#amref01

Day One

Braxis Draekmol stood in front of the fancy bathroom mirror, towel drying his black hair as he stared at the little black box on the counter. He’d picked it up weeks ago, before all this shit had hit the fan. Ever since, he’d kept it hidden at the bottom of his bags, wrapped and hidden deep in his spare pair of boots just in case his little painter decided to unpack for him.

Amelie had just about been snatched from their room upon arrival by her sisters, leaving the dragon to fend for himself in the large, luxury suite. He’d known that the queens had money, had his own small fortune squired away between mortal bank accounts, but this type of fugle spending, he was still getting used to. Amelie chalked it up to something about dragons and their need to hoard, but he brushed it off due to her fantastic ass. 

Setting aside the damp towel, he reached for a pair of fresh boxers and drug them up his hips, unable to ignore the box that seemed to stare him down. What to do, what to do…

“Bray?”

With a soft curse, the dragon snatched up the offending box, clutching it as if she could see through walls. He could hear her heels on the wood floors as she searched through the rooms for him, getting closer to the bathroom.

“Yeah- one second.” Scowling, he scoured the room for a place to stash the ring, anywhere she wouldn’t look.

Her voice called from just outside the bathroom door. “Bray, come look! I got us a present- you’re gonna love it!”

“Shit,” he cursed on a breath. He’d brought the box with him into the bathroom for his shower, afraid she’d get back and unpack before he was finished. Now he was trapped with the damn thing unless he could find-

On the counter, a small array of hand towels arranged in swans sat in the corner. It took a second to find one big enough to stow the box in, but if he set the others in front, it wasn’t too noticeable.

Satisfied at the temporary fix, he loosed a breath before opening the door to find his beautiful brunette holding what looked to be a small white handbag.

“What did you get, little love?”

Her grin stunned him, even after all this time. The way it split her face, narrowing her blue eyes- his chest tightened at the sight.

Until her arms came out, and she was holding the bag right in front of his face. A tickle began at the back of his throat almost immediately, and the dragon frowned a second before turning away to sneeze.

Once. 

Twice.

“His name is Balthazar and I love him.”

And when he turned back, brows furrowed as he tried to piece together her words, a small pink dot appeared seconds before the white bag leaned forward and licked his nose.

As he focused, he realized that it wasn’t a bag at all, but a small, fluffy, canine.

Black eyes- eyes that were beginning to itch with irritation- narrowed on the queen before him. “No.”

Her smile turned into a pretty pout at the word. She clutched the dog to her chest, petting its head- or what he assumed to be it’s head. It’s body was one puff of white fur. “Love, do they even allow dogs in here?”

That beautiful, glossed bottom lip extended even more as she answered. “They let Astor in, didn’t they? Oh Bray, he’s so cute and I love him and I know you’ll be best friends-”

“I’m allergic to dogs.”

“No you’re not.”

“I can literally feel the hives forming.”

“They make ointment for that.”

“I’ll eat him.“ 

“You wouldn’t dare.“

“Amelie.“  “Braxis.“

“No.”

“Yes.”

By the first dragons, he was going to have to live with this creature.

“Oh, I got a bone to pick. I don’t want you money mouth motherfuckers sittin’ in my throne again!” Astor Smithe bounced her ass in time to the beat of the music she had turned up to a staggering volume. Dressed in one of her warrior’s t-shirts and panties, her face reflected the lyrics she sang.

“Bitch where you when I was walkin’? Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’, King Kunta.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted her Berserker in the doorway, resting a shoulder against the frame as he watched her with amusement dancing in those hazel eyes. Turning, she pointed at the tall Hungarian as she sang along. “Everybody wanna cut the leg off him, Kunta. Black man takin’ no losses. Bitch where you when I was walkin’?” Barefoot, she made her way over to him, bringing herself to the middle of the front room from the bed. “Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’. King Kunta.”

Her hair fell in waves down to her waist, messy from the quick blow out she’d done after her shower. “When you got the yams- what’s the yams?” Her voice turned up as she sang both parts, throwing her eyes to the ceiling while twisting her face in an innocent, vapid expression. “The yam is the power that be.” Snatching up a shirt she’d discarded over an armchair, she tossed it in the direction of her warrior, letting it fall on the floor at his feet. “You can smell it when I’m walkin’ down the street!”

Her lips exploded in a dazzling grin. Reaching for his hand, she pulled him further into the room, encouraging him to dance with her along to the beat. “Most of y’all sharing bars like you got the bottom bunk in a two man cell.” Pinching her nose, she pretended to be a diver. “Something’s in the water- something’s in the water.” Tapping her chin, she smiled up at him. “And if I got a brown nose for some gold then I’d rather be a bum than a motherfuckin’ baller.”

Jaxon Mile released a breath as he walked down the hotel hallway, fishing the keycard to their rooms out of his joggers. He’d spent the past few hours in the private workout rooms, finally working off the urge to pound away at a bag that he’d felt for days now. He stripped off the gear Ashlae had gifted him to help track his training progress, excited to see the results on his tablet inside.

1145. He slipped the card in, pushing the door open once the light turned green. He frowned as he shut it behind him, taking note of the dim rooms and silence-

Not silence; a soft snore called to him, familiar as the rhythm of his own heartbeat. Satisfaction warmed his chest as he made his way quietly through the rooms until he found it’s source.

In the giant white bed, she’d pulled the covers down halfway. Her black mane had been pulled into a messy bun, as if thrown up in an afterthought before passing out. He could make out her grey tank top, an arm outstretched to lay over the two smaller forms curled up beside her. Astraea hadn’t even been changed from her dress, her face pressed into Nicolette’s chest with her brother sprawled spread eagle on his back, two loose fist laying on the pillow.

Jaxon’s hand came up to rub at the ache in his chest as he watched them doze, amazed at the things that brought him comfort these days. He’d never known his wife to take naps, but the midday exhaustion these days barely kept her from falling out around noon.

This vacation was good for her, good for them all. He made his way to the side of the bed, reaching out to brush a stray lock from her cheek.

Her chest rose, and his wife turned to flicker her lashes up at him. “Jake?”

“I’m here,” he whispered through a smile. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to wash off.”

Her reply was lost to the grogginess, and in seconds she was out once again.

Talyn Demmekke reclined on the patio chair, fully engrossed in the book splayed in his lap. He’d changed as soon as they left for their rooms, exchanging his jeans and t-shirt for a black tank top and grey sweats. On the table beside him, a bowl with herbs smoldered beside a stack of tombs he intended to read. The prince was fully relaxed amongst familiar smells and sights, happy to be left alone with his books for company.

And just when he thought this vacation was exactly what he needed to release some tension in his mind and soul, the double doors to his private patio crept open.

As soon as he glanced up from the page, the tiny redhead was frowning down at him. “Is this how you have fun?”

Talyn’s cheeks flushed red, as they always did when she was around. His child bride, his little mate. Sometimes he even envied his twin, who’s emotionless demoness was barely speaking to him these days. At least Evryn didn’t have to deal with a decade long age gap with his mate- just a moral one.

“I...” He cleared his throat before shutting the book in his lap, marking the page with his finger. “Yes?”

Alas shifted her stance, twisting to read the title over his shoulder. Riotous, red curls fell in his face, and the prince struggled to mask how her scent affected him by shifting the tomb in his lap. “The Art of War, by Sun Tzu.” She read the words slow, like a child that was still learning their pronunciation.

Which, he figured, she was. “It’s a collection of military strategies, written over generations of Chinese war generals.”

She frowned, fixing him with those eerie, mismatched eyes. “Why do you read it?” she asked.

He tried not to notice her low cut white top, or the slim curve to her waist, or the pale alabaster skin of her thighs where her shorts cut off, or those eyes that seemed to soak in everything they saw. So he watched her lips, which wasn’t much better than all the rest in taming the blush he was sure tinted his cheeks. “It’s… a good book.”

Her smile, hesitant and unsure as it was, sent his heart stampeding at an uneven rhythm. She took the seat of the patio chair beside his, hands folding in her lap as she waited.

Talyn’s brows rose. What was she waiting for?

Her smile faltered in the silence, as if second guessing herself. A pale, white hand came up to tuck a strand of fire behind one ear. “Will you tell me about it? I don’t know many things.”

The first lesson he’d learned upon entering the Brotherhood of Scholars; the first, and only true truth a man should speak was the admittance of uncertainty in all things. The quest for knowledge began at the crossroads of pride and ignorance; to pursue it meant forever taking the mindset of a student, foregoing arrogance in favor of humbly asking, always, why?

And so Talyn focused his eyes on the tomb in his lap, furrowing his brows as he called to mind what resided in the pages before him- then traveled to the true definition of war, and took a sideroad to the argument of defining justice. Which, of course, brought him back to his favorite philosophy debate; Socrates’ question ‘what is justice? How do we define it?’

Minutes had passed in silence before he realized she was still waiting for him to speak, and his mind had run away from him once again. “I’m sorry,” he offered on a nervous chuckle. “Do you want me to tell you about the book I’m reading?”

Alas shrugged, a very un-princess like gesture. Her own cheeks heated as she stammered a reply. “I… don’t know many things. My brother has teached me so much, but-”

“Taught.”

She frowned, cheeks burning from a pale pink to a bright auburn rose. “Taught. My brother has taught me so much.”

Talyn smiled, giving her a look of encouragement before setting the book on the pile he’d stacked by the table. “What is one of your favorite things?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. This was beginning to feel a bit easier, he realized.

Her eyes lit up, the colors of green and blue nearly shocking him silent as she spoke. “I like the sky very much.”

“Then we’ll talk about astrology.”

Ashlae Summers turned in place, arms locked around the somber toddler on her hip as she glanced back at the shopping proposal Nicolette shouted to her pink headed mate. Luna looked unsure, worrying her bottom lip as she debated on giving her sister an answer. 

“Ash will watch Cas while we shop, Luna, won’t you? We’ll pick you up a dress while we’re out- you don’t like all that hassle anyway. We’ll take care of it for you.” 

Nicolette had a point- Ashlae hated clothes shopping when it came to fashion versus comfort. Apparently her opinion was always wrong in the eyes of the queens. ‘No, you can’t wear a hoodie and jeans to a ball’ had been thrown in her face too many times for the hacker to really care what went on her body, just as long as it covered the essentials. 

Giving Casimir a soft bounce to get him higher on her hip, the caramelatte nodded once and even meet her partner’s concerned gaze. Fighting down the fury that rose, Ashlae told Luna, “I’ve got him- he needs a nap anyway.” 

Relief lit the Hell Queen’s features, and though she hated it, she added, “Something comfortable, please. And dark colors- don’t put me in yellow again or I’ll shred your ball gowns soon as we get back.” 

1152. “I think this is our room, Cas,” she murmured to the toddler babbling softly in her ear as she fished in her deep pockets for the key card. The plastic revolted her- she knew first hand how easy it was to break through the security with nothing more than a well placed scanner and some patience. 

The light flashed red to green, and Ashlae let out a soft gasp at the room laid out before her. Luxury upon luxury- something she could truly appreciate, given the hovels she’d spent the better part of her adult life hiding in. 

Soon as she closed the door behind her, she flicked the latch to slide the bolt home. “Wanna play with Logan, Cas?” The baby’s giggle of excitement warmed her chest, drawing a smile of her own to play on her lips. “Alright, alright. You’re gonna make me jealous.” 

Setting the toddler in the middle of the California King bed, Ashlae set up a pillow bumper system around him as he waited patiently on the white comforter. 

Drawing the backpack from her shoulders, she flipped through the padlock on the zipper until finally, her hand was fishing deep in the middle compartment. “Ah,” she breathed, pulling out a 6x4 white box. She pressed a pattern into the flat surface until a soft hum brought the box to life. 

“Logan?” 

In her earpiece, a melancholy voice answered. “Yes?” 

“Boot up Mystique software, Casimir’s update, the latest mod. Lets work on our animal names today.” She counted the seconds it took for the hum coming from the box in hand to shift, telling her the upload was complete. She’d only gotten to eight before seamless compartments began to contort and adjust themselves, until she set a white monkey about the same height and size of the toddler on the bed. 

And as he clapped, squealing in excitement as the animal moved around mimicking the real thing, she spoke again into her ear piece. “And find what room Arik’s in. Have flowers sent there tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Miss Summers.” 

“Make sure he doesn’t fall off the bed, please. Scan the surface, alert me if he gets near the edge.” She didn’t wait for a response before she started to move, digging in the backpack until she found the devices she searched for by texture and touch, setting each piece out in front of her as she needed it. 

Striding to the door, she placed small black bricks on the wall. “Any type of floral arrangement in particular, or should I pick the flowers myself?” 

Drawing a device from her pocket, Ashlae let out a snort of amusement as she unfolded the flexible glass until the flat surface of her tablet snapped into place. Immediately all of her technology came to the screen under their given nicknames, thanks to the print reader on the back that scanned her hand for security. “Set a reminder later tonight to look at your personality code. I don’t remember programming sarcasm into your response generator.” 

A soft bell sounded in the background of her earpiece, and on the tablet a notification for her schedule appeared. “Reminder set. The floral arrangement?” 

“Gardenias. A dozen or so will do.” 

“Miss Summers, if I may I don’t think a man of Merlin’s caliber will appreciate a floral arrangement such as gardenias.” 

She tapped away at the screen of her tablet, until the tech blockers blinked twice, a soft green light to alert her of their battery being switched on. That would keep any scanner rendered key from coming within arm’s length from their door without sounding an alarm. “Maybe not, but whatever woman he takes to bed tonight might enjoy them in the morning. What girl doesn’t like gardenias?” 

“Understood. The receipt has been sent to your email, payment taken from your personal accounts.” 

“Thank you, Logan.” She flashed a grin to the bed, where Casimir was giggling at a small white pig that oinked in his face. As she passed, she ruffled the mass of snow white hair on his head before setting the rest of the contents of her bag on the desk. “Start up the security check software, have it scan all the devices in this room that aren’t mine. Alert me of any two-way paths.”

“Yes, Miss Summers.” 

Her projectors took no time to set up in front of the television, extending from three little black boxes she set on the stand. As she waited for them to boot and flicker her screens, she shed the heavy black hoodie she’d worn for the trip, tossing it onto a chair in the corner. 

Her brown gaze took no time scanning the information they displayed, mind running at the outputs as her hand absently scratched at the flexible black brace Arik had fitted to her wrist, which ran all the way up to just before her elbow. 

“Are you ready to see your health summary now, Miss Summers?” 

As her eyes continued to scan the results of what her security scan had turned up, she nodded absently. “First screen, all mobile devices that receive transmissions, please.” As she finished reading the results, the first projector’s content flickered to display a rotating mirror of her body, small blue dots pulsating where the devices on her person were relaying information to be read. 

“Shut down that media connection that’s coming from the television,” she muttered, eyes glued to the green and black text and read off where a potential threat could push through. Her body moved almost on instinct, eyes never straying as her hand tapped twice in the right spot on a grey box, and again on a shiny black one by it’s side. “That’s the transmitter and the router powering on. As soon as they come online have the transmitter block all noise outside my rooms, and use the router’s wifi so that the communications between all devices isn’t lagging.” 

“Yes, Miss Summers. Now, your health status needs some reviewing.” 

“First, I want to be sure this room is silent.” 

“Understood. Countdown to silence in sixteen, fifteen, fourteen...” Ashlae broke her gaze from the displayed information to turn back to the bed, offering a grin to the boy calling out “Lion! Roar!” as a miniature of the animal crouched by a pillow to his side, hide wagging in the air.  

“That’s right Cas, roar!” 

“...Three, two, one. Radio silence from the transmitter. Router has been brought online, and is now in use.” 

“Thank you, Logan.” She turned back to the desk, rolling out a large black mat that had been the hardest to pack and setting all of her devices on it’s soft, warm surface. “Any trouble in charging?” 

She watched every green light come on, but still waited for the sordid reply in her ear before turning away. “No, Miss Summers. All devices are online, in use, and charging. Now, please. The health statistics need reviewing.” 

Ashlae rolled her eyes, even though the software couldn’t appreciate how extravagant an eye roll it really was. Dropping to her knees, she plugged the mat in before speaking. “I’m ready for the report. Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Miss Summers. Now please, if you’ll face the given displays we can begin.” 

She made a face that, again, went unappreciated before straightening, casting one last look at the bed- a horse now, as Casimir squealed “Pony!” - and turning her attention to the projected displays. All three had merged together to show her miniature floating in space, the seven devices she wore pulsing blue and now red for her attention. 

“Miss Summers, you should know that Mr. Merlin has checked on the status of all devices multiple times since you last asked for a report.” 

A scowl took her lips as Ashlae crossed her arms, the mesh of black on her forearm warm against her flesh. “I had a health report on the plane ride this morning.” 

“My information still stands to be accurate.” 

“How many times did he check, exactly?” 

“Twenty-seven checks as of thirteen minutes and eight seconds ago.” Speaking over her scoff, he continued. “All levels were reviewed from each device and cross examined multiple times. The shortest review log is three minutes, thirty-two seconds. Longest log stands at forty-nine minutes, six seconds.”

“What was I doing during the time of that log, the forty-nine minute one?” 

“Sleeping, Miss Summers. On the plane, I believe.” 

Once again, brown eyes rolled. “He’s such a creep. Is there any way to deny him access?” 

A soft pause sent her brows rising in surprise. “Not unless you’re willing to trash his hardware, I’d say no.” 

“I wrote the software!” 

“He’s not using your pathways to glance in, Miss Summers. There are pre-existing pathways in a double layer of hardware, we’ve been over this.” 

“Are you sassing me, Logan? Do you need another personality modification? It’s been awhile since I really sunk my teeth into that code of yours-” 

“Again, Miss Summers, if you’ll turn your attention to the screen, I’ve brought up the most immediate concerns for your inspection.” As he spoke, her projected miniature shrunk and slid to the right of the screens, making room for the text that read out her results over the past few hours of activity in a quick summary for each device. 

On her body at the moment, she wore a few detachable pieces such as the wristband watch on her right arm, the brace on her left, the earpiece Logan spoke to her from, and the white patch on her right shoulder. All four relayed different health statistics to her health database and could be taken off at any time. But some pieces weren’t so easy to shed, such as the cranial implant, the chip in her left calf, and heart monitor deep in her muscle of her chest. All three had been surgically planted in her body years ago, the software cracked and updated once she left from the company that claimed to own her very thoughts. 

“That’s not so bad,” she whispered to herself as she scanned the data. Her temperature had spiked around three, only by a few degrees and hadn’t lasted long enough for a medical override alert. Other than that, there wasn’t much to worry on-

“Have you gotten to the data relayed from your brace, Miss Summers?” 

Shifting her eyes, she re-read the information displayed beneath the device’s name. Dread crept up the back of her throat as she expanded the synopsis. “It’s spreading, then.” 

“And rising in temperature by a fraction of degrees every few hours. I would have missed it myself, except that’s the device Mr. Merlin spent the majority of his forty-nine minute log pulling up. He’s been monitoring that rash as it spreads- an inch every twelve hours, it seems.” 

Dread turned to cold fear as she watched the display as it zoomed in on her forearm, the brace breaking off her miniature to project a 360 degree view of the mysterious rash that had appeared on her wrist two weeks ago. 

She could only assume that it was a side effect of coming into contact with one of the vials she’d broken in her escape from the lab a month ago. “What about the chemical readings from my calf implant and cranial patch?” 

“Nothing abnormal from what we’ve logged the past three weeks since it was added to the log.” 

Ashlae sighed, taking a step back from the interface and waving a hand as if wiping it all away. The gesture triggered a response from her projectors, erasing the health summary and instead reading her current hacker tag. 

Hell Cat Co. turned in place, the logo colored with a pastel pink and beige undertones. “Are we still silent?” she asked, turning from her tag to watch Casimir give the overgrown white puppy a yank on it’s tail. 

“Quiet as the grave, Miss Summers.” 

Her lips twisted in an amused slant. “Was that a joke, Logan?” 

“I am not programmed to joke, Miss Summers.” 

“Right.” Another eye roll for the ages. “Can I get a party location update, please?” 

“Certainly, Miss Summers. Allow me a moment to find everyone, if you will.“ She murmured that she’d wait, absently rubbing the mesh brace with her free hand as she watched Casimir giggle at the howling wolf before him. “By relevance, Little Love and Hell Cat are together, medical status similar to last logged check.” She grinned at the boy on the bed. 

“Dark Dove, Little Princess and Little Prince status suggests sleep, Cheshire within relative distance that would suggest similar rooms being occupied.” Nicolette, Astraea, and Alexei must be napping then. She’d be surprised if Jaxon left their side at all, let alone the damn room. Overbearing den cat that he was. 

“Raven and Child Bride share a location.” Talyn and Alastyr must be getting along, then. Good, she was glad that they were taking this vacation as an opportunity to learn more about each other. 

“Dawn and Smaug also share a relative location.” Braxis hasn’t left Amelie’s side except to let the goddess piss; if she were less of a logic-centered person and more of a gambler, she’d have bet the house on that part of the update. 

“Twilight and Battle Axe have accelerated heart rates, would you like me to look closer?” 

A sly grin split her lips, and Ashlae shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Continue with the report.” The goddess and her warrior had been going at it like bunnies in heat- she was almost sure she’d caught sight of them coming out of the commode together on the flight over. 

“And that’s all for this level, would you like me to search beyond this floor?” 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she was sure Arik would notice the abnormalcy in his neck check-in.  “Relay location for My Love.” 

“On ground floor, in close proximity to Maleficent, Little Fire and Little Ice.” Relief flooded her as she realized that they must be checking out the play area downstairs. Mattea had been walking around with Daryn on her hip since they landed, Millian’s hand tangled in her shirt bottom as he trailed behind. 

With a sigh, Ashlae ran a hand over her tired eyes. Nicolette must have bailed on shopping last minute for a nap, would probably get up in about an hour and join the others. 

“What about Sparrow and Merlin?” Evryn hadn’t been in the report, but she could assume Arik had already left to prowl for tonight’s main course of tall-slim-and-blonde. Gods she hoped he didn’t get another screamer, she hated those. 

Mattea Cross frowned as she caught sight of herself in the reflection of a shop window, tilting her head slightly. The past few hours she’d spent with Nicolette and Luna, they’d gotten their hair done at a salon in one of the bottom levels of the hotel; they’d encouraged her to cut off nearly half her hair. She’d agreed, simply because tying it back was becoming too tedious these days due to it’s length. Now it sat at the middle of her back, hovering around her cheeks in the front. The girls had taken her along with them as they shopped, determined to get all new wardrobes for themselves and their partners.

And they’d made her change at the first store they found with clothing tasteful enough for the queens delights. They’d tossed her black leather trews and t-shirt into the bin, and now she wore a white swatch of cloth that came down to just above her navel and dipped low on her bust, crossing in the back to be tied by the raven angel. She’d been given shorts as well, a light colored denim that frayed and ended just below her bottom. The sneakers and sunglasses were small comforts, and she was beginning to adjust to the clothing.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Nicolette and Luna’s arms linked with Mattea trailing behind, she began to notice the stares of men. Before, they’d found somewhere else to put their gaze when she’d been clad in fighting leathers. But now their eyes were hungry for the golden brown of her skin, roaming over her body like an unexplored territory they wished to visit to their heart’s content.

Mattea kept her face impassive behind the tinted glasses, her lips never straying from their designated flat line. Even as her mind wandered to the possibility, she never gave any of the mortals a real chance- she was a kingdom in her own right that they would never gain citizenship of, never touch or kiss or warm.

Lost in the land of her thoughts, she didn’t notice she’d been spoken to until Nicolette glanced over her shoulder for an answer. The blonde raised her brows in a silent request for the queen to repeat herself.

“Do you like the new clothes you picked out?” Hope flickered in the kind regent’s gaze, curiosity coloring the grey hues. They had all agreed to attend a dinner reservation together tonight, and while that had been what prompted the three to go hunting for appropriate apparel, it had soon turned into a wardrobe excursion.

She nodded her answer, casting her mind back to the many pieces of clothes the two lunatics ahead of her had pressured her to buy. Maniacs with black cards, she deemed them.

Scrunching her nose, Nicolette turned to the Queen of the Hell Realms. “I can’t wait to see Evryn’s face tonight when she comes out in that dress.” A squeal that Mattea was certain didn’t befit a queen exploded from the raven’s lips. “That should fix whatever’s between the two of you.”

As if her mate’s adulterous antics could be expunged by the correctly colored fabric hanging in one of these vapid shops- only if she searched hard enough. As if she’d find a shawl that could cover that scene from her memory- if only she found it in beige instead of midnight blue. Would a strappy camisole succeed in covering her nausea every time she relived the horror of that night, or would an off-the-shoulder halter top do? Heels or sandals; infidelity or ignorance.