“Well, that went well,” Shamira muttered as the crowd continued to yell and scream at each other at the tops of their lungs. Five minutes ago, a magically broadcast meeting arranged by the Tribunal, a council of magical creatures, had just announced to the mystical community that they would indeed be implementing a plan to make their presence known to the human world. Shamira thought things were going well, based primarily on the fact that no one had actually killed anyone else yet. Yet.
Every submissive in Shane’s house had been paired up with a dominant for the meeting, and they were all in their best BDSM uniforms. Shamira had been paired with Sebastian and they both looked quite fetching. Sebastian wore white leather breeches and a matching vest, both of which showed off his drool-worthy underwear-model’s body.
Much to her surprise, Shamira was getting a lot of attention as well. She was wearing a leather thong underneath a black spandex, fishnet body stocking. She also wore a spandex mask that completely covered her face except for her mouth. The area over the eyes was thin enough that she could see out but no one could see in.
Shane had explained that he didn’t want Lacroix, his rival from Savannah, to see her face since she was actively investigating him now. His acquisition of Sebastian’s services were well known enough that there was no point in trying to disguise him. For one of the few times in recent days, Shamira and Shane had been in agreement.
Shamira had been ogled and propositioned constantly since guests started arriving. She had kept her head bowed and let Sebastian deal with them. He pawed her frequently and publicly, but would no allow anyone else to touch her. She didn’t mind, which surprised her. It helped that Sebastian made her feel sexy when he showed her off, pointing out the chiseled body she had worked so hard on when she was alive.
Still, Shamira would rather have been paired with Clara, but her lover as well as Lillian and the faerie Coramen were busy in the casting room keeping the wards up, the far-speak spell going, and generally keeping an eye on things.
“Keep quiet, my pet,” Sebastian muttered, his hand resting on her ass and then squeezing. “I’d hate to have to punish you later.”
“You’re already planning on punishing me later, Master Sebastian. You laid claim to me.”
He squeezed her ass harder. “Yes, I did.” He cocked his head. “I’m going to make it so that you’re too tired to do anything with Clara.”
Shamira grinned a little. They both knew that was a hollow threat. Since she and Clara had made up several days earlier after a tense spell, there wasn’t anything that kept them from sneaking in some sex whenever possible. Sometimes Shamira was on her knees in bondage, sometimes it was much more akin to “making love,” but it was always fabulous. “Of course you will.”
Sebastian smirked. Hell, he’d been invited to play with them a time or two, but nothing short of a crowbar wielded by a giant was going to pry those women apart unless they wanted to. He glanced over and saw Shane debating the proposed policy with a number of other regional leaders.
Renata was at his side as his submissive, and the Representative stood on his side of the issue. Shane and Sebastian locked gazes, but Shamira looked away. She and Shane were still not on the best of terms. Shane looked disappointed, but then returned to the debate.
Worldwide, there was great division on this issue. A vocal and still sizable minority vowed that they would never accept the edict, another group thought it was a good idea but that it was too soon, and yet another that wanted to do it today. Luckily, the Tribunal stepped down hard on that last option.
“Well, you folks certainly have riled up the bee hive, haven’t ya?” Clyde Pritchard said as he moseyed over.
“So where do you stand, Lord Pritchard?” Sebastian asked.
Clyde frowned and then looked straight at Shamira. “Okay, why didn’t someone tell him I hate that whole ‘Lord” crap. It’s Clyde. Just Clyde. And what’s with the mask?”
Sebastian leaned in. “Lord Stapleton though it wise that certain attendees not see my companion’s face at this time. I would request that you keep your knowledge of her identity to yourself, as a favor to this house.”
Clyde shrugged his massive shoulders. “I understand. ‘Course, I couldn’t mistake her smell for anyone else’s,” he said with a grin. “You’re looking lovely, young lady.” When Clyde spoke to her, he looked straight into her eyes, not checking out her body once. Shamira wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or thankful. It wasn’t as if Clyde was hard to look at himself. Clyde looked back to Sebastian. “I’m not sure the protocol on this, but I’d like to speak to her for a moment. Alone. Trust me, I ain’t going to try anything funny.”
Sebastian saw no harm in it, and Clyde Pritchard would be a good man to stay in the good graces of. His territory was relatively small, but it was an important refuge for weres that needed to get out and stretch their legs from time to time. Hell, the only were that Sebastian was probably more scared of was Travis McNeil, the werebear in charge of security at Prometheus. At least he worked for Shane.
Clyde’s voice carried weight in the were community. Sebastian nodded. “Follow me.” He led the threesome out to the edge of the gathering area. “Just try and keep it brief so we can go back and keep an eye on things.” Sebastian turned and engaged a young female vampire from Chattanooga in a conversation laced with innuendo.
“Incorrigible,” Shamira muttered through a smirk. Sebastian didn’t have an off-switch for his libido. “So what’s up, Clyde?” She liked Clyde Pritchard . . . he was kind of like that redneck uncle who let you ride the tractor, pet the hound dog on the porch, and eat way too much ice-cream. He could also rip a man in half when the mood struck him.
For the first time since they’d first met, Clyde actually looked nervous. He rubbed the back of his head, then stroked his beard for a second as he struggled for the right words. “Listen, this probably ain’t the best place –”
“What? C’mon, spit it out,” Shamira replied.
“Well, it’s just so recent, and I wasn’t plannin’ on askin’ anytime soon. You know, not until after the dust settles and everything, but just for future reference –” He paused. Damn he looked nervous.
“Okay Clyde, you’re scaring me. And confusing me.”
He took a deep breath and then, “Once the divorce is settled and all, I was hoping to court your sister.”
Shamira’s jaw almost fell off her face. “Excuse me?”
“I know, it’s too soon and all now, but . . . but your sister is a fine woman. Ain’t many around with that kind of heart and spirit, and she ain’t exactly hard to look at –” He stopped as Shamira stepped forward and scowled. “Diplomatic immunity!” he practically squeaked. The sound coming out of such a rugged man was almost comical.
“But . . . but –” Shamira stammered.
“Don’t give me no guff about me bein’ a werewolf and all. You’re a vamp after all. And I wouldn’t push myself. I know what ‘no’ means and I respect it.”
“But my sister?!” Shamira hissed. “You? But aren’t you already . . . mated?”
Clyde shook his head. “I lost my wife five years ago to a drunk driver. Took me a while to get over it, and I figured the kids didn’t need a new mom so much as a good dad, so that’s what I tried to be. But it can get a might lonely,” he said. “Your sister knows what I am and don’t seem bothered by it at all.”
Shamira was actually stunned, but mostly because she actually kind of liked the match. Clyde had a sense of honor that the asshole-soon-to-be-ex of her sister couldn’t comprehend. “I don’t want her in danger,” was the only thing she could think to say.
“Real world ain’t perfectly safe,” Clyde said respectfully, “but I can promise that anyone who might mean her harm will have to go through me.”