damn… You’re still as beautiful as I remember.”
“O-kay. Now I know that was something my mind made you say!” Serena laughed, falling onto her back and staring at her ceiling. “This has been a nice crazy-bitch dream.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Zane shrugged it off and smirked over at her, “Either way, I’m enjoying it, too, so don’t wake up just yet.”
She felt her cheeks heat and sighed, “Even like this you can make me blush!”
“You know you love it,” he grinned.
“Psh! How could I not?” She laughed, turning to him as she began to reach out, “I promise to find you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting. For as long as it takes,” he smiled and moved his hand out to meet hers.
She wanted his warmth.
She wanted his touch.
She needed him.
As their palms met, Zane’s hand rippled and phased through her skin, the ripple traveling up his arm. As she watched, his form weakened—the pale light fading—and he drifted off like vapor vanishing into the air, leaving Serena staring at the empty edge of her bed.
Alone…
She shivered and fell back into the only warmth she could turn to and pulled the blankets over her as she nuzzled her face into Zane’s pillow.
His scent would continue to haunt her until she found him.
Whimpering, she finally allowed the tears to fall freely.
“Zane… you son of a bitch! Where are you?”
S erena frowned, stepping through the automatic sliding glass doors—the motor groaning against the added pressure of her aura as she forced them to open faster—and stepped into the building that was to be the new clan’s headquarters. She took a moment to look around the waiting room, the scene and décor offering the cover of a typical human office building, and scoffed.
This was the clan’s headquarters? She hadn’t even talked to the people in charge and she already wanted to line them up for a piece of her mind.
Smack. Smack. Slu-u-u-urp.
Serena suppressed a gag as she turned towards the secretary, the source of the repulsive sounds, and sneered.
Okay, they HAD to be messing with her.
“I swear to fucking Christ,” Serena grumbled, “if I’m being Punkd right now I’m gonna tear Ashton Kutcher’s heart out and eat it!”
“Ma’am— smack slu-u-urp smack smack— do you have an appointment?” The lanky sang girl perched behind a FAR-too-large desk called out to her. Starting towards her, Serena became increasingly aware of the painfully thick layers of eye make-up and neon pink lipstick as she blew an equally neon pink bubble of gum.
All of that artificial personality surrounded in two auras: a puke-orange cloud of overconfident air-headedness and a reeking-yet-invisible layer of syrupy perfume that must have come from the discount rack at K-Mart.
Pop!
“Oh I am so ready for supper, Ashton!” Serena growled and offered a silent prayer to whatever deity would listen that she wouldn’t upchuck then and there.
“Ma’am?”
“Yea… uh, hi,” Serena looked around again, shaking her head. “Kind of an elaborate hoax you guys are putting up here, isn’t it?”
“Can I, like, help you with something?” She rested her bony chin on a palm with spider-like fingers that ended in fake nails painted with even more neon shades.
“How in the hell do you type with those things?” Serena couldn’t hold back a disgusted sneer any longer.
The claws on the secretary’s opposite hand began rattling an impatient rhythm on the desktop. “Do you, y’know, have an appointment or whatever?”
Serena blinked at the question, suddenly curious as to how many brain cells this creature must have lost in what she could only assume had been a lack of blood in her diet. “Uh. Yeah… I’m here to meet with whoever’s running this joint. Pardon the phrase, but will you take me to your leader,” Serena frowned.
“My… leader? Smack pop pop smack ”
Serena suppressed the urge to tear out the girl’s gum along with her tongue. “Yes. Your leader: the
“O-kay. Now I know that was something my mind made you say!” Serena laughed, falling onto her back and staring at her ceiling. “This has been a nice crazy-bitch dream.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Zane shrugged it off and smirked over at her, “Either way, I’m enjoying it, too, so don’t wake up just yet.”
She felt her cheeks heat and sighed, “Even like this you can make me blush!”
“You know you love it,” he grinned.
“Psh! How could I not?” She laughed, turning to him as she began to reach out, “I promise to find you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting. For as long as it takes,” he smiled and moved his hand out to meet hers.
She wanted his warmth.
She wanted his touch.
She needed him.
As their palms met, Zane’s hand rippled and phased through her skin, the ripple traveling up his arm. As she watched, his form weakened—the pale light fading—and he drifted off like vapor vanishing into the air, leaving Serena staring at the empty edge of her bed.
Alone…
She shivered and fell back into the only warmth she could turn to and pulled the blankets over her as she nuzzled her face into Zane’s pillow.
His scent would continue to haunt her until she found him.
Whimpering, she finally allowed the tears to fall freely.
“Zane… you son of a bitch! Where are you?”
S erena frowned, stepping through the automatic sliding glass doors—the motor groaning against the added pressure of her aura as she forced them to open faster—and stepped into the building that was to be the new clan’s headquarters. She took a moment to look around the waiting room, the scene and décor offering the cover of a typical human office building, and scoffed.
This was the clan’s headquarters? She hadn’t even talked to the people in charge and she already wanted to line them up for a piece of her mind.
Smack. Smack. Slu-u-u-urp.
Serena suppressed a gag as she turned towards the secretary, the source of the repulsive sounds, and sneered.
Okay, they HAD to be messing with her.
“I swear to fucking Christ,” Serena grumbled, “if I’m being Punkd right now I’m gonna tear Ashton Kutcher’s heart out and eat it!”
“Ma’am— smack slu-u-urp smack smack— do you have an appointment?” The lanky sang girl perched behind a FAR-too-large desk called out to her. Starting towards her, Serena became increasingly aware of the painfully thick layers of eye make-up and neon pink lipstick as she blew an equally neon pink bubble of gum.
All of that artificial personality surrounded in two auras: a puke-orange cloud of overconfident air-headedness and a reeking-yet-invisible layer of syrupy perfume that must have come from the discount rack at K-Mart.
Pop!
“Oh I am so ready for supper, Ashton!” Serena growled and offered a silent prayer to whatever deity would listen that she wouldn’t upchuck then and there.
“Ma’am?”
“Yea… uh, hi,” Serena looked around again, shaking her head. “Kind of an elaborate hoax you guys are putting up here, isn’t it?”
“Can I, like, help you with something?” She rested her bony chin on a palm with spider-like fingers that ended in fake nails painted with even more neon shades.
“How in the hell do you type with those things?” Serena couldn’t hold back a disgusted sneer any longer.
The claws on the secretary’s opposite hand began rattling an impatient rhythm on the desktop. “Do you, y’know, have an appointment or whatever?”
Serena blinked at the question, suddenly curious as to how many brain cells this creature must have lost in what she could only assume had been a lack of blood in her diet. “Uh. Yeah… I’m here to meet with whoever’s running this joint. Pardon the phrase, but will you take me to your leader,” Serena frowned.
“My… leader? Smack pop pop smack ”
Serena suppressed the urge to tear out the girl’s gum along with her tongue. “Yes. Your leader: the
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