The Divine Gambit Ch. 13

As such, the body she used here didn't just look like stone -- it was actual stone, animated and given sentience through the pervasive natural magic on earth. Liane was a ton of solid mineral. To go anywhere in civilization, especially into less-prepared and potentially mundane lands, she had to take precautions. She regularly polished her body, because much like a human shed old skin and hair, she shed flakes of stone and pebbles. And where skin and hair had a maximum impact of being gross, loose stone in a building could end up scratching and damaging surfaces. So she polished her body regularly, sloughing off her extremities and trimming her form down to a sheen. It had the added benefit of making her look as though she was wearing intricate makeup, blurring the lines between the hidden reality and the lies told to mundane humans and adding to the mystique of the club's atmosphere.

Two more girls joined us as we neared the club, with starkly contrasting dispositions. A broody heterochromatic brunette was introduced to me as Jess, a security analyst who worked with Zoey sometimes. It was later explained to me that her job was to break into the places Zoey's organization protected and then to explain how she did it and what could be reasonably improved. Her eyes kept looking around as we made small talk outside the club, not as though she was actually looking for something but like she was listening to someone I couldn't hear. As we walked towards the entrance, I noticed that the arm she wasn't holding her partner with was entirely prosthetic. The false arm seemed to be so developed that it went beyond returning her otherwise missing capabilities. I probably wouldn't have even noticed if she hadn't incorporated enough RGB lighting for a gaming peripheral advertisement photoshoot because her actions were perfectly smooth and natural, hiding any suggestion that she had once been severely injured.

Jess's companion was introduced as Rosa. She was a contradiction of sorts. The smile on her face could light up the entire city, and she was full of life and enthusiasm. She seemed to have some kind of disability as well, and Jess was practically smothering her with assistance. Rosa took Jess's doting attention in stride, occasionally teasing the other woman about how attentive she was. The two seemed to make a good pairing, in my juvenile estimations. Rosa's dusky, mocha skin perfectly contradicted Jess's ghostly pale, and her unflinching positivity balanced Jess's morose, dry outlook.

Outside the club, the music was already blaring louder than it had at Sophie's place. I was mildly surprised because we were still pretty early into the night. There wasn't even a line outside. The bouncer took one look at our gender imbalanced group, measured me in his mind to see if I was going to cause problems, and then let us all in without a question. He did do a double take when he saw Beth, but as had been predicted, he didn't even say anything.

The club was different from what I had expected, not that I had any reason to have expectations. The ground level we had just entered turned out to be the level with the VIP booths and other more relaxed seating, running a ring of balconies over a recessed, lower level. The basement level had a handful of high-top tables and bar stools, but most of the space was dedicated to the dance area and DJ setup. Even though there was music playing, it appeared to be an automated set list before the DJ got properly started, and there were only a handful of people dancing currently.

Along one wall was a massive bar that appeared to my less-than-experienced eye like three or four typical bars attached end to end. I supposed that with the number of people potentially crammed into the floor, having greater throughput for serving drinks would be necessary.

Chelsea purportedly knew the owner, and she went down an unmarked hallway above the bar to let them know we were here and to request one of the VIP booths for our party. It seemed odd to me, but I didn't know any better. Liane whispered to me that Chelsea actually was the owner and she was just going to talk to the night manager, but I couldn't tell if she was telling the truth or just having me on through her flirty, coquettish behavior.

The rest of our group went down the stairs to the bar. When we got there, the bored, not ready to start his shift yet bartender recognized our group. Zoey and her friends quickly got their first drinks of the night ordered and received, and Chelsea rejoined our group. The imposing woman requested something special, and the bartender had to go hunting for a specific bottle to meet her request. Zoey, evidently looking to drink tonight, took a shot of what Chelsea had ordered in addition to her own brightly colored beverage. Chelsea, not to be outdone, collected a stein of the dark liquid.

I ordered a jack and coke. I wasn't really looking to drink, but I was curious about how alcohol would affect me. Would my newfound internal healing reject the alcohol in the drink because I knew it functioned like poison? Would I metabolize it at all? If I did internalize it, how would alcohol affect me now that I was larger than I had been before? I wouldn't mind having some of those answers, but I wouldn't chase them tonight. A single drink would do just fine, and I would either have my knowledge or would seek it at a more opportune time.

Beth ordered a cherry limeade, and Sam asked for just a coke. When I asked about paying, I was politely informed that "the Lady Chelsea" would cover our expenses for the evening, reinforcing my contentment with ordering light. Dining out on someone else's tab didn't feel right. I was surprised when the dragon agreed, although it was out of pride. He reminded me that we should be capable of taking care of our mates and our own desires. He then asked when I would be progressing on the debt I had accrued already. I ignored him. Progress would have to wait until after the leader's meeting tomorrow.

Chelsea led us back to one of the roped-off booths upstairs. The massive cushioned seat wrapped around a circular table as neon lighting strips in the floor danced to the beat of the music. Thankfully, back up here, the music was almost as muted as it had been outside, loud and omnipresent without being oppressive. I had no doubts that when the DJ actually started their set and more people showed up, it would be even louder, but for now, it was tolerable.

I sat down in the booth, looking to sip my drink for a moment and catch my bearings. Beth and Sam joined me, and most of the other girls did as well. Jess and Rosa went to dance together right away. It was explained to me that this was the norm for them -- Rosa didn't have the stamina to dance all night, and her cerebral complications led to her being slightly less precise in her movements than she wanted to be, so she and Jess would dance while the floor was still sparsely populated. Then they'd return to the booth, and people watch while "holding down the fort," keeping an eye on everyone's drinks and belongings.

Zoey had other ideas and interrupted my momentary relaxation by summarily asking if Sam would mind dancing with her. It wasn't a very subtle attempt to talk to one of my girlfriends alone but to be fair, Zoey wasn't ever the queen of subtlety. Sam accepted the request, and the pair of my childhood friends walked down the stairs back to the dance floor. Zoey's drink was conspicuously left on the table, only melting ice remaining in the glass despite only having been poured perhaps a minute ago.

A few minutes of barely audible inane chatter later, Eva asked me if it would be alright if she danced with Beth. Beth shrugged, and the two petite brunettes departed, Eva's tail wrapped around Beth's waist. I had expected Mallory to ask to dance with Beth, with a slight consideration that Sophie would. It was surprising that Eva asked, especially given that I smelled no guilt or any other emotion besides unfiltered joy from her. As far as I could tell, she just wanted to dance with Beth, no distraction or guile intended.

Separating me from Beth and Sam and getting me to interact with a bunch of her friends while Mallory and Zoey took turns interrogating my two companions seemed like a reasonable course, given Zoey's concerns. Despite my dragon's pestering, I wasn't really offended by the rigamarole. I wanted Zoey to feel comfortable with me. Having me go through a trial by fire and interrogation from her friends wasn't the worst thing I had ever been subjected to. Especially when her friends included a salacious oread and an elf that must have had professional dancing experience at some point.

Only a few minutes after Eva and Beth departed, Liane took me by the hand and led me to the dance floor. I immediately understood why she needed special consideration with her body when she started grinding on me to the bass pounding throughout the building, her body feeling like warm glass against my skin. Despite looking like Beth in a costume, she had enough strength and mass that the first time she pressed her ass into me, I nearly tumbled over. Once I got my bearings and used to the firm touch Liane wanted from me, I wondered how much preparation Sophie had to do to allow Liane into her apartment.

That was how the majority of my evening went. I had expected a more verbal interrogation, but I suppose, in retrospect, thinking we would have a friendly chat at a club was naive. Instead, one of Zoey's friends would take my hand, drag me to their desired location on the now overfull dance floor, and grind with me unabashedly for several tracks. I would be given a moment's reprieve, have a sip of my drink, listen to a teasing comment from the ever-observing quick-witted Rosa, and then be collected by the following name on my dance card. The girls had built up a queue of their own at the table, seemingly content to dance exclusively with the massive man who would only go as far as they wanted to and had no expectations for later in the night.

It wasn't unpleasant, and I found myself intrigued at how I wasn't really fazed by the constant physical exertions. Not that I was out of shape, but even the charmingly unrefined club dancing I was doing typically took some energy out of you. Antonin was definitely right when he suggested that I could gather energy from something other than material collections because I was gathering plenty here. The only unpleasant factor of the evening was that I wasn't allowed to spend time with Beth, Sam, or even Zoey for the first few hours.

It was late when I was able to have my first time alone with Beth. She was energetic and spunky in her bumping and shaking, but because of our height difference, it didn't end up being all that engaging for me. She seemed to enjoy the size discrepancy, practically standing between my legs and guiding my hands wherever she wanted to be touched.

It was only two tracks later that Sam was returned to me. Rather than the still energized younger girl, she looked absolutely beaten and tired. She took to straddling the other side of my body, sharing with Beth, but moved at half the beat of the music, lazily rubbing against me. She whispered in my ear that her feet were sore and that she would be very happy to go home as soon as possible. Beth added that she didn't mind dancing more but was content to go whenever I wanted to.

Before the three of us had even retreated from the dance floor to announce our departure, an intoxicated Zoey intercepted us and asked if she could have me for a few songs. A clearly annoyed Sam found an excuse to use the bathrooms, telling a somewhat oblivious Zoey that she could have her few songs and then we would be going for the night. Beth was pulled by the redhead to the bathrooms, giving me a confused look as she departed.

Much to my surprise, the leggy blonde wrapped her arms around my neck and started sensually, slowly grinding on me. She didn't say anything, just pressing her body against mine, and she allowed her face to lay against my shoulder. Her breath was hot on my skin as she panted into my collar. My arms naturally found their place around her, although they must've been too conservative for her tastes, as she dragged it from the small of her back to be blatantly on her ass. She sighed hard when I left it where it was, neither retreating nor using it as an excuse to grope her. I had absolutely no idea what she was looking for here, giving me the cold shoulder all night before practically climbing me like I was a schoolyard jungle gym.

Over the raucous din of the club, she slurred into my ear, "I talked a lot with your girls. I'm sorry about tonight. About separating you from them. They weren't happy about it."

Pressing my chin down and my jaw to the side of her face, I spoke back, hoping she would hear me, "It's -- I don't want to say it's okay, because I didn't like it, and I don't ever want to do it again, but I understand why you needed to do it."

As the current track faded out and the noise became bearable, Zoey lifted her face to mine and kissed me. She started off sloppy, imprecise, and unsure of herself, as the best she was capable of in her intoxicated state was simply mashing her face into mine. Like everything that had occurred this evening, it wasn't inherently unpleasant, but I wasn't sure how I felt about the attached baggage.

As the next track was buffered in, and the DJ seamlessly shifted from one rhythm to the next, Zoey continued our lip lock, grinding herself against my torso and pulling one of my hands to her chest. Almost against my will, I was given the opportunity to feel, in explicit detail due to the sheerness of her top, Zoey's left breast as she pressed my hand firmly into her body. Despite having actually seen her naked in the pool, I was surprised at how much of my hand it filled. Zoey was incredibly lean and athletic, and the majority of the time I had seen her, her top had been compressed by a restrictive sports bra, in which she had looked comparable to Beth. Zoey was obviously less well-endowed than Sam, but there was some heft to her that caught me off guard. I was also surprised by the diamond tip cutting into my palm, Zoey's fleshy nub clearly unencumbered with a bra tonight.

She murmured contentedly as I accepted my fate and explored her body where she forced me to. The music melted into the background, and the jostling of the people around us was lost to me as my hands surveyed the Amazon who was to be my next mate, my dragon yearning for me to reach out and claim her now, to carry her home with us and bind her forever in our own way.

Instead, I was caught off guard when she sharply inhaled and withdrew from my touch.

Her eyes no longer had the vacant haze of someone under the influence, nor was she leaning quite so heavily against me. Her pale, colorless irises searched my face desperately for something, bouncing to the beat of the song. Zoey fumbled a question out of her mouth, barely audible over the climax of the current song.

"Do you love them?"

I sighed.

I'd been trying to figure out how to answer that question myself.

Beth had told me she loved me. However, she had then revealed that her practically begging for my attention had been more pragmatic than emotionally driven -- she acted like she was madly head over heels in order to not be discarded. She had read my nature like a book and intentionally exploited it for her own well-being. She wasn't going out of her way to hurt me, just to ensure her own life. Still, the lie stung, even with how quickly she came clean about it and how it had been a necessary part of her life.

Of course, since then, some of the trauma that had caused her to feel those actions were necessary had been addressed. She seemed to genuinely enjoy being around me and actively wanted to pursue our relationship. The strange circumstances of our connection combined with her somewhat exploitative inclination for physical contact to work both ways, conditioning her to enjoy my presence as much as manipulating me. I enjoyed being around her and how upfront she had been after dropping the plotting, and she had someone she felt safe enough to let her cynical scheming fall to the wayside for. She was still somewhat needy, at least beyond my nonexistent standards, but given the permanence of our bond and the shared emotional resonance, I would be a fool not to give the pairing a chance. It was like our connection had been designed to smooth out her bumps, and she could undoubtedly inspire me to greater heights than the dead-end 9-to-5 I was otherwise heading for. Hell, without her altercation catching my attention, I might never have ended up in this position.

Sam was challenging for me to think about. She was definitely someone I had developed a crush on when she was a tough, skinny fourteen-year-old and I was a dumb kid who didn't understand his own thoughts. Since then, she had left my life, matured into a beautiful woman, and chased the beginnings of a career in lieu of anything else. I was still very fond of the idea of the girl I had known in school, and seeing her adult form in front of me tugged on those well-rooted threads.

With that said, it turned out that she wasn't actually that person. It was a mask worn to try and make her social life bearable and reduce the magnitude of her standing as a pariah. I could also come to terms with my juvenile attraction being, at least somewhat, borne out of familiarity. She was around and sought me out because no one in her community would give her the time of day. Looking at her now, thinking about my emotions, felt like chasing a ghost. How much of my enamorment was a lie, predicated on the mounds of deceptions she had been forced to feed me? It was difficult to reconcile.

With both women, I could recognize the beginnings of love. I liked them. I trusted them more than strangers but less than I should trust people to whom I was functionally married. Unfortunately, when my world had been utterly upended and I learned everything was a partial truth at best, trust was in short supply. Despite those reservations, I had been intimate with them. The three of us were compatible, and even though it hadn't been a full day since Sam's romantic induction, it seemed the three of us were compatible as a whole rather than a triangle of pairings. But there were asterisks attached to both of them. Neither came without a confusing level of complications that made me resist immediately responding affirmatively. And that was only from the things that I knew -- given the brevity of our relationship so far, there were bound to be things I didn't know and didn't know I was unaware of.

In the end, I gave the only answer I was capable of providing.

"I don't know. I think I could, but I've only known them, the real them, for a week. My mess of a life makes it likely that I will grow to love and care for them with all of my heart, but I wouldn't be comfortable saying that I do already today. It's been a week, and my entire life has been turned upside down."

I hadn't expected to be able to recognize any emotion from Zoey. In the surging crowd, any individual was likely to be overwhelmed, muted and masked by the sheer volume of generally pleasant, amorous individuals surrounding them. As I answered her question, guilt and shame came through the cacophony of people around us, standing out even in the masses in sharp contrast to the diluted background with its piercing intensity. Zoey was ashamed and embarrassed about something, and she only seemed to feel it as I answered her.

She could no longer meet my gaze. She wasn't the intensely focused, dangerously purposeful woman who had been coaching me in the gym. Neither had she shut down and turned into the cold, dispassionately robotic woman who rejected any attempt at connection like she had before. She seemed young, vulnerable, and tired, as if she had made a mess of things and was waiting for the balls she had in the air to come crashing down around her. It was a drastic shift.