XXXVIII

Needles to say, she is not a child anymore. One can tell by looking at Howleen from afar, for the petite wolf girl wears a gorgeous silver silk dress with a silver fur sash around her shoulders, long silver silk gauntlets, a cleavage just low and wide enough to show how much of a woman she's become, as do the slits running along her beautiful legs which of course have a pair of lace-up pantyhose, dark silver for contrast, with silvery high heels. as for jewlery goes, she wears a nice set of white gold earrings shaped like crescent moons and a chocker, also made of white gold, with a full moon in the middle and a two half moons on the sides made out of diamonds, borrowed to her by her oldest sister. Clawdia did her makeup since Clawdeen couldn't, using the new makeup set she brought from England, added a silver crescent moon around her left eye that glows whitish in the dark and insisted she has to use her new glowing green lipstick to match her hair which is dyed in emerald green with what you could guess is also platinum or silver highlights — also glow in the dark! Somebody got a little too excited with that glow in the dark set… just saying — either way, she looks beautiful in that dress. As evidenced by all the guys that won't stop asking her to dance with them, and the few (disappointed) girls too. But she has passed the point where she can have fun with strangers and much like her sister, she wants to spend the night with the one that stirs her heart.

If only that fucker were here, she thinks, with a scowl that doesn't diminishes her beauty in the slightest,much like her sister did a while ago. Fair to say she's mad.

Well, he is on the highest of the school, on a belfry upon which the full moon casts all of its splendor. Once a student here, known for being taller and not a very pleasant monster, but by far not the worst of them, just another face to the lot. He is here as a guest tonight — the plus one his brother said jokingly — and in theory he should be down in the ballroom with her, but he is making it clear he has no intentions of dancing with her, instead he just excused himself leaving Howleen to her own devices, knowing she wouldn't be alone and that his company could easily be replaced. He comes here where he knows no one would see him, in need of fresh air… he fills his lounges with it, enjoying the smell of threes, grass and humidity raising from far below, all the scents of nature swirling in the wind, and then a different scent cuts its way in… A pleasing aroma emanates from the depraved beauty, who is wrapped around by a dress as dark as midnight.

"You know, I've never seen a man so handsome so alone, I think you could use a little company." Speaks softly behind his ear.

Romulus reacts swiftly turning his head around, startled by the ring of her voice, nearly jumping off his feet. "Scaredy tonight, are you?" speaks as laughter slips her lips.

"I was just feeling… pensive." Romulus is quick to reply. "You caught me off guard. What took you so long anyway?"

"Having a bite… looking good tonight." She adds looking at his three piece suit, black and white with thin dark gray lines along the jacket for contrast, simple but elegant enough.

"This is nothing. I feel like a steward in this, you're the one astonishing."

"Well, dressing like a steward is a vast improvement for you," she laughs, resting her hands on his broad shoulders, closing the distance between them by two steps.

He gives a long appreciative look to his new companion. She is gorgeous, wearing a dress made of pure black silk that has been elaborately embroidered with tiny withe diamonds that glitter and contrast strongly against it, making it seem as if it were made with the night sky itself, under the hem he can see that she wears a pair of black high heels (stiletto style) which sparkled just the same, along her arms run a pair of fingerless gauntlets all the way up to her elbows, also with the same little diamonds flickering like stars against the blackness. Combined with her extravagant array of rings, jewelry and other necklaces, it could easily make one think that she's some noble's daughter, or a wealthy heiress of some sort. Her beautiful and dark figure, illuminated by the moonlight, contrasted sharply on both ends with her bone-white mask which is utterly unbeautiful, yet, her mystique is not diminished in the slightest. Her fingers pale, long and perfectly manicured, with burgundy polish.

On top of her head a black hat with a wide oval brim and few decorations, dark red roses and a pair of large black feathers, something matching the style of the dress, which is slightly bell shaped resembling the fashion of two or three centuries ago… an undying beauty from another time.

Needles to say, this is not Howleen, one can tell by looking at them from afar. In contrast, one might even say that Howleen has been born of the moon, its true daughter who has descended from it, while this girl seems to have been born from the night iitself.

She slowly and gracefully removes her mask to reveal her face — an unnatural shade of pale pink but eerily gorgeous, her burgundy eyes glimmer like dark garnets in the night. She wears a thin smile as her fingers crept towards Romulus's hand. His smile isn't near thin, but full of fangs and unrestrained elation.

"I really missed you," says, smoothly caressing the beauty mark that stands underneath her left eye. "Yesterday…"

"I know, we didn't have much time together, it was good, but is never enough."

"Well, we got tonight all for ourselves, no interruptions this time." Romulus says, holding her waist, cutting any remaining distance between them.

.* * *

At last the music stops.

"Can we leave now, please?" Keith repeats that very second.

"Wow, you really ain't pleased to be here," points out with faded grin. "But I gotta hand it to you for not doing anything stupid for this long. Okay, just let me get my weapons back. Can't return home without my shield and sword, never thought I'd say that," she whispers to herself, dragging him to the bar where the gang is slowly gathering again.

"So, I guess I owe you one, you did manage to teach him how to dance, congratulations." Devon remarks with a shitty grin on his face that perfectly mimics Keith's usual grin.

"I hope you enjoyed it, 'cuz it's never happening again." He answers with restrained aggression, then turns to Clawdeen, his voice softening. "That goes for you too, the dancing I mean."

"You say that now…"

"Just get your sword and shield so we can leave, please."

All right, I can tell he's getting anxious, but not quite as bad as a while ago…

"Fine, fine. I'm guessing this has been enough punishment for now. Where's Frankie and what has she done with my things?"

"I told her to go upstairs and put them in my room," Robecca explians.

"And walking around fifteen minutes with this thing looking for it? No thanks, just remembered I don't even know where it is, I figured just waiting outside was better." Frankie replies showing up from behind, tossing the battle gear in the wolf girl's chest, rather harshly. "Damn, that thing's heavy. How did you make it look so easy to wield on stage? I really though they we're toys."

"Don't be so exaggerated. The heaviest one is the shield, and is not that heavy." Retorts, as she fastens the belt with the sword sheath around her waist, then putting the shield on her back before tossing her fur cloak over her shoulders.

"What you need is more exercise, and not falling asleep on gym class." Abbey says getting a stinky eye from her.

"All right, we're good to go."

"Wait, where are you going?" Clawd asks as soon as they make to leave.

"Not you goddamn problem!" is the answer she feels like barking at him by instinct, but she has just enough happiness in her to push back any desire to fight, and answers instead with "Keith's… not feeling well, this place doesn't go along with him, so I'm taking him out for a walk, if the school's is burning or something stupider is happening as usual — because of course it has to — like an alien-demon siege and you need a hero and a god to save the day, we'll be at the cemetery," and there is soundless and implied but you better don't! that all her ghoulfriends get. "Otherwise text me only when Casta's about to get on stage."

And just like that, they are gone before Clawd can even turn this into an argument, hand in hand.

"Where is Clawdia when she's really needed?"

.* * *

Meanwhile, in Casta's dressing room, the final preparations for the live show are just one final touch away from being ready.

"How much longer for the makeup to be done?" asks the blue skinned manager assistant leaning on the doorjamb.

"We're almost done here," Viper replies finishing her eyes.

"Good. She looks frightfully charming!" admits with elation in her voice. "Now, if you excuse us, we need some private talk."

"Sure, I'll get my stuff later…"

Viper slithers out the door, knowing that means they're going to talk about… the events of last time.

That is to say the terrorist attack that almost happened in the last concert, but didn't thanks to, of all things, a stalker fan that blew the cover of the would be terrorist when he blocked his way to Casta… weird shit happens in this world, am I right?

Anyhow, thanks to his valiant effort, the attack was neutralized, the police handled it with extreme prejudice, and her manger got to cover it so no bad press would ruin what remains of her year, the tour set to begin this month got suspended, naturally.

This show tonight takes place only for two reasons: because she's not afraid to get back on stage even if she was the target of a suicide bomber, and because her manager agreed she needs to be seen, but let's try something small first, that's what he said, the morning before she got her call from Lala and Frankie — and aren't those girls uncanny lucky? Yes, yes they… are, is almost as though it was meant to be. Not need to say she won't be unprotected. Casted upon the school, is a spell that affects anyone with killing intent. Courtesy of Safety Charms Inc. If only Bloodgood had the budget for it…

Having said that, the problem that concerns this intern is not any outsider, the problem is the performer herself. Ever since that night, she hasn't been able to perform as well, reverting slowly to the Casta of two years ago who would turn her crowd into animals… kind off.

"Oh my Goth, I slip about, what? Twice in a rehearse and now all of you —"

"I just gotta know if you're really up for it. Is not too late to use playback."

"I'm not doing it again, thank you. Now let me know when do I get out."

"Fine, just don't say I didn't try when you turn them into a zoo, or worse."

"Like what? Turning them into their costumes?"

"For instance. The thought has crossed my mind."

"They're mostly superheroes out there. Worst that could happen then is another Civil War."

"Right… well, you're out in thirty. If you believe you can do it, then I believe you can do it… Emerald Enchantress."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Casta scowls at her, not with grudge, she knows she's doing her job, she scowls because she knows hers are just words, empty words that come out of her lips, while inside she's got a mess of fear and doubts whirling wildly inside herself. Can I really do this? Should I really do this? are the words that echo in her head and from somewhere deep withing her, a little shrill voice shouts… HA-HA!

Really sad when your subconscious makes fun of you because of your own doubts.

But she's got one choice now, to shove down the fear and doubt down and stomp them with her combat stilettos til they die. Because in thirty minutes, she has to get upstage and do the performance of her life… of course such is the case of any of her performances… more so now knowing any could be her last.

The alternative, should she agree to it, is doing playback again, and not risking the safety of the crowd, only risking herself getting caught and labeled a fraud for it. Sure, she's exaggerating since all artists do it every now and then, but she herself feels like one when doing it and when hasn't a tabloid or one of those shows loved to mess with them for months even for something as stupid?

"Damn it…"

.* * *

"Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events? I am the the one enjoying the party, and you are the one soaking and scowling like an idiot. Need I point out that a grumpy attitude and a set frown only looks good and attractive in guys with long hair that is actually nice, a rock band or at the very least some musical aptitude? Neither are check boxes you can mark, by the way," the beautiful and tall wolf girl in the red dress says as she sits next to her scowling little brother.

"Hey, hold on! Clawdia, you got no right to say that, his hair is wonderful… when he remembers to use shampoo… which only happens when I tell him to," Draculaura argues in her best seriously-I'm-not-mocking voice.

Clawd turns his head and glares at his sister for almost a whole minute before replying "Don't you got a stupid book reading to attend, or even better yet, another sibling to cock-block!"

"There is only so much I can do for a night. I already did enough with Howleen tonight for a week."

"Of course you did now!"

"Ok, what's with the snarling tone?"

"He's just upset because Clawdeen has boyfriend." Lala explains.

"I hope you've told him he's being an idiot for that."

"I did."

"Good."

"And now he doesn't wanna dance with me," replies, pouting at him.

"Bad. Bad Clawd. Well, since he won't be any fun for the rest of the night, how about we do some dancing ourselves?" Clawdia proposes her more-than-definitely will be sister in law.

"That sounds like a terrifically good idea," Draculaura agrees jumping off of the chair.

Seriously, first you cock-block me, and now you take away my ghoulfriend?

"Suit yourselves," he replies in slow growl.

With a seemingly perpetually set frown, he stares at his cute and Gothic pixie of a ghoulfriend walking into the dancefloor with his incredibly tall and gorgeous big sister, who doesn't really need those golden high heels to dwarf the, as I relentlessly love to point out, petit vampire. Looking at them dance, he gets a better idea of how hilarious they look together, when dancing.

To make things worse and far more awkward, Clawdia is wearing what most be the hottest red dress he's ever seen (or at the very least tonight), one he can't help to wish to see on his girlfriend… if she were only about at least a foot and a half taller — I swear I'm not going to stop with that — because it is the red dress, a floor-lenght dress made for a real bombshell like her.

She has never been one for outlandish or extravagant outfits like her little sister who always preaches fabulousness over everything, always going with the dress that is the simplest when shopping, but that has never meant it wouldn't (sometimes at least) be the most striking. Her gown tonight is red, or scarlet if you're one of those who say a darker shade makes it a totally different color. Hugging tightly and close every inch of her figure, it is fully backless to allow her wonderful and smooth skin of mocha to shine and slashed up on the right side to allow her enough freedom of movement to walk or dance, no gloves or gauntlets or anything to cover her slender arms, only a nice pair of gold braceletsfaces. Unlike her sisters less is more is her motto when applying makeup on herself, having only cherry red lipstick on her pouty lips — also glow in the dark! — drawing almost all attention to them even with lights out, her eyelids got an scarce, almost-there touch of gold eyeshadow with her eyelashes being the ones with the most work to make them look longer. On the afternoon at the hair saloon a mercilessly chatty stylist had Clawdia's hair carefully brushed into a tangled cloud that shimmers Titian every time a red light strikes over her, and dazzlingly golden when outside the ballroom or outdoors under the clear moonlight. The cleavage has no modesty whatsoever, nor does her jewelry which ranges from an inset of diamonds at the bottom of the neckline, to diamonds on her fingers, wrists and one upper arm, plus a diamond choker, and naturally golden crescent moon earrings matching herher sister's. All these glint in any and every startling color every time a light strikes them, giving the impression that she's wearing bursting mini-fireworks. Onlookers are indeed dazzled, among other things.

Thinking about her new accessories, is fair to say… she's a bit of different ghoul from when she left for Londoom, at least on that aspect. He gotten that vibe since she came back.

The two size-mismatching ghouls dance for about two songs with the last one being cut near the end by the host to introduce their marvelous special guest.

"Are you people having a good time?" the host, a phantom in a high tech-looking bluish glowing and chromed armor with a circular blue glowing super battery on the chest, asks getting a cheerful response from the audience. "In that case be ready to have your minds blown, because there are still more surprises to come! Tonight we got an exclusive and special performance from one of the greatest talents out there, Casta Fierce! Who will delight us not just with an amazing and uncanny show but also will treat us with an unseen extended clip from her new upcoming movie, The Vindication League 2: A world of Fear!"

At those words, the crowd goes wilder with excitement, as he continues to warm them up for the show.

All through with colorful introductions, the host leaves the stage on time for an intricate summoning circle to glow purple on the center. Easy to confuse with a laser display for inexperienced eyes, but to those who know better it is clear this is the visible manifestation of Casta's power as she tampers with the structure of reality to bend space itself in order to make herself appear on stage in a large purple glowing poof of smoke, the result the air surrounding her being burned by her mana at her vanishing-summoning point, or perhaps it is all a show made with special effects, you can never know with this people. As the smoke clears everyone can see a slender young girl with lush green skin wearing what some could easily call a leather bondage suit — you know who's gonna love it, right?! — with a dark purple bolero leather jacket on top that adds little to no modesty at all, behind it a green glowing pumpkin with a mocking and devilish smile, thigh-high leather boots and several knife scabbards hanging along her waist from a belt with an orange glowing pumpkin with the same devilish face, yet none of the oh-so-necessary skirt to cover her lower body, or rather the mini skirt she wears can't easily be seen at first and hardly be called a skirt at all, and naturally on her head rests a tall and pointy witch hat also dark purple — and how exciting it is for all her true fans to see her wearing her Emerald Enchantress costume, not the original from the set, but actually a copy she had made for herself, that is just like the real one in every way, including the awkward ones. An outfit that somehow achieves a perfect balance between sexy, menacing and heroic, or rather anti-heroic, seeing how the character she plays is more among the lines of a spirit of vengeance. For months when the first trailer was released many fans complained about how the boots, though low-heeled, together with the leather clothes on her upper body, give her that same sensuous atmosphere like a super prostitute out for blood and vengeance despite her very young appearance — fuck those guys she says, they never read a single comic of the Vindication League, and have zero understanding of the Enchantress's character that I play, suffice to say she really loves the character and everything about her but to that we'll go later.

"I see everyone is having a good time!" She's is received with unchecked and uncontrolled emotion from the crowd, fair to say there's quite a number of human followers among them. "Well, in that case give up an applause to the wonderful girls responsible for me being here tonight: Draculaura and Frankie Stein! Because seriously, who else would be able to put together this whole festival while being so fucking loaded!?"

As if commanded by spell, the crowd cheers them with clapping hands as the lights point them out from the crowd and their faces show up on the screen, even thought they don't know them, because they deserve it.

"I told her to say that," Draculaura tells Clawdia. "I wanted to see the look on Bloodgood's face when she heard it," adds with a mean smile, shouting to get through all the cacophony of joy from their guest, getting a quick look at the Headmistress's glare of disapproval.

"Was it worth it?!" Clawdia shouts back.

"Totally!"

Not everyone is that excited though. Somewhere among the crowd a black werecat in a sexy by much more modest white and hot pink dress scowls at the stage.

"So this is why you wouldn't have me doing a show?"

"Well, she agreed to sing like half her new album, which isn't out yet and is part of the soundtrack of the movie just for us, so yes, this why they wouldn't have you being the main show," Cleo retorts, making clear she had no saying on that matter.

"Oh please, I had two new albums this year that —!"

"Are you also a main character in a superhero movie that's been set for this summer and has everyone squealing in excitement all over the Internet?" Frankie cuts her abruptly.

"Not yet —"

"Then when you do it, please let us know so we can put you on stage and do so before graduation. That would be highly appreciated." Frankie cuts her off again, before departing Cleo's side, quickly adding. "I mean, is not like you could have been a nice filler with a chance of stealing the show, but I suppose you need all the space for your ego."

"What's the matter with you lately?" Cleo asks with some concern for her friend's sudden switch of attitude.

While the ballroom burst with so much shouting, testing the threshold of its soundproof walls and doors, Frankie tries to call Keith so he can get here on time for the show.

"So this is how discrimination dies, not with a bang at the end of a barrel, but with thunderous applause at the end of a live show," Scarah says, showing up from behind Frankie and out of nowhere, startling her.

"What the hell, ghoul. Where did you come from?" The black and teal dressed ghoul asks.

"Me? I've been haunting this party all night long with Spectra, she's so excited about this show, she's streaming it live on her blog, Ghost World viewers are so looking forward for the show. I'm helping her with it while also picking out random thoughts every now and them to ensure nobody does anything we wouldn't like, you know parties can be a beacon for… that kind of guys."

"Right… well, thanks for that."

"You've got quite a few guys interested by the way, like really interested, nothing bad fortunately."

"I know. I'm the one who's not interested."

"Yeah, I figure," replies in a murmur, mostly to herself.

"Well, if you're not going to pick up, then don't dare blaming me saying I didn't call you!" Frankie snaps suddenly at her phone, green sparks jolt from her neck screws, darker than their usual green Scarah notices.

"Ghoul, what's the matter with you?" asks with earnest concern.

"Nothing! Why does everyone think there's something wrong with me!?" snaps again, almost crying.

"Well… you don't seem fine to me, and I don't need special powers to tell."

"Yeah? Well, I'm fine! I just… I feel… I feel like I just need some fresh air. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just…" taking a deep breath, Frankie turns to leave vanishing around the corner.

"…yeah… I know just how you feel…"

Without even looking she heads for the exit as if in autopilot, and only realizes that she's out at the cemetery when the chill wind pierces her skin seizing her out of her trance. For a moment as she looks around, she believes to be completely alone, free to cry all by herself, then when turning her head around she sees them next to the mausoleum of God knows who (if there was ever anybody buried there).

Pushed against the wall with no sign of resistance is Keith, his hands on the thin waist of his new girlfriend Wonder Wolf herself, Clawdeen. If she wasn't heartbroken already, she is now. Is not like seeing it makes it more than real, but rather just really painful.

Even so, even though it pains her, she hides her pain and jealousy deep within herself with all her vim, and acts like it doesn't matter to her, like she's really happy to see her friend having a boyfriend and that she's not in love with the same guy. Now with her best smile on her visage, she walks across them in the most casual way pretending she didn't mean to interrupt them.

"No problem," he answers dispassionately.

"Well, I was calling you, but you didn't pick up… I see now you had a good reason. The show's about to start."

"The fuck are we doing out here?!"

Hastily and without hesitation he pulls Clawdeen from her arm in the direction of the ballroom, leaving Frankie behind… arms crossed over her belly, eyes holding back tears that have no right to fall — no right to be at all, and in her privacy she makes a vow that only her lonesome self will ever know.

"No matter what… I swear not to rest until he belongs to me… in mind… soul… and body… even if it kills us both, my future will be with you…" to that promise, a little voice in her head answers don't make promises you can't keep.