Page 12 of Feeding Beauty (The Lost Girls #5)

How Big Does He Get?

AURORA

T he next two weeks are a blur. A messy, chaotic, blur of a learning curve.

Most of my time is spent working and learning at Poison Apple, but there are just as many nights in, sprawled on Ariel and Snow’s couch watching Hex Island. The reality show disaster features a bunch of level two mages crammed into a beachside mansion for a million-dollar prize.

The catch? Every time they use their powers, they lose money. Which of course they do. Constantly. Because they’re horny narcissists who can’t stop flexing their magic to seduce each other. It’s like watching magical Darwinism, and I’m beyond addicted.

Snow and Ariel cheer me on at work, insisting I’ll get better behind the bar, but there are no empty platitudes. They’re honest. Brutally so. Snow once called me a “hot mess with excellent tits and a tragic pour.”

She’s not wrong.

Despite Rap’s hard exterior, she never comes down on me for my mistakes. She’s sharp and direct with her feedback, but never cruel. And she always steps in to pick up the slack when I’ve created a disaster.

When I get caught in a spiral trying to apologize for it, she tells me not to bother. It’s a waste of time. She says to just keep going and I’ll get it.

Rap makes it so simple. No emotional recrimination required.

I don’t love failing, or mixing up disgusting drinks, or dropping bottles that explode on impact, or getting so overstimulated by lights and music and people yelling drink orders that words stop making sense. And the girls notice.

They see it on my face before I fully break, and they send me to the back to take a breath in the breakroom with bubblegum-pink lockers and a vending machine that always eats your coins.

I’m not used to this kind of care.

I’ve never had real girlfriends before.

They continue to tease me about Talon, about how he looks at me like he’s two seconds from eating me alive (like one of those lobster rolls he’s now obsessed with) or committing murder in my honor.

If they only knew...

I still keep the truth buried. What Talon really is to me. Who I was at home. I don’t want to scare them. But also, it’s not me anymore. That version of Aurora stayed behind in the Realm of Roses.

Here, I’m one of the Lost Girls. One of the reasons people show up to Poison Apple. The new addition. A little mystery with her own drink special and piercings. The pedestal I’m on isn’t about decorum or being a marble statue. I work the crowd, and we feed each other with energy and excitement.

With Ariel and Snow, I’m just…a girl. Their girl.

Snow often rests her head on my shoulder because she rarely sleeps but is always tired. Ariel lets me help her push or maneuver her chair on the rare occasion she needs the help.

We gossip. We paint our nails. We argue about Hex Island like it’s life or death.

It’s messy, and sweet, and stupid, and everything I’ve always wanted. They’re the kind of moments I’ve spent my whole life aching for, and now that I have them, I’m scared of how much they matter.

“So are Talon’s abs just painted over cobblestones he glued to his stomach?” Snow asks while unwrapping another Magic Morsel snack pack. She pops the tiny chocolate cake into her mouth whole.

It’s three AM and we are hunkered down in Snow and Ariel’s apartment, decompressing from the wild frenetic night of work. Talon opts to decompress alone. Either he’s gone to stretch his wings around the city, or he’s just avoiding conversation. Likely both.

Snow and Ariel's apartment smells like toasted sugar and incense, with old wood floors that creak if you shift too hard. One lamp’s missing its shade, and the TV’s propped up on an uneven stack of books and board games. Snow is poised on the half-broken reading chair across from me.

Despite the decent money we make, a lot of that goes to clothes, tattoos, and well...rent. Downtown Boston ain’t cheap, as Snow puts it.

“I mean, if his skin burns, why doesn’t he wear a shirt?” Ariel chimes in, snapping a picture of Snow. Snow kindly obliges by opening her mouth so she can get a picture of the half-masticated sweet stuck to her teeth and tongue.

Half-grossed out, half-amused, I pick up one of the Magic Morsel boxes with the picture of the kindly grandma on the box.

I’ve never seen Grandma’s House products back in the Realm of Roses, but here her lifestyle brand is everywhere.

The couch pillows are hers. The curtains.

The throw blanket tangled around Snow’s legs.

But the Magic Morsels are definitely the bestsellers.

Because they can give non-magical beings a buzz of power that’s light and fizzy, like soda in your stomach. You get maybe five to fifteen minutes of magic, depending on the flavor.

Evidenced by Snow now levitating her spoon from the pint of ice cream, shakily directing it to her mouth.

“Talon runs hot, so clothes are pretty uncomfortable,” I explain. “The fae leathers are really protection for others, but he needs the ventilation.”

“Lucky us then, huh?” Ariel says, shooting a wink at me.

Snow’s spoon flops midair and splats ice cream onto the floor. She curses. “I wish I had real powers. Like Red or Goldie.”

I’ve heard about the previous Lost Girls. Apparently, Red’s grandma is the same little old lady on the box of our snacks and slipped the previous Lost Girls some cookies that turned them from human to level five mages.

“What about Cinder?” Ariel asks.

“Blood magic?” Snow wrinkles her nose. “I mean, if she hadn’t been so involved with vampires, she might not even have known she had blood magic, and it doesn’t seem very useful.”

“You want to be like Goldie?” Ariel shudders as she puts her camera aside. “Have the attention of every single person whether you want it or not? Have people so obsessed they propose to you on the spot? No, thank you.”

I stiffen, fear snaking through me. That sounds a little too much like my own power, except I’m not a mage. My natural fae ability is cursed and twisted into a Succubus.

In another life, I could have fed off Snow’s hyper energy, or Ariel’s anxiety. They’d feel relaxed, I’d be full, and we all could be hunky dory.

“Is Goldie a...Succubus?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. My throat goes dry.

“No way,” Snow says, busting out laughing. “Everyone knows people witch-hunted Succubae and Incubi and killed them all off by the end of The Great Culling. Goldie would probably be strung up if that’s what she became.”

My stomach twists like a wet rag drenched with fear and shame.

The thought of people stringing me up and setting me on fire, like they did in The Great Culling, flashes in my mind with vivid violence. It seemed like so long ago, but the attempted purge of fae and mage presence in the Common World was less than a hundred years ago.

I focus hard on the wrapper in my hands, but my fingers won’t cooperate. Ariel notices, rolls her chair closer, and gently takes it from me. She peels it open, then lifts out of her chair to settle in beside me on the couch.

“Goldie is a level five mage,” Snow explains, “but her power definitely has Siren-like qualities.”

“I thought Sirens were fae,” I say. “Or…are they Mermaids? Are Sirens and Mermaids the same?”

“They are not, ” Ariel says, more sharply than I expect.

Snow and I blink at her. As if realizing she came off a bit harsh, Ariel’s shoulders slump as her pale cheeks turn bright pink. “I mean, Sirens are fae who want to lure sailors to their death, and Mermaids aren’t murderous Harpies.”

“Calm down there, tiger.” Snow soothes. “No murderous Harpies here.”

I place my uneaten morsel on the coffee table, growing increasingly queasy from the conversation.

Part of me thought I might tell them what I am. A secret part that hoped I’d be accepted. That part sinks into the pit of my stomach.

Who am I kidding? I’m a killer. Who would ever want to be friends with a Succubus?

Maybe I should go back to my apartment. With my murderous magic and all...

“We need to get back to the more important question,” Snow says, turning her attention to me before I can excuse myself. “Why in the hell you aren’t banging hot boy.”

Ariel perks up at that. “Yeah, why haven’t we talked about this before?”

Snow shoots her a dark look. “Because she dodged the question the first time, and you told me not to ambush her until after she’d gotten more used to our weirdness.”

“Oh, right,” Ariel nods before looking at me.

They’re both looking at me, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“He’s...and I…” I stammer. Sweat breaks out on my brow, and I feel as though I’m under a bright, hot spotlight. “We can’t touch. He’s a Dragon.”

Snow adjusts herself so she is sitting on her knees now, clutching a pillow to her chest with barely restrained excitement. “Have you seen him turn into a Dragon? How big does he get?”

I shake my head. “I mean he’s a Dragon with scales and wings, but he can’t fully transform into Dragon form. That’s something only the ancient ones could do.”

“Oh. Have you seen his wings?” Ariel jumps on the question train.

“Um, yes,” I say. “His back ones anyway.”

They both tilt their heads in confusion.

“Does he have wings somewhere else ?” Snow asks. Her eyes turn round with a curiosity that borders on hunger.

It’s only then I realize how little they know about Dragon anatomy.

“Oh no, just on their backs,” I rush to say. Talon would kill me if I told Snow where the extra set was. He would get no rest from the questions she’d hurl at him.

In fact, I doubt he even knows that I'm aware of the extra set. But being cooped up all day every day, I read a lot and found everything I could on Dragons after I became his charge.

“I don’t know how he’s held back this long,” Snow says. “Hot boy is always looking like he’ll eat you up like one of those nasty lobster rolls he’s always chowing down on.”

“Uh...” I can’t tell if she was trying to compliment me or not.

“Listen, I know you can’t touch, but why are you guys letting that stop you?” Snow asks.

I blink. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, fae leather doesn’t burn,” she goes on.

“Otherwise, the boy would constantly be nude. I mean most of the fabrics even in the Common World are sourced by the fae nowadays. So why doesn't he slap on a pair of fae leather gloves and finger diddle you? Or you guys could get body suits? You could still rub all up in each other’s business. Get a little creative and you two could be having lots of nasty fun.” Snow grins wickedly.

My mouth falls open, then clicks closed.

“I guess...I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” I feel dumb. Truly and utterly dumb. Like someone pointed out an obvious plot hole in my favorite book. “Where we come from...we weren’t allowed...I mean...” I stumble all over my words, over what to tell them. Over what not to tell them.

“He’s my protector, and it’d be...wrong.” It just pops out.

“Wrong?” Ariel echoes with evident disbelief. “I mean...” She clears her throat as if dealing with something delicate. “It seems he’s not the only one with feelings.”

“Maybe we should set you up with someone, then you can bang it out with them and forget about hot boy,” Snow cheerfully adds.

I try to laugh. It comes out strained. “Sure, we’ve known each other a long time.

I mean, I ran away from home and the clod had the nerve to follow me, and it’s totally annoying, and he thinks I made a huge mistake coming here.

I mean, he’s always been there for me, even on the worst days of my life.

Just letting me be whatever I need to be.

And yeah, he’s basically made of honor and grit.

” My words start to tumble, faster, looser.

“He checks every room before I walk into it. He knows how I take my coffee. He treats me like I'm the only one in the world who matters, and never makes me feel shitty about who I am. But he also holds me accountable for my behavior when no one else will, which is infuriating because by doing that he makes me a better person. And even though I’m completely and totally in love with him, I can’t say it.

It’s just this scream I have to swallow down all day, every day.

Because saying it won’t change anything.

Because with just a look, he already knows. He always knows.”

When I stop talking, my chest heaves from the outburst.

Both girls stare at me in stunned silence.

I feel the slow, dawning horror of what I’ve just let out into the air. It’s more than I’ve ever dared say before. The vulnerability is as raw as though I sliced through my stomach and let my guts fall out in front of them.

It’s a wonder I didn’t barrel on and jabber about how I’ve had to sleep with basically anyone but Talon since it's how I've survived. Oh yeah, and I’ve had to leave a trail of bodies behind as a secret Succubus princess.

Thank the fucking fae lords I didn’t.

“Okay,” Snow says slowly. “I’m thinking we don't set you up with someone else.”

“Oh sweetie,” Ariel says, rubbing my arm.

“It’s fine,” I say, trying to shrug it off even as my throat clogs up. My eyes sting, and my vision turns blurry. “I mean this is how it’s always been. It’s how it’s always going to be.” I quickly swipe at the stupid tears rolling down my cheeks.

Ariel puts her arms around me, before a second set joins in.

“Ugh,” Snow says against the top of my head. “That sucks so bad.”

I nod, sniffling. “It really does.”

Despite all the raw, broken parts of me that long for Talon, I sink into the love and compassion of my friends. Real friends. I choke back another sob, thinking it’s more than I deserve.