Sacred Awakenings

Job

Raff’s POV

The infamous Black Dragon King is looking for bartenders for his new club. Not that he knows he’s infamous, but you don’t hang around the Underground fae Markets as much as I do without learning a thing or two. The skateboarding half fae doesn’t seem enough of a threat for people to hide anything from. After all, I am half human, and they all know my family from my mother’s stall with her herbs and elixirs. My brother works the stall alongside her, despite having few fae traits. I skateboard and paint graffiti and occasionally a commissioned mural or painting.

I know the business well and craft my own elixirs, which I use to make craft cocktails that humans and supernaturals alike enjoy. I work as a bartender at a small human bar in Peabody, but getting a job at a new supernatural nightclub in the city will really improve my financial situation.

I don’t know why I mess with the dragon, implanting seeds of s****l deeds into his mind and flirting. I have a major crush on this witch, who I used to see around campus, and I have a girlfriend. Sure, the girlfriend is a controlling b***h, but we’ve been together for years. I guess I am a flirt. It’s in my nature.

I got the job, and I got a rise out of the dragon, so to speak. It’s funny, but I won’t keep f*****g with him now that I am hired.

I skate over to Haymarket and run down the stairs into the train station, slipping through the gate while using a glamour. Then slinking along the tunnel to the unused portion that leads to the secret decommissioned station which hosts the Underground Fae Markets. My mother’s stall is in the Northwest corner and I skate over there with all the ease of someone who has spent most of their life hanging out here.

“I got the job!” I shout as I come to a quick stop in front of her booth.

“That’s wonderful, dear, but I hope that means you won’t disappear into the city life and be a stranger to us,” my mother says, pulling me into a big hug.

She is deceptively strong for a willowy fae woman, but she has to be. She would have been queen if she hadn’t fallen in love with father and been banished to the mortal realm. My grandfather, the King of the Spring Court, and head of the clan Verdante, is a “purist”. Purists believe fae blood should never be “tainted” by relations with other races. But he forgets that his own great-great grandmother was a human-witch hybrid.

“Don’t worry, mom. I have to get both herbs and seeds that I don’t have in my stock from you, and we will always celebrate any holidays that I can get off of work together,” I say with a smirk.

“When do you start? Will Sheila move with you when you get your own apartment?” Mom asks with a smirk of her own.

“I start in a couple of weeks. I gotta learn the drinks. The boss wants to make signature drinks and have him sample my elixirs. Then be sure that I stock the bar with my herbs and elixirs while teaching the other bartenders how to make my ‘craft cocktails’,” I say.

I turn before quietly mumbling, “Sheila doesn’t know.”

If she were just a human, it would be easier to get out of her clutches, but she is a full-blooded fae. Her mother is a Sidhe and her father is recently retired from being one of the riders in the wild hunt. Short of finding a fated mate, she will not let go. I don’t even know if I could have a fated mate as a half fae.

“I heard that, Rafferty! Stop leading her on if you don’t want to be with the girl,” mom says and shakes her head as she turns to grab an herb bundle.

“Don’t you think that I have tried? Every time I try to get away, she digs her claws in further,” I sigh.

“That is why I am giving you this. These herbs, when mixed with wine, will help her have dreams of her fated mate. Once she finds him, then you will be free. If someone without a fated mate drinks the wine, they will have nightmares, though. So I caution you not to consume them yourself because we can not be certain.”

I take the herbs from my mother and kiss her cheek, thanking her before heading home. Then tell Sheila that I will cook her a romantic dinner that we can enjoy in my basement studio together.

I pour a bottle of red wine into a carafe where I steep the herbs while I prepare herb roasted lamb and new potatoes with a mixed green and goat cheese salad. Dressed in a modernized version of traditional fae tunic and nice jeans, I light some candles and put on some appropriate music. As an Unseelie Fae, she is used to metal and punk, so softer versions of those are romantic music to her.

The dinner conversation flows easily, but as I bring out dessert, she grills me about my new job. I should have known it would get back to her quickly. Her father was an enforcer for Boston’s Fae King before he retired.

“So, this Dragon King that you work for now…what can you tell me about him?” Sheila asks.

What do I say? He’s sexy in a dark and brooding way? He’s moody but makes my normally straight self want to try men for a change? Where are these thoughts coming from?

I look at my glass of wine, it’s half empty, and it’s not my first, but so is hers and we are both awake, so I’m not stuck in a nightmare, yet.

I shrug noncommittally and say, “He’s big, he’s grumpy, he’s dark, and he’s my boss.”

“I’ve heard rumors about him, but I am afraid to find out if they are true,” she says with a scheming look.

“I have as well, and I can’t be sure, but I suspect they are.”

My head is swimming and I can’t finish my dessert. Sheila looks fine, but she sees my state and kisses me before seeing herself out.

I see her walk out the door before I fall into darkness…the nightclub is around me, only it’s finished. There is an amazing DJ. Are they Japanese? They are cute, but now I feel a hand on my shoulder and it’s my witch, but a large man with mocha skin and dreadlocks is standing close to her, too close to not be intimately acquainted. Then there is my new boss. He is in leather pants and a harness, holding a whip and collar out to me. His pants reveal a large bulge and I feel hot, too hot…Goddess I am burning up!

I shoot up from the ancient sofa that I use as my sitting area. I am soaked in sweat and my body is hot while I have a raging hardon and images of soft breasts and enormous c***s flood my vision. What the f**k was that? It wasn’t exactly a nightmare; it was more like a f****d up wet dream! Who do I even ask about this s**t? It’s a fairy trip…like something out of one of the fae clubs where everyone is eating mushrooms and drinking heathered wine and having a massive orgy. I have only ever been to one, but it’s a trip that you will never forget.

That club was the only time I ever had a dude suck my d**k, or sucked a guy’s d**k. The heather and shrooms had us flying high and not giving a f**k about who or what we were with.

My mother stands by the table with her hands on her hips.

“I warned you not to drink it. Take this for the headache,” she soothes, handing me a glass of clear silvery liquid that smells sweet and faintly floral.

Nektare. It helps with most fae ailments, especially herbal hangovers.

“It wasn’t a nightmare per se, but it was a really strange dream that I am not comfortable talking to you about, mom.”

Her eyes angle to my still half hard erection.

“I think I might understand better than you can imagine, after all I am fae.”

“How many mates are normal?” I ask, hopefully.

“Many fae have two mates, dear,” she sighs.

“How rare is it to have 4?”