Erika
“This is…something else,” she said in awe as they passed through the invitation checkpoint and into the building itself. “What is this place?”
“A hockey arena,” Kelly said.
Erika shot her friend a look, asking her how she’d known such a fact.
“I asked one of the guards,” she said with a shrug.
“Oh.” She didn’t have anything better to say. It was a rather fair explanation.
The inside of the building had been transformed. Black drapery covered much of the walls and what she assumed might normally be food and beverage stands. Streamers and balloons festooned the place, along with lighting strung up along the passageways. Looking up, she noted that the large lights had been shut off, giving it a much more intimate atmosphere. Black, white, and gold was the color scheme of the evening, a very formal taste to it, though thankfully neither the gold nor the white had been overdone, a very easy thing to do.
The whole design of it lent a rather intimate aura to what was likely normally a cavernous building with extremely high ceilings and wide passageways. The fact that it was nighttime and many of the windows were now covered, meant that one had to really strain to see into the darkness outside of the lights that had been set up specifically for the event.
Together she and Kelly followed the main stream of people, until they emerged into a large open space.
“This must be the arena floor,” she said, looking around.
“I love what they’ve done to transform it,” Kelly said, spinning around slowly as they walked to take it all in.
Erika had to agree. A massive tent that looked almost like it had been cut from a single piece of material had been draped over the floor, with its ends falling over and down to the floor to obscure the arena seating that she knew must lie beyond. Lights were hung from various support poles and in the corners as well, to illuminate the entire place. A wooden parquet dance floor had been set up all along the far wall, with a real live band on a dais in one of the corners.
Another wall held food and drink tables, covered in a variety of delicious-looking items that she couldn’t wait to try. There were people everywhere dressed up in lovely gowns, suits, and tuxedos, dresses and skirts, and even a few other outfits from cultures around the world. Many of the colors were muted on the men, with the flares of color almost exclusively coming from the dresses the women wore.
“Aren’t you glad you came?” Kelly said as they stepped toward the food tables, easing their way out of the steady stream of people entering.
“Yeah yeah, say your ‘I told you so’s’ now please, so I don’t have to listen to them all night,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Is there any alcohol in these?” she asked as a steward came by with a plate of drinks balanced on one hand.
“No ma’am, not in these,” came the polite response.
“Perfect,” Erika said and snagged a pair of the glasses filled with colorful liquid, passing one to Kelly with a flourish.
“Oh, why thank you, madam,” her friend giggled, accepting the refreshment.
Erika stood back and admired her friend’s dress. Kelly was an average woman, as she described herself. Average height, average weight, average brown hair, and average looks. Erika didn’t really agree. She considered her friend gorgeous, and wouldn’t have argued at all if she woke up looking like that.
For the ball, however, she’d chosen a sky-blue dress that was bunched up around the back and then fell around her legs in waves. The arms were bared with double-finger-wide straps over the shoulders. The front dipped low enough to expose some cleavage, but it was the color that truly drew most of the attention. Her friend looked good, and some of the men in the room were already looking Kelly’s way.
Around them other women, all human, filtered in as well, looking nervous and timid. They tended to clump in pairs or larger groups, keeping themselves separate from the men. Most of them were showing various signs of pregnancy, from large, rounded stomachs of those nearing the end of their term, to those just starting to give off the subtle hints of carrying another life within them. Many more fit between the two ends.
She glanced over at Kelly, her friend sipping away and looking over the rim of her crystal glass at the sights in front of them. Somehow she doubted it was the décor that had caught Kelly’s attention. Her friend was shameless, and had made it very clear her intent for the evening was to find someone. Erika wasn’t sure Kelly truly understood that most of these shifters would be looking for mates, the one woman that they would spend the rest of their life with. She doubted many of them were looking for a fun night only.
“Go on,” she said. “Have fun. I’ll be hanging around here, or by the bathrooms.”
“Okay!” Kelly said, not putting up a fight. She embraced Erika, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek and then whispering in her ear. “Don’t just mope around. Promise me you’ll at least talk to people who approach you.”
“I’m not a bitch,” she protested. “I came here after all, didn’t I?”
“True,” Kelly was forced to admit. “And you do look fantastic.”
Erika blushed at the compliment. Although she’d played down coming to the ball, that hadn’t stopped her from going all out in preparation. Getting all dressed up was half the fun of any formal event anyway. The welts on her feet from the heels she’d shoved her feet into certainly wasn’t what she went through it all for.
The dress she wore was a deep purple one-shoulder affair. Cinched tight under her chest, it fell to the floor with a pleated design. Worked into the shoulder itself was a crystal design that stopped just shy of the curves of her breasts. The satiny material shimmered and reflected some of the light, creating shadows and curves as she moved.
“Thank you,” she said with a tight smile. “Now, go flirt and be shameless,” she ordered.
“On it!” Kelly laughed and headed off into the crowd.
Erika immediately turned and walked over to the food tables that she’d been ignoring while talking to her friend. Grabbing one of the plates, she began to pile on the food displayed there. Grilled chicken slathered in cheese sauce went next to still-warm pastries, both of which found themselves staring across at a heaping pile of mashed potatoes, one of her favorite foods.
Well, I certainly won’t be going home with an empty stomach, that’s for sure. A full belly was the only thing she planned on taking home that she hadn’t arrived with. Moving off to one side, she held the plate in one hand and speared at the chicken with another, trying not to groan at the deliciousness of it. The cheese had a bit of a kick to it, making her wonder if it in fact was chipotle cheese something or other. Erika wasn’t a cook, but she certainly appreciated good food. Not haute cuisine; no, good food. Tasty food with large portions. There was a distinct difference.
Staring around, she noticed that the flow of people inside had fallen off to a trickle, and the band had begun warming up, plucking at chords here and there, as if they intended to start soon. Erika wasn’t overly interested in dancing on a full stomach, so she set her plate down on a table that seemed designated as the dirty-dish station and snagged another drink from a passing waiter after ensuring it was alcohol-free. She was here to have fun, not be irresponsible. There was a living child growing inside her stomach, even if it wasn’t fully formed yet.
Noting a number of men—whom she figured to be shifters—standing around dressed in all-white jackets and pants yet not serving any noticeable function, Erika pondered their presence. Most of them seemed highly alert, constantly scanning the crowd, as if looking for something. Or someone. Security. It had to be. Were they expecting trouble? Curious, she approached one.
“Are you security?” she asked, standing next to the man, so as not to block his view.
“Ah, yes ma’am. Lieutenant Kiefer Hartmann, at your service,” he replied, never once removing his eyes from the crowd. “Is there a problem?”
“No, no,” she said slowly following his gaze. It was tough; every fourth person a cute face slowed her scan down. There were plenty of good-looking men in the room. Even the guard six inches to her left was extremely handsome. But none of them spoke to her, or called for more of her attention than a simple glance. “I was just wondering why you’re here. Whom are you expecting to cause trouble?”
This time the guard did turn to look at her. “You’re a single woman, accompanied by only single women, in a hall full of single male shifters.” His eyes danced with mild laughter.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess I understand. Are your people normally unwilling to respect the boundaries I might set?” she asked, wondering if she was about to learn a deep secret of the shifter culture.
“No ma’am,” he said with a firmness that told her she’d struck a nerve. “Most of us are good, honest people that can be depended on to respect your wishes. More so than humans on average, I’d say.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, she got the distinct impression he was unhappy about what he was saying next. “But although I like to think we’re generally more chivalrous and polite, we aren’t perfect either. We have our darkness and our assholes, those who don’t obey the rules.” He shrugged. “I’m here to make sure they only break the rules once.”
The iron threat in his voice made it clear that he wasn’t going to tolerate any law-breaking.
“So what makes you and the others different from the rest?” she asked. “How do you know your men won’t break the rules?”
This time Kiefer grinned. “Well, they aren’t my men, ma’am, but thank you. This is First Company, under Captain Luther Klein,” he said, nodding toward a tall, serene looking man on the other side of the indoor tent. “And the difference, besides us being the best of the best of the best, ma’am, is that the security detail tonight was all chosen from mated shifters.” His grin grew wider. “You have no power here,” he joked.
Erika found herself laughing alongside him. “Well then, Lieutenant Hartmann,” she said. “I shall leave you to your job, though I hope that you go home bored.”
“Oh, I won’t,” he said, but his tone was too light to be referring to anything bad. “Someone is going to get too drunk and make a fool of themselves in a way that they’ll never live down, I’m sure of it.”
They laughed again. “Well, it is a party,” she said, before bidding adieu to the lieutenant and finding herself a water glass.
In the corner the first strands of a concerto drifted out over the audience, eliciting many approving murmurs from the assembled shifters, many of whom immediately turned to women near them and took their hands, guiding them onto the floor. Elsewhere others finally sucked up their courage and made their way toward other women. Some succeeded. Others were turned down.
On the floor itself, the men took their partners by the hand and the waist, and began to guide them through what must have been a popular dance in Cadia. The moves were vaguely familiar, but likely because she’d seen them on one TV show or another, not because Erika had any idea how to execute them.
Mostly it seemed the men just lifted and twirled the women with a casual strength that made her remember that they weren’t actually human, despite looking like it. The scene was almost picturesque, the large gowns and the fancy suits, all twirling, dipping, and soaring in unison. It brought a smile to her face.
The men moved elegantly.
The women flowed gracefully.
And in the corner Erika stood leaning against a pole chewing on ice cubes. She wasn’t going on the dance floor. Nope. No way. No how. This was her spot.
A finger gently tapped her shoulder. “Excuse me, miss?”