Book Two Wylan: Chapter 4
Fairy Drug Mother
Chapter 4: Fairy Drug Mother
September 2013
Wylan heard the music before he saw the warehouse. Fae raves always had the same music. If ordinary human ears heard it, the listener would be swept up in such ecstasy that they’d dance, dance, dance until they died. Or at least until the music stopped.
Maybe out of respect for humans, but more likely out of convenience, this one was on the outskirts of a grungy city.
It was less than atmospheric with plastic bags choking the trees, trash heaped up on the streets, rusted and battered old cars, and tall metal smokestacks pumping out thick gray columns of smoke.
If Wen thought Wylan reeked, Wylan could imagine Wen’s reaction to the odors of this place.
Wylan confidently strode up to the bouncer, a towering, hulking Redcap, guarding the entrance and was let in without any fuss. Amberley must’ve told him Wylan was coming.
Immediately upon stepping foot into the warehouse, the beat of the music bashed into Wylan’s body. There was so much to see. From the colorful lightshow and spinning disco ball that pulsed and flashed along with the electronic music, to the mobs of fae and other creatures dancing, to the trio of Siren women crooning into mics on stage wearing strapless dresses that allowed their wings to flutter to the beat.
Wylan could stand there and watch the rave goers forever. But he wasn’t here to fae and creature watch. He was here for one person only. Amberley. It took asking around to find out that she was upstairs in the loft portion of the warehouse with her usual posse.
They didn’t bat an eye at Wylan’s appearance and parted so Wylan could approach his fairy drug mother.
“Amberley!” Wylan went to pull the flower fae into an embrace.
Her plump purple lips parted into a smile. She wore a crushed velvet, strappy purple dress that matched her lips. Her silky hair was pulled up and showed off her rose bud shaped ears.
The rumbling growls of the chihuahua-sized creature in her boxy purse stopped Wylan where he stood. It was the same one that Amberley toted around the first time Wylan met her. It had a smushed in face and an underbite that showed off its jagged, needle-like, corn yellow teeth.
“Now, now, Trefoil, Wylan is a friend,” Amberley chastised the creature.
“It’s been too long,” Amberley sighed. She air kissed both of Wylan’s cheeks. “Where’ve you been?”
“Around,” Wylan said vaguely, grinning back at the flower fae.
“So what can I get for you tonight? I know how much you like your dusts,” Amberley beamed. “I’ve got fresh batches. I’ve also got something new on the menu. It’s a blend of two of my most potent dusts: stardust and supernova.”
“You can blend them together? Oh fuck yes,” Wylan was practically jumping out of his skin imagining how much that shit would make his night. Hell, it’d made his month.
“I call it starbomb. It doesn’t have even a speck of powdered moonstone in it either. It’s pure,” Amberley said tantalizingly.
“One bag puh-lease,” Wylan groaned, ready to get his hands on it.
“You’re one of my favorites, so I can give it to you for three fifty,” Amberley said.
Three hundred and fifty dollars? Wylan died a little inside. He had a crumpled twenty and five in his wallet, but that was all he had to his name. Period.
“About that,” Wylan started slowly.
As if sensing what Wylan was about to pitch, Trefoil started to growl again.
“I was thinking, I could dance. Give the guys here a night they’ll never forget,” Wylan said confidently.
“Dance,” Amberely repeated. This time she wasn’t smiling.
“You know how I can dance, Amberley,” Wylan said, still trying to convince the flower fae.
Amberely’s purple lips puckered. She tapped a vine-y finger on her chin.
It felt like an hour before Amberley finally said, “Fine. But only this once,” she held her pointer finger up. “The next time I see your face begging me for my stash, you’ll show me the money.”
“Absolutely,” Wylan confirmed. If he was a Boy Scout like Wen was he’d do the scout’s honor pose.
Amberley drifted over to a large squashy couch where another boxy purse, that one bubble gum pink, was being babysat by an almost comically muscular man. A stone elemental, no doubt. Amberley rifled around inside the purse. It was probably enchanted by a witch or warlock to be bottomless, because there’s no way the flower fae could keep her entire stock in such a small bag.
“Aha!” She cheered, pulling up a small bag. She passed it over to Wylan.
It looked like glittery, rainbow sugar crystals. Wylan plunged his finger into the gritty granules and rubbed them all over his gums. He didn’t stop until the whole baggy was empty. He exhaled a sigh of relief and anticipation about what’s to come.
As he was starting to think about how long it would take to kick in, everything around him turned rainbow. Then the walls, Amberley, Trefoil, everyone and everything around Wylan sparkled like it was covered in glitter.
His heart thudded in his chest the same way it did when he was on a roller coaster. He felt just as exhilarated as if he was looping upside down and all around.
Notes from the music and the Siren song popped up in the air at all once. They bobbed around him like balloons. He swatted one out of the way and it stuck to his skin. An electric jolt pulsed through him, making him tingle all over in the best way. He whooped in joy and danced around them, slapping them this way and that for more of those delicious tingles.
“You promised a dance,” Amberley’s voice said, echoing around Wylan like he was standing in a tunnel. Her smiling face turned into a crater-covered moon, her eyes into burning stars. Her mouth was a galaxy full of whirling, white-hot light.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I did!” he heard himself cheer. He raced down the loft’s metal stairs. He couldn’t feel his feet on the ground. He didn’t have feet at all anymore. What the hell were feet? He floated and soared and drifted with the music. Taking to the air like a butterfly, he was unstoppable. He couldn’t be contained by gravity.
Another flower fae, this one a guy yanked Wylan in for a dance. Behind him a water fae stepped up, sandwiching Wylan between him and the flower fae. The more the merrier! Wylan thought gleefully. He spun, dancing with one, then the other.
A fire fae burning with jealousy over being left out of the dance stormed over to the dancing trio. He was steaming with a real I’mma-fuck-you-up energy, and the flower fae and water fae quickly split in search of a new partner.
Awe, he likes me, Wylan thought blissfully as the fire fae seized his arms.
“You’re not human, but you’re not fae. What are you?” The fire fae demanded. His red eyes turned into spinning rubies.
“Your dream come to life,” Wylan breathed, melting into the fire fae’s hold. But he wouldn’t be restrained.
Wylan spun around and around and around. If he went any faster, he’d soar up into the air.
The fire fae didn’t have time for Wylan’s dizzying dance and snatched at his arms again. Wylan’s arms burned up, the heat scorching into his skin. He lifted their arms up together so he could rub one of his arms against the bobbing music notes floating in the air around him.
He tingled and smouldered and danced, danced, danced.
When the fire fae released Wylan’s hands, Wylan tried something new. Two of the notes spinning around him were shiny and ripe like summer strawberries. Wylan salivated. He slapped them together into a sticky sandwich. He bit into it and syrupy, gluey, jam burst into his mouth. He groaned. It was the sweetest thing he ever tasted. He needed more.
The Sirens sang about dancing in heaven. Wylan couldn’t agree more. He went to eat more of the music, grooving away from the fire fae to get closer to the stage and more of the plump, shiny notes, but the fire fae wasn’t done with him.
“Nuh-uh,” the fire fae hissed.
Yuh-huh, Wylan tried to say back, but he couldn’t string together the words.
He hailed over two other fire faes. They danced behind Wylan, keeping him standing in place. The fire fae ran his hands up and down Wylan’s body. He jerked at Wylan’s jeans. His fingers probed at the gap between the fabric and Wylan’s skin, starting to yank them down.
Don’t touch me, Wylan wanted to say, but his tongue felt like a thousand pounds in his mouth. His body still moving and grooving to the erratic beat, but the dust was wearing off. Wylan was crashing back into his body and he didn’t like where he was. He wanted to shove the fire fae away, but his arms didn’t want to work.
“ENOUGH!” A voice behind Wylan boomed. It was yellow and spiky, and the nearby balloon-like music notes violently popped.
“LEAVE HIM ALONE,” the voice continued. The spikes from the voice were dagger sized and shaped. Wylan yelped and swerved away from them. He didn’t need to get ripped to shreds.
The bodies around Wylan continued to dance as if nothing was happening.
“YOU’RE DONE! ALL OF YOU!” the voice demanded.
“Wanna bet?” The fire fae smirked, starting to drag Wylan’s pants down.
The voice didn’t have anything to say to that… it howled…the kind of furious, cold, howl that cut straight to the bone. Wylan shivered.
Screaming erupted around him. He was crashing hard from the dust. Everything around him moved like it was in slow motion. The panic was muted, blurred. Wylan was floating above his body.
Hands grabbed his and yanked him along. Wylan didn’t fight it. It felt different than the fire fae. Urgent, but not hungry. They followed the crushing wave of fae spilling out of the warehouse, desperate to flee.
Out in the parking lot, Wylan shivered and gasped for air. He staggered like he was on a boat floating over choppy waves.
Dance, dance, dance, a manic part of him urged, and he did, throwing up his arms like he was on a roller coaster and crookedly whirling in a lopsided circle. He couldn’t stop moving. He clapped his hands together and grooved to the side this way and that.
I’m good, I’m so good, I’m so so so good, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words to come out in a human language.
Then there was a face in front of him, and two hands holding his bobbing head stationary.
It was his face staring back. It was his face but with eyes that were round and glinting like they were covered in crystals. No. Not crystals. They were glasses.
It was Wen.
“Wylan! Hey! Wylan!” Wen barked, snapping his fingers in front of Wylan’s face.
“Ha,” Wylan murmured. He tried to imitate the snap, but his fingers weren’t working.
“Come on. Let’s go. My car is this way,” Wen said roughly.
What the hell was a car?
“You popped the music,” Wylan slurred out, swaying where he stood. “And you went, awhoo,” he clumsily imitated his twin’s howl.
“You were about to—”
“And you came to rescue me in your Dolly Parton jammies,” Wylan slurred.
***
Wylan woke up feeling like he had been hit by a truck. He was on a couch and hurled into a trash can that was conveniently placed within barfing distance.
For someone who only ate a squished veggie burger and a side of fries, there was a lot of puke spewing out of his body. When it finally stopped, Wylan flopped backwards onto the couch. He groped around behind his head to straighten the pillows, and his fingers bumped against a glass. It was a cup of water, also conveniently placed on the side table.
Eager to get the remaining chunky bits out of his mouth and to clear the sour taste, Wylan zealously rinsed his mouth, spitting the water into the bucket of barf.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his pulsing head. It felt like a chisel was digging into his brain. This was always the worst part about coming down from dust. But still. Was a few hours of being violently ill worth the the high? Yeah. Definitely.
Wylan groaned again and squirmed back into a lying-down position.
“Wait … where the hell am I?” Wylan murmured. A couch in someone’s living room. No. Wait. Not just any couch in any living room. It was Wen’s.
As if summoned by magic (or more likely, Wylan’s violent hurling) Wen appeared in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing Dolly Parton pajamas but one of his usual argyle sweaters. He held another glass of water. “Need more?”
Wylan eagerly reached out for the cup. Now that his mouth was mostly puke-less, he gulped down half of the cup. “I thought I wasn’t stepping foot in this house,” Wylan said, imitating his brother’s tone.
“Things … changed,” Wen said reluctantly.
“I was fine ya know. I was having a good time until you came busting in, howling like a maniac. You’ve never cared about who I hook up with before. What changed?” Wylan challenged.
“Hooking up and what happened last night are two very different things, Wylan. A friend texted me that he thought you were in trouble,” Wen said.
“I wasn’t ‘in trouble’,” Wylan insisted. It was that fire elemental cashier from the Edgy Veggie I bet. Guess the dude was looking out for me.
“Agree to disagree,” Wen said.
“Oh, fuck off, Wen,” Wylan flipped him off. “What’s your pack going to do to them anyway?”
Did Wen need to be so werewolfy about it all? It was always werewolf this, werewolf that, when they were kids. Wen was really one to talk about people not changing. This was just the same as it ever was.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wen said. “Just know that it’s handled.”
“It’s cute that you think I’d be worried about shit like that. Where is Cayden anyway? It’s not like him to miss out on the action.”
“My addict brother throwing his guts up is hardly action, Wylan, and Cayden doesn’t live here,” Wen said bluntly.
“You guys break up or something?” Wylan asked, raising his eyebrows.
“No. He’s still living at the packlands, and I live there with him most of the time,” Wen said.
“Well, that makes no sense, like, at all,” Wylan said.
“It’s complicated, okay?” Wen said impatiently.
A massive fluffy brown and white cat trotted into the room. It looked like it was more fluff than fat, but it still put the “oh lawd he comin” meme into Wylan’s head and he snickered.
Oh, great. Now it’s looking at me. Maybe if I ignore it, it’ll go away.
“Her name is Mary Shelley,” Wen said, as if reading Wylan’s thoughts. “She loves head scratches.”
“Well, I don’t,” Wylan beamed, trying to not squirm. He didn’t remember a cat when he busted into Wen’s house a few years ago. This was unexpected.
The cat eagerly sniffed around Wylan. He doubled down on ignoring her. He didn’t do cats. Not anymore.
“Anyways, I have something for you,” Wen pulled out his wallet and passed a colorful card over to Wylan.
“A credit card?” Wylan gushed. He couldn’t wait to go to town with it.
“Not exactly,” Wen said.
Wylan took a closer look at the card. It had a shopping basket with a cartoon drawing of milk, eggs, and bananas on it. SHOP SMART! was written above it in balloon letters.
“What the hell is this?” Wylan waved it.
“It’s a gift card to Shop Smart loaded up with $50 for you to buy groceries. I’ll check the balance periodically and refill it when I notice it getting low. There’s no way I’m giving you my credit cards or cash, Wylan. Not until you earn my trust,” Wen said.
He’s got a point. If he gave me cash, I’d probably give some to Amberley for my next hit. That is, if I’m not on her permanent shit list.
“I have this for you, too,” Wen passed Wylan a folded piece of paper.
“The fuck is this?” Wylan pinched it between his fingers like it was covered in shit.
“It’s a contract. If you want to stay here with me, you need to follow these conditions,” Wen said patiently.
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