“Oh Amanda…” Chloe shook her head in mock disappointment. “After all these years you’re still Team Edward? No thanks, I don’t like getting holes poked in me while my other hole gets poked.”
“Beast Kindred then.” Amanda gave a shiver of delight. “They’re so big and shaggy and scary and sexy with those golden eyes like an animal’s.”
For a moment Chloe felt an odd dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach, as though she’d just gone down a roller coaster. A picture flashed across her mind’s eyes—golden eyes, just like Amanda had described them—eyes that were looking at her hungrily… She pushed the strange image away quickly. What was it anyway—some half remembered dream? It made her feel strange and unsure of herself which she didn’t like a bit. She was a girl who knew her own mind and she didn’t like feeling uncertain.
“So?” Amanda said. “Beast Kindred?”
“The worst of all,” Chloe said decisively. “Haven’t you heard they have some kind of extra man-meat around the base of their…you know.” She mimed pointing to her crotch and Amanda giggled.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope.” Chloe shook her head solemnly. “Afraid not. Think how stretched out you’d be! And once they get that in you, I’ve heard there’s no getting it out again for hours. Ouch! Huh-uh…definitely not for me.”
“Well, if you’re not interested in Kindred and you’re not interested in human guys, where does that leave you?” her friend demanded.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” Chloe defended herself. “I just said I can’t find the right one. And lately it seems like it’s too much trouble to try.”
“Oh come on—try one more time. Please, for me?” Amanda begged. “Just try this app and put exactly what you just told me, okay? You can even use regular pictures. No false advertising—just you.”
“Well…” Chloe could feel herself weakening. She was about to turn thirty and she wanted to find someone as much as Amanda did. All their friends had paired off by now and plenty of them were filling her Facebook feed with baby pictures. Why did finding the right guy have to be so hard?
Why can’t I find a guy who wants me for who I am and doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to women? she wondered. Someone who isn’t constantly trying to change me or make me thinner?
“I can see you’re about to give in,” Amanda said, grinning. “Hold that thought—I just want to change my top for one more shot and then we’ll start working on your profile.”
She ran into other room, presumably to change her clothes, before Chloe could protest. Chloe opened her mouth to call after her friend…but that was when things got weird.
First of all there was a blaring noise from somewhere—the glass maybe? Chloe stared at the mirror, frowning. What the hell? From the other room, Amanda yelled,
“What was that? Someone blowing their horn outside? Is there a car out there?”
“Don’t know. Don’t think so.” Chloe didn’t bother to look out the small bathroom window though—her eyes were glued to the mirror which was shimmering and swirling in a strange way. It looked almost like someone had melted it and it was beginning to run like silver paint. Chloe leaned closer. What was going on?
“Well, don’t—” Amanda’s voice started but Chloe never heard what else her friend said. Because at that moment she found herself being sucked into the swirling, melting silver mass where the mirror had been…
Sucked out of her world and into a different life forever.
* * * * *
“This is not the right one.” The blue worm staring down at her seemed very upset as it spoke to another blue worm, also staring down at her. Both of them were about three feet tall and had multiple arms. “You were meant to bring the other female—she is closer to the ideal.”
“It cannot be helped—we can only afford to bring one,” the other worm said. “And do not blame me—it was your shoddy second-hand equipment which caused this error—not mine.”
“I could not afford any better and buy a dimensional shift stabilizer,” the first worm snapped back. “If only Char’noth and his band had not monopolized the Earth in our own dimension such expenses would not have been necessary. But we must harvest the Earth females of this dimension and so our resources are necessarily limited. We must make do with this one.”
“Put her in the construct then,” the other worm advised. “By the time the first buyers arrive to bid on her, she may be altered enough to attract a good price. Then we can afford the energy necessary to bring another female—one closer to the ideal.”
Finally, Chloe found her voice.
“Who are you?” she demanded, wishing her words didn’t shake so much. “And what do you want with me?” She looked down at herself and gasped. “And why am I naked?”
“None of these questions are of any concern,” the first worm said to her. “You are our first product and we intend to sell you for a good price—though first you must be closer to the Earth ideal of beauty.”
It snapped the fingers on two of its skinny, knobby blue hands and suddenly a door appeared in the air between them.
“What the…how did you do that?” Chloe demanded. She could feel her eyes getting wider and wider—she must look like something out of a cartoon. But this felt like more of a nightmare.
“This is a construct drawn from your own mind which will help you to achieve the ideal,” the head worm told her—which made absolutely no sense. “Now, in you go,” it said.
The door in the air opened smoothly, revealing what looked like the entryway of a richly appointed mansion. Chloe was pulled to her feet and what felt like hundreds of scratchy claws—the alien worms’s fingers she supposed—were pushing her roughly through the doorway.
Later she wished she had done anything at that moment—fought and screamed and kicked and pushed—anything but let the blue worms push her through the doorway in the air. But she was still in shock—everything was all so unreal it was hard to believe it was happening at all.
And so she stumbled through and the door slapped shut behind her, trapping her in her own private hell.
Chapter Two
Present Day
“This has to be it,” Tark thought to himself as he eyed the blinking red sign hanging above the doorway of the small round space station. It was nicely camouflaged in the layer of space junk which encircled the Earth. He was willing to bet not even the Kindred of the Mother Ship knew it was here.
“Dimensional Doors Discount Females,” read the sign in Standard. It had to be the place the priestess had mentioned in her prophesy.
“Through a door between worlds
A jewel will be found.”
The words rang in his memory, as though they had been spoken yesterday. The next part of the prophecy made less sense, however…
“Both high overhead
And close to the ground.”
Tark frowned when he thought of them and squeezed the metal gauntlet which covered his right hand nervously. That part of the prophecy had almost sent him in a different direction.
The Commercians’ Discount center wasn’t the only place balanced on a Dimensional rift. There was also the Resort of Resonant Oneness, located deep in the caverns of Fet’lkk Three. But since he would have needed a partner and a whole hell of a lot of credit to get in there, Tark had decided to try this place first.
Hopefully it held the jewel the priestess had told him to find.
Bringing his ship closer, he sent out a grappling arm and dragged himself forward until the accordion-linked ship-to-shuttle walkway could get a magnetic lock on the side of the Commercians’ station. The blue worms from another dimension were expecting him. They ought to open the airlock as soon as they felt the vibration of the walkway connecting.
This was it, he told himself as he walked through the gray accordion, made of flexible plasti-steel, and waited at the door. This was when his life was finally going to change.
He squeezed the metal gauntlet on his right hand a
gain. It was an enhancement he’d picked up during the time he’d spent with a squadron of Dark Kindred. The DK were a chill bunch of bastards—they never expected you to talk to them or to be social. Getting your job done right was enough and then everybody went home, recharged, and did it all again the next day. He could go days without speaking there—weeks and months even.
Dark Kindred were so easy to be around because they had no emotions—they didn’t let themselves feel. Tark had considered getting an emotion damper of his own installed while he was with them. It would have been the easiest thing in the world and he could have turned off the loneliness that ate at him like a fucking cancer day in and day out.
In the end, though, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t really want to live the rest of his life like a soulless robot—he wanted what other males wanted, a mate and maybe even children one day. It was just that he couldn’t have any of that—not the way he was. But he’d decided he was damned if he would give up without trying at least one last time to find a solution to his problem.
Accordingly, he had gone back home—not to Rageron, which was the Beast Kindred home world—but to Twin Moons, where he had been raised. His father had been a diplomat to the Twin Kindred there and Tark had been raised as an outsider—not only the sole Beast Kindred, but also the only male in school without a twin to back him up in a fight. And the Goddess knew, he got into plenty of fights. He was too different—it made him an easy target for bullies. Until he’d gotten his growth, he’d gotten pounded pretty regularly, which had made his mother cry and his father angry.
But then, most things about him made his father angry. They didn’t fucking get along.
So though he went home, he avoided his father’s domicile and went instead to the Sacred Grove where he had requested that a priestess See into him.
It wasn’t an easy or comfortable procedure. The priestess who took the task rifled with rough fingers through his mind and memories, making Tark wince as she saw the pain he had endured…and the pain he had inflicted on others. At last she had released his face—she stood over him as he knelt at her feet—and frowned down at him.
“I see, Warrior—you are alone yet you do not wish to be. You are locked out from within.”
Mutely, Tark had nodded.
“And what do you want from me? Healing? Absolution?” She frowned at him, her green-on-green eyes flashing.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to get the words out.
“A chance,” he said at last. It might not have been enough for anyone else to know what he meant, but the priestess seemed to understand. She nodded abruptly.
“Very well—this is all I can offer you so listen closely.”
Her green-on-green eyes rolled up and her voice became deep and powerful as she spoke.
Though it was the first time he had ever witnessed it, Tark knew a prophecy in progress when he heard one and he paid close attention to her words.
“Through a door between worlds
A jewel will be found
Both high overhead
And close to the ground
The jewel will unlock
The knot of your voice
But it must come unasked
Unbidden, by choice
Seek for it high
And seek for it low
And treat it with care
Stroke it gently and slow
When you have found
The jewel that you seek
Then you will be cured
Of a future that’s bleak.”
When she finished speaking, the priestess’s eyes went back to normal and, without another word, she stepped back into the shade of the purple and green trees which made up the Sacred Grove. With barely a rustle of the leaves, she melted back into the forest.
Tark had understood that his audience with her was over. He could do nothing now but try to interpret her words and hope that he could find the chance he was looking for. It had taken months of seeking but finally he knew what was expected of him—finally he had found the right place.
So here I am, he thought as he banged impatiently on the metal door with his gauntleted hand. Looking for the jewel. Where are they hiding it?
Wherever it was, he intended to find it and claim it for his own. He would offer to buy it first but if they wouldn’t sell, Tark was determined to take it. Of course, there was that one line in the prophesy about how the jewel had to come to him unbidden and by choice but how could a hunk of mineral make a choice? He decided that part wasn’t really important—what mattered was that he walked out of the Commercians’ station with the jewel one way or the other.
His life was going to change for the better today—he would damn well make it happen.
Chapter Three
“Oh dear—I’m afraid you’re up two whole pounds this morning, Chloe! What are we going to do with you?” the scale chirped sorrowfully.
“It’s water weight, you idiot,” Chloe snapped at it, stepping off the lighted weighing area. “For the last time, I’m on my freaking period.”
“I’m afraid the phrase ‘freaking period’ means nothing to me,” the scale said. “But you know how we feel about excuses, Chloe. I’m afraid there will be no reward today.”
“What, like the chicken breast you gave me yesterday?” Chloe snarled.
The chicken breast actually had been a nice change from protein pellets which was what she usually got. They were dry and crumbly and tasted like the shavings at the bottom of a hamster cage. Of course there was no sauce or breading or anything like that but even just plain with salt and pepper, the chicken was better than pellets.
“I’m afraid the lean protein drawer in Mr. Refrigerator will be locked today—as will the treat cabinet in Mr. Pantry,” the scale told her. “However, an hour on the exer-cycle or swimming laps in the pool might unlock the vegetable crisper.”
“What about some fruit?” Chloe asked. When she was on her period, she craved sweets desperately—especially chocolate. She knew the scale would never let her have a candy bar or a homemade slice of chocolate cake—she made the best cake ever—but it seemed like fruit shouldn’t be too much to ask. Should it?
“Unfortunately, even natural sugars can turn to fat if eaten to excess,” the scale said primly. “And I cannot reward such excessive weight gain with a sweet treat, Chloe. You know that.”
“God! Just an apple? A pear? Some grapes—anything.” Chloe was beginning to feel desperate. She was lucky enough to have an extremely light flow during her period—she hardly bled at all and she didn’t have much cramping either. But she did have some of the most intense food cravings during that time.
She was almost over it but spending an entire week surfing the crimson wave with no chocolate had been a real pain. Being denied the sweets her body craved so desperately because of a weight gain which was not her fault seemed both unfair and arbitrary.
“I’m afraid—” the scale began but Chloe was sick of listening to its whiny, disapproving voice.
“Oh, fuck off,” she snapped. Tugging angrily at the tiny black lace baby doll nighty the house had provided for her to wear—Mr. Closet insisted on giving her clothing that was too small as some kind of weird motivation to lose weight—she went down to the kitchen, even though she knew it was a hopeless quest.
The kitchen of her prison home looked like something a professional chef on a cooking show might own. It had two ranges—one gas and one electric, a convection oven, a microwave, a huge stainless steel refrigerator and a free-standing glass-fronted pantry which allowed a clear view of all the food stored within.
There were copper pots hanging from hooks over the center island and stacks of baking pans as well—not that she ever got to use any of them, Chloe thought sourly. She hadn’t baked a single thing in the month she’d been here—because all the good baking ingredients were locked up tight and Mr. Scale refused to release them. She wasn’t about to try and make brownies with mashed up protein pellets and seaweed
flour.
She looked at the glass-fronted pantry longingly. She had long ago figured out that the house produced food she wanted for motivational purposes—though she rarely got to eat it. Mostly she was lucky to get some celery or kale or quinoa to go with her protein pellets. But there was always something in the pantry taunting her with the promise of better things to come if she could just do a little better…get a little thinner.
Today the pantry was stocked with everything she was craving the most. Looking through its glass front, Chloe saw a box of Krispy Kreme glazed donuts, some mini cherry tarts in adorable little individual tart pans, and worst of all, an entire box of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, pressing her face to the glass and staring in. “Chocolate…I need chocolate!” She tugged on the handle uselessly but of course it was locked up tight.
“Uh-uh-uh, Chloe,” came the prim, school-marmish voice of the pantry. “I’m afraid my sweet treats are off limits for you today. I understand from Mr. Scale that you gained two whole pounds! That’s terrible and you know it. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“It’s water weight,” Chloe said again. “I’m all bloated and feeling horrible because I’m on my period! What I need is a nice cup of hot tea, a chick-flick movie marathon, and some of those Thin Mints. Come on, just give me a few and I promise I’ll spend all afternoon in the pool swimming laps. Please?” She felt like an idiot, begging an inanimate object for chocolate but the cravings growing inside her made her desperate.
“Now, Chloe,” rumbled Mr. Refrigerator. The vast silver appliance had a deep, jovial voice like a fake Santa Clause. “Please don’t pester Mr. Pantry for treats you know you don’t deserve. Why don’t you come see what I have in my drawers for you today?”
Unwillingly, Chloe turned to the fridge whose doors had already swung open to display shelves full of the tiny, dry protein pellets. The blast of cold air made her shiver in her too-small black lace nighty but she leaned in anyway, hoping against hope to see something good to eat. There were glass drawers below the shelves, filled with fruit and vegetables. She tugged experimentally on one which held fat, juicy-looking Honey Crisp apples but it wouldn’t open.