Enchanted Ever After

One thing he had determined that day, he was definitely attracted to her. It had been a long time, since his adolescence, that he’d wanted to have sex with a human woman. Perhaps it was because he sensed the inherent potential in her to become Lightfolk...but he hadn’t been drawn to the other women and men he’d seen transformed.

Should he phone her? He had her application, with telephone numbers, on his personal computer tablet, but he wanted her to be aware of him, wanted her to come to him. However, he’d inadvertently used glamour on her earlier that day; the Emberdrakes wouldn’t forget that.

So he dragged in a breath that brought him the scent of leaves ready to turn in the autumn, losing their water flexibility and becoming dry and brittle, as well as the fragrance of the pond and the koi within, stupid and not good to eat. Considered beautiful by humans—and Kiri seemed to believe that—but compared to ocean creatures, the koi were ugly and clumsy. Most of all, the scent of balanced magic curled into his nostrils, layering on the folded frills.

He felt that balanced magic in the soles of his feet, and Jenni, as she’d trailed through the rooms, had balanced the magic in them. She’d ventured into each of the royal rooms and made the fire suite all of that element, then changed the energy of each of the others to match.

Wondrous.

But he was still landlocked, still had to live in his human form, even in this very special place. And the Castle wasn’t his. He stayed here at the whim of the Eight, or the Water King.

He closed the wooden door with a thunk, walked through the entryway, then up to the top of the four-story small tower. From here he could see all of the Circle, each house with bright squares of living.

He was alone. Occasionally, he was allowed to stay in a secondary home by himself—the last perched like a carbuncle on the shelf of a deep marine trench. It had been smaller than this, and cold. But usually he was a “houseguest” of some other person or family. His own family was gone—his father, who’d been the last of his line, was dead; his mother had listened to her relatives and abandoned him soon after he was born. He shook off the memory.

Luxurious to have a home of such quality to himself. It felt good, but he wouldn’t forget that he had no permanent place, no family. That was his goal, something he could win with the success of this project.

The quiet in the mansion hummed with magic to his ears, and pleased him. No intolerant naiader begrudged him here, a relief. Even as he enjoyed the peace of being by himself in a special place, he knew he’d eventually become lonely.

He wished Kiri was here to share the serenity...and make memories.

* * *

By the time Thursday morning rolled around, Kiri and her friend Shannon had spent a couple of cherished hours on the phone speculating about details of the new game, Transformation. They’d agreed that it would probably be another fantasy-world with the magic-based systems that Jenni Weavers Emberdrake was known for.

Both Kiri and Shannon had decided that having the game determine your character—strengths, weaknesses, types like magic user or long-distance shooter—sounded extremely dubious from a marketing standpoint. Good for novelty, but there’d better be an option for character creation. Kiri hoped she had the guts to give that opinion...but at the end of the trial, not now.

She hadn’t slept much and got up when predawn light filtered into her bedroom, still undecided about what she would wear. In the game she was a fashionista—and perfectly proportioned. In the real world, her breasts and hips were full, she was short-waisted and short-legged and if she didn’t watch it, she’d be plump.

Definitely not a business suit and stockings, even though she was meeting Lathyr in a downtown Denver high-rise, and there might be other people there to interview her, too. If she knew Jenni Weavers Emberdrake a little better, she’d have called the other woman and asked for advice, but Kiri still considered Jenni as one of the people who’d be watching her.

What mattered was the game—handling herself. Her shoulders had lifted with tension and her shoulder blades had squeezed together. Learning a new game was just like learning anything else—a new craft, a new job. There was a curve. Kiri wanted to be at the top of the curve. But she had no doubt that though she might spend most of her time in the game today, appearance mattered.

She’d already worn her beige outfit to the block party. Maybe it was time for businesslike black. She dragged out black slacks and a pale gray, thin cashmere sweater, then put the sweater back. The Eight Corp offices were probably warm and she’d probably sweat during the game—no doubt in her mind that adrenaline would spike through her a few times—and she didn’t want to mess up her cashmere, no matter how comforting it might feel.

Ditch the whole professional business bit and go for what she was: computer tech and gamer. She put on a Fairies and Dragon tee, covered it with a plum-colored hoodie and wore her best cargo pants. Done. She would not dress up for Lathyr.

Breakfast was half an English muffin with cream cheese and coffee.

She perched on the edge of her living room chair until the car taking her downtown beeped out in front, and her stomach gave a little squeeze.

Whatever happened, her life would never be the same....

Chapter 7

HALF AN HOUR later, she was the only one in the elevator rising to Eight Corp’s floor, although the huge lobby of the building had bustled with other people. She adjusted her hoodie and her workbag—this one a pristine bright red Fairies and Dragons carryall—over her shoulder, and did a few deep breaths as she watched the floor numbers light.

The door opened and she was met by Jenni and Lathyr. Jenni wore casual, too, but Lathyr had on a pale gray silk suit.

No one sat at the receptionist’s desk—odd, because Kiri had only worked places where the receptionist had the earliest hours. With her first step, Kiri’s feet literally sank into a deep green rug. She got the impression of elegant luxury before Jenni held out both her hands with a big smile. “Glad to see you again.”

Once more, the woman’s hands were warmer than her own. Damn nerves. “Yes. I’m excited.”

“We are, too.” Jenni beamed.

Lathyr offered his own hand, and Kiri shook it, ignoring how nice it felt. Firm grip, meet his eyes—gorgeous deep blue. Breathe, because the initial greeting went okay.

“A pleasure,” Lathyr said.

“For me, too,” Kiri said.

Jenni turned and moved around a huge freestanding wall of granite. “Let’s head to the room where the game server is set up.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Kiri said.

“Do you want something to drink?” asked Lathyr.

Coffee would tweak her nerves even more. “Water would be great.”

He peeled off and Kiri followed Jenni down the hall to an interior room. It was painted an uninspired beige and was longer than it was wide. To Kiri’s surprise, an actual wooden counter polished to a gloss ran along the wall as a desk setup. Atop the counter, four huge monitors sat. The most comfortable of ergonomic chairs—smelling of new plastic and metal—were placed before the monitors. Several different types of game controllers waited on a floating platform a little lower than the desk under each monitor. All top-of-the-line electronics.

“Wow, nice setup,” she said.

“Thanks.” Jenni went to the last chair on the left, sat and swiveled toward Kiri.

But Kiri’s stare had fixed on several sets of gloves that appeared to have filaments embedded in them, and four wraparound visors.

“As you can see,” Jenni said easily, “we’re experimenting a bit with virtual reality, also. Put on the visor and you’ll feel as if you’re really in the game. Wear the gloves and your gestures will be translated as powers. For instance, if you want to throw a fireball—”

“I’ll really act as if I’m throwing a ball.”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” Kiri stayed where she was.

“We’d like you to wear the gloves and visor.”

“This isn’t monitoring my vitals, is it?”

The line between Jenni’s eyes cleared. “No. Absolutely not. The gloves and the visor are simply to immerse you in a deeper gaming experience.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I have your water,” Lathyr said from behind her.

So Kiri sidled into the room, stood near the third chair. The man offered her a large bottle of fizzy water—the same brand of raspberry that she’d chosen at the block party, and somehow she didn’t think that was by chance. “Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome.” He did a torso incline thing, then closed the door and the room felt pretty small. Reaching out, he took a pair of large teal gloves and slipped them on, raising a brow at Kiri as he did so. He held a visor by the slim end and twirled it in his fingers.