Raquel's Trade:

Part Fourteen: Living Together

by Doctor Mercurious

PROLOGUE

Somewhere in England

Three Days Ago

            Rakshasa strode down the dimly lit corridor towards the director’s office of Division 13. Other agents, the ones bold enough to be this close to The Fox’s office, hurriedly got out of his way. His sleekly muscled body – a good head and a half taller than anyone else – conjured to mind the tiger-animals his ancestors evolved from; ruthless, violent, and inclined to let his claws do the talking. Rakshasa was quite skilled when bringing them to debate. He was also wearing them -- three jagged metallic blades attached to hard leather gloves, weapons designed for brutal close combat. On top of this he wore a silver mask, the face of which was carved to resemble a snarling tiger-animal. It had become his trademark in the Gifted community.

            Rakshasa pushed the heavy oak door of The Fox’s office open. Inside looked more like an archaeologist’s office or the head curator of a museum; piles of books sat all around the room except where some sort of artifact perched. Behind the dark oaken desk a slim, unassuming male fox pored over reports. The lights were unaccountably dimmer where he sat, and if one stared at the shadows around him too long it things could be seen moving within their confines.

            The Fox looked up from his reports. “Rakshasa,” he said with a nod. He wasn’t wearing his shades. Lesser and not-so-lesser males had turned away from the pools of shadow sitting where normal eyes should be. “Glad you could come on short notice.”

            “It sounded urgent,” Rakshasa answered in his customary flat tone, standing at parade-rest. He didn’t call The Fox ‘sir’ since he was technically only a for-hire operative. By MI doctrine, only a natural-born citizen of Great Britain could be a member of MI, let alone Division 13.

            The Fox took a picture out of the folder he was perusing and put it on his desk, face up. “Take a look at this.”

            Rakshasa examined it. A muscular, four-breasted, two-headed tigress in business attire dominated the shot. She was crossing a street; other furs in background of the shot were looking at her and gaping. “When did this happen? And how?” It was an effort keeping his voice calm.

            “Within the past month,” The Fox answered. “The agents on scene are unsure of the details. If the Societies are letting her roam around free, this is bigger than big. I want you to find out what.”

            Rakshasa pocketed the picture. “Consider it done.” It looked like it was time to do some heavy debating with the Societies in the manner he preferred: sharp, quick, and final.

#

            Once upon a time -- a lifetime or two weeks ago, depending on one’s point of view -- Kayleigh lived alone although not by choice. She'd grown up in a large family and even had an identical twin sister; she associated a crowded house with comfort. After coming out of the closet, her family disowned her and it looked like she'd never achieve that level of closeness again.

            In retrospect, she should have known not to give Fate an opening like that.

            Kayleigh glanced to her left. Even in the dim light she could make out Vicki’s sleeping face, her head cuddled up close to Kayleigh's own. The hand on the mink’s side draped across their shared body; Kayleigh could feel with that hand even if she couldn't control it. Yesterday, she’d been asked what she'd be willing to pay for the miracle of Vicki’s resurrection, and even been warned of the potential cost.

Kayleigh had answered the only way she could. A small piece of her mind wondered if it was worth the price. She hated what it was saying and yet...she couldn't help but wonder if it had a point.

            Vicki suddenly yawned and tried to stretch; Kayleigh felt the tension build and went along with it. Since they were in effect two heads sharing a body, they needed to do everything in synch "Good morning," the mink purred, bringing her hand up to caress Kayleigh's face. “Or whenever.”

            "Good whenever yourself," she returned with a warm smile. Their shared pussy tingled. "Do you always wake up horny?"

            "I'm a mustelid," she smiled. "During certain times of the year, breathing gets me horny."

            "Well, you're only half-mustelid now," she smiled back. Not that it seemed to quiet their loins any. In fact, the tingling had grown to an insistent tickle.

            Vicki giggled and licked Kayleigh's muzzle. “I’m half horny then. So when’s Raquel coming back?” She placed her hand on their shared belly and rubbed. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait...”

            “Um.” Kayleigh was still getting used of having a regular lover. The idea of a ménage, especially such a surreal one, made her brain short circuit. “I think she’ll be home soon.”

            “Good.” Vicki turned her head and nuzzled Kayleigh’s cheek. “In case I didn’t say it before, thank you.”

            “You’d do the same for me,” Kayleigh replied thickly, turning her head as well. Their heads weren’t right next to each other; each could turn inward enough to glance at the other but not directly. However, with both their heads turned inwards, their muzzles touched.

            Kayleigh wasn’t sure who instigated the kiss, and quickly didn’t care. It had been so long since she kissed Vicki it soon became the only thing she wanted to do. Even better, she could feel her own mouth from Vicki’s end of the contact. Kayleigh had expected they would share sensations, but assumed it would stop below the neckline. Apparently, this wasn’t the case. The part of Kayleigh’s brain that never stopped thinking made a mental note to spank Zalika the next time she saw her while the rest concentrated on relishing the heat of their shared kiss, the feel of their shared pussy, and the smell of their own arousal.

There was no Raquel, no future or past, only now and a need two years in the waiting.

Kayleigh reached over to the breast on Vicki’s side and pinched the nipple hard. Their back arched; Vicki’s hand traced the dividing line between her and Kayleigh’s pelt down to between their legs, which automatically spread open. Immediately she plunged her curled fingers past the moist lips, thrusting deep inside. Kayleigh gasped around the kiss. Normally she didn’t like fisting but it felt so good; she yanked on Vicki’s nipple and an electrical jolt seemed to travel straight to their shared loins. Their pussy quivered and sucked around Vicki’s pumping hand, and she thrust harder. Suddenly and without warning they were at the threshold; Vicki whimpered around Kayleigh’s muzzle and she herself howled as their orgasm broke…

Kayleigh blinked at the ceiling. She didn’t remember turning away from Vicki. “I think I grayed out there for a bit,” she murmured.

Vicki cupped the husky’s cheek and turned her head for a kiss. “So did I,” she said. “Now we’re both awake, how about a shower? I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling as grungy as a freshly unearthed corpse.”

For a brief second, Kayleigh gaped. She wanted to shout how could you even joke about that? Then, looking at her lover and body-mate’s face, she saw the shadow of grief on it and realized this was a coping mechanism. “The one problem about this set-up is I can’t bite you for bad puns,” she complained.

“Go ahead anyways,” Vicki giggled. “I might like it.”

“Fresh.” Kayleigh gave her a quick peck. “Fine. Shower it is, then we get dressed…er, find something that’ll fit.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vicki replied. “Let’s write Raquel a note.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

Vicki smiled. “It’s not that sort of note.”

#

Raquel’s apartment building had started life as a spacious three-decker meant for three generations of a single family. Time and fiscal realities had seen it bought, converted to six apartments under one roof, and the large field next door tarred over for the parking lot. Since each family or spate of roommates living here had at least two cars per household, off-street parking was at a premium. Raquel and Cyndi both paid an additional twenty-five dollars a month to reserve their spaces in the lot. Raquel’s car sat in its assigned spot; Cyndi’s was empty.

Then, suddenly, it wasn’t.

Cyndi turned and smiled at her friend. “Boston to Providence in under ten minutes, including a dimensional changeover! How’s that for useful magic?”

Raquel’s right head stared out the passenger side window while the other looked at a spot just to the right of the porcupine. “Peachy,” she said in a distracted tone.

I knew we should have taken the long way home, Cyndi fumed. Raquel, understandably, had a lot on her mind – not the least of which was if she and Kayleigh still had a future together -- and needed time to sort it out. She put a hand on Raquel’s arm. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

Raquel jerked as if in surprise; her left gaze fixed on Cyndi and softened. “Always,” she said, giving the porcupine’s hand a squeeze.

“Wanna go somewhere and grab a cup of coffee? Talk for a bit?”

“I need to talk,” Raquel murmured. “I mean, I need to talk to Kayleigh…and Vicki too, I guess. I need to tell her, so she knows where she stands on…the issue.”

Cyndi wanted so bad to be there when she did, but there were things between lovers that were not the business of friends to know. Her heart told her the husky and tigress needed to solve this ‘issue’ on their own. She didn’t like admitting her heart was right in this case, but it was. “Why don’t I go get pizza?” Cyndi suggested. “I may be gone for a long time, like an hour or two; I’ll call before I come back, so don’t wait up for me. Okay?”

Raquel gathered her friend in for a warm hug. “Thanks roomie,” she purred. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You have nothing to make up to me,” Cyndi told her thickly, returning the hug with interest. “Not after everything my past life did to you.”

Raquel started, drew back. “Cyndi…” she growled.

Cyndi tweaked both the tigress’ noses. “Hush. I don’t want you going in there mad. They may have started without you, if you know what I mean. Two years is a long time to wait.”

Raquel flinched. “I…that’s true, I suppose.” She sounded hurt.

“You think?” Cyndi dropped her voice to a deliberate dangerous growl. “Well, since you’re thinking, add this to the list: what would you do if your lover was killed and came back to you? Especially if, like Kayleigh, you blamed yourself for her death?”

Raquel didn’t say anything for a long time; conflicting emotions played across her faces. She even winced a few times, as if considering the idea hurt. Finally, she turned to look at Cyndi with both pairs of eyes. “I can’t see myself doing anything different,” she admitted. Her smiles looked a touch easier.

Cyndi smiled in return. “Just keep that in mind,” she cautioned. “Now scoot – your lovers are getting cold.”

“We haven’t talked about that part yet,” Raquel cautioned as she climbed out of the car.

The porcupine did something satanic with her eyebrows. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll cum to it.”

Raquel double-winced, blushing rosily. “I oughta tickle you for that,” she threatened.

Cyndi giggled. “Gotcha again.” A wonderful idea occurred to her. “Hey, could I borrow that crystal Zalika gave you?”

“You are not going to meet with the Lord of White by yourself!” Raquel growled.

“The thought never occurred to me,” Cyndi protested weakly.

Raquel snorted. “Right, suuure. Why do you want it then?”

“I want to study it.” Cyndi was proud of herself for thinking that excuse up so quickly. “How else am I supposed to know what his aura looks like?”

Raquel gave the porcupine a suspicious look. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Cyndi raised her right hand. “I promise. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never an Acorn Scout,” Raquel reminded her. Still, she fished out the crystal from her purse and tossed it to Cyndi. “Here. And I want it back.”

She caught it eagerly. “Thanks. So, you want chicken or beef on your pizza?”

            “Zebra,” Raquel insisted. “After everything I’ve gone through in the past two days, I’m splurging.”

            “Okay. One large zebra pizza, and one half bacon and half rabbit pizza. I’ll give you a call when they’re ready -- say two hours?”

            “I’ll call you,” Raquel corrected. “Leave your cell phone on.”

            “Right-o.” It was an effort of will not to run after the tigress as she closed the car door; Cyndi still wanted to be with her so bad she could taste it. To help quell her desire, she studied the crystal. It didn’t look like much, just a plain clear spheroid about the size of a marble. The longer she looked at it however, the more she saw something – a dancing bluish-white sparkle which couldn’t be accounted for by light shining through it. Cyndi frowned. I know I promised I wouldn’t meet with Phaeron myself, but there should be nothing wrong with Synne. Now, how do I make this thing work? It couldn’t be that complicated. “Testing, testing, one two three? Synne, are you there?”

            The crystal lit up. * Please don’t yell; it gives me a headache. *

            Cyndi yelped as a warm fem voice echoed in her mind. It sounded like the mare she’d seen briefly at Vicki’s raising. “Sorry,” she whispered. “How’s this?”

            * You’re still yelling. Just think at the crystal. *

            Cyndi concentrated. * This better? *

            * Much. I thought Zalika might leave it with you. How can I help? *

            * Would you like to go somewhere for coffee? * Cyndi really wanted to go to Synne, but that might not be a wise move. * My treat! *

            * I would love to, but coffee makes a Nighthorse jittery. Would you mind tea? *

            The picture of a bucking mare briefly flitted through Cyndi’s brain; she immediately squashed it. * I know just the place. Where can I meet you? *

            * The graveyard – nobody’s watching it right now. I’d advise going back there after today, though. The Lord of Black will be all over it like honey on a baked apple once he gets back from Egypt. *

            * Thanks for the tip, * Cyndi replied. *We’re not going to have to fight him, are we? *

            * Eddie is more of a ‘wheeler-dealer’ than a warrior. He sticks to his word, but you’ll be lucky if there’s a stitch of clothing to your name after he’s done. *

            Maybe I could sic Raquel on him, Cyndi thought to herself. The tigress seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to dealing with snake-oil salesfurs. * I’ll make sure I leave my wallet at home if I meet up with him. See you in ten! *

            * I’m looking forward to it. *

            The crystal went dark; Cyndi sighed happily. I’m glad that went over smoothly, she thought as she started her car back up. Something told her this was going to be an interesting conversation…

#

Raquel stared at the front door to her apartment building. She didn’t have her keys. The keys were sitting in her purse. The purse was sitting in Mr. Gregan’s limo. Where the limo was sitting…she had absolutely no clue. I should just ring the blasted doorbell, she thought. There it is, sitting there, waiting to be rung. Go on now -- stick out your finger and press it!

They may not want to be interrupted, her random thought warned.

This is my apartment, Raquel told herself. I have the right to go in my own apartment if I want.

And what about carnal rights?

That random thought was really starting to get pointed. It’s Kayleigh’s body, Raquel insisted. What was she supposed to do, let Vicki stay dead?

Works for everyone else.

You SHUT THE FUCK--!

A knife of pain lanced though Raquel’s skulls. She fell to her knees, crying out as she grabbed at the door handle. Her thoughts raced in a million different directions, each memory a razor-sharp barb; the pain became a white-hot bolt coursing through her body. Suddenly, the memory of Kayleigh, the feel and smell of her when they first made love, threw itself up in her mind. Raquel grabbed and held on. Slowly, the pain waned as all the other memories and thoughts formed around that intense and precious image.

The world snapped back into focus.

Raquel opened both pairs of eyes.

Her grasping hand had crushed the door handle; slowly, she pried it loose. The abused handle fell to the ground, having been torn off the door. Her hand didn’t even ache.

No, she thought. Her fists balled as she stood. I am Raquel Fayral! This is my life! She breathed in rhythm, as if working out. It calmed her down. This is my life, she repeated. To do with as I will. Raquel straightened, pushed the terminally unlocked door open, and strode inside as if daring someone to stop her.

There was a note taped onto the door leading to her apartment:

Taking a shower

Hurry up before it gets cold XX

Kayleigh & Vicki

Raquel looked at the note for a long time. The image of the crushed door handle would not leave her. She brought the note to her left muzzle and inhaled, smelling Kayleigh’s strong scent on it…and someone else’s. No stretch to figure out whose. You just saved me, beloved, Raquel considered to herself as she thought of Kayleigh. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to do it again. She reached out for the door handle…

Locked.

Her laughter was long, loud, and cleansing. Perhaps there was no reason for it, but some times things build up and it’s either laugh or scream.

#

              “I am really, really, really sorry!”

              “It’s okay,” Kayleigh assured her through pain-gritted teeth. They sat on the recliner in full extension, cold compress wrapped around Kayleigh’s ankle. It ached like a sonovabitch. “I guess we both need a little practice walking.

              Vicki nodded and winced; she felt the sprain as much as the husky did. “Looks like it’s bath-time for us until we get our feet talking to each other.

              “I haven’t hurt this much since Raquel talking me into exercising with her.”

              Vicki looked interested. “Oooo, sounds juicy. When was this?”

              “After--” There was a knock on the door. Kayleigh frowned; who the heck was this? Her right hand tensed. “Hold on a moment,” she called out. “I’ll be right there.”

            “Getting up is going to be interesting,” Vicki muttered. “I wonder who it is?”

            The two braced themselves on the arms of the recliner. “Someone who doesn’t have the key for the inside door, but does for the outside one,” Kayleigh replied. “Ready on three?”

            “Three,” Vicki responded. They pried themselves off the chair carefully and not without some pain. “That leaves Raquel and Cyndi out, doesn’t it?”

            “Raquel keeps both sets of house keys together,” Kayleigh corrected. “Cyndi doesn’t. Don’t ask me why.” She glanced down sourly at her twisted ankle and then back at Vicki. “Ready?”

            “No, but let’s do it anyway,” Vicki groaned.

            Kayleigh stuck her arm out for balance and the hopped across the parlor on her leg. Kayleigh found that as long as she didn’t think about it too much, they weren’t that unsteady; of course it helped that the front door wasn’t that far away. “Who is it?” Kayleigh called out.

            “Free tail,” came Raquel’s muffled answer. “Get it while it’s hot.”

            “Hurry up and let her in,” Vicki said loudly.

            “I’m surrounded by comediennes,” Kayleigh muttered. She peeked through he keyhole; sure enough, one of Raquel’s heads filled the view. She quickly unlocked the door before she lost her nerve. “What happened to your keys?”

            “I think they’re --” Raquel began; she stopped cold as the door swung open to reveal her/Vicki’s body.

            Kayleigh cringed as the seconds ticked away into minutes; Vicki own face was carefully blank. Was this it? Was Raquel going to decide her and Vicki’s joining was too much to deal with? Raquel continued to stare. Say something! Kayleigh wailed silently.

            “They’re where?” Vicki asked suddenly.

            Raquel shook herself. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I got distracted there for a moment. It’s been a long weekend.” The tigress grabbed her/Vicki and hugged them tightly. “It is so good to see you,” Raquel murmured in her ear, purring.

            “And you,” Kayleigh managed thickly, returning the hug.

            “That goes for you too, Vicki,” Raquel added, kissing the mink on the nose with her right head. “It’s great to have you back.”

            “Good to be back,” Vicki enthused. “But if you really want to welcome me…” Her hand moved to the tigress’ butt and squeezed.

            Kayleigh felt Raquel stiffen. Dammit Vicki, she cursed silently. It’s too soon! “She’s probably tired, Vicki,” the husky chided.

            “I’m fine,” Raquel insisted. “Well sort of.” She sighed. “You two need to sit down. I’ve…found out something about myself that makes Cyndi’s problem look like nothing.”

            Kayleigh ignored the gaping pit in her stomach. “Would you mind helping us to a chair?” She asked, lifted her injured foot. “We sort of twisted my ankle.” Raquel’s muzzles twitched; Kayleigh thought the tigress was gong to speak but laughter came out instead. “It’s not funny; we were in the shower and…” the tigress laughed harder. Vicki joined in. “Damn it,” Kayleigh protested weakly. “I said it’s not funny!” This only seemed to urge the two laughing fems to greater heights of hilarity.

            “Yes it is,” Vicki managed between paroxysms of mirth.

            “I’m surrounded by comediennes,” Kayleigh grumbled. One bad thing about being conjoined, she thought. When your conjoin-mate is laughing, it’s hard to keep a straight face. Kayleigh managed – until Raquel decided the best way to help was to pick them up in her arms and carry them over to the couch. Then she lost it.

#

            Cyndi could be accused of a number of character flaws: impulsiveness, being over-emotional and playing ‘freak the mundanes’ too much. Stupidity, however, was not on the list. Her instincts told her Synne could be trusted, but Cyndi knew those instincts were not her own. Besides, the fem could be followed and not even realize it. So before arriving at the graveyard, Cyndi sung her own variation of and old Hall & Oates tune ‘Private Eyes’; she felt the spell drape her like a cloak and smiled. There, she thought. I should be invisible to any spells that spy from a distance – and I’ll be notified of any unfriendly eyes. Despite her preparations, Cyndi still could not stifle a surge of trepidation as she drove past the front gate. Raising Vicki from the dead was a choice she would have made no matter what, but her days of standing quietly by the sidelines were well and truly over – if she’d ever had that option to begin with. Cyndi was now smack in the middle of the conflict between White and Black; she just hoped Synne was of a mind to be helpful.

            Cyndi parked the car next to Vicki’s former grave and got out. No one was visible and, so far, her spell hadn’t given her any warning prickles. She knelt down at the gravestone, folded her hands, and hummed another song. This one was completely original. “Passenger side door’s unlocked,” she mumbled to the invisible figure behind the stone.

            “Thank you,” came the quiet reply. The voice was not female.

            Cyndi froze, her eyes fixed on her folded hands, thoughts scattering like mice. She was very, very tempted to start running as fast as she could in the opposite direction; only the greater fear that events would take a turn for the worse stopped her. Cyndi waited until the presence moved into her car; then she rose, blessed herself, and climbed into the driver’s side. “I talked to Synne,” she accused.

            A figure appeared to her right. It wore a dark-colored, concealing robe complete with hood. “That was me,” replied a strong, male voice.

            “You could have said,” Cyndi replied tightly.

            The figure pushed back its hood. Blue eyes regarded her levelly. “You wouldn’t have come.”

            “Can you blame me?” She snapped.

            “Probably not,” shrugged the unicorn with the black pelt. “If you like, I can leave now and we can pretend this never happened. Would you like to reschedule?”

            Cyndi glared at him. This had to be none other than Phaeron, Lord of the White. She was forced to admit he was one good-looking male. And if you think that’s gonna cut any ice with me, you got another thing coming. “I wouldn’t have taken that long to arrange a meeting.”

            “I repeat my earlier question.”

            “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

            Phaeron shrugged. “Goes with the job description; that, and sticking my nose where it’s not wanted. If it’s any consolation, Synne’s going to have my hide for a skirt when she finds out.”

            “That’s not funny!”

            “It wasn’t intended to be.”

            “You hurt Vicki.” Even Cyndi was surprised at how ugly her voice sounded. Surprised, but not sorry.

            “No,” Phaeron corrected. “I allowed her to be hurt. Which, in my opinion, is worse.”

            “Why didn’t you raise her from the dead, if you were so damn sorry?” Cyndi demanded.

            “Death-curses are beyond even the most powerful Gifted’s ability to counter. It takes the most powerful of Bards to break one.”

            It was getting hard for Cyndi to stay furious. Phaeron’s voice never climbed beyond polite, and there was an odd flavor – regret? – to it. “That’s not my fault,” she snapped.

            “I never thought it was,” he agreed. “Only the foolish or the insane wish for great power.”

            “I’m not the one you should be talking to, you know.”

            “Raquel can wait her turn. It ended last time with just the two of us. If it’s going to begin again, it should start the same way.”

            “That – “ Cyndi tried to say ‘that wasn’t me’, but the words stuck in her throat. Saying it felt like a denial of guilt. Everyone kept telling her she bore no responsibility for those ancient wrongs, but Cyndi knew better. “Is it going to start again?” The question was half accusatory, half plaintive. “The fighting, the dying, good people on both sides getting thrown in a meat grinder?”

            “I think that depends on your answer to one question.”

            “What question?” Cyndi demanded.

            Phaeron held out his hand. “Hello, my name is Phaeron Pothecarius. I have a long list of titles if you’d like to hear them, but I’d advise against it. They’re terribly overblown. How are you?”

            It was taking too much energy to stay angry; Cyndi downgraded herself to ‘annoyed’ “I’m doing fine, thanks.” She shook his hand. “Well, you know what I mean.”

            “I do.” He relaxed noticeably. “How is Vicki handling her resurrection?”

            “Last time I saw her she was out like a light,” Cyndi admitted. “She seemed to be handling it okay. Zalika had to get a little creative.”

            ‘I’ll bet,” Phaeron replied dryly.

            “So, where’s your wife?”

            “Synne had a couple of emergency calls -- a dream-demon possession and a spell-induced nervous breakdown – and a client who insists on total secrecy. Probably a member of a royal house.”

            “Emergency calls?”

            Phaeron beamed with pride. “My wife is a mind-healer and dream-physician. She’s very much in demand, even considering she’s married to me. At any rate, she left specific instructions not to touch the crystal.”

            Cyndi couldn’t help but smile. “Which you ignored. Boy oh boy, you’re in deep kimchee, aren’t you?”

            He smiled. “I’m sure Synne had some elaborate plan convincing us to meet involving a lot of theatrics. I decided to skip to the main event.”

            “Trusting your heart? What would the other Whites say?” For some reason, although Cyndi hadn’t meant it that way, it felt like an accusation rather than a mild poke in the ribs.

            Phaeron stiffened slightly. “Hearts make for poor thinking,” he told her. His eyes got a faraway look. “They get confused far too often – and easily. Do yourself a favor and think with your brain.”

            He doesn’t believe that, Cyndi realized. He says that because something went very wrong and he blames himself. She sensed this was a raw subject for him and prodding too hard would cause him to lash out. I think I’d better leave it for now until I get to know him better. “So, still wanna have some coffee and talk? Or does coffee make unicorns jittery too?”

            “Unicorns are immune to natural poisons, toxins and venoms – which includes stimulants like caffeine.”

            Cyndi gasps. “That’s horrible!”

            He smiled. “It’s not too bad. There are some very tasty magical analogues I get to snack on that can’t be imbued by normal digestions.”

            She smiled. “Sounds tempting. Can I try some?”

            “What part of the phrase ‘normal digestions’ do you not understand?”

            “Hey, considering how much trouble I’m gonna get in with Raquel, I might as well make it really worth the screaming.” Cyndi took a deep breath. “I’ll trust you.”

            Phaeron gave her a long look. “I’ll just have to prove myself worthy of your trust, won’t I?”

            Perhaps it wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.

Three Hours Later

            “…and then we came home,” Raquel finished.

            The three fems sat in silence, looking at each other. Vicki/Kayleigh lay on the couch. Raquel sat at the other end with their feet in her lap. A formerly cold compress was wrapped around Kayleigh’s ankle.

            Vicki was the first to speak. “So, you’re a goddess or something?”

            “ Or something,” Raquel replied softly. “No one really knows for sure, except it’s potentially very dangerous. To everyone around me.”

            More silence, followed by more looking. Vicki spoke first again. “What about your opposite number?”

            “What??” Both of Raquel’s heads stared at Vicki. Kayleigh gaped at her conjoinmante.

            “It only makes sense,” the mink shrugged. “For every Ying, a Yang. If you’re an ‘avatar of destruction’, who’s the creation-avatar?”

            “The question never came up.” Each of Raquel’s faces wore a distracted expression.

            “Maybe it’s not an issue,” Kayleigh added.

            “Yet,” Raquel remarked. “Fine. Swell. Peachy. Another thing for me to worry about.”

            “You mean us,” Vicki insisted. She was not going to see Raquel and Kayleigh split up without a fight.

            “Ditto,” Kayleigh agreed.

            “This doesn’t have to be your fight too,” Raquel told them gently.

            “Oh yes it does,” Kayleigh fumed.

            “You mean a lot to Kayleigh,” Vicki added. “She didn’t sit around on her butt when the time came to help me, and I wouldn’t have either.” She decided not to mention that being a physical part of another person, especially someone she cared about, was proving to be one heck of a turn-on.

            “Maybe you two should think about this,” Raquel urged.

            “Already thought about it,” Vicki told her. “I am not standing aside.”

            “The same goes for me,” Kayleigh insisted.

            Raquel opened her right mouth. Just as she was about to say something, her stomach let out a loud growl. Vicki jerked back, startled, and jostled Kayleigh’s ankle. A bolt of pain shot through both of them. and they both yelped; Raquel looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

            “That’s okay,” Vicki giggled. “I –we – could use some could use some food ourselves.” She patted her and Kayleigh’s shared stomach, thrilling at the sensation.

            Raquel picked up the cordless from next to the couch and dialed her favorite pizza place. “I’ll order pizza and have Cyndi pick it up.” She brightened. “Hey, maybe she can heal your ankle.”

            Vicki pouted. “Does that mean you won’t rub out feet?”

            Raquel’s left head gave them a speculative look while her right talked away on the cordless. “Maybe we can talk about that later. But not tonight, okay? After dinner I am crashing hardcore.”

            “Fine by me,” Vicki said, turning up the cheer. Kayleigh looked a little disappointed, and Vicki would be a liar if she said she didn’t share it. Vicki, however, had more experience with relationships. Raquel wasn’t exactly saying no; nor was she pulling away from them in disgust. A little bit of space – but not too much – would go a long way.

#

            “Hey, roomie. I ordered the pizzas from Angelo’s.”

            “ ’Kay, blondie, I’ll pick ‘em up!”

            “ ‘Blondie?’ Cyndi are you okay?”

            “Never better. I’m even mellow!”

            “Have you been drinking?”

            “Nope. I’ve been sitting in my car sucking an eyedropper. Hey, have I ever told you what a good, friendly, mellow roommate you are?”

            “Hokay, what do you want?”

            “Mind a guest?”

            “You met with Synne, didn’t you?”

            “What makes you say that?”

            “Because I know you.”

            “Well, it’s not Synne.”

            “Then why are you asking me? Oh heck…um, I’ll put Vicki and Kayleigh in my room.”

            “Naughty-naughty!”

            “It’s not like that – oh, forget it. Look, I’ll keep them out of sight. Don’t forget the pizzas, and drive carefully.”

            “I will.” Cyndi hung up the phone. She turned to her right. “See? Raquel said it was okay.”

            Phaeron folded his arms. “I noticed you didn’t say who I was.”

            Cyndi waved her hand airily. “Details, details.” She’d never considered herself a good actress but Phaeron seemed to be buying her drunk act. It looked like her preparatory spells – including the one she’d snuck by him to make her appear drunk to mystic senses – were working just fine. “She’ll warm to you. B’sides, I want her to hear how Zalika whipped your butt.”

            “No whips were involved – it was the first date.” He put a hand to her forehead. “I think I’d better take a rain check. If you show up with me in tow, Raquel will go ballistic and I’d rather not find out what she can do the hard way. There are too many breakables about – windows, streets, buildings, that sort of thing. In the meantime…”

            Cyndi quickly analyzed the surge of magic shooting through her head and responded as expected. “Ow,” she whimpered, cupping the sides of her temples “My head hurts.”

            Phaeron’s grin was devilish. “A personal creation of my own; cures drunkenness but not the resultant hangover.

            “Hey, it wasn’t like I set out to get drunk,” she protested.

            “You’re right – and you didn’t,” he replied.

            Cyndi cringed. She thought about denying the gentle accusation but decided against it. “What gave me away?”

            He winked. “Nothing. Up until this moment I wasn’t sure, but pretending to get drunk is something I would do.”

            She gaped at him. “You are one sneaky unicorn.”

            Phaeron bowed. “Why thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” He grew serious. “A meeting between Raquel and myself is going to happen when she’s good and ready; trickery won’t speed up the process.”

            “You let me worry about her.”

            “Because you think what’s happened to her is your fault?”

            Cyndi sat and stared at him, mouth gaping. She closed it. “What makes you so sure I think that?” It was an effort keeping her voice neutral.

            “You took a serious risk deciding to meet even Synne all by yourself,” Phaeron shrugged. “Let alone partaking of spirits with me.”

            “Sometimes risks have to be taken,” Cyndi pointed out.

            “Perhaps,” Phaeron said. He didn’t sound like he agreed. “Let’s do this again soon, shall we? I rather enjoyed myself.”

            Cyndi felt the spell envelop him. “Wait --!” A second later, only empty air was in the passenger’s seat. “Nuts,” she cursed aloud. “First Forethought and now Phaeron.” What was a fem supposed to do with skittish males who just wouldn’t talk a problem through, use super-glue? She sighed. I am so going to be in for it when I get home…

Avalon

            There was, Greg noted, something almost disingenuous about Unicorn healers. The Hippocratic Center in Athens had the reputation of being the best healers’ hall in all of Avalon, but personally he would have preferred Elves. Greg found Elves very empathic caretakers of the sick. Unicorns gave the impression they were doing you a favor.

            He did have to admit – his recovering room at the Guild was elegant, in its own way. The bed was light and fluffy as a cloud with matching poofy pillows, the large airy windows let in copious amounts of sunshine, and his only roommates were large potted plants. Greg just wished the architects had used another color than white for the floors, ceiling, and even the bed sheets. I’m surprised they didn’t dye the plants white, he remarked to himself. Lord Phaeron had ‘requested’ one of the best rooms, and the staff complied. Watching their reactions to The Midnight Unicorn had been an education in itself; other unicorns seemed to view him as both an overwhelming success and embarrassment.

            Yolanda stirred in her sleep, whimpering. Greg put an arm around her and she snuggled against him. At least Unicorns admit to the healing properties of a loved one, he thought. If Greg had been contagious, the staff wouldn’t have permitted it. Not that one could catch what he had. Technically, Yolanda was the injured party and the only cure was rest. Greg was fit as fit could be. He wasn’t even tired anymore – and after channeling enough magic through his body to burn out New York; he shouldn’t be fine, he should be dead.

            Greg found himself in the curious position of wondering if he would have been better off. The blue was tap-dancing on a tightrope, blindfolded, in pitch darkness. He needed answers fast, and there was only one way to get them at the speed he needed. He just had to sell his Lord on the idea.

            As if thinking his name was enough to summon him, Lord Phaeron suddenly parted the beaded curtain leading into his room and strode up to his bed. “Mr. Xiao-Phong; you’re looking indecently chipper. I checked with the head nurse and she says you’re as fit as fit can be.”

            “I’d like to wait until Yolanda wakes up before leaving, if that’s all right, my Lord.” His hand unconsciously stroked the ferret’s mane.

            “I have no problem with that,” Phaeron agreed. “It will be a nice surprise for her.”

            “She’s not the only one.” Greg replied. He was aware of having to be careful. Lord Phaeron most certainly hadn’t told anyone the true nature of his malady, but if that was the case why had he even been brought here? It didn’t make sense, but maybe he could use it to his advantage. He hated to force his Lord’s hand, but even after what he survived his Lord would be loath to allow him to take such a risk. “Pity we won’t have much time together, as I’m due for Cairo within a few days for my Walk of Shadows.”

            Phaeron blinked. “Oh yes,” he replied. “I’d forgotten about that. In that case, I’m afraid you can’t wait until she wakes up.”

            Greg frowned. “My Lord?”

            “I believe Yolanda lost consciousness in the certain belief you would be dead,” he continued. “It would be cruel to give you back to her and then snatch you away – with the very good chance of you not being so lucky this time. Don’t you agree?”

            For a brief second, Greg hated him. His Lord was right, but he hated him all the same. “I supposed you’re correct. My Lord.”

            He nodded. “I’m glad you agree.” He leaned forward. “Too bad I’m not going to let you off so easy. Wait here until Yolanda wakes up then inform her of your intentions. Who knows? Perhaps she can think of another solution.”

            Greg didn’t know whether to kiss the Midnight Unicorn or slug him. “As you command, my Lord.”

            Lord Phaeron nodded. “I’ll also be personally handling a certain prickly situation from here on out.”

            Greg caught on immediately. “I’m not concerned with that anyways, my Lord.” Too many questions still loomed. Was he right about Raquel? And if so, what did that make him?

            “Don’t keep your thoughts fixed on one answer that another one doesn’t sneak up behind you,” his Lord warned.

            “I’ll try, my Lord.”

            “See that you do.” He turned to leave, then glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “You realize if you fail, the Lord of the Black himself will raise you from the dead just so he can skin you alive.”

            If there’s anything left to raise, Greg thought to himself. “Let Lord DeSoie play his petty games of power,” he snorted. “There’s a new piece on the board, and it renders all his wheeling and dealing trivial.”

            “New pieces can change hands,” Lord Phaeron scolded. “Even ones that don’t want to be owned by anyone. In fact, such pieces can be easier to coerce.”

            “I will keep that in mind, my Lord.”

            “Besides you miscounted – there are two new pieces.” With that, his Lord left as abruptly as he came.

            Greg continued to stroke Yolanda’s mane in silence. Another part of his mind was whispering things to him he didn’t want to hear, but might turn out to be true nonetheless. If he was right about Raquel, and Phaeron was right about him, did he even have a future as a White? And, more importantly, did he have a future as Yolanda’s husband?

Sunday

Morning

            Raquel awoke with a warm body spooned against her; ever since Kayleigh, it had been her preferred way of waking up. The tigress, muzzy from sleep, wondered why they hadn’t made love last night as her arms slid themselves around the warm waist in front of her. Absently, she felt upwards for a nipple.

            “Well! Someone’s frisky this morning,” giggled an awake and sexy voice that did not belong to Kayleigh.

            Raquel quickly jerked her hands away. Oh yeah – that’s why. “Um, sorry.”

            “For what?” Vicki replied cheerily. “I liked it. You can put them back if you want.”

            “Urmpgh,” grunted a pre-coffee Kayleigh.

            Raquel desperately cast about for something to say. Fortunately, a smell intruded upon her nostrils. She sniffed. “Someone’s burning breakfast.”

            “Not me,” Vicki chirruped. “I know better than to approach a stove. I’d burst into flames like Dracula.”

            “Nrg,” agreed Kayleigh.

            “Come on,” Raquel urged, throwing off the covers. “It’s gotta be Cyndi. Let’s see how badly she’s doing.”

            “I take it Ms. Pricklybutt isn’t a good cook?” Vicki asked.

            Ms. Pricklybutt? The nickname made Raquel smile. “She’s not bad – until she tries to cook meat. How well would you do, making something that smells like garbage?”

            “How old is the garbage?” Kayleigh yawned.

            “Wiseass,” Raquel chided.

            “Maybe she’s trying to apologize,” Vicki added. “You were pretty steamed last night.”

            Raquel paused in the act of rummaging through her dresser for something to wear. “She met with the Lord of White,” Raquel growled. “It was a stupid, stupid risk.”

            “He tricked her,” Vicki chided as her and Kayleigh got out of bed. “Besides, she said he behaved himself.”

            Raquel pulled out a tank top and sweats. She tossed them one of her muscles shirts and a pair of Kayleigh’s sweatpants. “I’ll bet she would have met him anyways. You’re just taking her side because she healed Kayleigh’s ankle.”

            “Raquel,” Vicki chided. “You’re being thick-headed – with both heads. We’re all going to have to take chances if this whole mess is to get resolved peacefully.”

            “I wouldn’t say thick-headed,” Kayleigh hedged.

            “I would.”

            Raquel threw up her hands. “Fine, I’m being thick-headed. I just don’t want to see her hurt.”

            “I’ll agree with you on that,” Vicki smiled. “So, when do you plan on meeting Phaeron?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “Well, the quickest way to reduce the number of threats against Cyndi is to meet with the leader of one of the factions – who right now seems to be at least willing to talk. The longer you wait, the harder it becomes for Phaeron to be helpful.”

            Raquel pulled on her tank top and pointed at Kayleigh. “Has she always been like this?”

            “No,” the husky admitted, staring at her body-mate.

            “Being given a second chance has reduced my bullshit tolerance,” Vicki replied. “Life is a gift – don’t squander it by hiding your head in the sand. Or heads, in your case.”

            Raquel paused and considered the mink. If she were honest, her introduction to Vicki had been underwhelming. Sure, her situation hadn’t been entirely her fault, but Raquel had always a little tendency to prejudge the homeless as failures. Raquel understood bad luck, but letting things go so wrong? She couldn’t see it. She now realized she’d been painting Vicki with an undeserving stigma.

            Maybe no one deserves to be painted that way, the random thought chided.

            On that, she was willing to agree. Truth to tell, she found Vicki’s forceful attitude a turn-on. “Let’s talk it over as a group, since it concerns us all.”

            “Sounds good to me,” both Vicki and Kayleigh chorused. They looked at each other and giggled.

            Raquel sighed, and the three fems wandered out into the kitchen. Cyndi was indeed trying to cook a hearty breakfast – plates of eggs, sausage, steak and pancakes sat on the table. The pancakes didn’t look too bad and neither did the eggs but the bacon was underdone, the sausage overdone and the less said about the steak the better.

            Cyndi had a deathgrip on a frying pan, trying like heck to chisel sausage patties off of it. She glanced up. “Hi everyone,” she nervously smiled. “Breakfast is ready.”

            Kayleigh immediately snatched a piece of underdone bacon. “Thank you,” she enthused, sucking it down like spaghetti. “Bacon’s perfect.”

            “You didn’t have to cook the eggs,” Vicki chided. “Gimmie ‘em raw with a toothpick so I can poke a hole and I’m happy.”

            “Ick,” Kayleigh shuddered.

            Raquel grabbed a plate and sat down. “Looks tasty,” she lied, forking a piece of shoe leather cleverly disguised as steak. “Thanks, Ms. Pricklybutt.”

            “You’re we—what??”

            “I’ve never been a steak fan,” Vicki replied, spearing some sausages. “Now rabbit, on the other hand…”

            “Ms. Pricklybutt??”

            “Steak’s good.” Kayleigh blew a kiss at Raquel. “Cat’s better.”

            Raquel blushed. “I ougtha tickle you for that, except Vicki might object.”

            “No I wouldn’t,” Vicki riposted.

            “My butt is not prickly!”

            Raquel cocked her leftmost eyebrow at Cyndi while chowing down with her right head. “Would you prefer I called you Ms. Pillowbutt?”

            Cyndi plunked down at the table and sulked. “I have a cute butt,” she pouted.

            “I noticed,” Vicki leered.

            Cyndi gave Raquel a nervous glance. “Look, I’m sorry about--”

            “It’s okay,” Raquel forgave. “I’m sorry for overreacting. The question is, where do we go from here?” She tried not to think about Vicki’s last statement and if she was serious about it.

            “Invite Synne over for tea,” Kayleigh shrugged. “I think she’s safe enough.”

            “We can’t invite her over without Phaeron,” Raquel pointed out. “Especially not now.”

            “We could always go to their house,” Vicki shrugged.

            Raquel made a face. Twice. “I’d rather not give them the home field advantage.”

            Vicki raised an eyebrow. “For now, or ever?”

            “Ever,” Raquel admitted. She held up a hand. “But I realize that’s a selfish attitude if both of them prove to be on the up-and-up, so let’s make it ‘now’.”

            “Inviting them over here could cause problems,” Cyndi added. “I’ll bet his place is still watched. Let’s arrange to meet them somewhere in Avalon on neutral ground.”

            “I like it,” Raquel approved. “I’m sure Patricia will have a few ideas. Where is she?”

            “Patricia looked Vicki and Kayleigh over yesterday, then she said she needed to go check something out.” Cyndi shrugged. “She didn’t say where she was going, but she told me to expect her back in about a week.”

            “I don’t want to wait that long,” Vicki fretted.

            “Neither do I,” Kayleigh agreed. “But we don’t know anyone else who can suggest a good location in Avalon.”

            “I could always go to Avalon and scout for one,” Cyndi suggested.

            “I’m not thrilled about that,” Raquel admitted. “Especially since you’ve never been there. I say, wait the week.”

            “If we don’t hear from Patricia, can we get more proactive?” Cyndi pleaded.

            “Proactive’s good,” Vicki said around a mouthful of eggs.

            “I third the motion,” Kayleigh agreed. She smiled. “Or is that ‘seconded’?” Vicki tweaked her conjoin-mate’s nose.

            Raquel groaned. “It’s settled then.” She tensed; what she had to say next wasn’t going to go down as smoothly. “If you three want to do something proactive today, why don’t we all go to Franklin Park for an exercise run?”

            Dead silence as three pairs of eyes stared at her.

            Kayleigh was the first to speak. “Go out? Like this?”

            Raquel pointed with her fork. “Do you plan on staying indoors until it’s time to split up?”

            “Well, no but…” Kayleigh hesitated.

            “They could get attacked,” Cyndi said calmly. “Even if we give Phaeron the benefit of the doubt, an underling might decide to take matters into their own paws. And don’t forget about the Blacks.”

            “Believe me I haven’t,” Raquel replied. “I also don’t think my special status as the Guide amounts to a hill of beans – especially if I’m this avatar of destruction.” She stared at her friends. “But I refuse to sit in my apartment and cower; I’ve done way too much of that already. They can kill any of us inside this apartment just as easily as they can outside – easier in fact. I say if we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t, then damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead.”

            “I agree,” Vicki said at once, looking at Kayleigh. “I think we look beautiful, and I don’t want to hide away like I’m ashamed.”

            Kayleigh lowered her head, cheeks flaming, “You’re right,” she said hoarsely. “I’m tired of playing by their little rules. Let’s go shake things up.”

            “Don’t look at me,” Cyndi grinned. “I’ve already got an established history of being a rule-breaker.”

            Raquel thought she detected more than a trace of bitterness in her longtime friend’s voice, but decided not to press – especially since, in her shoes, Raquel might feel the same way. “It’s settled then. After breakfast we’ll drive over to Franklin Park and jog around for a bit. After that…well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

#

            Carl’s love life had taken an upswing in the past two weeks. He had a steady girlfriend again, and things were pretty hot and heavy between them already. If pressed, he might credit his good fortune to ‘Gemini’, the name given by the press to the two-headed tigress living in the city. He’d actually met her, albeit briefly, before the newspapers had been aware of her existence. Carl didn’t consider himself superstitious, but there’d been something about her…besides if there could be a fem with two heads, what else was possible? Suddenly a world where it seemed everything had been done – and then mass-marketed to death – was again full of uncertainty and surprise. He found he liked the feeling.

            “You going to admire your feet all day or tie those shoes?”

            Carl glanced to his left and smiled at the adorably plump fem raccoon “Actually,” he deadpanned, “I was admiring your pretty legs.”

            Gina dimpled. “Flatterer.”

            Carl finished tying his shoes and stood up. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.” Her smile broadened; what else could he do but kiss it? Gina was self-conscious about her weight; she ate right and exercised – heck, she was a physical therapist – but still couldn’t shed those last forty pounds. It didn’t help everyone else held it against her, too. Carl wouldn’t have looked twice at her three weeks ago. Even he couldn’t say what made him agree when she asked him out, but he was very glad. Carl could see himself spending the rest of his life with Gina very easily.

            Gina pulled away from the kiss reluctantly. She opened her mouth to say something and it stayed open, eyes staring over his shoulder. “Ohmigod,” she gasped. “It’s her!”

            Carl quickly glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, a unique figure had trotted up. The same fem porcupine who had been with Raquel last time trailed in her wake. Between the two was an openly lesbian couple – a fem husky with blue-gray markings and long braided black hair holding hands with a white fem mink. Both were very drool-able. Carl saw a chance to impress his girl. “Hey there – Raquel, isn’t it?” He called out

            The tigress stopped in mid-step and spun around. “Um, yeah, hello…”

            “Carl,” he reminded her.

            Both heads looked puzzled, then her right head’s expression cleared. “Oh yes, I remember you,” it said. “Thanks for the advice on the trails.”

            “No problem,” he grinned. Gina gaped at him. “Who’re your friends?”

            Raquel blinked in stereo. “Um. Yeah.” She gestured at the porcupine. “This is Cyndi.”

            “Hiyo,” the porcupine dimpled, waving cheerily. Carl noted she had a rich, melodious voice. He wondered if she was a singer.

            “And this is Kayleigh and Vicki,” Raquel continued, gesturing at the couple.

            They stepped forward. “Hi there,” the mink enthused, reaching forward to shake his hand.

            “Hi yourself,” he said back. The husky watched him carefully. Probably the jealous kind, he thought. And I’m not even her lover’s type. Or am I? He’d only been assuming the mink was a lesbian; she could be bi. “Nice day for a run, eh?”

            “Every day’s a nice day,” she told him.

            Gina gave the mink an odd look. “I couldn’t agree more.”

            Carl studied Gina. Now what’s that all about? It’s not jealousy – at least I don’t think so. “Well, don’t let me keep you four ladies any longer. Good seeing you again, Raquel.”

            “You too,” Raquel double-grinned. She turned to her friends and sprinted off “C’mon slowpokes, we’re burning daylight.”

            The lovers linked hands again. “Slowpokes?” The husky complained. Vicki and the porcupine giggled, and all three followed in the tigress’ wake.

            Carl watched them go for a minute. Had Raquel been giving him funny looks? It was hard to tell because of her two faces but he thought she was.

            Gina snaked her arm around his waist. “Poor fem,” she murmured. “I hope everything turns out okay.”

            He gaped at her. “For who, Raquel?”

            “No, Vicki.” She looked sad. “Some of my patients have terminal diseases. The ones who’ve come to terms with it have exactly the same attitude as her.”

            Small wonder the husky had been so protective. “Oh man.” Carl kissed Gina. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down like that.”

            “ ‘It's okay,” she said. “But you can keep kissing me if you want. So, that’s her, huh? She’s something to look at.”

            “Yeah.” He kissed her again. “I like looking at you better.”

            Carl never finished his morning run, although he still managed to get in plenty of exercise.

#

            Meet the happiest unemployed male in the city.

            Gregory always hated it when everyone shortened his name to ‘Greg’; in his mind, ‘Greg’ lacked class. Recently, he finally decided he’d Had It with the abbreviation, lacking class, and his job as a region manager for the biggest auto-parts supplier in New England. On call 24/7, fighting with product vendors, no social life to speak of – heck, he hadn’t taken a vacation for years! Was all that aggravation worth a 6-figure salary? Gregory used to think so, but not any more. It was almost like his concussion knocked some sense into him. His ‘friends’ thought he was nuts, and they all made it a point of telling ‘Greg’ there was no way he’d net another salary like that. Best he could hope for is half that amount in an accounting firm somewhere. Goodbye luxury condo, goodbye corvette, goodbye model-types drooling over his Rolodex.

            Gregory was rather enjoying the lack so far.

            It was in this blissful state that a group of fems jogged by him. Being male and in a good mood, he turned his head to ogle. A familiar, tailless tigress butt danced at the head of the pack attached to an even more familiar two-headed tigress. This time, he decided, I’m going to ask her out!

            Unfortunately, Mr. Tree once again had other plans.

#

            “Tonight, then?” Janice could not believe herself. Blushing like a schoolgirl, in front of a male a distinct notch lower on the social ladder than her? Tiffany and Muffy from the yacht club would be having kittens if they knew. Then again, they also wouldn’t have been having all the fabulous sex she’d been getting these past two weeks.

            “You know it,” Eduardo murmured kissing her hand. His name really Edward, but Janice loved referring to him by the Spanish version of his name. “Everything’s all set; my wife thinks I’m out of town. Frigid spouses are gullible like that.”

            “Indeed they are,” Janice enthused, although in the cheetah’s case her husband -- provided she hung on his arm at all the important business parties – couldn’t care less. It wasn’t until Eduardo had approached her two weeks ago that she realized how empty such a life made her feel. For the first time a voice inside of her whispered about long walks and romantic dinners, sweaty sheets and carnal delights. She found herself listening to it more and more. “So what time is good for you?”

            “I’d say…” He stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, look who’s making the rounds today!”

            Janice turned. Sure enough, the two-headed freak was back, jogging in full view like she had every right – and with a gaggle of fems, no less. “Honestly,” she spat. “Why can’t she have the decency to stay indoors?” She was going to say something else, but a black panther jogging in the opposite direction rubbernecked at the group and abruptly ran into a tree. Janice laughed. “Someone needs a designated walker!”

            Eduardo winced. “Ouch.” He patted his pockets. “Better call an ambulance for the poor guy.”

            A porcupine fem in the entourage glanced over her shoulder and cried out; the group abruptly stopped. “Why bother? Look, the freak and her gaggle of lezzies are going to lick his wounds for him.”

            Eduardo didn’t say anything for a while; he just studied her. Then, “I suppose you’re right.”

            “Of course I am.” The mink looked familiar. Now where have I seen her before? She studied the fem for a bit – too thin by half and that ass was from Cellulite City! – then shrugged and turned to her lover. “Now, then--”

            Gone.

            Janice frowned. Why did he take off so suddenly? Maybe he was playing a game with her. The Cheetah smiled; she liked his games because of how often they ended with both participants in bed. Her smile grew into a grin as she sprinted off down the path Eduardo had come up originally.

#

            A fem puma trotted along. This was her first day jogging in Franklin Park, so none of the regulars knew who she was. She seemed friendly enough, smiling and waving at other furs as she went on her way. The puma was quite the looker – pretty face, nice hips and ass, long sleek tail, and two sets of D-cup breasts. She already had a few phone numbers stuffed into her fanny pack of both interested males and fems

            She planned on getting more.

            A faint echo of song wafted along the breeze and the puma froze in mid-trot; no expression betrayed her feelings. Her ears swiveled as she pinpointed the source. She casually turned off the path, then quickly wove her way through dense underbrush. The puma stopped behind a thick hedge and carefully peered through it. She saw Raquel, Kayleigh and Vicki – Vicki?? – but right now couldn’t care less about those three. The singer was the only thing in the world for her, a red-quilled porcupine, checking over a male black panther, innocently humming. A normal furson wouldn’t have heard the fem ten feet away. A Gifted might hear her father than that, but not much.

            The puma would have heard that porcupine’s voice dead.

            Quickly, she bolted away before she could be spotted. More than once she staggered as her body trembled in unnatural ways. She had to get back to her car -- it was secluded, she’d be safe to let go there, she mustn’t be seen! Her feet hit blacktop; she stumbled to her beat-up Ford, fumbled her keys in the ignition, and dove inside.

            The puma slammed the door shut and put her face in her hands, shaking; her fur lengthened and changed color as her tail fluffed out and split in three. The revealed kitsune continued to weep. Shona, Yasika wailed silently. I should have known! Of course her love was responsible for Raquel – the whole labyrinthine scheme had Shona’s fingerprints all over it. In fact, now she thought about it, certain things her love had said and done the last few years of her previous life made sense now. Yasika had no idea what Shona planned, of course, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered – not her enforced membership in the Blacks, not the heightened activities of the Whites, not even the fact that Eddie seemed to always be able to find her no matter what she did. Shona needed her, and Yasika would come to her aid – no matter what.

            Finally, the kitsune managed to calm herself down. She smoothed her fur back in place and dabbed at her eyes. First things first, Yasika thought. Eddie’s due to come back from Egypt tonight; I need to distract him long enough to set up protections. Eddie had a passion for ancient grimoires, particularly those written in the Draconic tongue; one of her contacts in Avalon had one or two. It would cost, but distracting the bulldog would be well worth it. Phaeron was a more powerful Gifted, but only a fool bet against the current Lord of Black, even if he could only cast necromantic spells. Somehow, he always found a way to come out on top. Well, not this time, Yasika swore as she shifted back to her Jessica persona. I don’t know what Eddie has planned for Shona, but this time he’s going to fail.

            Yasika pulled out of the Franklin Park driveway and headed to her apartment. Her hand itched to wrap around the fragment of lyre she’d gotten from Eddie, but Yasika never brought it with her while off looking for Shona’s current incarnation. She might not be able to determine if Eddie could scry its location from afar but refused to take the chance. Yasika was tempted to pull a few pranks, making both Whites and Blacks scatter uselessly instead of looking for Shona, but ruthlessly squashed the impulse. I can’t afford to give in to my Restriction now, she told herself. Fortunately Yasika’s shape-shifting abilities afforded her easy opportunities to trick and fool furs. She could resist her Restriction when she had to – and right now, such resistance was essential. Any unplanned action could lead Shona’s enemies right to her current incarnation, and that had to be avoided at all costs.

            Yasika spent the rest of her drive planning. By the time she got home, she was smiling. First she would arrange a meeting with one of them in her Jessica persona, then another in one of her alternate personas…necessity or not, this was going to be fun.

#

            Raquel, Cyndi, Kayleigh and Vicki sat in a Starbucks across the street from the Providence Train Station. Cyndi held her steamed bark-juice, Raquel tapped the cover of her large warm milk, and the conjoined husky and mink each had an iced tea.

            No one had so much as touched the drinks, or spoken since they sat down. Two hours spent in the park, counting the ambulance, and not one fur had reacted to or commented on Kayleigh and Vicki’s conjoinment; either no one else noticed, was too polite to comment…or had been kept from noticing.

            A passing wolf goggled at Raquel. Normally she would have double-winked at him or licked one of her muzzles, but she was too preoccupied. Every time it looks like things are settling down, something comes up, Raquel mused.

            I wonder if I’m the reason,, came the random thought.

            Raquel didn’t want to dwell on that too much. “So,” she said, trying to sound casual, “how did you two like your first exercise as a duo?”

            “Interesting,” Vicki returned.

            “Very,” Kayleigh murmured

            “I thought you two handled yourselves very well,” Cyndi added. “I mean, coordinating and stuff.”

            It looked like Raquel was going to have to draw the subject out of hiding and beat it to death. She decided to be at least a little circumspect. “Cyndi, do you know what’s going on?”

            Cyndi shook her head. Raquel noted her eyes had purple highlights “Not a clue. There’s nothing extra on them from what I can see. Doesn’t mean there isn’t anything’s there.”

            Vicki stared intently at her iced tea. She seized the Styrofoam cup and took a deep pull, then plunked it down on the table as if daring her drink to object. “Nice to know they still do a good iced tea,” she smiled.

            “I suppose,” Raquel grunted.

            “Let’s do some shopping,” the mink urged.

            “Why? Do you wanna see if someone can see through…whatever this thing is that’s making you two look normal?” This from Cyndi.

            Vicki shook her head “I want to see what we can wear that comes on the rack. I can sew, but Kayleigh’s all thumbs.”

            “I am not,” the husky protested.

            Raquel dropped her voice. “You could be a target; you could both be targets.”

            “I seem to recall,” Vicki said dryly, “someone telling me they refused to cower in their apartment anymore. I don’t recall any mention of this being a proprietary attitude.”

            She’s got a point, the thought told her.

            I’m a special case, Raquel insisted.

            I think I said something about that, too, the thought answered.

            Raquel gave up; it was starting to sound like she was arguing with herself again. Besides, Vicki’s gusto was too close to her own – further disagreement would be hypocrisy. She rubbed a sudden tender spot on her right temple. “You’re right.” She reached forward and took Vicki’s hand. “Let’s go shopping, maybe take in a movie, eat lunch out, and whatever the he – I mean whatever else strikes our fancy.”

            Kayleigh gazed at Raquel. “And afterwards?” The husky’s voice was quiet and her hand inched towards the tigress.

            Raquel glanced down at the hand with one head which holding Kayleigh’s eyes. There was no mistaking Kayleigh’s meaning. Before the random thought could kick in she reached across the table. “I’m amendable to suggestions,” she purred, taking the husky’s hand and squeezing it.

            Kayleigh’s smile was like a ray of sunshine. “Good -- I have more than a few.”

            Neither of the fems noticed Cyndi winking at Vicki, or the latter’s triumphant grin.

Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport

Late Afternoon

            A distinctive figure waited by a black stretch limo outside of the East Exit. The reactions of the other furs who saw him were understandable; ‘taurs only comprised less than 1% of the population worldwide so furs always did a double-take upon seeing one. The cougar-taur – or at least he looked like one -- sat quietly on his haunches, not reacting to the looks being spent his way. His clothes screamed ‘stylish’ and murmured ‘expensive’; shirt, tie suit jacket and pants had been tailored right on his sleek body. Most ‘taurs went naked from the waist down because the animalistic nature of their lower bodies made wearing clothes down there a pain; besides, no one saw anything risqué through all the fur. This well-dressed specimen, however, wore a pair of pants designed a ‘taur’s rear; the legs ended just after the knee due to the digitigrade legs.

            A squat, powerfully-built bulldog with a cheery expression strode through the door, towing a solitary piece of black luggage. The cougar-taur straightened his tie by force of habit as the bulldog walked right up to him. “Jaleel,” he nodded.

            “Mr. DeSoie,” Jaleel replied with a slight bow to the Lord of Black. “Did everything go well?”

            “Out-fucking-standing,” he grinned.

            Jaleel managed to withhold a relieved smile only through hundreds of years controlling his expressions. “Excellent news, sir.” He carefully wheeled the suitcase to the trunk and placed it inside. “And I have some of my own as well. Your daughter’s in the limo.”

            Eddie stared at him. “Yer pullin' the short leg.”

            Jaleel turned to face his Lord. “Absolutely not – and it’s a miracle only partly due to the new mind-healer.”

            Eddie grunted. Adrianna retired only three days ago due to a stroke; Eddie sent her flowers – orchids, since that was the name of his daughter. “That was quick.”

            “The individual whose services I procured comes highly recommended, specializes in children and is a dream-healer as well. She’s waiting in the limo as well.”

            Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Brave fem.”

            “She can take care of herself,” Jaleel told him. He opened the door. “After you, sir. I’m having a summoned elemental drive.”

            “Just as long as it ain’t a fire elemental,” Eddie grinned. He climbed in the limo.

            He froze.

            This gave time for one of the two fems in the limo to make her move – a flying tackle-hug. She was a Chow/Husky mix about fourteen or fifteen years of age with white fur, matching shoulder-length headfur and blue eyes. She wore a tattered dress straight from the late 1800s minus the hoops – one of her mother’s dresses. “I missed you, Daddy!” She declared brightly.

            “Hey there, pun’kin,” he beamed, returning his adopted daughter's hug. She wagged her tail enthusiastically. “I missed you too.”

            “All she did was talk about you the entire ride over here,” the second figure said.

            Jaleel climbed carefully into the limo, laying down on the opposite bench-seat. “Orchid loves her father very much, Lady Synne.”

            Eddie pulled slightly away from his daughter to stare at the wife of his worst professional enemy. “She does her old man proud,” he replied neutrally.

            Synne absently smoothed a wrinkle from her rose-colored dress. “I couldn’t agree more. She’s a brave girl.”

            Eddie just nodded. He took Orchid by the shoulders. “Pun’kin,” he told her, “you’re gonna haveta go ahead back home with Jaleel, okay? Me an’ yer new nanny gotta talk fer a bit.” He gave her a grimace. “Grown-up stuff.”

            “Ick,” Orchid pronounced. “Will you be home soon?”

            “Yo bet I will,” he promised, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

            Orchid carefully moved over to Jaleel. The disguised Lamia said, “there’s something in the wet bar you might want to look at first. Lady Synne brought it.”

            Eddie nodded. “Alright.” It was an effort to sound nonchalant. His Second nodded, hugged Orchid and teleported, leaving him alone with Lady Synne Pothecarius, wife and sister to Phaeron, the Lord of the White. Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what had convinced Jaleel that Synne would be a good choice. Sure, he had a great rep – if one ignored the fact she probably reported everything she learned to her hubby. Only the most trusted Blacks knew he had a daughter, and fewer still knew her true origins.

            “Alone at last,” Synne smiled after Jaleel had left.

            Eddie gave her the fish eye. “Yeah, I can see yer creamin’ yer panties over the thought.” He opened the wet bar. “Can I offer ya-” He stopped. For the second damn time today he was taken aback; sitting inside was a leather strap, a small regeneration potion, a chopping board…and a butcher’s cleaver. The cleaver glowed a faint blue – the telltale sign of a vorpal enchantment. It could take someone’s arm off with one swipe.

            Everything he would need to cast a Soul’s Pledge on someone, and only one person to cast it on.

            Eddie took the cleaver out and examined it. He could play this cute with lots of witty one-liners, but decided to go straight for the throat. “Why are ya interested the job?” he replied bluntly.

            “You need a mind-healer,” she replied, “and a very good one. You also need someone you can trust not to reveal her existence in the game of politics.”

            “An’ ya think that’s you.” Eddie kept his voice flat.

            “The things I have brought will ensure that,” she replied.

            Eddie looked at the cleaver once again, then back to her. “That they will, darlin’. But that don’t answer the question.”

            Synne met his gaze. “I could not turn away from a child in so much pain.”

            Eddie nodded. He set the cleaver down and took out the board. “How much did Jaleel tell you?”

            “Nothing,” she said. “All he allowed was a preliminary examination.”

            “He’s th’ best Second anyone could ask for, shore ‘nuff.” He took out the leather strap and pulled it between his hands. “She was going to be one o’ Lashair’s toys.”

            “The previous Lord of Black?” Synne frowned.

            Eddie nodded and set the strap down. “Ayup. He worked on her for decades, tryin’ ta get her…programmin’…ri