The Blue Dragon: Chapter 5 (Patreon)

-- CHAPTER 5: The Fremont Troll --

****

As much as I would have liked to leave immediately and seduce a hot babe (or two) for the sake of testing the theory that having sex would help me develop other superpowers (y’know, for science), there was a higher-priority reason why Rae and I were in Seattle. Although we had obtained one key to the Faguang Long back in Chicago, Rae had made clear we would need to collect other relics before going after The Golden Dragon itself.

I expected Rae to call another Uber, but instead we went out for a walk. The Seattle sky was cloudy and moist, hinting at a rainstorm. Late autumn in Chicago had been fairly cool, temperature-wise. But today, Seattle was even colder.

No longer needing to hide her shapeshifting abilities from me, Rae had transformed her clothing into a Bohemian jacket, tassel scarf, and a lopsided beanie over a form-fitting turtleneck, ripped jeans, and cute ankle boots before we’d left. I, meanwhile, continued wearing the same clothes I’d worn on the flight from Chicago: graphic tee, hoodie sweatshirt, and reliable peacoat. One more day on the run and I’d run out of clothes, but at least our Airbnb had a washing machine and dryer.

After only a few blocks, the houses and occasional commercial buildings gave way to a small, wooded glen. It was a neighborhood park, really, in the shadow of a large highway overpass. A strange object off to the right caught my eye, which after a second glance I realized was a large, concrete turtle with a thick carpet of green moss growing on its shell, beneath a rudimentary canopy formed by thick bamboo poles.

A moment later, we came to an archway made of steel poles twisted to look like more like vines, with a sign that read, “Keep on Knollin’” at the top of the arch. But it was the gigantic object on the other side of the arch that really grabbed my attention.

The Fremont Troll was a world-famous sculpture in Seattle that I’d known about long before Rae dropped into my life. I’d never been to it before, but I’d always wanted to.

Actually, I’d first seen the troll in a viral internet video featuring this random guy named Matt Harding who had made a compilation of himself doing a weird chicken-dance in front of famous landmarks all over the world, including Seattle’s Fremont Troll. Constructed directly beneath the north end of the Aurora Bridge, the eighteen-foot-high concrete statue consisted of a humungous head, shoulders, two arms, and the hands of a large, bearded troll. Trapped beneath the troll’s left hand was an actual Volkswagen Beetle with California plates, as if the troll had seized the vehicle from the freeway above.

As typical for a Saturday afternoon at a bucket-list sightseeing spot, there were a number of people in front of the troll taking pictures. Rae stood back away from the crowd, silently observing the situation. And I leaned over towards her ear to ask softly, “Is this the location of the next key?”

“It’s not a key here; it’s a map,” Rae corrected quietly. “But yes, it’s here.”

I pursed my lips and watched the ebb and flow of the crowd for a moment. A family with three young kids had finished taking their photos, with the two smaller children standing on the troll’s right knuckles while the eldest (and most adventurous) boy had climbed onto the troll’s shoulder to strike an Usain Bolt pose. But although they were leaving, there were still two other groups waiting and ready to take their turn. And there was a young couple walking down the stairs from the roadway above us, the girl fluffing out her hair with an expression that said she was mentally composing the perfect Insta pic.

“Should we come back later?” I offered. “Maybe at night when there are fewer people around?”

Rae shook her head. “No. By now, they may have figured out we’ve already retrieved the blue crystal key. The longer we delay, the more time they will have to catch up to us and possibly even lay a trap.”

“So it’s possible that they’ve laid a trap here?”

“Possible, although unlikely.” Rae took a deep breath, her nervous expression belying her words. “Remember, we believe that the Cao Wei don’t know any of the locations for the hidden relics. That’s the whole point of hiding them around the world.”

“Fingers crossed they don’t know.”

“Further, the Cao Wei are more powerful at night, like when you were attacked on the Santa Monica Pier at sunset. There is a yin-yang balance between light and dark energies. Evil creatures like yaoguai, mogwai, and you hun ye gui thrive in the shadows, while good spirits - like me - enjoy the light.”

I waggled my head. “Makes sense.”

“So we are less likely to be interfered with if we do this during the day.” Rae glanced around. “Also, the Cao Wei don’t like to be noticed. They don’t like to draw attention to themselves.”

I looked skeptical. “You mean the way they contrived a situation to have a deadly viper bite me in front of fifty people at a public tourist spot and cause a big ruckus?”

Rae shrugged. “They won’t want to be noticed in any way that would reveal their existence to the outside world. Much like the Illuminati, the Cao Wei want the world to believe they are extinct. For your ‘big ruckus’, those fifty people went home believing a man got bitten by a snake, nothing more. Those that remained to observe watched you get checked out by a paramedic and allowed to walk back home. It’s not like men wearing ski masks shot you in broad daylight, causing a massive police investigation with yellow tape everywhere, and got put onto the evening news.”

I waggled my head. “Well if they wanted me dead, seems like shooting me would’ve still been easier.”

“Every action has karmic consequences. There are ancient ways of doing things - ways and methods that fit within the rules of engagement, so to speak. We are a magical world, and something so crude as a handgun doesn’t fit into that world.”

I frowned. “You mean I don’t need to worry about some assassin trying to shoot me?”

“Well…” Rae smirked. “Not with a gun at least.” And then she mimed drawing back a bow and arrow.

I arched an eyebrow at her, inclined to grill her a little further on the subject. But by then she was already gesturing towards the crowd around the troll, which was growing even more numerous, not less. And as she started walking forward to join them, I quickly fell into step with her.

“So because of all that,” Rae continued. “We’re actually better off with a bigger crowd. In this case, the more human eyes pointing at that big thing, the better.”

“Wait, what?”

Rae grinned. “You’ll see.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what Rae’s plan was, but she exuded confidence in what she was saying. I could tell from the way she kept scanning the people around us that she was still anxious about creatures of evil crashing the party, daylight or not, but she was definitely sure about being surrounded by lots of ordinary tourists being for the best.

Still surveying the crowd, she leaned over and said quietly, “When I tell you, I want you to open the trunk of the Beetle.”

I blinked twice and then gawked at her. “I’m sorry. What?!” While I knew the Volkswagen was a real car, it was still trapped and half-buried beneath a massive concrete sculpture, and I was dead-certain the trunk wouldn’t open.

Rae kept smiling and scanning the crowd, not even looking at me. “Well, actually it’s the engine compartment, since it’s a rear-engine vehicle, and the trunk is in the front. So that would be the ‘frunk’. But yeah, you see the back of the car there? I want you to open it. The map should be inside.”

“Umm, okay… Open it how?”

“It’s just like the Zellij Fountain. Grab the handle. It’ll recognize your blood, and you’ll be able to open it. Simple as that.”

“Not so simple,” I muttered. “I seem to recall the Zellij Fountain didn’t want to open up when it recognized that the security guard was about to come in.”

“This is different.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Now c’mon, we’re almost up.”

“What will I be looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I knew we would find some kind of key in the fountain, but I didn’t know it would be a blue crystal, and I don’t know exactly what we’re going to find here. Only that it’s supposed to be a map of some kind. You’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll figure it out?!” I asked rather doubtfully.

“You’ll have to figure it out. We’re up next.”

I sighed, wondering whether or not I should walk away so Rae and I could have more time to talk about this. But in the end, I stayed right where I was and gave her a look that clearly said, This had better work.

We’d been in a makeshift line of people waiting their turns to take photos. When a family of two parents and a teenage girl went next right in front of us, the girl used her phone to snap a few pics of her parents and then seemed inclined to walk away. But then Rae spoke up, offering, “Do you want us to take a photo of you with your parents?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” the girl replied immediately.

But the mom of the family spoke up, saying, “Oh yes, please! Thank you!”

The girl rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of resignation. With only a brief pause, she handed her bejeweled phone over to Rae and then walked over to join her parents between the troll’s hands. And the girl smiled dutifully (if not widely) while Rae snapped a half-dozen shots in landscape and then a couple in portrait just in case.

Rae then held up her phone, asking, “Would you mind taking some photos for us?”

“Of course! Certainly!” the mom offered, taking Rae’s phone and then promptly handing it off to her daughter, explaining, “She’s the expert.”

Once again, the girl rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of resignation.

Rae looped her arm around the crook of my elbow and then tugged me towards the troll like we were any other couple. She led me directly in front of the Beetle, which was slightly odd positioning as our bodies would block the view of the car. Most people either climbed onto the statue or stayed between its two hands. But I simply followed her lead, so when she turned around with her arm still wrapped around my elbow and smiled a pearly white smile for the teenage girl with the camera, I put on a wide grin as well.

And then Rae muttered through her teeth, “Okay. Open it.”

I hesitated. There were still a dozen people in the area, most of them looking right at us. Not that they cared to look at us, but rather they were just waiting their turns and wanted us to finish up and get out of the way so they could take their own photos, but still: they were looking right at us.

Still, Rae muttered again, “Aksel, open it.”

I couldn’t believe I was going to do it, but Rae’s tone brooked no dissent and I internally said to myself, The hell with it. Pulling my arm free from her grasp, I turned around, spotted the odd-looking divot where the engine compartment latch of the Beetle would be, and put my hand to it.

In all honesty, I absolutely didn’t expect a single thing to happen, magic or not. But as soon as I put my fingertips to the concrete, it seemed to melt away until I was able to grasp the latch. And before I even realized what I was doing, I had already started raising the door.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed in surprise.

“Hurry uh-uup…” Rae growled through her teeth.

I risked a quick glance back at her. She was still smiling for the camera, and that’s when I noticed that almost nothing about the crowd had changed. Oh, they weren’t frozen in time or anything. People were still milling about. Impatient kids ran amok. And a good number of those in line were still staring straight at us.

But not a single one of them reacted to the fact that I had the engine compartment door of the Beetle fully open.

“Could you please take just a few more?” Rae called sweetly. “My boyfriend somehow can never get things right, and I want a few more photos just to make sure he’s smiling right in at least one of them, you know?”

I realized quickly that Rae was stalling. Time was still passing, and I had taken too much of it already. At first, all I saw was an old, rusted Beetle engine. I wasn’t sure what to look for, and panic started to set in. But just when I was about to give up, a slight shimmer in the air caught my attention. I reminded me of a heat wave, the kind of optical distortion one might see above the scorching hot asphalt of a country road on a summer day. It was almost as if the long-buried Beetle’s engine was… well… running. And when I put my hand into the shimmering patch of air, my fingertips bumped into a smooth, rigid object.

“Thanks, we’ll just be getting out of your way now,” Rae said with a rather nervous chuckle. “One moment.”

Time was up. I closed my hand around whatever the object was, jerked it back, and then abruptly closed the engine compartment door. As soon as it slammed shut, Rae grabbed my arm and started walking off to the side, sliding her hand down until she could interlace our fingers together, and she basically dragged me over to the girl to retrieve her phone and then quickly away from the troll.

“Did you get it?” she hissed.

“How did you do that?” I asked at almost the same time. “All those people staring right at us. All those people who HAD to be able to see me opening the back of the Beetle.”

“I’m huli jing,” Rae muttered beneath her breath as we continued walking away from the others and towards the stairs leading up to the roadway. “I have the ability to create illusions. Think of it like looping the video playback of a security camera. So while you were rummaging around the back of the car, all they could see was the two of us smiling for the camera.”

“Whoa…” I breathed, feeling a bit like Neo marveling at Morpheus’s ability to leap across skyscrapers. “You can DO that?”

“Did you get it?” she asked impatiently.

“Yeah… I mean… I… I think so,” I muttered back.

“You think so?!” Rae exclaimed incredulously, turning to face me as soon as we got past the stairs and more or less moved out of sight. Then she grabbed my other wrist and turned my hand over.

When Rae first told me we were retrieving a map, I was expecting to collect a piece of paper. Instead, I held a rolled-up series of bamboo strips lined up side-by-side, each perforated with holes and then strung together with leather straps. Dozens of Chinese characters had been painted onto the bamboo, completely unintelligible to me. It didn’t exactly look like a “map” per se; more like an essay. Still, I knew this had to be the right object.

“It’s some kind of scroll.”

“They’re called bamboo ‘slips’,” Rae explained. “For centuries, these were the primary way of writing documents in China as paper hadn’t been invented yet.”

“What? Really?”

Rae nodded, mildly distracted still looking over the characters. “China wouldn’t invent paper until the first century A.D.”

“I thought the Egyptians invented paper.”

Rae shrugged. “The Egyptians invented papyrus, true enough. But what we know of as modern paper was invented by Cai Lun, an imperial eunuch of the Han Dynasty, in 105 A.D.”

“Pretty cool. But I went and watched this Oversimplified video of The Three Kingdoms on YouTube instead of working, and didn’t the Three Kingdoms period start around 220 A.D.? Paper would have been invented by then.”

“It would have,” Rae agreed. “But this document is far older than that.”

“Wow. How old? And can you read it?”

Rae narrowed her eyes and thumbed a few areas where the paint had been rubbed off. “I’m not sure how old, and I can read most of it.”

“Is it the map you were looking for? Because it doesn’t look much like a map.”

“It’s not a geographical map, but rather a series of descriptions and… well… riddles.”

“Riddles?”

“Stone soldiers stand guard over the glass chessboard. Sail silently among them. Past the elephant who would drink the river dry. Past the see-through mountain.”

I blinked twice. “Beg pardon?”

“It’s not exactly ‘X marks the spot’,” Rae agreed, looking chagrined. “I have to believe the other relics we need to retrieve will help make sense of this.”

I nodded. “Well, two down and… uh… how many more to go?”

“Two more. One for each cardinal direction.”

“North, South, East, and West?”

“Exactly. And we’ve now retrieved the relics identified for the East and the North.”

I arched my eyebrows. “Are the relics for West and South also here in America?”

Rae shook her head. “Not at all. The Zellij Fountain containing the crystal key was originally built in Morocco before being moved here. And this bamboo scroll was first hidden in India before it was discovered and then re-hidden right here.”

I glanced back in the direction of the Fremont Troll, frowning as I drawled, “Re-hidden in an American art installation.”

“Would you have guessed an ancient Chinese relic was buried within?”

“Never in a million years,” I conceded. “So where are the other two relics?”

“One is in Italy. The other in Japan.”

“Japan? I didn’t think the Chinese and Japanese got along, especially back in those days. Weren’t there a whole bunch of wars between them over the last couple millennia?”

“Wars come and go. Morocco, India, Italy, and Japan were all longtime trading partners with the Chinese, so it was easy to send agents with merchant caravans to hide away the relics.”

I nodded. “So where are we going next?”

“Italy first, then Japan, and finally to China to go after The Golden Dragon itself. And we should be able to get some help along the way.”

“Help?”

“There aren’t many of us operating in America. Had you and I run into trouble, we’d be on our own. But once we reach Europe we can meet up with allies who may be able to assist us. And in Asia there are even more.”

“Great. I feel like we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Perhaps. But understand that more help will be a double-edged sword.”

I frowned. “Meaning?”

“The closer we get to China - the closer we get to our goal - there will not only be greater numbers of allies, but also greater numbers of enemies.”

I winced, and Rae looked apologetic.

She glanced around for a moment, and then turned back to me with a grim expression, saying, “It will only get more difficult from here.”

****

Upon returning to our Airbnb, Rae told me she needed to make some calls and then went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. With nothing better to do, I went into my bedroom as well, sat on the bed, and opened my laptop.

I still didn’t want to do any work. Well, the part of me that liked getting paid for my work wanted me to do some work, knowing that I’d never get paid if I never turned anything in. Plus, I felt like I owed it to my employers to at least let them know that I would most likely be unable to finish the projects they’d assigned to me what with a shadowy cabal of magical assassins trying to murder me and jet-setting to Europe and then Asia over the coming days.

But I couldn’t quite get my brain into gear enough to compose those emails - not right now, at least - and I wound up checking on my social media feeds instead.

First up were my Instagram DM’s, of which I actually had quite a few. I hadn’t posted anything in a long time, but my Inbox had more than a dozen new messages. Some were the usual “What’s up?” exchanges I had with pretty girls who lived their lives on social media, posting selfies multiple times a day and who preferred to communicate via DM instead of texting. But three of the messages were from girls who had tried to text me over the past twenty-four hours only to receive back a message stating that their message couldn’t be delivered.

All three of them were semi-regular booty calls, and they each whined about me ghosting them. Not one worried that I might be dead or otherwise incapacitated. Feeling bad, I wanted to send them my new phone number. But the need for operational security demanded that I NOT send them my new number. Speaking of operational security, I checked to make sure I had my VPN on.

In the end, I copy/pasted a message to each of them stating that I was out of town and was currently working with a company phone that I couldn’t share, but that they could keep DM’ing me in the meantime. I promised that I’d let them know when I was back in Santa Monica and that we’d hook up.

One message was from Hannah Hampton, she of the spectacular swimsuit model body, sparkling green eyes, and supple lips custom-made for being wrapped around my dick. She’d posted a public Insta photo of herself doing a magazine shoot on some beach in the Mediterranean a few hours ago. But she’d DM’d me a more private photo of herself in the same location, blowing me a kiss and tugging down one of the bikini cups to expose a perfect pink nipple. The text read: Wish you were here.

I wished I was there, too.

“What are you doing?” Rae scolded from behind me, and I jumped in my seat like a teenager caught jerking off at his desk to internet porn, automatically minimizing the browser window.

“What?! What?!” I exclaimed in surprise, turning to face my open doorway.

Rae walked in, frowning. “Wait, you brought your laptop?!?” she asked incredulously.

I blinked twice before admitting somewhat guiltily. “Uh-uh, yeah… Was I not supposed to?”

“Is that connected to the internet?!” Rae exclaimed, marching up to the bed and grabbing the device from my lap.

“Hey, hey, relax. It’s VPN’d,” I insisted.

“Doesn’t matter. You can still be tracked,” she muttered while opening my windows and closing them one-by-one. I’d checked my personal email, looked up sports scores on ESPN, and of course had Instagram up. And that last one brought up Rae short. “Wait, who’s this?”

I looked at the screen, which still showed Hannah with the kissy face and the exposed nipple. “Ah, well… Wait, I thought you always watched me whenever I was with a girl.”

“Not all the time. She’s hot,” Rae stated approvingly. “Like… super-hot.”

I chuckled. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

“No you won’t,” Rae ordered while closing the window. “I don’t exist. Remember that.”

“Fine. No I won’t.”

Rae shook her head, shut the laptop closed, and then held it up. “Have you had this the whole time?”

“Yes, obviously. I threw it into my carry-on when you first had me pack up in Santa Monica. Didn’t you see me?”

“No, obviously, I didn’t.” Rae rubbed her forehead. “I was probably busy watching the exits to make sure the Cao Wei didn’t rush in to kill you. How many times have you used this?”

I held my hands up. “I dunno… A couple of times in Chicago, at least. You left me in my room for a LONG time.”

“Doing what?”

“Yesterday? I was trying to do work, actually.”

“Work?!?” she barked incredulously.

“Hey, I was worried about being flat broke and returning to my old life before, remember?”

“Didn’t we put that matter to bed already?”

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to do coding work right now. I was just… bored. Watching basketball highlights. Checking my DM’s.”

Rae sighed and shook her head ruefully. “Now we have to move.”

“Move?”

“To another location. This house has been compromised.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?”

“No. No it’s not.” Rae looked frustrated. “And the fact that you don’t realize it isn’t is part of the problem.”

I held up my hands defensively. “Alright, alright. If you say so. We’ll move.”

“I say so.” Rae shook her head again and sighed, holding up my laptop and waggling it. “And we’ve got to destroy this.”

“Destroy it? Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you a new one. But how did you not realize you couldn’t keep using this?”

“I told you: it’s VPN’d.”

“And I told YOU, it doesn’t MATTER.” Rolling her eyes at my evident stupidity, Rae sighed, turned, and walked out of the room with my laptop. And over her shoulder she growled, “Grab your things. We’re leaving.”

****

Thirty minutes later, Rae and I walked into the Presidential Suite on the 10th floor of the Four Seasons Seattle. With floor-to-ceiling windows, modern furnishings, and marble everything, it was quite an upgrade over our cozy Northlake Airbnb cottage, and my eyes had bugged out down in the lobby when I’d realized the suite cost more than five thousand dollars a night. But Rae had merely reminded me that money was the least of our problems, at which point I whined about why she’d gotten me such an old iPhone that it still had a button on it, and then I begrudgingly followed her over to the elevator.

The other silver lining in moving downtown was easy access to shopping, so we went out to buy me some more clothes and stock up on supplies like toiletries, an electric razor, a new laptop, and of course some noise-cancelling headphones. It was nearing sunset when we returned, and with my stomach growling, we decided to simply go to the hotel restaurant for dinner.

Much like the rest of the hotel, Goldfinch Tavern was a luxury restaurant with epic views of the Seattle waterfront, including The Seattle Great Wheel, front and center. We were early enough for Happy Hour, so rather than sit in the dining room, Rae and I took spots at the corner of the bar where we could see both the sunset view and also have good sightlines across the restaurant. And since the cost of our meal was apparently no object, I went ahead and ordered a bunch of oysters, Dungeness crab chowder, a few crab cakes, a few more oysters, and more than a few cocktails.

Fortunately, Rae was more than happy to imbibe a few cocktails with me. As a girl living on the edge of life and death, she apparently liked to enjoy the moments when she could relax and unwind. She’d “dressed up” again, transforming her outfit into a trendy cute dress with another exceptionally short hemline that almost exposed the lower cheeks of her ass, added fancy jewelry, and glammed up her makeup. And she once again made for a perfect dining companion, with a buoyant attitude and a quick wit.

Having recalled how giggly and flirty she’d gotten at the cocktail lounge last night, I’d chalked up her good mood at the time to the discovery of the crystal key. But even though we’d also recovered the bamboo scroll today, I actually thought her cheerful demeanor tonight at the restaurant was Rae’s real personality, and not just because of another successful treasure hunt. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she could be a really nice, really fun person to be around when she wasn’t all doom-and-gloom-and-we-need-to-destroy-your-favorite-laptop serious.

Something else turned out to also be just like last night.

“There’s a girl checking you out.”

I glanced up from my glass with arched eyebrows to meet my companion’s twinkle-eyed gaze. Rae smiled straight at me, and this time her irises were pointing straight at me. She also held herself utterly still while clicking her eyes to the left, indicating I should look in that direction. And when I allowed myself to glance over Rae’s shoulder, I found an angularly beautiful girl gazing back at me.

Of course, as soon as our eyes met, the girl immediately turned her head away after getting caught staring. She pursed her lips and acted as if she found the napkin beneath her wine glass to be utterly fascinating. But when I smiled and started talking to Rae again while using my peripherals to keep watching the other young woman, I could tell precisely when she started checking me out again.

“Asian girl? Long jet-black hair?” I asked.

“Sleeveless burgundy dress with a high collar fit very tight over her breasts. Long bubble braid over her left shoulder.”

I frowned in confusion. “I have no idea what a long bubble braid is.”

Rae rolled her eyes.

“But the burgundy dress, yes,” I confirmed.

“She’s hot, isn’t she?”

“Well I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers.”

Now Rae frowned in confusion. “Kick her out for eating what?”

“Nevermind. Just an expression.”

“You Americans have the strangest expressions.”

“I’m agreeing that she’s hot.”

“Hot and quite interested in you.”

“Well, she could theoretically be checking you out.”

Rae rolled her eyes again.

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “You know you’re pretty hot yourself, Rae. ‘All that and a bag of chips’, right? There’s another American expression for you.”

“We don’t need to have another conversation trying to explain away why a girl would be checking you out when you’re so obviously sitting here with me, Mr. Ax Effect. We both know she’s interested. And we both know you’re interested.”

“Well… I mean… If a pretty girl wants me to show her a good time, it would be ungentlemanly to refuse.”

“‘Ungentlemanly’,” Rae scoffed. “Oh you poor dear. It must be getting close to ten whole hours since you last had an ejaculation with a beautiful, busty young woman. Your body must be pumping out millions of pheromones into the air, desperate to rectify such an unimaginable travesty.”

I smirked. “It’s not that I can’t survive a day without having sex.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m not inclined to test that theory tonight, especially when I’d rather test the theory about whether or not you power-up while having sex.”

“Are you planning to… ahem… observe such a carefully planned experiment in-person?”

Rae blushed, let a twinkle come into her eyes, and then turned to rather deliberately look back over her shoulder at the sexy babe in the burgundy dress.

I watched the other girl quickly avert her gaze, trying quite hard to keep herself from staring over at me or from meeting Rae’s eyes, not easy to do when my Ax Effect attracted her eyes as if I had a magnetic pull. The visibly aroused young woman at the other end of the bar placed a hand over what was surely a racing heart as if the action could help calm herself. It might have even worked, because after a second or two, she sat up a little straighter, tilted her head ever so slightly, and then rather confidently raised her gaze to meet Rae’s. And after the two beautiful young women locked eyes, the other girl even managed a coy little smile.

“Well what have we here?” I drawled quietly to Rae. “Play your cards right, and you won’t even have to turn invisible for this one. Maybe even… join in?”

“Of for fuck’s sake, Aksel. I’m not getting naked in front of you,” Rae scoffed while turning back to face me.

“Not trying to get you naked; I respect your boundaries. I just mean: should you ever find yourself inclined to… to get a taste…” I chuckled and then grinned. “Is she your type? I know she’s not a platinum blonde bombshell with big boobs or anything, but still…”

“Oh, I think her boobs are plenty big. Perhaps that’s nothing more than a really impressive push-up bra, but I think that doll hit the jackpot in the Asian-girl-genetic-lottery.”

“Jealous? C’mon…” I teased with a wink. “I’ve seen your powers. If you can grow a frikkin’ sword out of your hand, couldn’t you… y’know… expand your bustline a little?”

Rae’s eyes narrowed. “I am perfectly comfortable being a flat-chested shorty, thank you very much.”

“First of all, you’re not flat-chested. I am a connoisseur of female anatomy, and you’ve got a perfectly nice pair that deserve proper appreciation. Second of all, you’re not that short. One might say you’re average height for a Chinese girl.”

“Half-Chinese,” she corrected, “and my father is over six feet tall.”

“Couldn’t you make yourself six feet tall if you wanted?”

Rae shrugged. “If I wanted, but I don’t. Changing my clothes at will is one thing, but I have no need to modify my actual physical appearance.”

“So just confirming: this IS your actual physical appearance? Hair, face, figure, etcetera? Not an idealized version of yourself?”

“One hundred percent me,” Rae confirmed. “Huli jing are natural beauties.”

“That you are,” I agreed. “You’re gorgeous, Rae.”

“You’re drunk, Aksel.”

“Buzzed. Happily buzzed,” I corrected. “As are you, unless huli jing are also immune to alcohol.”

“Definitely not. Some supernaturals are though, which always seemed like a bit of a waste. Can’t even enjoy a good buzz.”

“Hundred percent agree. I’m enjoying a very pleasant buzz. But I’m not so drunk that I didn’t notice you haven’t actually answered my question.” I rather pointedly turned and tilted my chin towards the girl in the burgundy dress, not minding if the girl noticed. And then I smirked and repeated to Rae, “Is she your type?”

Rae smiled right back. “I assure you that ‘my type’ spans a wide variety of forms and figures. Like you, I’m a connoisseur of female anatomy.”

I raised my glass to hers for a toast. “To female anatomy.”

She laughed and clinked her glass against mine. “To female anatomy.”

We both sipped our drinks, with me polishing off mine completely, tapping the empty against the bar, and then raising it in the air. When the bartender looked over at me, I called out loudly, “Another one of these, please! And another round for the beautiful lady seated at the end over there.”

The bartender glanced at me, and then he took a glance over at the beautiful lady in question. She’d clearly heard me buy her a drink, and she raised her nearly empty wine glass in salute.

Game on.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue & Chapter 1: The Ax Effect: https://www.patreon.com/posts/102225387

Chapter 2: Santa Monica: https://www.patreon.com/posts/102437478

Chapter 3: The Zellij Fountain: https://www.patreon.com/posts/102691018

Chapter 4: Euhemerism: https://www.patreon.com/posts/102919819