Tales of the Change: Feeling Blue

"I told you it wouldn't work." She sounded oddly vindicated.

So, Olivia thought. Whoever did this protected her mind as well. Vicious fucking bastards. But I'm not giving up yet.

"Maybe not. But we have all day." She looked around the room, her glance falling on a white guitar with a black neck in a stand near the entertainment center. "What kind of guitar is that? Do you play?"

Chloe smiled, happy at the change of subject. The expression transformed her face. "Hell yes, I play." She picked up the guitar, sliding the strap over her shoulder. "This is a Joan Jett model Gibson Melody Maker. She used it on all of her hits. I got it six months ago. I've been practicing almost every day. I'm not very good yet, but I've been working on it." Her fingers picked out a melody, the silvery notes pure in the afternoon sunshine pouring through the windows. "How about you? Did you ever play an instrument?"

Olivia flipped a hand dismissively. "I played flute when I was in junior high. All part of the good little Chinese girl act. Nothing now. Edward?"

He ducked his head, embarrassed. "I played drums for a band when I was in college. I thought it would be a good way to meet girls. Didn't work."

"No way!" Chloe's eyes were shining. "Do you still have them? We should jam sometime. I've got plenty of room here. And the neighbors downstairs can't complain. I own half the building."

Edward leaned forward. "What kind of music do you like? Who are your influences?"

"Women," she said promptly. "Bad-ass women who can rock. None of this touchy-feely crap like Adele. Blondie. Siouxsie and the Banshees. Heart. Pink. Pat Benatar. And Joan Jett, of course."

"I love Joan Jett," Edward smiled. "Could you play for us?" From the floor, Olivia nodded enthusiastically.

"I would love to hear you," she said.

Chloe flushed, her skin blooming a delicate pink. Olivia thought she had never seen her look more lovely.

"All right," she said. Despite her grudging tone, her eyes were eager. She plugged the guitar into an amplifier, then fiddled with an expensive-looking piece of equipment.

"This pulls the instrument I'm playing out of the song. So I can practice with the band who recorded it. Kind of like a karaoke machine." She flexed her hand as a thundering drum solo pounded through the speakers. In moments, Joan Jett's "Do You Want to Touch Me," was resounding through the room.

"Every girl and boy needs a little joy.

All you do is sit and stare.

Begging on my knees; baby, won't you please?

Run your fingers through my hair?"

Now. While she's distracted. As Chloe sang, Olivia insinuated herself into her occupied mind. With her attention on the song and her instrument, she was able to avoid the fear and mistrust at the surface, and dive deep into her.

The body first, she thought. With her experience with Edward as a template, she was quickly able to find the Changes which had been made in her. She considered for a moment, then made a quick adjustment. The pheromones which made Chloe irresistible were now under her control. What she did with them was her choice.

Now, the mind. She dove deeper into Chloe's psyche, hearing the music all around her, feeling a part of the joy Chloe took in it.

So suddenly she gasped, she emerged in a garden. The grass was green and cool under her bare feet. A few yards away, a small girl with long black hair and pale skin looked up. Her dark eyes were swollen with weeping, and her face bore the tracks of her tears.

"Hello," she said, kneeling down. "My name is Olivia. Are you Chloe?"

The girl nodded, her lip trembling. Olivia took her hand gently, and caught her breath. The delicate skin of her hands and arms was scored with bloody scrapes.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, her voice sounding harsh in her ears.

"I don't know. I don't like it here," the tiny Chloe said. "I want to go away. But they won't let me." She pointed, and Olivia noticed for the first time that the garden was surrounded by a hedge made of rosebushes. The scent was cloyingly sweet, but the thorns were long and bitterly sharp.

"I tried to leave. I did! But it hurts. It hurts so much. Will you help me? I don't like it here. I want to go away."

"Of course, honey," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. In her mind, she cursed the ones who had done this. If this is a test, she thought, the ones who are running it are monsters.

She gathered Chloe into her arms. "Hold tight to me." The child burrowed in close, hiding her face in her hair, wrapping her arms around Olivia's neck. She held the child tight, using her forearms to shield her from the raking thorns.

She walked to the edge of the hedge and stopped. "You have no place here," she said to it, her voice clear and cold as winter ice. "I am Olivia Lee, the Seductress. I protect the weak and I heal the ones you have carelessly blighted with your power." The limbs of the bushes thrashed in an unfelt wind. They reached for her, the brambles seeking to tear at her exposed flesh. The music rose to a crescendo. She extended one arm, and a blade suddenly appeared in her hand. A sword? No, a set of pruning shears. Again it changed, and she held a six-string guitar, blindingly white. Untouched by her hands, it rang with music.

"Get out of her mind," she growled, and strode forward. The branches reached forward menacingly.

"Would you like a piggy-back ride, honey?" she said. She shifted Chloe around so she was riding on her back. With a vicious sweep, she whirled the guitar through the air. Wherever it struck, branches shattered like icicles. In moments, she had cleared a path through the barrier. Her boots ground the broken remains of the hedge into the dust, leaving only a handful of rose petals, floating away on a warm breeze.

She turned and faced the plants. "When I come back," she said, "I expect you to be gone. You have no place here."

On her back, little Chloe wiggled. She crouched so she could slide down to the ground.

"I'm leaving now," she said. "Thank you, Olivia. Goodbye." She turned and ran away. Olivia couldn't be sure, but her form seemed to alter and grow the farther away she got. It grew dimmer in the distance, but just before it vanished, it seemed to Olivia that she saw a woman, her hips swaying proudly, her steps swift and sure.

She blinked, and found herself back in the living room of Chloe's penthouse. She was shaking as if she had just run a marathon. In front of her, Chloe stood gasping over her guitar. Her white t-shirt was drenched with sweat, and her blue hair clung in sweaty spikes to her forehead.

"What..." Olivia stopped and wet her dry lips. "How long was I out of it?"

"Nearly half an hour," Edward replied. He looked back and forth between the two women. "You just sat there, staring at her. I couldn't get you to respond to me. And Chloe..." He trailed off. "Good God, girl. You were shredding. If this is how you play as a beginner, I can't wait until you're an expert."

"She was in my head," Chloe said. "I could feel her. I knew if I stopped, I would lose control again. So I just kept playing. It helped, some." She looked at Olivia, her face tense. "Did you do it? I think...I think you did. I feel different."

"I did," Olivia said. Her voice was quietly triumphant. "You're still going to drive men crazy," she said, rising to her feet. "But that's going to be due to the fact that you are an amazingly lovely young woman. Not because of any chemical assistance your sweat glands are giving you. You'll have control of that, by the way. But I would advise you to leave it alone. You're not going to need the help."

"So...I can have sex?"

"All the sex you want, honey."

"But...I'm still scared."

"Of course you are." Her voice was warm and understanding. She drew her into an embrace, smiling when Chloe didn't shy away from her touch. "You're a virgin. And it's always harder for a woman than a man. We have to open up, to allow another person's body to invade ours. But if you choose the right lover," she said softly, "you'll never be afraid again.

"Edward, for instance."

"Me?"

"Yes. You," she said. "You've been making cow-eyes at her ever since we met her this morning. And it wasn't just about how she smelled.

"You two are right for each other, Edward," she said. Her voice was filled with love and affection. "The way I could never be right for you. You're an old-fashioned man. You've said it yourself. I can't give you what you want. I couldn't even try. What the Change has done to me, the urges I have...the needs..." She trailed off, her eyes distant, focused on something Edward couldn't see. "I wouldn't trade what I have for anything. I've grown. Changed. I'm happy with who I am. So very happy.

"But you could never be happy with me. How could you, being who we are? Can you stand there and say you wouldn't be jealous when I came home with another man's scent on me? Or if you came home and found a strange woman in our bed?

"But with Chloe? You can be. And you will." She stepped out of Chloe's arms, circling behind her. "Look at her, Edward." She stood behind her, cupping her firm young buttocks, reveling in the feeling of the warm flesh, felt through the worn leather. She dropped a quick kiss onto her neck.

"Trust me," she breathed into her ear. "Unless you would rather not. All you have to do is say no. We would never hurt you, darling."

Chloe shook her head violently. "No. I want it. I want this. I want him," she said. Her voice was strong and confident. "I've wanted him since the day I first met him. Months ago. When he came to the jail and talked to me. He was the first person in forever who didn't treat me like a freak. He didn't want anything. He just listened. I had almost forgotten what that felt like.

"I do have one question, though," she said to Edward, as Olivia began to pull her shirt off. She raised her arms, unresisting. "How old are you?" She eyed the strands of gray in his hair nervously.

Edward smiled crookedly. "I was twenty-eight when the Change hit. I'm thirty-one now." He ran a hand through the gray hair at his temples and grimaced. "This is what happens to a man when he can't get an erection for three years. I don't recommend it."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Olivia?" he asked plaintively. "If I'm the one who is right for Chloe, why are you the one who is taking her clothes off?"

She grinned at him, her hands laced around Chloe's bare stomach. She drew her close, pressing her chest into Chloe's naked back. "Because you are still sitting over there. Do you want her? Or not? Because if you don't, I am going to do my damnedest to convince her to go to bed with me instead of you." She ran her fingers up Chloe's sides, stopping just short of the swells of her breasts.

Chloe turned her head away from Edward, who was sitting in an agony of indecision. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Trust me, love," Olivia whispered into her ear. "I know his type. You have to force him to act. Otherwise he'll sit and dither and never do anything."

Chloe trembled, Olivia's hot breath sending shivers down her body. A warm, gentle ache began to bloom under her gentle touch, centered in her groin. She looked down at her breasts. They seemed to swell slightly, the skin becoming flushed, blooming pink. As she watched, her nipples tightened, forming hot buds the size of gumdrops. She raised one hand, cupping a breast, squeezing it. Her lips parted in a breathless moan.

She opened her eyes to see Edward staring at her. She swallowed hard. "Edward. Will you take my pants off? And take me to bed? And make love to me?" She laughed jaggedly. "I'll try not to beat you unconscious."

He rose to his feet and walked slowly over to her. His eyes, looking down at her, were infinitely gentle, and she felt her heart swell with desire for him. She laid a hand on his face, feeling the grain of stubble, his bony cheekbones. She traced the line of his eyebrow with his thumb. She felt his hands on her shoulders, and trembled; partly in fear, partly in longing. He stooped toward her suddenly. Before she could flinch away, she felt his lips, warm and gentle on hers.

As quickly as he had touched her, he pulled away. Gracefully, he sank to his knees in front of her. His hands held her hips. His fingers ran over her belt.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She nodded, quick and hard. "Do it."

His fingers worked quickly, unfastening the buckle and pulling the belt through the loops of her pants. She stood stock-still, but no fire of anger and fear raced through her. She smiled down at him through trembling lips, tears threatening to spill over her lids.

"Now the pants. Please."

In a dead silence, Edward undid the clasp of her leather pants. It parted effortlessly, and he pulled down the zipper, exposing a triangle of white lace. He pulled at the waistband, but the leather pants refused to move.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Do women have to wear these things so tight?"

"They do if they want to look good. Who wears baggy leather?" Suddenly Olivia was kneeling behind Chloe. He had nearly forgotten her. Working together, the wrestled the stubborn garment over her hips and down to her knees.

"Damn. You've got a fine ass, girl," she said. Her greedy hands roamed over the curves of Chloe's hips, and her lips dotted kisses on her butt-cheeks. "And a white lace thong? I didn't know you had it in you. I would have pegged you for a commando girl." She inhaled deeply, her nose drinking deep of her scent as Chloe laughed.

"You just wanted to touch my butt," Chloe teased. "Pervert."

"Guilty," Olivia said cheerfully. "But I think I should leave you two alone. Of course, if you want any help..." She trailed off suggestively.

"Get on out of here," Edward said gruffly. He stood and gave her a rib-crushing hug. "I'm glad I went out for a beer last night," he whispered into her hair. "It's one of the best ideas I've had in years. Thank you."

"No," she said. "Thank you. If I hadn't met you, I would never have known how deep my abilities went. You two be good to each other," she said, clasping their hands.

"We will." Chloe's eyes were sparkling. "And who knows? Once we get used to each other, we might invite you over some night. Or some day. It's obvious you're lusting over my tender young body. And I already know how well you and Edward get along." She squeezed her hand.

Olivia giggled, her eyes wicked. "That's a date. Now go on with you two. Make love. Be happy. I'll see you soon." With a last wave she turned and walked away. The door closed and locked behind her.

****

"So, here we are," Edward said. He looked away, suddenly feeling very awkward. He looked down at his worn shoes, his faded jeans, his beige t-shirt. For years, he had tried to deflect attention; to turn other eyes away. Now he stood in the middle of an apartment which probably cost more in rent than he made in a year, with a beautiful, blue-haired punk-rocker in front of him, asking him to take her to bed.

You're not worthy of her, a hateful voice whispered in his head. Look at you. Now look at her. It's ridiculous. She's incredible, and you're...you. Why do you think you deserve a woman as beautiful as she is? Stop embarrassing yourself and leave while you still have some dignity.

He recognized the voice. It was his own. For three years, the same litany of self-disgust had run through his mind every time he tried to break his curse of impotence. How many times had he sat in the dark, hating himself, hating his life, while that soft voice mocked him?

"Edward?"

He looked up. Chloe stood in front of him. Her face was uncertain. Edward suddenly realized she was as worried as he was. Rejection as a teenager, followed by three hollow, empty years after the Change, had made her fragile and achingly vulnerable.

"She cured me," she said, the tone making the statement almost a question.

"She cured me," he replied. Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both grinning like loons.

"She cured us!"

Edward bent and caught her around the waist. With a victorious shout he lifted her high in the air, slowly spinning in place. Her bright blue hair floated around her shoulders as she laughed down at him. She swatted at him with her hands.

"Put me down, you doofus! Before your skinny ass drops me!"

He lowered her to the floor and looked at her, his face serious.

"Are you sure about this? About making love? I know she says we're right for each other, but..."

"Yes." she said. "I'm done waiting." She lowered her hand to his groin, rubbing softly.

"Listen to me, you skinny dope," she continued. "There's a reason why Olivia Lee is the sexual protector of Des Moines. And it isn't just because of her face and her tits and her ass. I've done my research on her. By my count, she has introduced one hundred and thirty-seven people to each other. Do you know how many are still together? One hundred and thirty-five. Two have died. That's it. No divorces, no separations. Nada."

"One hundred and thirty-five? Wait..."

"Yes, Edward. It's an odd number." Her lips quirked. "Apparently there are four threesomes and one clan marriage with five members."

"Oh." Edward blushed, heat turning his neck and face red. "That's...interesting."

"So if the Seductress says we're right for each other, we are.

"So are you going to take me to bed? Or not?"

"I am."

*****

"Wow," Edward said.

The bedroom was huge. Carpeting, dark blue, so thick he could feel his feet sinking into it, covered the floor. An enormous four-poster bed dominated one corner, set against windows which looked west and south. It was covered in dark red sheets and pillows. Chloe hopped into it and sat back on her heels. Her pale body seemed to glow with its own inner light.

"Well?" she said with a smile. "Take your clothes off, lover boy. Let me see what got the infamous Seductress all hot and bothered."

Edward gave a crooked grin and bowed humorously. "At your command, my lady." He slowly removed his clothes, trying not to feel strange. It had been so long since he had been in another woman's bedroom. Sad experience had taught him to expect the worst in this situation.

Chloe's eyes, however, were eager and curious. For the first time, Edward thought he was seeing the girl she had been, before the Change had ruined her life. She had reclaimed her own identity, and her open, simple enthusiasm was infectious. Her remarks were no longer bitingly vicious. Instead, there was a thread of gentle, teasing humor, meant to make him laugh at himself.

And if I can't laugh at myself, who can I laugh at?

He pulled off his jeans, hesitated over his boxers, then finally took those off as well. Chloe had given him her trust by stripping down to her panties in front of both him and Olivia. It would be the least he could do to return that trust.

Her lay down beside her. "So," he said. "How would you like to start?"

She ducked her head, suddenly shy. "I don't know," she said softly. "I've never done this before. Will it hurt?"

Edward blinked, recalling her words from earlier. He had almost forgotten she was a virgin. "I'll try to make sure it doesn't. The most important thing," he said, "is whether you've broken your hymen. Do you know if you have?"

"Yes. I did." She looked up, her eyes twinkling. "I slipped on my brother's bike and racked myself when I was thirteen." Edward winced in sympathy. "I know it isn't as bad for girls as it is for boys, but damn, it hurt. When I saw the blood in my panties later I completely freaked and ran to my mother. I thought I was bleeding internally or something. She explained it to me. Which was a relief in more ways than one. She told me I was lucky, and that it would make things easier my first time."