A Bump in the Road. Chapter Twenty-Two.
A Bump in the Road
Chapter Twenty-Two
By Roofles
A stream of warm sunlight cut through, between the curtains, and sliced down over my body with it's morning warmth. It was nice. Having an actual nights rest. Days had gone by, or it felt like it, with little to no sleep. And now? Now I was able to get a full nights rest. Thank God for the little things I suppose.
A grumble from my side made me close my eyes tighter, stifling the groan I tried to pretend to just be asleep. Even as Tezca shifted himself into a more comfortable position. Which I swore he got up, turned around Three times on the bed before curling up, partially on top of me. Without actually looking I wasn't sure. And I wasn't about to.
I am not a touchy feely guy. I dislike bumping into people on the street or standing cramped in the subway or in an elevator. It isn't like I'm antisocial or anything it's just I don't have the need to. Not some needy freak that needs to hug everyone. Or to touch. Or have some form of physical contact because their mommy or daddy didn't love them enough or whatever the reason for it. Or they were from Europe.
It's uncomfortable, odd and just bugs the hell out of me. Its disrespectful and the only time I do it is in a more intimate situation. Not to say this was by any means!
When I was here, with, Tezca? I didn't mind so much.
Even though I found his arm behind my head the next time I woke up and my body resting on my side against him facing him. In his armpit. Not a pleasant thing to wake up to but it could have been worse.
I blame this for two reasons though that my mind quickly came up with finding myself, naked, in a bed with the larger man. First of all? He wasn't human. I wasn't going to pretend or even try to act like he was. I'm not an idiot ad when there's a freaking Seven foot jaguar in your bed? You sit up. Take notice, and make sure you hadn't been mauled on in the middle of the night. The underbelly of the cat, who was facing upwards, was white and far smoother, softer and warmer than the rest of him. It was already getting musky again as I found my own hand, with its own will, rubbing at it. Its was floofy. The natural oils having washed away in last nights shower.
The other thing that made me not scream, a manly warcry that is, and jump out of bed was simple. Tezca wasn't human. He was a big fuzzy animal and that, in a way, made things tolerable for him to be next to me, lazing on his back and soaking in the main part of the sun streaming through the window. But naked as he was, as I was, and the fact my head was in his armpit (which served a little too well as a pillow) was a simple fact. The fact was? He wasn't a man in my bed. Just a large feline. An animal.
I loved and hated my old dog Lucian but every night, no matter how hard I tried, he'd sleep in bed with me. And by the end of it? I didn't mind so much. Even that waxy fur body, smelling of animal and drooling all night on my leg? Not as bad as it could've been. So another such body in bed wasn't too bad - even if he was nearly three times the size of my dog. Taller than me. And smell far more like..male than I did.
Wild animals just had that animal...ness to them. Even giant ass were-jaguars. Combined with that oily fur and such? Just another reason why I hated nature. There was a reason man inbred animals until they looked like wide eyed babies. Because that's what people like. Stupid dogs and cats that don't stink, as much, or have the nasty smell of the wild. Smell a fox sometime, they reek like a garbage can. Perfectly natural. And disgusting.
There was one other factor I was really trying not to focus on. Tezca himself. Bound as we were I could feel a subtle calm from him. He was fully relaxed, not on edge as he had been since I had known him. Comfortably so, just laying there in the sunshine. Give a cat a pool of sun and he'll sleep for a week. And with it, like a warm summer breeze, it washed over me easing the tension from my shoulders and my breathing relaxed, matching that of the slumbering feline. His chest rose heavily and fell softly and I found we were synced with it. Something so small could be so relaxing.
Even so I still ignored him as I fished my phone out (yes, even after all this time I had my phone. We managed to get our stuff back from Lewis thankfully before we left). It had been off this whole time and so I got a stream of messages, emails and miss phone calls to sift through. It was time consuming and distracting. And allowed me to pull my attention away from the huge, massive really, naked male in the same bed as me.
Then a warm, wet, scratchy tongue licked the side of my face. Like warm sandpaper it scratched over my already "rugged" cheek and made me wince at the feel. Lucian did NOT have a tongue that could strip hide from the back of a deer.
"Isaac." Tezca said for about the fifteenth time. I had ignored him before but that scratchy tongue had a way of literally pulling your attention to him. "We got a letter." He motioned over to the door, his tail swaying behind him as brilliant teal fire eyes danced with a cat's curiosity. "And breakfast." His nose twitched.
I wasn't sure what he meant by the last part but a strong knock on the door announced it. I found myself holding my breath and nearly hiding under the blankets as a naked Tezca got up and walked over the door; even walking he had a powerful presence to him, each step was dominant and controlled planned out several paces before. His rear swished the opposite direction his tail went and strutting over Tezca pulled the door open, if only a hairs breath, to look outside unconcerned in the least of his naked body.
"Thank you." Tezca nodded to the bartender who looked at him with disapproving raise of an eyebrow and then over his shoulder at me. I did my best to pretend to be invisible and hide under the covers hoping my shame was hidden with me. The blanket was still warm from the other jaguar.
The door shut and I dared to take a peek over. Tezca bent down and picked up the note that had the night before been slid under the door, showing off his rear tail raised as he did so, and stood back up before walking over with heavy, yet silent steps. With a flick of the wrist he tossed the note to me before settling back onto the side of the bed. The whole king sized bed shook as he situated himself licking his chops as he looked at the meal in front of him.
"What's it say?" Tezca said around a mouth full of eggs before passing my the tray. Eggs, bacon and several pancakes took up the major portion of the tray. A slab of butter rested on top of the stack of pancakes and a small metal spouted cup filled with warm syrup was pushed into the corner, next to it. A flower in a glass vase had crudely been shoved between the three plates with an oversized flower that didn't look right and with it the bacon was sliding down towards it, its plate lifted up over the edge of the tray unable to fully on.
Tezca reached over, rolled a pancake and promptly shoved the whole thing into his muzzle, butter and all. I could hear his teeth rolling in his snout as it was chewed to mush and with a massive gulp swallowed away. Disgusting.
"It's an..." I opened the note using my pinky and folded the letter out. "An invitation." I frowned at it.
In pink scroll written at the top of the letter was "You are proudly invited to the Midnight Ball'e." Underneath was my name and it had a plus one guest next to it. I could only assume they were hoping for me to bring Tezca along. Not like I had much of a choice in the matter. The rest of the letter was information about it. Time, date, and where to go. It was today at midnight, go figure, and in some place I couldn't even pronounce.
"We're suppose to come in Masquerade?" I frowned as I reread the line several times.
"What tha' 'ean?" Tezca asked around another mouthful of pancakes. I swatted his hand away as he reached for the last one.
I didn't say anything as I sniffed the letter and the note. It may have been odd but you can learn a lot about the smell of something. Not the paper, although it was old parchment from a time long since past. But the perfume on it. Something I had smelled before, often.
"It means we got work to do." I folded the letter up and tucked it back into the note before dropping it on the side nightstand. "After breakfast of course." And we ate hungrily. Made a mess and thus I took another shower.
There wasn't a door on the bathroom so I shoved the room divider in front of it and explicitly forbid Tezca from coming in. A man needs his privacy. Even from the demonic spirit haunting him.
After the rushed shower I found myself giving me a once over in front of the fogged up mirror.
I was shy of Six foot with short dark brown hair and a rough stubble. I needed a shave. I had a strong jawline but somewhat soft features. Nothing that stood out. Nothing remarkable. That was me, your average joe. I had some extra holiday weight, a light tan and body fuzz. Athletic, as I did a hell of a lot more running in my job than you'd think (angry husbands with baseball bats can motivate anyone). The only thing that stood out was the teal fire behind my eyes and that massive scar on my chest and back. My chest had been somewhat fuzzy before and now was bare where the scar was, circling around it and running down my stomach to form a happy trail with my belly fuzz that led to my groin.
This scar. It was ugly. It was almost a perfect circle but there were jagged edges. The skin was discolored, far darker than the rest. It was the size of my fist and it felt...
I shook my head and washed my face off before drying and slipping out of the room in Tezca sorang, I decided it was suppose to be. Though it served more as a toga for me.
"We'll need outfits," and I needed a shave "before we go."
"So we are going?" Tezca said standing up off the bed and facing me. "You know this is a trap."
"Of course. Where else are we going to go?" I chuckled a bit. My body was still sore, tired and a very large part of me wanted nothing more to crawl back into bed head first and fall asleep under the pillows like an ostrich. The smaller, less loud part, was protesting against it. Telling me what I should do, not what I wanted. And I hated when I was right. "It's not a trap if we know it's a trap!" I tried to reason taking another bite of bacon.
"It's still a trap." Tezca frowned a straight line of disapproval. "Just because there is a succulent slab of deer hide," ew "in a metal cage doesn't mean you go in to get it."
"What if its a wooden cage?" I shrugged in return.
Tezca gave a toothy grin at that. "Then you just break through it."
I point two fingers, cocked my thumb back and with a single word we were off. "Bang."
First thing was to get an outfit and some part of me already knew where to go to find it. Tezca, at my request, had returned to his previous self. I wasn't even aware he could do it. Heading down the stairs I found a large, feral jaguar rubbing along my legs, circling around me like a vulture would a dead carcass, and found myself in front of none other than the Marques of the bar.
She was an older woman, though she didn't look like it. Her hair stood up roughly two feet off her head in multiple buns stacked on top of each other and pinned together and held with some kind of thick hair spray that made it all look plastic. It looked like a white wig but as she moved it moved with her. Her face was once lovely, and possibly still was, but she had slathered so much white make up on it that she looked somewhat like a pasty ghost. Red lips stick stood out on the white mask but it had been applied one too many times making it look as if she had twin fat lips.
A vast canvas laid over her that was the maroon dress she always wore. She was slender otherwise like a runner. The edges had frilly white laces that had grayed over the years. It all was moth eaten and still had dust bunnies on it like it had been pulled out of the back of my grandmothers wardrobe.
The rest of her was actually rather...lovely.
She had a full bossom, yes I use the term due to the fact she looked as if she walked out of some 1800s era to our own, with soft doe like arms and cute hands. They had a dark tan to them but it was natural. Somewhat like a barbie doll, in the sense that as it looked as if she had popped off some super models arms and attached them to herself. She reminded me of a cruel wicked witch than a vampire, yet the red wine stain underneath her bottom lip made me think otherwise.
"Oh, dearie. I do hope you got my letter safely." She offered her hand as I approached. And to be polite I took it like a gentleman and kissed it. She giggled at that betraying her age. She had a sweet, soft voice that didn't match her features, sounding far younger. We both knew she had to be far older though, ancient even. There was a strong scent of perfume around her that had clung to the invitation.
"Yes, thank you. But if I may ask, why offer us such a thing?" I was polite as I could be and though I probably looked like a freak in the sorang/toga with a bad stubble, it didn't mean I had to be rude to someone that could drink my blood. If any lore on vampires I read about was true, the older ones were the most powerful. The more deadly they were. That might've been Hollywood but I wasn't about to risk it.
She offered me a seat and I took it. Tezca joined me, sitting down. Raising a paw up he caught the bartenders eye who came over. I watched the cat as he sat there, placing his hands on the table and then folding them. He looked so much like a normal jaguar but clearly wasn't as he looked at the Marques as if he were a business man trying to settle a deal that could make or break us. Possibly literally.
"We'll have coffee." I said as the bartender came over. Tezca frowned and shot me a venomous look but didn't say anything else. He ate most of breakfast, he could deal with it. What a fat ass. "Put it on Marco's tab." I added and shot a look at Tezca who was scowling at me. If, on purpose, I could feel his pains of hunger.
"Like the room?" The bartender grunted and for a second I thought some trace of emotion crossed his bronze statue like feature. I wasn't sure if it was amusement or anger. I don't trust people I can't read.
"And breakfast." I added but there was a look between the bartender and the marques that told me it was already paid for. In fact. I didn't know either of their names and I wished to remedy that.
"Thomas." He said as I asked.
"Guinevere, my dear." She offered tipping her hand down as she did. I wasn't sure if I was suppose to kiss it or not. Rich jewelry hung from her wrist and multiple rings adorned her fingers. Each look like a different wedding band. Black widow. That's what she was. Not a vampire or witch, I decided. She had to have at least Ten plus rings.
"Isaac," I returned the favor even if they both already knew it. It was polite thing to do. And in this situation a little politeness was sure to go farther than not. More flies with honey after all. "And this is my partner Tezca."
"Is that what they're calling it now?" She chuckled, covering her mouth lady-like. The bartender rolled his eyes and left to get our coffee.
It took me a second. "No!" I said far louder than I should have getting a few looks. "No, no. It's not like that. Me and Tezca are just business partners."
"So was my Fifth husband." She tapped a ring as she spoke as if to indicate who. "Oh, he was a dear. It was what got me into the business, running it with me. He had the most lovely plumage," I wasn't sure what the hell she meant by that. And I didn't ask. "Until I found his plumage on his business partner."
Once more I didn't ask.
"He made such lovely dresses though." She cooed softly as she reminisced on times long since past. All I thought was. One? She was the perfect person to get a wardrobe from. And two? How the hell did she not know he was, to put it delicately, a butt bandit?
"Why did you give us an invitation." I asked lightly, trying not to put too much urgency on it. Even if it was one of the main reasons I had decided to talk to the black widow.
"You both have struck my fancy." And at this she rubbed the full set of rings and a deep part of me feared that she said the same thing to her other husbands as well. "A party gets so stale with the same crowd. The same small talk and banter, the same lies and backstabbing." She rested the side of her face, almost, in one hand and gave a sad almost pitiful look under the thick sleep mask of make up she wore. "When your my age," it was a test and I didn't take it. Ask a woman her age and you end up dead in a ditch somewhere. "Things get so boring, so quickly."
It was hard to tell, and only one that has a keen insight on the matter would even could. She smiled. It wasn't a open mouth, nor even a tug of the lips. Something about her features, in her eyes that gave it away. It was a devilish sign that, any smarter man, would quickly excuse themselves and run for the hills and never stop running.
Tezca seemed to miss it as he took the coffee, in a nice older styled English metal coffee mug, and poured two glasses for us. A feat in itself seeing as how he didn't have thumbs. The cups looked like something you'd pour tea into, not coffee. Golden rimmed with a white base, each handle was a curved piece of twin thin metals and the cup was some kind of porcelain. There was three cups, another seeming to just appear, and Tezca poured coffee in as well.
"Tea? Honey? Cream?" Guinevere asked as she scoop, one too many spoonfuls, of sugar into her own cup from a container next to the wall.
Tezca filled half of his with cream and lifted it up to lap at it happily. I just added a spoonful of sugar and a dollop of cream. Stirred it around with the tiny spoon but didn't take a single drink as we continued our conversation.
"We would love to go," and I let my voice carry the rest. A sorrowful tone can go a long ways. You don't even need to add a but and a reason for why you can't even go. And I had already caught her interest with the tone. She wanted to play me? I could play her. "Neither of us have outfits for this gala and we don't have a dime for such elegant outfits as your own." The last part wasn't needed and a risky gambit. If she thought of her own outfit as bad it could backfire, thankfully she seemed to adore the very thing she constantly wore even if it looked as though she pulled it from the very back of a wardrobe.
"Is that all?" She chuckled lightly, covering her mouth once more as she did so. Between her elegant fingers I could make out twin fangs. "Please, have no worry about that. I shall provide such necessities, after all. You are my guest." Her mouth barely open as she talk though I could hear her fine, a neat trick to hide ones fangs.
Tezca ear twitched at that and he finally joined the conversation. "You are inviting us then?" The way he said it was odd, the tone he used was older and there was something there I missed.
It caught her eye and behind them there was a flicker of hot red. "Yes, dearie. I invite you both to attend. As my guest." She added the last part looking solely at Tezca. "If that is all." She offered a hand and Tezca got up, I joined him and with a hand offered it to the Marques who only then moved to get up. She was defiantly from a different time but also was aware of our own current customs and chose to remain as a lady. If only to get under my skin.
I noticed, like myself, she hadn't taken a single drink of the coffee as we headed away from the table. Only smelling it's rich aroma.
"Come then, come." She motioned lightly and moved with a subtle grace of a feline. That or she floated across the room. I couldn't see her feet so that was a possibility I guess.
Tezca and I exchanged a look before following.
The door opened and behind it was a backroom. Not the white space between worlds but an actual backroom. The two of us exchanged another look before following.
Wooden floor boards stood firm underneath each step. Rows of metal racks were on either side, filled with clothing from era's long since past. They hung off of hangers and clips depending on the wear. Wire framework kept up other pieces and then there were those, raised up on higher rises, that hung from mannequins. Everywhere one looked there were different designs. Even from the ceiling there were, upside down, clothing racks with outfits hanging down. Every wall was filled and every corner.
Strong cultural influences of France could be seen in the outfit. Subtle things I couldn't point out (I'm not known for my knowledge in woman clothing). And everything was woman clothing. Different styles and designs and all woman clothing. Every last piece from the stockings to the under garments that I was sure was today's lingerie. I didn't like where this was going.
Turning around the corner I nearly ran into her assistance. The librarian book worm, college red head that I had seen several times in passing. She had freckles, pale skin and red hair that was up in a professional bun. If she didn't look like death I would've thought of her as the some kind of sexy geek. One that looked ugly until she undid the top button on her shirt, undid the hair and took off the glasses. A stereotype? Yes. Still good looking? Yes. That or I've seen one too many porno's during college.
"Sorry," she said adjusting her glasses and looking at me over them. Her eyes had a beckoning within them, with a fiery fever that didn't show on her pale cheeks. "I didn't see you there," and then she bit the end of her pencil she took behind her ear. "How can I," she breathed the last word. "Help you?"
"There is no need for that, Melissa" Guinevere said coming back around the corner with a ruffled collar in a white pleated fabric. Ok, so I knew some things about cloths. "These are already paying costumers."
"Oh," Melissa said withdrawing and dropping the act. The chicks at hooters were more subtle than she had been. "Very well." She adjusted her glasses, put the pencil back and fixed the single strand of red hair that had fallen over her face. And then turned and walked over to the front counter to get things ready. She wore a short miniskirt suit and gray nylons with high heels that made her body badunkadunk.
"Ahem," Tezca growled at my side, looping around my legs and giving the front of them a strong rub shoving me back. "We're here on business. Not to fancy your tastes."
"I was just admiring." I coughed looking away as Guinevere pulled out a few more outfits from the back room. "Like a cake," I tried to explain. "You look but never taste."
Tezca rolled his eyes and moved past. "We need something less frilly." He said with a soft growl seemingly annoyed about something. I blame the outfit. It was horrendous. Looking more comical than anything else with the parachute like pants and open shirt with the neck high collar and what I was sure a hat even a jester wouldn't wear.
"Like a tux." I said and she frowned.
"I'll check the back," she gave a scoff and quickly retreated apparently thinking her previous outfits were far better. For someone of her stature I didn't expect her to be so...hospitable.
"What do you mean we?" I asked the cat who had taken a seat and was glaring at the college student up front. She was only here for a temp job and acted as if she owned the place.
"We as in me." Tezca face didn't turn but his eyes looking back at me. "You do not plan on going to this alone, do you?"
"Well..." I figured he'd just be as he was now. Feral. It was far less...intimidating than him in his were form. "I guess not." I ended up giving in. "And you what? Plan to go in this," I motioned at the toga I was still wearing. It was better than being naked, though it made me look like a wild man. No. It made me look like a dumb ass college student who got too drunk and somehow lost his cloths. And ended up in bed with a giant jaguar. I could make Hangover look bad.
Tezca turned his head and gave me the once over. "It was the style back then." He repeated before his ears jumped up and he looked over at the back room.
There was a crash and several boxes spilled out and a rather frizzled looking Marques reappeared. She was a real working woman for someone of her...age. Her hair was still perfect, her mask still as thick (each more artificial than the other); her outfit was slipping off a shoulder and the wire framing keeping it poofy seemed to have been bent. In the next second she had fixed it all and was walking towards us.
"Here." She scowled offering the over sized suits. "You'll need to be fitted." She brushed a hand, almost, over her face before kicking a box back into the back room. If she could sweat I bet she would be.
"Damn," I bit my lower lip. I hated getting fitted for suits. Let alone going to a place that was bound to be my own funeral.