The Money's Where the Mouth Is

Victoria Kaz clasped your hand with a grip like a vice, her nerves spilling through trembling fingers. As you helped her to her feet, she swayed precariously, her face pale and her lips quivering—until a sudden, chirpy belch escaped.

“Oh no—” Her voice caught as she doubled over, and with a horrifying lurch, bile spilled from her lips, soaking into the antique Peruvian carpet. You steadied her by the shoulders as she heaved, the stench sharp and sour.

“Wow,” you muttered, half to yourself. “Note to self: **** plus earth-shattering revelations equals... well, that.”

Vicky groaned, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. That carpet looks... really expensive.”

You managed a grin, keeping her upright. “Eh, don’t sweat it. Sure, it was my G-ma Dalia's pride and joy, and she’s definitely rolling in her grave right now, but it’s just a rug. We’ll manage.”

She leaned against you, clutching her forehead, her breath carrying an acrid blend of vodka, cola, and regret. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

“You’re fine” you murmured, steadying her with a soft reassurance. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”

Casting a glance at the lounge, you noted the room’s energy had shifted. The frenzy of crimson eyes and coiled hunger had ebbed to something more restrained, a simmering tension instead of a boiling edge. Even the ache in your own veins had dulled, though hunger still prickled faintly beneath the surface.

“Curious...” you murmured under your breath, addressing the room. “Alright, folks, I’ll be back in a short while. Try not to tear the place apart while I’m gone.”

Naomi’s voice piped up, her confident smile lighting her mousey face. “You better, Boss!”

“Do your thing. We’re not going anywhere,” said Crass, his sleepy drawl familiar, one of the Rattle’s dependable doormen.

Cleo’s voice cut through next, low and melancolic. “Don’t keep us waiting.” The room quieted at her words, and the group melted into casual conversation, though the lingering presence of claws and fangs remained unsettling.

As you turned to guide Vicky upstairs, a thought struck you. Pausing at the door, you called back, “Didi, Hughie, Moonie—with me.”

The Reid twins were at your side before you could finish your sentence. “Well, that was tense, huh?” Hughie quipped, earning a swift elbow to the ribs from Moonie.

Your sister lingered at the bar, her drink nearly finished, exasperation flickering across her features. Yet, with practiced ease, she slid from her stool, the smirk returning to her lips. Her golden eyes gleamed, sharp and knowing, as if your thoughts were laid bare before her.

Muninn stepped toward Vicky, who slumped against the hallway wall, clearly fighting to stay upright. Moonie crouched slightly to meet her gaze, her tone warm and steady. “Hey, I’m Moonie, that’s my idiot brother. You’re not looking so hot. How about we get you upstairs to freshen up, hm?”

Vicky squinted at her, swaying as she tried to focus. “Yeah... yeah, okay, I guess. Ugh, my head.”

Just as Vicky stumbled, Hughie darted in, catching her with an arm around her waist. “Whoa there, easy. Don’t go face-planting on us.”

“You’re strong!” Vicky slurred, blinking up at him. “Like... weirdly strong. And cold! But not in a creepy way. Kinda nice, actually.”

“And you, Girly, are the exact reason why I don’t miss hangovers” Hughie jabbed with a chuckle, letting her lean into him.

You couldn’t help but grin, proud of how the twins handled her. Diana appeared at your side, her arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “You’ve got decent backup, I’ll give you that.”

“Come on, Dee, we’re not savages... all of the time.” You shot her a smirk. “Got some weird alchemy magic to sober her up?”

Her lips curved into a sly grin as she pulled a deep teal vial from her pocket. “What do you think?”

With Hughie’s help, you guided Vicky into the foyer and up the semi-spiral staircase to the second floor. Your goal was simple: get her to one of the many spare rooms, preferably one with an ensuite.

Thankfully, in this sprawling mansion adorned with newly restored antique furniture, faded portraits of forgotten ancestors, and neo-gothic decor, spare rooms weren’t exactly in short supply.

As you crossed the vast landing toward the Eastern Bedroom Wing, a sudden shiver ran up your spine, sharp and invasive. Goosebumps prickled your neck, and you froze mid-step.

“You alright there, Boss?” Hughie asked, his brow furrowed.

You blinked, glancing back toward the West Wing. That sensation lingered for a moment longer, an unsettling, crawling feeling—like phantom fleas skittering down your back before vanishing. “Did you—” you started, but the feeling dissipated just as quickly as it had arrived, leaving you staring blankly.

“Never mind!” you said abruptly, snapping back into focus as Vicky groaned again, her head lolling. “Let’s move. Quick!”

Muninn darted ahead to open the leftmost door in the Eastern Wing. You and Hughie carefully maneuvered Vicky inside. The room was broad and inviting, with a plush double bed, heavy drapes framing the windows, and a door leading to the ensuite bathroom.

“Get her in the shower—cold, preferably. And take this,” Diana instructed crisply, handing you a teal vial. “Make sure she drinks it before the shower, not after. Put it in hot water for a few minutes first—” She snatched it back as you reached for it. “Not too hot, just steaming.”

“Yes, Mother,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as she cackled and placed it in your palm.

Moonie and Hughie helped Vicky into the en-suite, settling her on the edge of the clawfoot tub. You supported her back as she swayed unsteadily. “Oh my god, you guys are sooo nice,” she cooed, her words slurring as another quiet belch escaped Vicky's lips.

You passed the vial to Moonie, who had already filled the sink with steaming water. She winked at you, her fingers brushing yours as she took it with a soft, knowing smile.

Vicky blinked between you and Moonie, her glassy eyes narrowing as a grin tugged at her lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” Hughie replied with a shrug. “You’re already knee-deep in our dirty laundry.”

“Are you all fucking each other, or is everyone just fucking Charlie?” she asked, far too innocently.

You choked, coughing as heat crept up your neck. Moonie cringed, avoiding Vicky’s gaze.

“Uhh...” Moonie started, faltering.

“Awkward,” Hughie muttered dryly.

“It’s the latter,” Diana chimed in from the doorway. “We’re all fucking Charlie.”

"Hey, I'm not..." Hughie refuted, although you thought you could detect the smallest amount of sadness in his usually manic joy.

Vicky blinked slowly. “Okay then.”

An unbearable silence followed. You sighed and smiled weakly. “Alright, everyone out. Think'in Vicky and I could use a minute.”

Moonie fumbled to explain, her composure slipping entirely. “Vicky, it’s—it’s not what you think—SHIT. Oh, fuck, not now. Vicky, look, it’s just—CUNT NUGGETS—t-the fuck, dude really? Cunt nuggets?!”

“...And if that isn't a que to bounce...” Hughie cut in, steering her out along with Diana.

You turned back to Vicky, knelt by her side, and handed her the vial. “Does it bother you?”

She huffed, taking the vial. “No... no, not exactly."

Uncorking the glass vial, Victoria drank without hesitation. A violent cough came hacking out of her momentarily, but after taking a few deep breaths and clearing her throat, she sat up straighter becoming a lot more alert, her lips twitching into a weak smile. “Christ, is that supposed to be spicy?.”

You chuckled. “Diana may be a battle-axe, but she knows her stuff...” You tilted your head. “What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”

Vicky fidgeted, her voice soft. “I always knew there was something different about you. Even before you came back to the Academy... different. I saw your potential. I hated it. Hated you.”

"That'll be the Allure doing it's work on her." You thought.

“The mighty and all powerful Victoria Kaz, intimidated by a greasy five-foot-tall string bean? Sounds far-fetched.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “It wasn’t just about looks. It was a feeling. Like you were meant for more. No matter what I did, I couldn’t touch your potential. And yeah, we’re more alike than I wanted to admit.”

Her voice dropped. “Now here I am, at the bottom of the ladder. I don’t care what happens to me—I already wasted my potential on Chaz and acting like some hard-ass city girl. But... I’m afraid I’ll never reach the top.”

You leaned closer, a grin teasing your lips. “And here I was thinking you were just in it for the punishment.”

“Oh, I am. You mean nothing to me,” she teased, her cheeks flushing.

You laughed together as the distance closed, noses nearly brushing... before she pulled back, her blush deepening. “Awkward?”

“Very awkward.” you agreed.

Vicky winced as the cold shower hissed to life, icy flecks of water occasionally jumped from between the screen doors as you tested the adjusted temperature. “I hate cold showers.”

“…And I hate Divas puking on my antique carpets. Tough world we live in.”

She folded her arms clearly still a little uncomfortable.

“Look, I just want you to have a clear head. On the bright side, you're a lot less jittery than I thought you would be, You just sassed your way out of a room full of vampires what’s one little cold shower compared to that?” You said.

A pause brought the conversation to a standstill "It ain't the cold shower that I am worried about..." She professed.

She softened under the warm beam of your grin. Maybe it was best to give her time to absorb all this chaos. You stood up intending to let her sober up in peace, away from any awkward twinge that you may have brought along with any potential expectations, only for her fingers to once again intertwine with yours. "Don't go. Just... Stay put here with me, please? Talk with me a while?"

Your eyebrows skipped. A simple chat then? You could do that.

And so you sat on the toilet seat, immersing yourself in the throws of normal conversation for a few minutes as Vicky slowly began to strip.

Casting aside her designer jacket and peeling away her cotton top, revealed a stark white lace bra that hugged her perky breasts urgently. Her drunken buzz had clearly trimmed away her reservations, as she pushed down her dark jeans, revealing her toned olive legs and matching ivory thong.

Diligent as ever, Vicky caught you midway through an ogling stare. "Don't you have any manners?" She shot a little playfully.

You had barely heard her, hypnotized by the almost Greek-esk proportions of her athletic physique "...When the need calls."

...

Despite the whirlwind of tonight's events, the real surprise was when Vicky began to confide in you wholeheartedly.

She spoke about her troubles at the Academy and how the fires of gossip about their relationship had already affected her reputation as a hard-ass. You found yourself being just as forthcoming, spilling your fears and burgeoning excitement at taking Harry Lincoln's offer to do some local gigs with her. within the limited scope of your recent memory, life had felt like wadding through a cauldron of thrones blindfolded, but in that bathroom, with Vicky, it was like all of your worries were buried and the thorns stripped away.

The whip of the wet shower on the cold acrylic of the claw foot tub was followed by the pad of soft feet climbing in. Vicky's quick drawing inhale coalesced with the scratch of the shower curtain drawing closed "Fuck that's freezing!"

"Well, your first mistake was turning the shower on first." You quipped as Vicky squeaked, likely trying and failing to immerse herself in the icy spray.

"Oh thank you so much for the technical advice, Asshole. We clearly should have refined my strategy for freezing my titties off beforehand, right, Stephen Hawking?" Vicky spat.

You turned, seeing the fleeting shadow of her nude silhouette behind the pale curtain "All I'm saying is that you're overthinking it. It's just gotta be one of those things where you turn down all that noise in your head and take a leap of faith."

"Oh so you're all about faith now?" Vicky said with a shiver in her voice.

"Only when it concerns spoiled divas of nepotism." You quipped.

A scoff echoed from behind the curtain as if your audacity could topple kingdoms "You know what smart guy, suck a dick-ah!" a high-pitched screech like a crushed bird reverberated among the bathroom walls. The slosh and slap of water on the tub floor proved that Vicky had grown a pair.

You moved up to the thin piece of Polyester separating you and the Ice Queen in there, there was little sound, save for the shower and Vicky's short, sharp breaths. You grinned to yourself "I think this has to be the longest you've been this quiet."

A bronze shaking hand emerged from the curtains' edge curling to flip you the bird before reluctantly drawing back in. "You know, my Pops always used to say... or always says I forget that he's in his right mind—well when he's around that is—' You never know what's lurking, 'til you drag the monster out from under the bed.' Lately, it’s been rattling around in my head... especially when it comes to you. Your monster’s not under the bed, Vic—it’s lying right next to you, and here you are blowing it kisses. People at the academy might talk like you’re all muscle, no brains, but let’s be real—you’ve got more guts than anyone gives you credit for. Don’t you think?"

The hand reemerged as a grasping claw, clutching your shirt in an iron grip and yanking your lanky form through the curtain and into the tub where the icy spray lept from the shower head and pelted into your every pore. Perched over you, like a beautiful bronze goddess, naked from head to toe was Vicky, her eyes voracious.

Leaning into you, her naked thighs flush with goosebumps which travelled up and between her lean legs, where a shaved mound lay open on your lap. "I think, you need to put your money where your mouth is, Dicky-Drake." Her nimble waist curled up like a pristine hourglass into a pair of pert breasts. The hard brown nipples poked into your chest as her wet strands of dark hair danced across your cheeks.

She pressed into you and you were not entirely sure that the wetness that soaked from between her thighs and between your jeans was entirely the showers doing. Only question was, where would you take it from here?