“It’s nice to meet you, Tamara and Rita,” Talia says, her voice level but her fingers digging incrementally into my palm. She’s making a show of ignoring the leashes and the outfits, but I could sense the internal recoil—she’d seen a lot of things, but ostentatious power plays and sex-cult pageantry weren’t her native language. She’s already adapting, mapping out the unfamiliar territory, the way she always does because she’s actually a predator, unlike Tamara.
Rita’s face splits into a wide, glittering smile. “We’ve heard all about you,” she said to Talia. “Tamara says you’re the one who keeps Rafe from doing anything too… risky.” There’s a purposeful implication there, and I know immediately that yet another person in this room had an eye on our family as a potential rival or prize.
This is why my primary was so eager to pull away from the crowds—we barely know Rita and her family, yet she thought we were an achievable goal.
“Rita,” Tamara said, half-chiding, half-proud, “don’t scare the poor woman. She’s new to the expanded community.” The way she emphasized ‘community’ makes it clear she means not only the physical space but the web of relationships, hierarchies, and secret econometrics that undergird every gathering.
I step in to take back some control. “We’re all new until the first time something explodes,” I joke, and there’s just enough edge in my voice to remind everyone that my primary and I had a history of surviving detonations—social, literal, emotional—and coming out of them better than we went in. “Anyway, you ladies and gentlemen should help yourselves to whatever food strikes your fancy. There’s a bar set up near the deep end, and the marked magic rooms are open for business, unless the door says otherwise. You know the drill—respect our boundaries and those of the other attendees or be banished.”
Tamara’s laugh is harsh. “Oh, cowboy, you know us too well. Maybe one day we’ll turn the tables and host you at our place for once.” She lets her gaze linger on Talia, sizing her up before she moves off. The trailing tendrils of her perfume and pheromones seem to linger in the air, and I wave my hand to dispel them.
For a moment, Talia stands in the wake of their passage, the low thrum of the party rising around us. Splashes of water, shouts, the radiating heat of so many bodies crowded together surround us as I wait for her to speak again. I feel the pulse of her muted fury at being caught off-balance even for a minute. She’s not, nor has she ever been, the ‘hostess with the mostest’ type, and I sense her resentment at being forced into the role. More than that, I sense a deep, gnawing unease at what the rest of the night might bring. The sheer density of intrigue is enough to make anyone’s head spin, and even I feel the beginnings of a migraine blooming at the base of my skull.
I tried to lighten the mood. “If you’d asked me what my life would look like outside of The Company, I never would have said ‘suburban key party with droids and horny humans for neighbors.’ But here we are.” I keep my voice low, the joke for her ears only as I grin a bit.
She gives me a tight smile. “You’re braver than I am,” she said. “Most days I feel like I’m barely keeping up.” She scanned the crowd again, eyes landing on twins—identical, down to the exact shade of lipstick and the crescent-shaped scar on their chins—arguing in high, whiplash voices over which sex toys are more likely to survive an accidental dunking.
“Did you know these people would come in mini-alliances?” She asks suddenly, the question sharp enough to draw blood.
I shake my head. “I knew the Houses were a thing, but I didn’t know how far they’ve all taken it.” I gesture at the crowd, the way it separated neatly into clusters and cliques and rival factions, each staking their claim with subtle territory markers. “The cat and I have been busy since your bird showed up, and we haven’t been interacting as much. It’s obviously become a bigger problem than we knew.”
A flicker of amusement cuts through her skepticism. “They’re like little kingdoms,” she said, “and you’re the only one who didn’t get the memo.” She squeezes my hand as if to reassure herself that some things are unchanged. “Is it going to make life worse for Deli?”
“Probably,” I admit, looking at the way she squares her shoulders when I reply. “You want to leave?” I asked her, voice gentle. “We can hide somewhere instead of playing host. Say the word and I’ll force it on one of my family members, no matter how rude it is.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “I’d rather know what we’re up against. Besides,” she adds, “I want to see how long it takes for someone to force me to cut them.”
I laugh, and then dip my head to kiss her lightly. “Tamara won’t be the worst one, you know.”
Hissing a bit, she frowns. “That one, we should all watch out for. She’s looking for a way to the top, and it doesn’t matter who she goes through to get there. The tag-along is an accessory to her. Hell, the entire family is.”
“Amen to that,” I mutter. “She drags them along like dogs in purses.”
“Why does every single family here live in a named house like in a sci-fi novel and have a brood of droids like they’re building an army?” Talia says as she looks around. “That’s how this bullshit is happening, you know.”
“Because my family is extensive, and we had a house name given to our house, so now everyone else has to do it, too.”
Rolling her eyes, she hisses again and pulls out Baby, spinning the blade. “Perhaps I see why Storm was so exhausted when she came to find Taurus. It has to be draining to watch these people all the time, making sure no one steps on anyone else’s toes but everyone feels like they belong and are having a good life.”
“It’s exhausting watching her. She’s got some kind of—I don’t know—superpower for that shit. At least, she did until the shit with the exes. Now, she struggles a little.”
Her arms wrap around my waist, and she grins a little. “She wants to run off with the big bird and steal things from museums and get left alone.”
I roll my eyes and kiss her forehead. “Something like that, though I think she wouldn’t mind having us along.”
“You think?” Her cheeks flush, and I’m reminded for a moment that as much as my wife exudes confidence and mystique to others, the cat and I get to see a very different side of her.
“I do love.” I peck her cheek, turning when I see another group coming. I smile, happy to see this one.
The tiny dark-haired Canadian and her quirky court jester-like mate come up, looking around the room with smirks on their faces. They stop for a moment and whisper something, then head over.
“Oi, Monet, this is a wild scene,” Mercury says, brows bobbing.
Chuckling, I nod. “It is at that. No bad news yet, but the clouds haven’t hit the seaboard yet.”
Talia blinks owlishly, looking at the droid and me, then at his mate. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
“I do. I’m Lily, and this is Mercury. That is how he thinks.” The co-mayor of this little burg is an unassuming lady, and she sticks her hand out to shake.
