Dangerous, Diabolical
Chapter 1 - Members Only

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A/N - for my 'Dangerous, Diabolical - best kept secrets' readers, this coincides with Leo's POV - chapter 1

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I’d just about managed to drag my feet and sanity through a shift at work before my feet led me to stand outside my favourite club, Members Only. The evening held a cool crispness, where you could feel the winter bitterness creeping, but the air tasted of pollen and cut grass. British Summer Time was quickly departing, leaving the evening lit with soft hues as the sunset teetered on the horizon.

Unlike most clubs in town, it wasn’t splashed across a corner, lit brazenly. Members Only boasted an exterior as if listening to smooth jazz with an espresso martini in hand, the sharp tang burning a sublime path to the senses. It was nothing flashy, but an unmistakable elegance hung over it.

If the whole shelf-stacking thing didn’t work out, I often considered employment here as a backup.

The patrons stumbling in and out for a smoke were a common sight. Groups of drunken males would pause to shout a catcall, but lately, the odd lady was departing after a night of watching the entertainment.

My stern boldness in standing outside gained a few quizzical stares, but a quick glare sent them scuttling away. I wasn’t in any mood to entertain their curious glances as I was feeling far too hungry to keep my temper under control; losing it would cause several problems for this small English town, and it was rather pleasant. If I broke out in rage, causing a scene and revealing myself along with the magical community, it would be the quickest way to forced relocation.

A council of powerful mages, witches, dual-natured beings, and not to forget - a mix of things I couldn’t care to figure out - kept the rest of the folk in check.

Armed with a mixture of forgetting spells, control of the media and their claws deep in politics, we remained an infamous secret. Every human had some tale concoction they could summon about each species on the roster, including bizarre collections about the more obscure ones.

We were the best and worst kept secret.

Strict rules occupied interactions with humans. As a result, by law, my slow ageing would become noticeable eventually. That would force a move under the council’s jurisdiction, so I wanted to make the most of this little town.

It wasn’t a problem to lodge a petition to the SPCC, Supernatural Policies and Control Council; a quick call explaining the situation, and courtesy of them, a new I.D., not to mention a preloved house assigned in a suitable location and abracadabra - I’d be a brand-new human - figuratively speaking. That was as long as I played by the rules, went to work, paid my taxes on time and ensured continued insignificance.

If I lost my temper and began to eat the population, the council would be hauling me on murder charges, and those were not something which looked in favour of a long, healthy life.

“Best behaviour.”

I mumbled the mantra, pulling the fake fur coat close around me. It set off a range of ticklish itching on my back, and I wrinkled my nose in annoyance. Could I scratch it without flouting the unwritten public code of conduct?

Before I could get an itch in, a slenderly tall woman sporting a bobbed silver wig sauntered over. “Hey, Andy! Good to see you, girl!” she purred, calling my nickname. As usual, her scent hit me first. It was the crushed pine needles of a forest and the lichen of the deep dark. The nights you spent running under the moonlight and bathing in blood. On the surface loitered the alcohol scents from the bar that tickled my nostrils, her sweat from dancing and the bitter tang of pole chalk. Then, the most satisfying smell of all rolled over my tongue: money.

“Good night, Willow?” I smirked, knowing her pockets were already well-lined, and she would have only just started. Willow offered me a large smile, the dark red lipstick pulled to set into the most perfect dimples. Her magic coated her in a soft caress, meaning she couldn’t sport even one imperfection, but also that her true nature was a mystery to any unwise onlooker. Unless, of course, you spent a couple of moonlit nights with her whilst she dragged unsuspecting victims into the forest.

She fluttered her eyelids. “Human men are so simple.” Her fake eyelashes brushed against her eyebrows. I watched them entranced, knowing that this was one creature I wasn’t interested in eating. For that matter, I wasn’t sure if she could even bleed. Spriggans were more plant than creature.

Willow’s part plant status gave her skin tone a rich quality, yet it was a rough bark in her natural form. Not only was she not meat, but I worried a tooth might break if I bit her.

The biggest argument of all? She was good company.

Awkwardly navigating long nails in her pockets, the Spriggan fished out a cigarette, popping it in her lips and leaning towards me. I tapped the end dutifully, fingertip brimming with magic. The paper shrivelled with a rewarding sizzle, the end aflame as my fingertip glowed with a soft red hue, fading as I pulled the magic back. Willow winked in appreciation.

Whilst I wasn’t going to win the best spellcaster of the year, I had some limited control over raw energy. It was an unwritten rule that it was necessary to flaunt it now and again.

Willow inhaled a long drag. My magic still coiled through the paper, and she inhaled the residue, adding the power surge to her tobacco high. Her lips exhaled gratefully before making conversation. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“So, how was prison today? David give you a difficult time again?”

My boss, David, enjoyed nothing more than telling me about everything I was doing poorly. “Nope. He says I’ve had only four complaints this week.” A little joyous wiggle snuck through me. “I’m doing much better!”

She nodded encouragingly. “Only two weeks of probation left? I’ve gotta say I miss you on the nights. It’s nowhere near as fun picking victims out on my own.” She glanced about, pursuing her lips. “I just can’t bag the screamers like you can.” The cigarette wafted as she gestured around at the stragglers.

“Aw, well, I’ll help you pick someone special out for winter solstice,” I consoled, “I’ll even burn the clothes right off them so you can watch the flesh slowly freeze after.” They usually panicked when their clothes burst into flames whilst wearing them. It seriously freaked them out. I’d been referred to by some of them as the devil a few times, which was quite flattering. With all the practice, I was getting better at only leaving minor skin burns. A few more attempts and it would be a good party trick to make just clothes go up in flames... If only I had someone to show off the trick to.

Screaming participants were no fun for any demonstration. You try to be all cool, and they won’t pay attention. Too busy demanding to be untied and for me to think of their families. Blah blah. It’s a guaranteed fact that they will never give you an honest review.

Humans always seemed to know I was something other. The minute they were alone in a room with me, it became a rabbit in headlights situation. That was the one thing I respected about my boss David was that he didn’t piss his pants when confined with me in close quarters.

More importantly, I had a cover to maintain. The biggest problem, on top of a long list that detailed why the council was a necessary evil, I may have lied a little on my application to join the SPCC’s database. It wasn’t my fault their species’ testing wasn’t very thorough. If they wanted to think of me as mostly human, with the odd Ifrit fire power, I wasn’t correcting them.

Not even Willow knew I was more than just a weakling fire elemental with a passion for bloodlust. I’d maintained the lie to the SPCC for the last 30 years since taking the plunge to be a documented citizen. There wasn’t a scale to measure species with, as mixing bloodlines became messy and produced unpredictable results. It was a roll of the dice; a half-human, half-magician could give the offspring a trace of magic, or it could give them god-like abilities and a madness streak along with it.

If I were to claim my long life was just a side effect of a bloodline to a distant grandmother, how were they to judge otherwise? As far as they were concerned, I was mostly harmless. Since I could only create the odd fire spark, what damage could I do?

The car that blew up last week when it almost hit me was a mysterious coincidence.

Despite the urge to bask in attention, I also wanted to keep my inconsequential life under the radar. Holding a steady job and acting human was one of the sacrifices necessary to achieve it. My species wasn’t on the SPCC’s top-ten cuddly species list, but at least we were rare. If my real identity came out, I’d bet my best coin the council would hunt me faster than I could fly to Australia.

My attention snapped back to Willow as I realised she was still talking.

“So, I was like, sure! I’ll give you a lap dance honey, but if you touch me, I want double. Of course, you know what he’s like. Totally hands-on. It took maybe a minute before he went in for a grab, so I zapped him with some confusion juice and let me tell you, if he knows a single letter in his name tomorrow, I’m finding me a new magic nature.”

I pulled what I hoped was the right face. Willow rolled her eyes. “You could at least be a bit impressed at me using my power through a butt-cheek. I might use it in the woods next time instead of the hand-holding. Grab my butt mortal! Into the forest we go!”

“You’ll be truly irresistible,” I assured her.

Her face twisted into a gleeful smirk. “Right? Imagine the reputation amongst my family. I’ll be known as the butt-knapper.”

“Ass-ass-inator,” I supplied with as serious of a face as I could muster.

She snorted out cigarette smoke, “Now that,” she paused, wiggling her eyebrows, “I can get behind.” we dissolved into laughter.

My snorts stifled as a bitter scent wafted in our direction. Straightening, Willow caught on to the sudden switch in demeanour and scanned the area, trying to throw a subtle glance over my head. A sour sweat sickened the air, and I was already picturing the type of male it belonged to. When Willow’s gaze locked onto a figure, she exhaled through her teeth.

“Gross. He looks like he smells.” Her nose wrinkled up.

Grimacing, I agreed, “I wouldn’t even eat that for free.”

“You eat all humans for free.” She argued, voice deadpan, “Urgh, don’t look now, he’s coming over this way.” A cold shudder ran down my back as the smell grew stronger.

“Ladies.” His voice drawled, fitting his odour. Greasy. The man had reached the edges of my acceptable personal space, causing the hairs on my arm to stand on edge. Sharply turning to keep him within my peripheral vision, my eyes met his as I let my true gaze reach through my eyes, a bit of the other leaking behind them. He froze, face falling blank of expression.

It was usually the fastest way to deter unwanted attention, and this time was no exception. There was a soft scratch behind me as Willow snuffed her cigarette out. He’d officially ruined her break.

“Ugh, I’m going to ask the bouncers to reject him.” She murmured too softly for anyone else to hear. “I better go hon,” There was a quick brush of lips over my cheek as she prepared to depart.

“Good shout,” I muttered back to her as she drifted off, slightly miffed I was left to deal with him but also understanding he would not be someone who’d be welcome in a small club’s room. Despite my warning glare and the sudden fright that had caused his muscles to lock, upon regaining his composure, he still sauntered closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” His voice slurred. I couldn’t detect alcohol but wasn’t ready to dismiss drugs. Scowling, I rolled my eyes and began to walk away. “Aww, don’t be like that sweetheart! I just wanna talk to ya!”

Nope.

I was going to have to let this one slide. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I continued to walk away, only to hear uneven footsteps following.

What was with this guy?

Normal humans would be halfway home in a taxi on the phone with their psychiatrist. Well, I’d easily take him out if needed. He could follow me if he wanted; it would be his funeral.

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