* * *
Thirty minutes later, I still sat there, watching her.
The Were-cheetah had left with the blonde.
Lanore finished spreading vanilla oil onto her skin and put on a lilac gown. I’d actually closed my eyes most of the time, already feeling like a pervert for watching her through the window and invading her privacy. The least I could do was not ogle her while she walked around naked.
I pulled out my phone and dialed her phone number.
She raced out of the bedroom to a phone that was on the wall. Her eyes scanned the screen as she sighed and picked up the phone. “I’m sorry for running out like that, Zulu.”
“I want to talk about you and me later.”
She paused for a minute, and I could see her biting the nail on her index finger. “Okay, but no more kissing.”
I growled over the phone.
“You keep growling like that, and I’ll hang up,” she said.
“I’ll give you some time to yourself, a few weeks, and then I’m coming for you,” I said in a deep voice.
“Coming for me?” She covered her face and giggled. “You know you’re absolutely insane.”
“You have no idea,” I muttered as I gazed at her through the window.
“I’m not promising you that we’ll start dating,” she said. “But I will explain why I’m hesitant.”
“That’s fair.”
“Good night,” she said in a sweet voice that made me want to climb into her apartment and taste her tongue.
“Good night,” I reluctantly said as she hung up.
She strolled away from the kitchen, entered her room, and turned off the light. The fifty candles all over the room lit together in one instant.
How is she doing that?
She got under her fuzzy purple blanket, blew a kiss to the Captain Habitat poster on the ceiling, and lay in her bed.
Minutes passed. I waited to hear the soft sound of her slumber.
But instead, she sat up. Her hand went to her nightstand’s top drawer, pulled something out, and took it under the blanket.
A humming sound filled the room.
It has to be a vibrator.
I bit my lip, wanting to come through the window and please her myself.
“Zulu,” she moaned.
I froze, standing there for a few seconds more, watching her pleasure herself with my name on her tongue.
“Zulu.”
You’ll say more than that when I claim you.
I had to go now, or I’d do something that we would both regret. I flashed a grin and back-flipped off of her fire escape, falling into the air.
A cool wind rushed up my body.
My wings expanded with a snap, and then I rose high into the sky, above Lanore’s building, singing York’s song in my mind.
In this cage, behind these bars, I think of you and me.
THE VICIOUS CIRCLE
Lanore
“Although our vaginas are in different places and respond in different ways,” the Fire Witch professor said as she magically lit all of the yellow candles in the room, “we all have them, and that is what binds us together in a sisterhood.”
I raised my eyebrows and smirked.
The Mixbreed, Demon, and Troll students had been asked to sit on their rugs on the right side of the room. The rest of the Purebloods sat on the far left.
So much for a sisterhood.
Professor Frei sat down on the gold rug in front and crossed her legs until they were under her thighs. Usually her carrot-orange hair spread out in a wild, curly heap on top of her head. Today, she’d slicked it all back into a tight bun. Her eyes had a bronze hue in the candlelit room as she gazed at the rest of the students and me, giving us each a nod and smile.
“Remember, this is not a competition.” She sliced the air in front of her with her tattoo-covered hands. “We all must take our own journey using Dr. Xandon’s principals of vaginal meditation. Let’s begin a warm-up meditative silence.”
Everyone, except me, closed their eyes.
I scanned the classroom.
Gold bowls full of silver water circled Professor Frei. A pink lotus flower floated in each. Four-foot statues of Dr. Xandon meditating were carved in gold and placed in every corner of the candlelit room. The candles must have been a citrus blend because the room had the scent one would get when peeling a ripe orange.
Just thinking of chomping down on a sweet orange made my stomach grumble.
Professor Frei snapped her eyes open and sighed as she looked at me.
This was our third course together. The first one, Navigating Fire for Transcendence, she’d kicked me out for constantly sneaking Pixies into her class. They’d devoured most of her lotus flowers and had crapped glittery multi-colored poop on two statues.
During the second course, Blood Peace Potions, she’d caught me taking a purple candle from her goddess’s altar. I’d really felt bad about that later. Granted, there wasn’t a sign that said you couldn’t take it.
She’d barely permitted me to register for this course. I’d begged and given her a huge box of new candles. She’d taken the box and admitted that I would have to go through a probationary period.
My stomach rumbled again. I sucked my gut in and whispered, “Sorry.”
Professor Frei shut her eyes and hummed.
I closed my own, twirling my fuzzy yarn rug with my hands and sliding my fingertips across its rugged surface.
“Okay. Let us begin with Dr. Xandon’s first principle.” She closed her eyes and held her hands out. “You must first align your mind with your vagina.”
I loudly snorted.
Shuffling ensued. I opened my eyes to see that everyone was glancing at me. Some scowled. Others glared. Apparently, snorting was not proper behavior in this class.
Calm down, people. I didn’t do it intentionally.
“Lanore Vesta,” Professor Frei said. “Surely this seems funny at first, but trust me. If you learn the Alignment Rituals, you will experience a peace within your life like no other.”
“Yes ma’am.” I nodded and closed my eyes again.
That was the reason I’d enrolled in the course, to gain some sort of harmony within my life. Maybe I did need to align my vagina with my brain. They definitely didn’t work together. My brain found sensible men that were nice and quiet—like Wallace. He’d been awesome to hang out with. We both liked Captain Habitat, lounging in the library, and abhorred all of the famous Vampire philosophers.
But my vagina didn’t want him.
She wanted men that stomped around, beating their chests and injuring people who got in their way.
I exhaled.
“Focus on your vagina,” Professor Frei whispered.
How do I do that? Picture it? Think about it? Do I really know what it completely looks like? Do I want to? Wait. Maybe that’s the problem; maybe I should take a picture and—
“Miss Vesta!” the professor yelled.
The Troll on my right giggled into her hairy hand.
“Yes?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
Professor Frei halted a minute, inhaled and exhaled a few times, and then said, “You’re grinding your teeth and tapping your knees to the point that it is distracting everyone.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just don’t understand how to align everything together.”
“Close your eyes and think of what would make your vagina happy,” she ordered with an edge of aggravation. “You are making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Alrighty.” I closed my eyes. MeShack’s fingers immediately came to my mind and then Zulu’s lips.
“Just think of a warm bath or comfortable underwear,” she suggested.
Oh.
“Not a past or future lover?” I interrupted.
The entire class broke out into laughter.
I bit my lip and opened my eyes to see the professor glaring at me. The candles’ flames shot four feet in the air. She pointed to the doo
r.
I quietly got up, rolled my violet yarn rug, and left the class.
“Combo Trash,” an Earth Witch near the door rudely whispered.
I leaned down her way. “Say that outside so I can set your vagina on—”
The professor cleared her throat. “Miss Vesta, please leave my class in a peaceful manner.”