Charmed in Vegas: Bad Potions (3 page)

"And your hair." Aidan gingerly poked at it.

"It's called  a pompadour. It's Vegas. I wanted to pay homage to its King." McAllister batted Aidan's hand away. "No touching. I don't want to ruin it."

"I don't think it's possible to make it worse." The hair in question was pink as a raspberry and held enough hair gel to turn it into a helmet. It was not a good look for the pixie.

McAllister shot Aidan a pointed glare. "Careful. Talk like that is what keeps getting you in trouble." He glanced at the people milling around the club. "You’ve got your work cut out for you, my friend.”

Aidan snorted and glared at the pixie. “You think? Tell me something I don't know.”

“How about the latest gossip from Court? Do you want to hear the news, or," he flapped his wings until he was airborne, "I can just go if you're going to be sour as a gnome sucking a troll's hairy balls.”

Aidan rolled his eyes and took a sip of his mead. Pixies couldn’t resist gossip and McAllister, with his pink fluffy wings, was all pixie, even if he did have the face of a troll—a fact no one mentioned unless they were looking for a fight.

McAllister’s wings twitched in annoyance as he lowered himself to the bar. “Don’t act like you don’t care, you sod-ass. You want to know what they’re saying.”

“Then tell me.”

“Well, you went wrong with the whole moon thing. No woman wants her ass compared to not one, but two full moons. I think that was what put you over the edge.”

Aidan felt a flush rise in his cheeks. “I meant it to be a compliment.”

“Which is why your fecking head is still attached to your neck. The Lady knew your intent was good, but a lesson was in order just the same.”

“Well, now what? Everyone here is fair." He gestured to the dance floor. "There's no one so ugly as to fulfill her requirements.”

“Make the best of it and hope you get lucky,” McAllister said as he flexed his wings, preparing to take off.

“Where are you going?”

McAllister paused. “I’m going to look for a good seat so I can observe.”

“Ahh, I see. You’ll be reporting back to the Queen.”

“Yes, my friend. I’ve been chosen as the executor of this task.” And with that, McAllister flitted off, leaving Aidan to fend for himself.

Aidan downed the last of his mead and made his way to the dance floor. At least the music was good, the same stuff they played at Court. He allowed himself a few dances just to release his pent-up frustration, scanning through the crowd for a potential partner. The shadows from the erratic pulses of strobe lights sometimes gave the illusion of a less-than-pretty face or figure. Once or twice, he thought he might have found someone only to learn, upon closer inspection, they would not qualify.

But then he became aware of the woman next to him dancing like she was possessed, and once he caught sight of her, he was riveted. Not by her beauty, for her loose hair hid her face. Nor was it her figure that captured his attention for her floor-length skirt topped with a too-big, long-sleeved shirt made it impossible to determine if she was of good form or not. No, it wasn’t her physical appearance at all that demanded his attention, it was the frantic desperation of her movements that called to him. Something was trapped in this woman, fighting to get out, and he found the progression of the battle fascinating.

***

M
arion grooved in the center of the dance floor and let the music carry her away. She was no longer failing at potions or even human; she was music. The bass throbbed through her body while the melody rushed through her veins. All that mattered was moving in time with the beat.

Raven nudged Marion. “Don’t look, but someone’s watching you.”

Marion went still. “Where?”

“Behind you. He’s cute. Although I don’t get what he sees in your hobo-purdah look.” Raven did a little spin combined with a hip thrust. “Come on, dance and try to pretend you’re not a walking fashion disaster.”

Marion shook her head, spooked. People didn’t stare at her. Half the time they didn’t even realize she existed and she liked it that way. She’d worked hard to be unnoticeable and it unnerved her to think someone was immune to her façade. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Raven shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She made eyes at the young man next to her who returned her interest and they began to dance.

Marion pushed her way through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor. Moving quickly, she made her way up the stairs that led to the patio on the roof. The club sat at the top of the Avalon Casino and normally the roof bar was packed, but Marion was relieved to find herself alone. The day had been windy and that tended to keep people inside because of the desert dust. Walking the length of the night-shadowed patio, she leaned against the railing and looked at the street below.

A pang went through her at the sight of the couples walking along the Vegas Strip. They cuddled up against each other, hands tucked in their partner’s back pocket. They kissed and giggled. Would she ever let another man get close like that again? Suddenly she felt very alone and very small.

“Are you all right?” asked a deep voice behind her.

Marion jumped and turned to find an elf with attractive chiseled features smiling at her. The tips of pointed ears poked through his blond hair, and he towered a good six inches over  her. His form fitting black leather coat outlined broad shoulders and the trim musculature of his physique. Large hands gave the impression of great strength, enough to snap her in two if he wanted. Marion shivered and said nothing, filing him into the 'handsome but lethal' category in her head.

He took a step toward her, an expression of concern on his face. “You’re cold.”

She edged away from the stranger, eyeing the door. If she ran fast enough, she could make it before he caught her. Or at least she hoped so.

“Do you speak?” the elf asked. “I was watching you dance and then you just ran away. I had hoped maybe we could...” He trailed off as Marion shook her head.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“I don’t dance with people I don’t know.” Marion took a step towards the door relieved to see the man didn’t move to stop her.

“That’s a shame, because you dance quite well.”

“Thanks.” She passed him, intent on reaching the door. It meant safety.

“Before you go, could you tell me your name?”

She froze and looked back at him over her shoulder. He wanted her name? Why?

Sensing her hesitation, he said, “I’m Aidan.”

“Marion.” Marion kept a wary eye on him, watching for signs of any magic. She knew elves were the good guys of Fairy, as a general rule, but that didn't mean they were safe. Not in her book.

“Nice to meet you Marion.” He moved toward her then, hand extended and she bolted, running down the stairs and bursting into the club.

Dodging the crowd of dancers, she located Raven grinding against a muscular guy with a shaved head. Grabbing her friend by the elbow, Marion yanked Raven off the dance floor, ignoring her wails of protest.

“What is your problem?” Raven glared at her. “I had a good thing going there.”

Leaning close, Marion told Raven about the guy on the roof.

Raven shook her head. “You’re freaked out because a guy dared to speak to you? What am I going to do with you?”

When Raven put it like that, Marion did feel a bit stupid. So much so, that when Raven took Marion’s arm and pulled her back up the stairs to the roof, she didn’t resist.

***

A
idan sat in a plastic lounge chair on the bar's patio and looked up at the sky. The stars twinkled at him in what he took to be amusement at his predicament. He’d taken the Queen’s curse to mean he was to find an ugly woman and please her. Not that he’d have to pursue a lovely young woman who was obviously terrified of men.

Sex he could handle. It was something he was good at. Coaching someone out of their shell was foreign to him. Women threw themselves at his feet, begging for his attention—just look at Serena. They didn’t run away. Strange, very strange.

She’d said her name was Marion. That and the fact she danced like a prisoner trying to break free was all he knew. The question was, what could he do to ensure he had the chance to learn more?

A clattering of feet on the stairs interrupted his thoughts and two women stepped onto the roof. One he recognized as the vivacious brunette that had been dominating the dance floor and the men on it for the last hour. Behind her came Marion, protesting loudly and often.

“Really, Raven, I don’t think this is necessary. What do you think you’re going to accomplish?” Marion fought her friend’s grip.

Aidan waited, intrigued to see what would happen next.

The brunette spotted him and her face lit up in a smile. Dragging Marion with her, she came to stand in front of him. “Hello.”

“Hello,” he said not missing the way she assessed him. From the appreciative gleam in her eye, he must’ve passed inspection.

“My name is Raven and this,” she thrust her companion in front of her. “Is Marion.”

“We’ve met,” Aidan said with a nod to Marion.

“Yeah, we’ve met already. Actually, we’re done meeting.” Marion finally twisted free of her friend’s grasp and glared at them both while rubbing her arm.

“You were the one watching Marion on the dance floor, weren’t you?” Raven asked.

Aidan nodded. “There’s something unique about the way your friend dances.”

Raven laughed. “Yeah, it’s called sexual frustration.”

Marion gasped and hissed, “Raven.”

Raven ignored her. “You see, Marion’s my roommate and she never goes out. She sits at home and blows up love potions in ratty old sweatpants. I can’t take it anymore. She’s ruining
my
love life. Since you seemed interested, I thought I’d facilitate a conversation.”

“I’m going to hex you the second we get home,” Marion said.

“I’ll double-hex you back,” Raven said with a sigh of exasperation.

"You can't hex me. You're an herbalist." Marion frowned at her friend.

"I know a thing or two about magic," Raven shot back.

“Are you looking for love?” Aidan asked, interrupting the two before their spat escalated.

“No.” But Marion wouldn’t meet his eyes when she said it. The troubled expression on her face made him wonder what her previous romantic experiences had been like.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” Raven edged back toward the door. “I’ll have the bartender send up some mead, okay? My treat.”

Aidan nodded while Marion just glowered at her feet.

Raven shook her head. “Come on, Mar. He’s a perfectly nice elf. It wouldn’t kill you to sit and talk to him.”

“Fine.” Marion stomped over to the chair next to Aidan and plopped down with such force, she started to topple backwards. Aidan reached out and caught her, gently setting her right.

She blushed. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See? Perfectly nice,” Raven said with a pleased smile. “I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit. In the meantime, for the love of the gods,
talk.”

Marion stuck out her tongue, but Raven had already disappeared down the stairs.

Aidan laughed at her impudence, a response that earned him a dirty look, which he found doubly amusing. He studied Marion, noting the delicate bone structure of her face, the deep brown eyes which flashed bright when she was upset. Her hair flowed down her back in a glossy wave. She was pretty enough, but her clothes were so baggy that he had no idea what she looked like aside from her face.

“I won’t bite, you know.”

“No?” she said, doubt threading through her voice.

“No.”

She flushed. “Of course not. I mean, it’s not like you’re a vampire or anything.” She paused. “You aren’t, are you?”

“No. I’m an elf.”

“You look like an elf.”

“I do?”

“Well, you have the pointy ears. Vampires don’t have pointy ears.”

“No, they have pointy teeth.”

She gave a nervous laugh in response.

“Why do you blow up love potions if you’re not trying to fall in love?”

“I’m taking a potions class.”

“You’re in school then?”

“Yes. I’m working toward a magic degree. Only...”

“The love potions keep exploding.” He finished.

“Yes.” Marion sighed. “I don’t understand it. I’m doing everything right, but no matter what I do they just go...kablooey.” She mimed an explosion with her hands.

“Well, maybe it’s just that you’re too hot for your love potions,” he said in jest. Joke or no, it was the wrong thing to say. She went stiff and pulled her arms around her body again. He sighed. There he went again, sticking his foot in his mouth.

“It was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said in clumsy apology.

"I know. It's not you." She absently rubbed her wrist.

“Are you hurt?” He reached over and took her hand, ignoring her startled gasp. Running his thumb over her wrist, he felt the ridge of a thick scar. One old enough that it shouldn’t be bothering her. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing doesn’t leave scars like this.”

She yanked her hand back. “I don’t want to talk about it. Actually, I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” Standing up, she stalked across the patio and out the door, her back rigid.

Aidan let her go, sensing she was at her limit. Besides, she’d left a few strands of hair behind, enough for him to do a simple charm to ensure she wouldn’t stay away for long. With a smile, he carefully wound the gossamer strands around his finger and tucked them in his pocket. Marion was a woman of mystery: beautiful, haunted, and in need of an elf just like him.

***

M
arion skirted the edge of the dance floor, careful to stay out of Raven’s line of sight. It wasn’t hard as her roommate had managed to center herself in a group of good-looking men, all vying for her attention. Leaving the club, Marion hailed a taxi and gave the driver directions to her apartment.

She absently ran her hand over her scar, noticing it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Almost as if the elf’s touch had healed it. For a brief moment, she thought about Aidan touching something besides her hand and then shook her head, scattering the images that thought raised.