13. Dance Card Waiting List
I had thought we were only heading to the apartment to drop off our things and turn around. I was sorely mistaken. It turned out that Sam and Beth had makeup and hair to do up. I just accepted it when Sam informed me, although I didn't really understand -- Why bother putting a lot of time and effort into it when we were going to a place that used its lack of lighting as a draw? Who would even see their endeavors? I didn't ask them to explain or challenge them on it. It was what they wanted to do and I wanted them to feel comfortable with whatever was going to happen tonight.
So, I was left with some time alone. I didn't really have anything I needed to do. In lieu of anything necessary or otherwise productive, I took a shower and fussed with the clothes still in my closet. There were lots of the original outfits that would no longer fit me. I only now realized that required someone from Aisling's office to have gotten my sizes. Thinking about how they had acquired them was slightly concerning, but ultimately, it was for my benefit. I let those concerns fade away to allow the worries about meeting Zoey to take over.
After cleaning my room of the clothes I had never worn that nonetheless wouldn't fit me anymore, I crashed onto the couch in the living room. I was out of obvious mindless tasks to occupy myself with. Delving into my concerns about how to develop my newfound existence into something sustainable wasn't particularly enjoyable, but it was something I needed to do.
I absolutely needed to pump the breaks on becoming intimately involved with multiple partners. Antonin could espouse his knowledge of the past and all the other magically inclined individuals could confirm it, but I wasn't comfortable with the process, historical precedent be damned. At the very least, I wouldn't survive starting all of these relationships simultaneously. Some part of me was permanently binding the girls I was with to me. I had to be more selective, or at least more cautious, moving forward, just to stay sane.
Several parts of me were actually happy Zoey was overly skeptical of what I told her. My dragon assured me that her strength of character -- her ability to look exactly what she desperately wanted in the face and say, "I think this might be misleading me; Let me examine it closely before proceeding" -- would be incredibly useful as a member of our household. I was more content that her indecision and caution gave me some breathing room. It allowed me time to get to know her as a person instead of just my friend's academically challenged younger sister. It also provided an opportunity to get used to the idea of having two girlfriends and to come to terms with the insanity that having two parallel relationships would be, before adding a third into the mix.
Speaking of two girlfriends, my two lovelies joined me in the living room, having completed their makeup and hair. They looked absolutely stunning, decked out in their complimentary red and black outfits. While lost in my own thoughts on the couch, I had gotten the impression that most of the time they had spent was actually invested in their relationship, which was a very reassuring development. Sam had spent the last hour going through what she understood of the basics of makeup, which all went over my head, but was incredibly well received by Beth. Lacking a parental figure to instruct her or resources to experiment herself, Beth had avoided most makeup by necessity. Now, after working with Sam and the insane development from the magic, she looked like a different person. Still young and spunky, energetic and vivacious, but no longer carrying the wear of life if you looked for it. Just walking to me across the room, she looked like an actress at a gala, strutting confidently towards her target.
"Zoey just texted me. Said we should meet them in half an hour or so outside one of the girls' apartments and that we'd walk into the club together. One of them knows the doorman, I guess, so we should get in easily."
I scoffed, "I dare say any group that has a single guy accompanying Sam, you, and Zoey wouldn't ever have trouble getting into a bar, no matter how exclusive. Did you get an address?"
Beth nodded, "Yup, and we should get going. It is Friday night and it's not like we really know the traffic here."
A cursory glance at the address and a navigation app highlighted a subway exit one block from where we were told to meet Zoey and her friends. I was prepared for the transit interchanges to be full of both tired workers heading home to decompress after their week of work and overly enthusiastic night owls just waking up to take over the town for the weekend. What I wasn't prepared for were the blatant looks of jealousy and envy every other male gave me, and the confused evaluation every woman put me through. Beth and Sam were starting the night off with their guards up, as far as I could tell through our connections, and spent the time on the subway being incredibly tactile with me. I don't think there was a single moment when I wasn't in contact with one of them. Having two stunning women practically draping themselves all over you, their eyes never wandering and their attentiveness ensuring yours never left them, garnered a reasonable amount of attention from our fellow passengers.
Carefully, we managed to cross the town and return to the streets without incident, and Sam guided us with her phone to an unremarkable apartment block. I was still uncomfortable walking down the sidewalks with a woman on each arm, but that was how they decided we would be doing things. With only a couple double takes later, we found ourselves on the fifth floor, Sam knocking firmly on an unadorned metal door while bass-thumping music reverberated on the other side. After a second, more earnest attempt to get the inhabitant's attention, the door opened.
In addition to the cacophony of a half-dozen people haphazardly competing for airspace on top of obnoxiously loud music for an apartment environment, we were greeted by Mallory and another girl, both wearing relatively casual jeans and t-shirts. Surprisingly, despite the outfit, Mallory didn't seem quite as plain as she had before. I wondered if that was some enchantment or magical concealment she had used to force herself to fade into the background and out of my perceptions or if some aspect of her inner bat was being emphasized or suppressed.
"Hi, James! And you must be Beth and Sam! It's nice to meet you. Come in, come in."
Mallory ushered us inside and closed the door behind us while the other woman introduced herself.
"Hi, I'm Sophie -- Mallory's girlfriend. Welcome to my apartment. It's, uh, kind of a warzone while everyone gets ready. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?"
Mallory gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and an apologetic smile before darting off to one of the back rooms. Sophie awkwardly led us into her kitchen and out of the category five storm of pregaming that was happening in the living room while the three of us declined the socially obligatory offering of something to drink.
Given that this was the first time we had ever met her, and the usual icebreakers hadn't been very effective on our end, I was concerned about what a mess of a first impression we were making. I couldn't exactly answer, 'What do you do for a living?' or 'So, what class of magic being are you?' or 'Why did Beth trip my MagiSense home defense silent alarm?' I was already flummoxed about meeting Mallory's girlfriend so abruptly. Mallory's blatant anticipation of more happy accidents alongside my shapeshifting training had not prepared me for being introduced to her girlfriend, and definitely not prepared for being introduced and then left alone with.
I was relieved when it turned out, in a case of small world syndrome, that Sophie had the same position as Sam did, working as a junior acclimatization case worker. She had actually spent an afternoon this week helping Cynthia with some of her paperwork, converting forms from the previous district for use in Philly. The two women fell into a rhythm of talking about their jobs and how it was to work with Sam's mother, occasionally introducing us to someone who passed through the kitchen.
The first woman who came to check on Sophie and us genuinely scared me. Her beautiful features and youthful appearance obscured the intensity with which she carried herself. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, allowing her severe gaze to carefully measure all three of us in the kitchen. She was introduced as Chelsea, and I found myself feeling as though she was tossing over whether she wanted to fuck me or have a magical duel, or perhaps, the latter and then the former only if I measured up. I was sure she would kick my ass. Either way, I was evaluated like I was a challenge on a checklist -- something for her to size up, complete, cross off and move on from. Chelsea carried herself with a level of presence that suggested she had been someone before, not precisely rubbing my nose in the fact but also not trying to hide it. A leader by necessity, not by choice, content now to live quietly and out of the spotlight until the next apocalypse came calling. She made no attempts to hide that she was determining whether or not I was that apocalypse.
The completely opposite second woman who came to talk with Sophie was some kind of elf. I wasn't sure if it was polite to ask, so I erred on the side of caution and didn't. She had deep azure skin and a full head of wavy, stark white hair. Her voice was like liquid honey, and she moved with a level of grace I bet many professional dancers would've envied. She cordially introduced herself as Isabella and cheerfully discussed assisting Zoey and Mallory with information security and technological integration. I was astonished when I noticed that, under her casual clothes and not particularly well hidden, she was wearing a thin collar choker. It was the complete antithesis of how she presented herself otherwise, but I didn't feel comfortable asking any questions, holding my tongue as she glode back to the common room.
Two other girls came in as Isabella departed, introducing themselves as Eva and Becca. Becca presented like a hard-nosed, no-nonsense professional military background type, although I wasn't entirely sure about what she said through her Scottish brogue. It was confusing to me why she was consorting with the skittish, sheepishly affectionate, hanging on her every word Eva until it was revealed that they were both werefelines. Becca shared that she was a wereleopardus and that, despite the false cognate nature of the name, she was related to ocelots, not leopards. Leopards were actually of the panthera family, while the colloquially used word panther referred to either leopards or jaguars with specific recessive genes that made their skin and fur black.
