I take it over to the table and sit down. The first sip is very refreshing, and a gentle hum of contentment thrums through me. It is the small things in life that matter. A clean and calm kitchen. A nice cup of tea. I can still find enjoyment in these. I guess that means there is still hope for me yet.
Another surge of magic tingles through me. I grind my teeth. Not yet. I want a few more minutes, damn it.
Dark feelings of injustice whisper at me. Why can’t I be like Blue, Ned and Jade and get to be left alone in peace? They no longer need to give their body to anyone. Why can’t I be like that?
With a scowl, I push the stupid sentiment aside. Life has never been fair. That’s a ridiculous thought. Besides, Gray is in the basement right now with a scary and intimidating man because he is in a similar predicament to me. He needs sex to feed. I need sex to live. It all boils down to the same thing. And poor little Lello is going to need a mate bond to stop him from dying.It is not just me. At all. Nearly half of us are stuck in a cycle of needing to offer our bodies up.
There really is no need for self-pity. If anything, I should be grateful. My trauma response has made me numb. Imagine if I had been overcome by terror instead? I could very easily be like Blue, unable to cope with even a friendly touch on the shoulder. I could be terrified about this and still have to do it. I am lucky. I don’t give a shit that I’m about to traipse down to a campervan at the bottom of the garden and bend over for someone.
Moreover, it is only going to get better. This is the only time it is going to be a stranger. After today I will know him. So next time will be easier. And the time after that, even more so. It is all fine. It really is.
My mind sluggishly turns as I search my memories for what I know about the man I’m about to have sex with. I remember Brodie and Red trying to involve me in the selection. I also remember telling them that I didn’t care. A cock is a cock. But they did tell me some things even though I said I wasn’t interested.
I know his name is Montgomery, and like me, he is from a noble family. He is devoted to his alchemy studies and has never had a vessel before. He is twenty-eight years old, and according to Red, cute in a nerdy way.
I can deduce by the fact he lives in a campervan and is happy to park in the bottom of a garden in order to have use of a vessel, that he is a younger son set to inherit nothing and therefore would never be eligible to marry a vessel.
The fact he knows I’ve been used by a great many men, and he is still willing to empty me, makes me a little uneasy. But I trust my friends. This mage is likely so keen to obtain extra magic to further his studies, he doesn’t care where the source comes from.
The lack of a surname is puzzling. Does he not wish to share it? Has he been disowned?
A shudder wracks my body, strong enough to make my chair scrape against the floor. That was a strong surge of magic. Damnit. I guess all my questions are about to be answered.
It is time to meet my mage.
Chapter two
Pink
That is a big campervan. It is huge. In fact, it is more of an American style RV than a standard British campervan.
The magical wards circling it are nicely done. They are aligned to prevent anyone with ill intent from stepping over them. They should let me through with no problem, since wanting to give my ass and my magic is definitely not ill intent.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. I stride through the invisible barrier and right up to the door of the RV. I knock on it sharply.
“Enter,” calls a muffled voice from inside.
I open the door and walk in. Almost immediately, there is a loud bang and a small explosion of blue smoke. Copious swearing pours out from the other side of the cloud of fumes.
“Sorry! So Sorry!”
Arms wave around and the cloud clears. I blink at what it reveals. A man a few years older than me, but with pure white hair. Hair that is sticking up wildly in all directions.
As I watch, he shoves his goggles up into his hair, an act that calms his unruly appearance only a little.
Striking blue eyes meet mine. Nice eyes. Kind eyes.
I lick my lips. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Now I am feeling uncertain and unsettled.
“Oh! You must be Pink. What an absolute delight to meet you! I’m Monty. Please, do come in and have a seat.” He looks around, jumps forward and hastily shoves a tottering pile of books off a chair before offering it to me.
Years of training in good manners, has me moving forward and graciously accepting the seat. My eyes flick around the cluttered campervan, trying to take it all in. A long table fills most of the space. A workbench, I guess. It takes up the entire length of the RV and most of the width. There is just enough space to squeeze along either side. The table, and everywhere, is jammed packed with stuff.
“Tea?” offers my host.
“Yes please,” I reply automatically because refusing would be rude and my mother taught me better than that.
Monty springs to action. He sets a large glass beaker of clear liquid over a Bunsen Burner. The beaker is triangle shaped with a long, round neck. A classic piece of chemistry equipment. Oh my gods. Is he using it as a kettle? Is this how he is boiling water?
