“I need a drink pronto,” Asher said as he clutched his head. “Still way hung over from last night.”
Thornton sighed and leaned forward to open the minibar in his limousine. “I told you to pace yourself with water. We’re not teenagers anymore.”
“What’s the difference? With the yearly rejuvenations, our bodies are as young as ever.” Asher reached out to take the scotch his friend had poured for him. “Thanks, man. Where we headed tonight?”
“Tryst Lounge,” Thornton said, fixing himself a drink as well before leaning back in his seat.
“Are you crazy?” Asher asked, choking on the liquid he was generously gulping. “That’s even more expensive than the last five places we’ve been to. I can’t afford that!”
“I can.”
Asher shook his head in amazement. “This really is the life. You have it made, Thorn.”
“Sure. Of course I do,” Thornton said, extending his glass. “To the life.”
With a grin, Asher clinked his glass against his friend’s and returned it to his mouth. “So,” he said, once it had been emptied. “What are we on the prowl for tonight? More delicious fresh fruit?”
“I’m in the mood for something exotic. Dark skin and a thick accent—maybe Spanish or Brazilian,” said Thornton.
“Amateur,” Asher said with a chuckle. “Those are easy. Hasn’t it gotten boring yet when they fall into your lap without a chase?”
“I thought the whole point of this hedonistic binge was to have a pretty young thing on my lap at all times. Or two, or three. In various positions.” When Asher laughed at this, Thornton grinned and jostled the ice cubes in his glass in a circular motion. “What pleasures are you seeking, my friend?”
“You know I have a taste for local dishes. Just a sweet, normal, completely naïve chick.” Asher smiled as he stretched out his legs on the ample seating room in the limousine. It was his innate duty as a man to take up as much room as physically possible. “I’ll feel out their energy, and I’ll find the purest soul. I’ll tell her everything she wants to hear; everything she’s ever prayed to hear a man say to her. Then I’ll rock her world hardcore.”
Thornton raised his eyebrows at this description. “So you’re looking for a keeper?”
“Nah. I just get a kick out of finding the most virtuous human girl around and corrupting her. They always fall in love. Bang her good, and she’s yours. Then you can disappear, breaking her heart and her innocence. You can feel the energy change from pure to perverted.”
Thornton shook his head. “You’re twisted, man.”
“Said the pot to the kettle!” Asher accused. “Admit it, Thorn. There are mega-kicks to be had here. You get a rush from it too! It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it?”
“It makes me feel better for a few minutes,” Thornton said. “It makes me hate myself so much that I forget how much I hate myself underneath that.”
Asher frowned. “You should talk to…”
“It looks like we’re here,” Thornton said, grateful for the timing of the limousine stopping. He slapped his knees and turned to his friend. “Ready to go be a sick fuck?”
“I learned from the best,” Asher said, watching as his friend slipped on sunglasses and ran two hands through his dead-straight blonde hair. Asher knew that there was no hope in styling the wavy black mop on top of his own head. Besides, the ladies liked it messy just as much as he did. Thornton’s perfect center-part and always immaculately-styled coiffure seemed unnecessary to Asher, but then he did not know what the grooming etiquette was for being a businessman.
When the driver opened the limo door, Thornton exited in a fluid motion. He waited for a moment for Asher to join him before he began to walk through the crowd waiting outside the club. The people parted like a sea of admiration as they began to recognize the blonde man’s confident gait, even beneath his sunglasses. Asher groaned as the excited whispers and pointing began. He could almost hear the thoughts in all of their minds: Look! It’s the rich CEO of that tech company and… some other guy! Yes, he was just some other guy. With the pressure Thornton was always under at Kalgren Enterprises, he almost preferred it that way.
Asher observed as his friend worked his magic on the hostess to allow them to bypass the stampeding hordes eagerly awaiting entrance to the club. He could not help rolling his eyes when Thornton gave his full name and rank along with a handful of hundred-dollar bills.
“Thornton Vincent Kalgren the third. Esquire.”
This somehow worked, and Asher waited until they were inside before he hit his friend in the arm and insulted him telepathically. Man, can you be any more pretentious?
“Don’t complain. It gets us where we need to be. It gets you access to a bunch of quality babes you can bone. Smile and say thank you.”
“Thank you, your royal highness, Mr. CEO, esquire, fancy pants…”
Thornton grinned as they made their way to the VIP area to order bottle service. Shut up, Ash. You and I both know that all of those titles are garbage and don’t mean anything. We’re both the sons of demigods, and underneath all of these human hierarchies, we’re equals.
Nah. You’ll always be the bigger jackass in my eyes, bro.
Thanks. Thornton was barraged by the usual throng of admirers as the men made their way over to the shadowy, more secluded area of the club. Asher received his share of attention too; generally from cougars who assumed that he must be wealthy if he was Thornton’s wingman, but also from a few timid girls who wanted to be in the CEO’s spotlight, but were too shy and inhibited to approach him directly. Asher didn’t mind being fussed over, but he politely turned away everyone who approached him as he waited for the right victim.
Just getting to their seats had been exhausting. Asher collapsed in the soft leather couch while exhaling blissfully. “It’s like they knew you were coming, Thorn. It’s like they were waiting around to attack you. Do you have people anticipating your every move?”
Thornton nodded, reaching up to pull off his sunglasses as he sat down. “Money will do that.”
“Sometimes I understand why my family went to such great lengths to live privately,” Asher remarked. “This could drive anyone insane.”
Thornton shrugged. “You get used to it. See anyone you like?”
“Nah, not yet. Let’s get drinks first.”
The men signaled a waiter to order their usual bottle service, along with a sampling of everything on the menu. While most people in clubs did not eat much, Thornton and Asher were plagued by voracious appetites due to their special heritage. The men were almost constantly eating. Although the food was ridiculously overpriced, Thornton had shrugged indifferently and ordered a normal person’s feast. For him and Asher, it would amount to little more than a light snack.
While they waited, they lounged and chatted in a combination of their voices and telepathy to conquer the loud music blaring around them. At the same time, their eyes scanned the crowd discreetly, like predatory hawks seeking out their prey. For perhaps the first time in their lifelong friendship, their gaze settled on the same woman.
“Hey, Thorn. What do you think about her?”
“Honestly? I think I saw her first. I call dibs.”
The woman in question was sitting all alone in the darkest corner. There was no question that she was breathtaking. An aura of calmness hung around her, as if no one dared approach. She wore a slender silver watch on her wrist and glanced at it furtively.
“She’s not your type—let me take a crack at this,” Asher suggested. “You said you were looking for an exotic woman. She doesn’t seem like she has an accent.”
“I changed my mind,” Thornton said, already standing up. “What about you? She doesn’t have that naïve thing going on, does she?”
“No, but I do like the feel of her energy,” Asher said, standing and moving to block his friend’s path. “It’s special. Different than any other person in this place. Sweeter, yet grittier. Like honey and granola. I want. Gimme!”
“No. She keeps checking the time. Think she’s waiting for someone?”
“Either that or she has to leave.” The two men glared at each other.
“We’d better move in fast, Ash.” Thornton extended his fist. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“No way! She looks kind of conceited, so this might be a challenge. Let’s both go talk to her and see which one of us she likes better,” suggested Asher.
“You’re just saying that so you can use my fame and fortune to your advantage,” said Thornton, but he agreed with his friend and they moved over to the woman together.
Her posture was indeed arrogant as she reclined luxuriously in her chair. She had deep indigo colored hair—so dark it was almost black, but not quite. When the club lights danced over her, the unusual color became illuminated. Her midnight tresses swirled over her shoulders and far past her bottom. Her hair would likely go down to her knees when she stood up. Was all of that natural? Both the length and the color of her hair were unreal. She was swathed in a tasteful silver dress with matching gloves and strappy heeled sandals.
She was sipping on a martini thoughtfully as the two men approached her. They moved cautiously but confidently as they zeroed in on their target.
“Good evening, miss,” Thornton began politely, and the woman’s head snapped around to glare at him. She had the annoyed expression of a woman who was often approached by men, and exhausted with the sheer volume of rejections she had to dole out. The look in her fierce eyes gave Thornton pause. There was something familiar about her.
“Hey! Have we met before?” asked Asher, who had been thinking the same. “Did we go to school together?”
The woman smiled slowly, assessing both Thornton and Asher from head to toe. “Spare me. I hope you can do better than that.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a pick-up-line,” said Asher, with a sheepish grin. “I was really asking… you just remind me of someone.”
“Oh, really? Who might that be,” she murmured, leaning back in her chair and sipping her martini. She could not have appeared less interested.
The men looked at each other in confusion. This was the first woman they had encountered in days who showed no signs of warmth or invitation. Instead she was almost dismissing both of them. Thornton frowned. He was unsure of how to process this new situation.
Asher’s eyes slowly consumed every inch of the woman’s body, digesting the curve of her breasts straining against her silver gown. He allowed his hungry gaze to travel over her toned arms and legs. The creamy skin visible through the thigh-high slit in her gown sent his imagination spinning down dusky avenues.
Thornton cleared his throat, trying to cover up his friend’s blunder innocently. “He’s probably thinking of my sister. Even though she’s blonde, like me, she has a similar facial structure to yours. She’s also very beautiful. Perhaps you've heard of her: Amara Kalgren?”
“Oh, sure,” said the woman, apathetically, “the ditzy socialite.”
“She’s actually not like that,” Asher said defensively, surprising himself. “That’s just the media’s version. She’s a brilliant scientist, a freelance inventor.”
“Whatever.” The woman slipped the rest of the martini down her throat. “It was nice meeting you boys, but I have to run.”
“Wait!’ said Asher, throwing his arms out as if he were trying to block the other team from scoring in his net. He hadn’t been blown off like this since... ever. “I’m sorry, have we done something to offend you?”
“Not really,” she said, shrugging and glancing at her watch. “You just haven’t done anything to impress me either. For starters you were too busy gawking at me to introduce yourselves properly. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not in high school.”
"Please, forgive our rudeness," began Thornton in his most suave and sensual manner. He slid his fingers around the wrist of the girl as she tried to pull away. She looked back at him in surprise, her dark eyes flickering from Thornton to Asher with something akin to alarm in them.
"My name is Thornton Kalgren," he said as he lifted her gloved hand to his lips to plant a kiss. While maintaining intense eye contact, he allowed his lips to linger there for far too long. “I’m the CEO of Kalgren Technological Enterprises.”
“So I gathered,” she said, observing his actions without enthusiasm. She looked disappointed, as though she was on the cusp of yawning.
“I’m Ash Burnson,” said his companion, taking her other hand and giving it the same gentlemanly treatment. He sent her a goofy smile to ease the tension in the atmosphere. “Also known as ‘that other guy.’ Being friends with Thorn is sometimes like a full-time job.”
Thornton and Asher glanced at each other smugly, knowing that no woman could resist this double-attack of magnetic charisma and wit. It was a finely-honed and expertly-coordinated technique from their college years.
Nice one, man. Thornton was already congratulating his friend telepathically.
We haven’t done that in a while, thought Asher wistfully. So which of us do you think she has the hots for?
Let’s see. My money’s on the first person she looks at.
The woman ripped her hands away from the men and turned her slender wrist over to glance at her watch. “How charming. Well, it was nice meeting you both, but I really need to go.”
Did she look at you or me? asked Asher in confusion.
Neither, you fool! She looked at her goddamned watch.
The woman had reached out with her silver-gloved hand to grab her small purse before darting directly between the men to leave.
“Wait!” shouted Thornton, panicking at the unbelievable rejection. He was floundering to keep his cool in the unusual circumstance. “You didn’t even tell us your name.”
“You didn't ask,” she said, attempting to slip through the crowds. Asher caught her wrist this time.
“Please,” begged Asher, attacking her with his most adorable pleading puppy dog eyes. “We might never meet again. What is your name?”
She looked at him, hesitating. She glanced back at her watch. “I don’t think…”
“Why do you need to rush away? Stay for a moment,” Thornton insisted. He moved close to her, placing the palm of his hand lightly against her lower back. It appeared to be a gentlemanly guiding touch, but what no one could see is that he sent the tiniest amount of energy into her body, warming her insides. It was one of his signature moves, guaranteed to get any woman in the mood. There was no point to having access to ancient power unless it could produce some sort of pleasure.
However, this indigo-haired beauty simply scowled and yanked his hand away from her body as though she knew exactly what he’d done. She turned her back to them, determined to leave this time, but she could not resist throwing a final glance over her bare shoulder condescendingly. Midnight blue-black eyes burned into them both like fire.
“Give it a rest, boys,” she advised with a sweet smile touching her full reddened lips. “Unfortunately, I’m too much woman for the both of you to handle.”
She drank in their shocked reactions for a moment, savoring their speechlessness before her watch began to beep and she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“What the hell was that!” asked Thornton angrily. “I used my prana trick on her!”
“You did! No wonder,” said Asher frowning. “You probably used too much and hurt her. Great job in scaring her away.”
“No, it wouldn’t have hurt her. She was strong. There was something unusual about her energy. Didn’t you feel it? She might be an athlete or a spiritual woman…”
“A spiritual woman? How many spiritual women you know with cleavage down to here?!”
“I can’t believe we didn’t even get her fucking name!” complained Thornton. “I’m handsome—all the magazines say so. I look years younger than I am thanks to magick. I have shitloads of money. How could she just walk away from this?”
“You forgot the endless vanity and snobbery,” Asher added. “No, she obviously wants a more down-to-earth fella like me. She seemed like a woman with morals.”
“Morals,” Thornton muttered as if in agony. “Who has those anymore?”
Asher stared after the woman’s path of retreat. “She was hands-down the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen,” he declared earnestly.
“I agree. Damn, you and I never have the same taste in women. But that body! That hair! Those eyes!” Thornton cleared his throat as he noticed that their bottles and food were being delivered to their booth. “I just hope you know that eventually she’ll choose me.”
“If she’s into bigheaded, egotistical narcissists, she definitely will,” Asher said with a smile. “If she’s a nice girl looking for a nice guy—she’s going to be underneath me, moaning my name before you can say ‘Hallelujah!’”
* * *
Meanwhile, in a dark alley a few blocks away, the indigo-haired woman was leaning against a brick wall and laughing hysterically. Part of her was concerned about ruining the designer silver dress, so she tried to contain herself. Another part could care less, and let the hilarious mania take control of her body.
“Too much woman for the both of you to handle!” she said, mimicking herself and throwing her gloved arms up in the air. “Too much woman for the both of you to handle!”
I'm too great, too amazing, too devious, she thought in delight. Definitely far too much to handle! Too much power and brains packed into one gorgeous body! I’m better than I ever was. Her watch started beeping extremely loudly and she realized that she had to get away from the area. She opened her silver purse and pulled out a key as she lifted her skirts and began running through the alley. Finally, she came upon a black vehicle with the windows tinted so dark that it was impossible to see inside. The girl quickly slid into the driver’s seat. Instead of having a normal console in the center separating the driver and passenger seat, the car had a single bench.
She looked at her watch again. “One minute.”
She began to drive, intending to get as far as possible from her current location. When the minute was nearly complete, her watch began beeping faster and faster. She pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park before leaning back and waiting.
It happened then. With a flash of light, her body separated. Two girls sat in the vehicle where there had only been one.
“Ow! I hate it when that happens,” said the one who had been flung against the passenger door. She moved her hands up to touch her face, running her fingers through her blonde hair.
“No kidding,” said the dark-haired one who had put the car back in gear and was already pressing her silver strappy high heel down to accelerate the vehicle. Once the car was moving, the driver sighed. She looked down at herself, using one hand to feel her legs and body. “The more often we join together, the less complete I feel when we separate.”
“I know. It’s nice to be someone else… while still being myself. Para is me too.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Of course you do.”
The two girls laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in their voices.
“Should we have told them our name?” Amara asked. “Is it safe to call ourselves Para?”
“I don’t think so,” Pax responded. “They might figure out it’s us. I don’t know if they have heard of this specific incantation—but even if they haven’t, their parents might put it together. We have to find a pseudonym. How about Unity? Or Harmony?”
“Ugh,” said Amara with disgust. “Does Para look like a Harmony?”
“No. She looks… otherworldly. There’s more goddess in her than in either of us combined. It’s like the spell takes the most powerful aspects of each of us and amplifies it exponentially. When I’m Para I feel like I can do anything! She deserves a legendary alias. Why don’t we let her decide?”
“That sounds good. I can’t believe they didn’t recognize us!” Amara said with a happy sigh. “Jeez, Thorn is such a dweeb! ‘You look like my sister, except she’s blonde, and I’m going to hit on you anyway!’” She had comically lowered her voice to imitate her brother.
Pax tried to laugh at her friend’s mimicry, but she could only manage a pained smile. “That’s my Thorn. He’ll chase after anything that moves.”
“I’m sorry,” Amara said, “but it works in our favor this time. Phase one of this crazy plan has been initiated. Do you think this will all work out?”
“It’s too soon to tell. I guess we have to make every thirty minutes count.”