the streets with lessers. And Qhuinn in the night somewhere, alone. And Bella with her pregnancy.
He checked his phone again and mouthed a curse.
“If you need to go,” Cormia said, “I’m happy to be here on my own.”
He started to shake his head, and she stopped him by lightly touching his forearm. “Take care of whatever it is. It’s obvious you’ve had a difficult evening. I would ask you to talk about it, but I don’t think you would.”
Just because it was on his mind, he typed out: I wish I could go back and not put the shoes on.
“I’m sorry?”
Well, shit, now he had to explain or he looked like an idiot. Something bad happened tonight. Right before it went down, my friend gave me this pair of sneakers I’m wearing. If I hadn’t changed into them, the three of us would have been gone before… He hesitated, thinking that he and his buddies would have been gone before Lash got out of the shower.… what happened went down.
Cormia looked at him for a moment. “Would you like to know what I believe?”
When he nodded, she said, “If it hadn’t been the shoes, you would have dallied wherever you were for another reason. It would have been someone else putting something on. Or a conversation. Or a door that wouldn’t open. As much as we have free choice, absolute destiny is immutable. What is meant to happen does, through one measure or another.”