Chapter Fourteen

T here's some big wedding this weekend. Half the town is there, and businesses are closed. Marina is invited. I'm invited—as her plus one.

Going to a wedding with a girl is a big thing. It's like... permanent. I like permanent—when it's with Marina, but the speed of our relationship still leaves me shaking my head sometimes.

"When are we having our special little promise ceremony? I thought we h-ha- have mercy, sweet baby Jesus, girl!" I finish buttoning my good white shirt and have to fight the urge to rip it right back off.

"I couldn't wear white," Marina says as she emerges from the bedroom in a sparkling deep cerulean dress that glimmers. Her hair shines. Her teeth glitter like diamonds. I have to blink a few times to make sure it's not a mirage.

Then the mirage strolls into my arms and kisses me, a long, swirling tongue stroking around mine and making me wish we had time for her to wrap that magical mouth around my cock, too.

I check my face in the bathroom mirror. No lipstick. Actually— Marina barely takes up any space in my apartment. She has a toothbrush and a hairbrush in the bathroom. That's it.

"Wait, you don't wear lipstick, do you?"

"Nope."

"Your lips are normally that perfect shade?" I run my thumb over her bottom lip. Her smile widens, and I see it— I see the fangs for the first time ever. My stomach tightens at the adrenaline rush.

What the heck is... happening?

"You don't need some pads or tampons in here?" I back up and gesture to the bathroom cabinet.

Marina puts a seashell-shaped clip in her hair as she stands beside me in front of the sink. "No. I don't have the same reproductive capabilities. No monthly cycles."

My head is spinning—just a little.

Like, It's not that I didn't believe Marina, I just— Okay, I didn't believe Marina. Like, not entirely.

"What's wrong?" Marina turns to face me, lips pouting in concern.

Her pupils.

Fuck, there are little flames in the center of her eyes!

"I... your teeth. Eyes."

Marina blinks, startled. "You can see the differences now?"

I blink, too, but I'm trying to clear my vision. It's clearing, all right, but the freaky stuff isn't disappearing. "I think so."

"Oh, then darling... Wait until you go to this wedding."

THE GROOM IS GREEN . The best man is green.

The pastor is some normal pudgy, middle-aged dude.

This place is full of freaks, and I'm trying to figure out if I'm being punked or if I need to have myself committed to the psych ward.

Marina and I watch this pretty blonde human-looking lady get married to her big Scottish Orc. She's dabbing her eyes and cheering as the radiant bride and beaming groom march down at the end of the ceremony, and I'm nearly catatonic.

One of the guests has wings.

Wings .

I put a hand to my chest. No, my heart is still beating. Didn't die. This isn't Marina's version of Heaven—or Hell, for that matter.

"The mother of the bride is Farrah Fenclan. And over there? That's Madge. There's Tessa, you met her husband, Leo, the other night. That is Alban, he's a warlock. And of course, Jakob."

It sounds like everything is underwater.

Maybe someone spiked my protein bar at lunch? Am I on a trip?

"I couldn't ask them to help us with our ceremony until after the wedding. Farrah, Madge, and Jakob were all involved in the event. I will ask if we can have it at Jakob's library. Something small. Intimate."

"Warlock? Like witches?" I finally manage to speak as I'm hoisted to my feet and shuffled out of the rows of seats as the ceremony ends and the reception begins.

"I think saying the vows privately would do it, but Big K is very powerful. Magically enhancing the bond would be good. I was going to ask Calder and Janet to come, too."

Calder. Calder is her best friend, she says. She points to him now, and I almost scream like a girl in a horror movie.

Tentacles. Tentacles . Dude has tentacles—long and blue and gray, and he's walking—maybe writhing is a better word—across the grass with his arm around the waist of a sexy brunette in a hot pink dress.

"I gotta sit back down." I stumble into the nearest vacated chair and look up at Marina.

She doesn't look like a monster. She looks gorgeous. The moonlight makes her glow. She glows.

She's not just my beautiful disaster, she's my beautiful monster, and she's not dangerous—just dangerously attractive.

Marina waves at some people she knows, calling to them that she'll come inside in just a moment. She sits next to me and takes my hand, silent and supportive.

"Why are the people on the groom's side like eight feet tall and green?" Tell me they're not. Tell me I'm hallucinating.

Wait, that's worse.

Worse than the world being full of monsters and you're living with them??

Marina looks vaguely surprised. "Green. You can see that, hm?"

"I asked, didn't I?" My tone is short, like the amount of time I have left before I freak.

"They're Orcs."

"Like... They escaped from a Lord of the Rings convention?" A cosplay wedding. That's cool.

"Shh! No! Lord, no, and keep your voice down. We don't need to bring up harmful Orc stereotypes," Marina shushes me.

I gulp. "Is your bestie riding an octopus around the lawn?"

"Calder? He's a kraken. The tentacles are all his."

"One guy had wings!"

"Yeah. Lennox. Mothman. He only moved to town in February, but he's a sweetie. He does the gardening here. Isn't it gorgeous?"

I bury my face in my hands. "I need a doctor."

"Oh, darling! Where's... I just saw—there he is! Eddie!"

I look up in time to see a muscular brunette with a cocky grin racing over, suit jacket pulling off as he approaches. "What's the matter, ‘Rina?"

"Kevin. He's feeling faint."

"I'm feeling like someone slipped something into my protein bar!" I snap. "What the hell is—" I look hard at the man now kneeling in front of me. I know him. I've seen him around the hospital complex, getting coffee in the staff lounge. He's definitely a human, an EMT, I think. No weird pupils, no funny teeth.

"He's lived here for almost a month. And he's been with me for most of it." Marina has a pointed edge in her voice.

"Ahhh. Hey, buddy. You're gonna be just fine. Everyone here is safe. You're safe." Eddie uses his soothing paramedic voice on me. "Are things looking a little Halloween-y?"

I brush his hands away as he takes my pulse. "You could say that."

"And that freaks you the fuck out because that means you're not sure what's real and what's not, and if monsters are real, then bad things can happen, ‘cause monsters are bad, right?" Eddie says patiently.

I don't know whether to be comforted or offended. This guy just read my mind—but he called me on all the stereotypes. How can I think all monsters are bad when my girlfriend is a "monster"?

"I know not all monsters are bad," I say defensively. "But why couldn't I see it before?"

"Most humans can't. They either have to be open to it or have it shoved in their face so hard that their brain can't find any other explanation but the truth." Eddie looks between me and Marina with a little smirk. "Guess someone is pretty serious about a certain lovely little rusalka, hmm?"

I don't know how to feel about the rest of it, but that much is true. "That's my girl," I say, voice gruff as I seize her hand. I know all about stupid stereotypes. I shake my head to clear it. "Sorry. I guess I just haven't seen—"

"We call it the Mist. Most humans can't see through it." Eddie pats my back and rises. "You're gonna be okay. And if you ever need to talk, you come find me in the hospital."

"I don't get over to emergency much, but—" I freeze in mid-speech as Eddie's body twitches, shivers, and stretches. The short stocky brunette is now a taller, lankier blonde with squinting eyes, like he needs glasses.

"Just come up to prosthetics and ask for Dr. Jack Ellsworth."

"What the—" The only word I can think of is shapeshifter. Is it rude to blurt that out? Probably.

My manners are on hiatus. "Shapeshifter?" I gasp.

"Hrmm. More like science experiment, but sure, shapeshifter applies. You've got yourself a real peach of a lady." Jack shrinks and condenses, and swarthy, smirking Eddie is before me again. He winks at Marina.

Marina blushes.

"Hey, did you two used to—"

"We have enough to worry about. I'm not hungry for the cake, honey. Let's go home?"

"Home sounds good." Safe. Normal. Well, I guess I'll have to learn about a new kind of safe and normal, but I'm not willing to lose Marina over it.

She pulls me away, and I hesitate, jerking my chin toward the reception inside the mansion. "Those are all good people, huh?"

"The very best."

"Tell me about them. Have I met anyone with your ‘culture'?"

"There are no other rusalkas here. Minegold is a vampire. Leo is a werewolf. So is Jasper Wainwright. Oh—when we get coffee at The Pine Loft? Um. That's the bride and her brother. It's Orc-run."

"And there are monsters—damn, is that term offensive?" My tongue suddenly wants to hop out of my mouth. What if I've been going around saying slurs?

"I think a better term might be paranormal citizens, but saying monsters is okay if you're using it like a state of being, not a state of heart." Marina pats my arm. "It is what I am, and I know this—but you are the first one in a long time to make me feel like I am more than that."

Her words relax my muscles a little. I manage a smile and try to keep my voice light. "Are there paranormal folks all over the place?"

"Yes and no. There are a lot in bigger cities. There are some scattered in towns. There are only a few places where a bunch of us are gathered together. Even though Pine Ridge is what I'd call paranormal-friendly, we don't advertise our supernatural abilities. Most of the town coexists with the ‘monsters' without even knowing it."

"I think I should go in and mingle for a little bit. Try not to act like I'm a monsterphobe."

Marina's smile could outshine the moon. "I love you more than you will ever know, Kevin Bailey."

"Good."

"But a quick toast to the bride and groom is all I have time for. I'm ravenous. Need to feed." Her fingers tiptoe up my chest, ending under my jaw. The moonlight hits her smile, and I can see how sharp it is.

Sharp, and seductive. My eyes practically cross when her other hand slides down and cups my crotch.

"Little black bra, barely-there thong, and long, long black gloves? A string of pearls that you make for me? Hmm? If I inspire you?" she whispers, running one finger over the plunging neckline of her dress.

"Need to feed?"

"Mmhmm. Your energy sustains me. Souls sustain Koshchei. Killing sends him souls. But simply taking your cum? That keeps me alive."

Ohhhh. Oh! I get so many things right now—and Marina watches the change come over me.

She shrinks. Shrivels in guilt. "Are you... Are you disgusted?" she whispers.

"Huh? No! No, no." I pull her in close. The next question I ask is going to make a big difference to my future and Marina's, too, so I ask it carefully. "How often do you need to feed?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Marina shrugs. "I can go for days without eating, but it's painful. With you—with Gregor—it was different. With you, I feel full. I think I could go for months, but even if I couldn't..." her eyes with their dancing flames in the center look into mine, "I would rather go hungry. I found out very soon after meeting you that I have no appetite for any other. And Mr. Minegold gave me a special necklace I can wear that will store your energy for me. Sort of like having an emergency snack supply. If things between us stay the same, I can start to wear it when we..." she pauses, seeming flustered for a beat. "But I would understand if you are repulsed and if you don't like that when we make love it is also feeding me."

"Also?" My eyebrow arches.

"It is also because I am built to crave pleasure." I see her thighs squeeze shut in the sheath of her dress and a desperate look comes across her face. "Mainly it is because... I love you. I would want to make love to you every night even if I was a normal, boring human. No offense!"

"That's cold, baby." I pinch her rear, and she moans, the sound jolting straight into my cock. "I'm not repulsed. I'm worried. Am I enough?"

Marina bounces in the grass, nodding, hands clasped in front of her. "Yes! Yes, you are. I can prove it."

"You don't have to prove it—but I wouldn't mind a friendly demonstration when we get home." I square my shoulders and shake out my hands, jogging a couple of steps in place. "C'mon. Let's go introduce me to people. But if anyone looks like they're gonna bite me, I'm counting on you to save my ass?"

"I will guard your ass with my life."

We both laugh and walk in, arms around each other, her hand in my back pocket.

Girl takes her job literally.

KEVIN SURVIVED. HE survived, he had fun, and he had a lot more champagne than we planned on. One quick drink turned into three. I'm afraid that when we arrive home, he won't be up to making love.

I tell myself I can be patient. I can wait. After all, next weekend, he'll be mine. Minegold, Alban, and some others agreed to help us with a little promise ceremony. Farrah called it a binding.

"Tell me what else I should know about you, sexy lady." Kev smiles at me as he locks the door of his apartment, a tipsy grin that makes him look absolutely edible.

"Ask me something. Anything."

Kev spins me around and kisses my neck. "Why do you always smell like rain?"

"I'm a water-dweller by nature. If I'm out of the water for more than a day or two, I'll wither away. Turn to dust, I think."

"So we're looking at lakefront property." Kevin's lips trail pointedly lower.

I feel his hands against the narrow zipper on my dress, and with a shimmy, I drop the dress to my hips, breasts bouncing free. Kev captures one nipple with greedy sucks, palming the other, squeezing as he circles.

"How old are you?"

"In human years? Over 400."

Kev gasps, standing straight up, but I change tactics, pursuing him now, hands popping open buttons with practiced flicks, itching to get to the hard muscles underneath. "You don't look more than thirty!"

"Well—this is my last century, Kevin. I'm going to grow old with you." Or old alone. Or maybe I won't make it past Koshchei's rebirth... Hey, I have hope, but I'm not entirely unrealistic.

"No wonder you're so good at history," he huffs, shaking his head.

"You're taking this very well."

"I'm a little drunk—and you've got the most fuckable boobs."

"But you haven't yet," I tease, pulling him by his belt into the bedroom.

"Haven't what?" Kev looks up at me with slightly glazed eyes.

"Sit there and be a good boy, darling," I purr, pushing him on the edge of the bed. "I'll be right back."

I TAKE OFF MY CLOTHES and drink some water while I'm waiting. Marina went into the bathroom, but to be honest, I'm not sure what's going on. My girlfriend told me she's pushing five hundred, she needs to be watered like a plant, and I'm okay with it. Because it's her.

"Man, this is so not what Responsible Kev would go for..." I huff, tossing my socks at the hamper and missing. That's also Tomorrow Kev's problem. I flop back on the bed.

"Hello, lover."

I sit up straight, and my cock springs up with me.

Marina is leaning on the doorway, white skin wrapped in black satin panties and long, long gloves. She cups her breasts and her mouth forms a pretty little "o" as she saunters over. "You like?"

I nod. Words gone.

My girl is every sex symbol I've ever had X-rated thoughts about wrapped up in one skimpy package.

"There was a bra with that set," I croak when she slides down to kneel in front of me, black-gloved hand wrapping around my cock.

"I know. But you're not going to want it in the way, sweetie."

"Oh. Oh, God, Marina..." Black satin fingers wrap around my cock, and I stare down, entranced.

Sharp, gleaming teeth flash, and I want to flinch, but my reactions are too slow. I kind of gasp, but that gasp turns into a long, low moan as Marina's tongue swirls slowly around my tip and keeps on going. Marina looks into my eyes, letting her tongue wind and curl, dark pink flesh making tight rings around my shaft until the tip flicks against the soft, sensitive spot where my sack meets the base.

Why the fuck is that so hot? My breathing is erratic, and I can't think straight. Shake my head. Can't see straight, either.

But no, I'm really seeing this, the way Marina's neck moves like living silk, like liquid moonlight, bobbing and weaving as her tongue strokes and pulls.

With a sudden recoil, her tongue slips back into her mouth and she smiles. "You don't mind, now that you can see?"

"I don't mind," I pant, wanting the warmth of her mouth back around me. "Kind of sexy."

"Is it?" My temptress leans back, hands behind her back, showing me a long, lean torso topped with perfect melon-sized breasts. Her tongue easily falls between them, then lashes and flicks from nipple to nipple. Marina moans between licks, and one hand comes back to the front to slide under her panties. When she notices how hard I'm watching, she pulls the crotch to the side so I can watch her gloved fingers playing with pretty pink folds.

This gives "playing with herself" a whole new meaning. Her fingers plunge in as she gives an open-mouthed groan of pleasure, hips rocking on her hand while her tongue laps at hard pebbles of nipples.

" Definitely sexy. My God..." It's a kind of messed up prayer. I'm in awe, but I'm also thankful that my eyes are working enough to see this amazing thing, this amazingly hot thing.

"I want you," Marina stops teasing her nipples with her flexible tongue to purr at me.

"Mutual, baby." My eyes are glued to the image of her fingers being engulfed in her pussy as her hips bounce restlessly against her hand. Her wetness shimmers on the fingers of her glove, and the dark fabric starts to glisten.

"I want that pussy," I rasp, bending down to pull her back to me.

But Marina stops, hands bracing against my knees. Her soaking fingers slide between her breasts as her mouth swallows my length in one fast swoop. When she pulls back, her breasts take its place, cushioning my cock between them.

"You move your hips," she whispers, arms locking around my waist.

The effect is instant, with her hands kneading my ass and her breasts smashed around my cock, leaving me in a warm, silky paradise that's different from her mouth or any other part of her.

"You're so good to me," I marvel, hands cupping her face for a moment before we can't resist and friction starts to drive us. My hips pump and she shimmies with me, a shallow glide while we lock eyes.

"No, my love. You're good to me."

"It's both ways, baby."

Her eyes light up. "It is?"

"You spoil me. You make me happy like nothing and no one else ever has." It's not a shock to realize it, it's just time to hear it out loud, to make sure Marina has no doubts. Probably any man thinks that when he's balls deep in between perfect breasts with a goddess on her knees for him... But it's not just sex, it's not anything but the way I feel around her. "I wanted to find the one I fit with. The right groove." I break her grip and leave titty heaven to pull Marina up on the bed. She slides her underwear off and settles instantly on my chest, hips rocking backward to pull my cock in deep.

Liquid gushes around me, and a hundred little suckers tease my overstimulated cock, threatening to make me come on the spot.

"Beautiful boy," she whispers.

The flames in her eyes are dancing, but this time I walk through the flames, not looking away.

Maybe it's the champagne, or maybe it's some rusalka trick. I can see her swimming past ice floes and through water so dark and cold that it's black, swimming without coming up for air, a haunted, hunted expression on her winter white face.

"Swim to me," I whisper, digging my hands into her back, keeping her close.

Marina's cry is a mix between a moan of pleasure and a sob. "I have. I'm caught in your net, and I never want to be released."

"Not a net, princess. Lifeline. We'll keep each other safe."

"I promise," she vows. Her eyelids close, and her head drops to my shoulder.

The end of our lovemaking isn't so desperate and frenzied. It mellows. Lazy. Satisfying. The long, slow way you eat dessert when you're already contentedly full, but you want that sweetness. My fingers tangle in her hair as her magical suction drags a slow-building orgasm from me, the tingles of pleasure turning into throbs that make my knees buckle and my ass clench when I finally feel her walls quivering and quaking out her peak. I empty inside of her in the midst of the squeezing maelstrom, a long, satisfied cry of "Yes!" echoing in my still apartment.

Our still apartment. Gonna marry this girl.

"Would rusalkas consider that little promise ceremony a wedding?" I ask, still buried inside of her.

Marina doesn't stir, just murmurs. "I don't know what others would say. We cannot marry, cannot love. We cannot breed without Koshchei." There's a moment of quiet, and then her voice is stronger. "I consider it a wedding—and a play that he'll never expect. My soul will be protected... I hope yours will not be endangered."

"There are some things worth risking your soul for. You're one of them."