9. Lark

Chapter 9

Lark

"Get up and get in the shower. You have an appointment." Drake's voice takes me out of my pleasant dream of playing in the meadows back home.

"Appointment?" I wipe the sleep from my eyes. Drake stands at the stairs leading up to Flutter. There's a plastic bag in his hand.

"We don't have all day. You need to be ready by noon. And put this on." He lifts the bag.

I push to my feet and stagger towards him. I'm not usually up so early. When I make my way to him, he whips me around and unlaces the binder. I suck in a deep breath and let my wings flap behind me as I take the stairs behind Drake. I always breathe easier with the binder off.

"What's the occasion?" I ask at the top of the stairs.

"Don't ask questions. Just get washed up. And put on glitter. Make yourself sparkle."

My stomach tumbles. "What's going on, Drake?" I cling to the bag.

"Nothing. Just do as I ask." He threads a hand through his hair, then opens the bathroom door and shoves me inside.

"Please, what's going on?"

"Wash up." Drake locks the door behind me and I hear him slide down to add another barrier to me getting out. I may have tried to escape in the past. He got rid of the one tiny window the bathroom used to have years ago.

I can either refuse to do what Drake asked or follow directions. It's always easier to do what I'm told. I'm not interested in a beating today, so I strip down and shower. There's actually hot water and I almost cry because of it. But I push my emotions away to finish my task. It doesn't take too long to wash up, hair and all. I dry off and wrap my hair in my towel to investigate what's in the bag.

No. No, no no no no . What even is this contraption? I dig around looking for more, but there's just five pairs of… this? I imagine it's underwear. Each item has a strip of cloth, then straps. I've always performed in what Ava called booty shorts since they're so form fitting and, well, short. It's what Sparkle performs in too, and the other guys. I've never seen anything like this .

"I think you gave me the wrong bag, Drake." I call out.

"No, it's right." Drake unlocks the door. I cover myself as he peeks in just before entering. He pulls one of the things from the bag. "It's called a jockstrap. The cloth goes over your front and the straps keep it in place. Pick one and put it on." He throws the glittering pink pair at me and I let it fall to the floor.

"No." I don't wish to expose myself to him, so I stomp my foot instead of cross my arms. My wings flitter behind me. I can't keep them still. "Get me something else. I won't parade around in…" I wave a free hand at the jockstrap. "No." My cheeks heat and the mirror shows the flush goes down my chest.

"Once. Just once , I'd love it if you wouldn't fight me." Drake pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ava! Grab one of Trick's shorts, will ya?"

Soon, Drake throws my plain yellow booty shorts at me. "Get dressed." He slams the door behind him.

"At least I have full coverage," I mumble as I slide the shorts up. The blow dryer is loud as I work on my hair. I have no idea what time it is, but Drake can deal with whatever consequences there are if I'm late for this appointment. So much hair takes a long time to dry and I ache for my magic from back home. In the Fae lands, just a thought would have my hair dry. Drake keeps me so low on sunshine it's impossible to use my magic outside of the glow most day. Not to mention the spells he has wrapped around me. Finally, I brush glitter across my cheeks before opening the door to Drake pacing the floor.

"Finally. Now come on." He grabs my arm and pulls me with him.

"I can walk on my own." I dig my heels into nothing, but it stops him from continuing.

"Fine."

I follow Drake. There's too much pep in my step, but I'm relatively free for now. No binder. So far, it's a great day.

Until we get to a door I've been told is off-limits. Drake turns to me and drops his hands on my shoulders. "I've gone back on my word before. I've never felt bad about it, not one bit. But this time…"

My heart pounds in my chest. "What have you done, Drake?"

"Three million dollars. Who could pass that up? Three million for twenty-four hours with you."

I try to pull away. "You promised. I trusted you on this one thing."

"Never trust a witch, Trick. Never." Drake opens the door and pulls me inside. My legs threaten to buckle. "Trick, as you requested. Noon to noon."

There's a growl over my head. The Hellhound. I suck in a breath when I notice Pike frowning at Drake.

"I didn't say traumatize the boy. What the fuck did you tell him?" Pike smoothes his hand down the Hellhound's back, stopping the growls. "You know what? Never mind, get out." He waves a hand toward the door. Drake finally lets me go and leaves.

Pike looks me over. "You poor thing. I can't imagine what's going through your head right now." He steps over to a small table where there's a box. "I have something for you. I think you'll be more comfortable." He pulls out a shirt. Not just any shirt.

"How?" I whisper. The shirt is silk, green, and Fae with a back that can accommodate wings.

"I visited the Fae lands." Pike holds up the shirt and I walk right into it. He spins me to button up the back. "The queen of the Summer Court was very nice. She wanted to help."

My cheeks burn as I take in the pattern of the shirt with its tiny yellow flowers. "Thank you." The sleeves are a little long, but Pike rolls them up for me as I watch him.

"That's not all." He grabs something else from the box. "I tried my best to get clothes that should fit. I compared your size to one of the Fae running around the throne room, and the queen had someone bring these out." He presents me with soft cotton pants.

"I don't know how to thank you." I pull them up and on. "Perfect fit." I haven't worn Fae clothes since mine became threadbare and Drake took them away from me. I hug myself and squeeze my eyes closed as I savor the sensation of how light the cloth is. "Thank you."

Pike gives me a half smile. "I want to put you at ease. I didn't pay to sleep with you. Even though that's what I made Drake think."

"He promised he'd never do that to me." I tremble and cling to the table. The Hellhound boops my shoulder with her nose.

"Ah, this is Frankie, and I'm very glad you're not terrified of her."

"I think I remember snuggling with her." I hold out my hand and she rubs her nose along my palm.

"You did. She won't lick you. Her saliva is a bit like lava, and I know she doesn't want to hurt you."

I nod and reach up to give her head scratches.

"Frankie is going to keep a watch out for us. I already swept the room for bugs."

My nose scrunches. "Drake does very good pest control."

Pike's lips twitch, but he laughs anyway. "Not bug bugs." He taps a finger to his bottom lip. "Electronic surveillance devices."

"Oh. Did you check for spells, too?"

"Everything and we're alone. So I'm going to set Frankie right outside the door to keep Drake out." Pike grabs her harness and leads her to the door. He opens and helps get her settled. "I've calmed the boy down," Pike says to Drake, who must be somewhere I can't see. "Next time you really need to work on not scaring him. I want a willing partner, not someone that's going to fight me."

I can't hear Drake's response, but there's a thud of a glass on the bar top.

Pike's back in the room. It's just the two of us, and I'm glad I have more clothes on than just a pair of shorts. Pike's in a dark gray suit that looks immaculate on him. His horns shine in the bright lights. His tail sways from side to side.

"Come, have a seat." He gestures towards the couch on the opposite wall. There's a huge bed in the back of the room, and I have to wonder if Drake has been making anyone sleep with patrons or not.

I take a few hesitant steps towards the couch before Pike stops me. "Where are my manners? Have you eaten today? Probably not. Give me a second."

Before I can even answer, Pike disappears and I'm in the room all alone.

"What is going on today?" I whisper as I drag my hands down the silk shirt. "Presents and food?" I don't understand.

"Miss me?" Pike says with his arms full of pizza boxes. He's close enough that his tail wraps around me. "It's nice outside. Let's eat on the roof."

Before I can say anything, we're on the roof and he sets the pizza on the small bistro table we keep up here.

"Eat. We have much to discuss."