Sunny - Mona Lisa Darkening

"What's that?" I asked, twisting around to look.

"Some outfits to go with your glamorous new look," said Antoine, winking. "Also some shoes in this bag, and hair care products from Melvin in the other. Ta ta, darling. We'll see you in a month."

"A month?" I said.

"Yes, of course. Your roots will need touching up by then." He threw me a bright smile and closed the door.

"My roots?" I asked as we pulled onto the road, waving to a beaming Antoine.

"He meant the roots of your hair, the darker portion of your hair as it grows out."

"You mean I have to do this every month?" I must have sounded as horrified as I felt because Dontaine flashed me a smile.

"Not the whole procedure you went through today. Just some dye along the roots of your hair once a month."

Maintenance — that was a whole other concept I wasn't ready to deal with yet. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the amazing transformation. I flipped down the mirror and gazed at my reflection. "I can't believe that's me," I mused. "It's not, really. It's the clothes, the painted hair and painted face."

"Most beautiful people do not look the way they do without a lot of help," Dontaine observed beside me.

"You look stunningly handsome without any help from makeup."

"But my hair has a good cut and style, and I wear clothes that were carefully selected to complement my coloring and build. Without all that effort and attention to detail, I would be much more common looking."

"That's hard to believe."

"Believe me. It is far easier to look bad than it is to look good. Effort must be put into looking good, for everyone. With only one change, a bad haircut, a handsome actor can be transformed into a cold and unattractive killer, like in the movies. I considered," he said, glancing at me, "letting you see me in an unflattering light, but could not bring myself to do so."

"Vain, Dontaine?" I said, teasing softly.

"Utterly. With my suit already so untenable, I could not bring myself to willingly give up the few advantages I have."

"It's not a contest or a competition, Dontaine."

"Is it not? Of the men you have chosen, one is the ruler of Hell. The other two are Warrior Lords."

"Amber and Gryphon were not Warrior Lords when I met them," I pointed out.

He looked surprised, as if that had not occurred to him before. "I stand corrected," he said thoughtfully. "However, to return to my original point, how much effort it takes to look your best does not matter so much as the final result — what you can become. Even with the same exact treatment you just had, many women still would be able to look the way you do now. The bone structure, flawless skin, slender build — you already possessed all that. The makeup and clothes and hair simply drew out your natural beauty, made it more visible to others."

"But I don't look like this every day."

"The important thing is that you can ."

He parked the car and came around to open the door for me.

"Where are we going now?" I asked.

"To have dinner. I told Rosemary that we would be dining out tonight." He offered his arm and I took it. And with that one gesture, I suddenly felt nervous and self-conscious, like I was going out on a date.

We drew looks as we walked down the street. How could we not with Dontaine by my side. But this time, it wasn't just women who gazed at us, it was also men. And most of the looks, not all but most of them, were for me and not my gorgeous-looking companion. For the first time in my life, I drew looks. Registered on men's radar — human men — in a way I never had before.

"They are finally seeing you the way we have always seen you," Dontaine murmured.

"I always looked this beautiful to you?"

"Yes. We can perceive you with senses other than our eyes."

"I know all Queens emit aphidy." A substance similar to pheromones. A thought occurred to me. "Do I still have that? Aphidy?" I asked, and saw the answer in his eyes.

My aphidy was gone, another Monère part of me lost. "Then why?" I asked, feeling shaken, confused, lost. "Why on God's earth do you still want me?"

I poised to run from him, faced with yet another devastating piece of me gone. But he was there, so fast, his hands gently grasping my arms, holding me still, not letting me turn from him. His face was tense, harsh, his eyes burning.

"Because you offer something even rarer than power or aphidy. You offer something that few other Queens offer — love. You bestow love on all you take under your care. And intimate love to only a few. I saw it once in your eyes for me, and I want to see it again. I need to, as much as I need to breathe air. Mona Lisa, this one thing — love — you have still to give. Do not deny me. Not when my soul needs you, cries out for you."

My heart was pounding in my chest, adrenaline flashing through my system. Fight or flight. Flee… or embrace the need I saw before me. And the man who held such yearning need.

Love, he said. The one thing I had left to give. The one thing I still denied him and what he so obviously craved. Had I been that selfish, that blind? Had I been so frightened of losing this new love, of having it ripped from me by death the same way Gryphon had been taken from me, that I pushed it away in the name of unselfishness, when all the while it had been done for the most selfish reason of all? To keep me safe, to keep me protected from loss?

I'd told Dontaine that he was too handsome and I too plain. He had transformed me into something beautiful, striking.

And when I thought I had nothing left to give a man, he told me I still had the most precious thing of all — love.

A man, handsome, loyal, and strong, with a face and body that dazzled the eye, stood before me, wanting me, needing me. And I wanted him, too, in turn but was too cowardly to grab what was being so freely offered to me — love in turn.

Are you going to be a fool and push him away from you yet again? Do you need to lose him, too, before you realize how much you should have treasured him instead?

No! I cried within. "No," I said, and watched as his face fell. "I'm through running away… when all this time I should have been running to you."

I murmured his name with aching need, with naked want, feeling all the adrenaline flooding my system shift down a new, more urgent path. Watched his face shift from despair into painful hope.

"What are you saying?" he asked roughly.

"I'm saying yes." And kissed him. Kissed him with love and need. Plastered myself against him and felt an answering tremor pass from that strong body to mine. Felt him stir, grow hard and firm against me.

His hands gripped me, held me away. "Yes?" he asked, his dark green eyes shining almost jewel bright. His mouth was smeared red by my lipstick, like a primitive mark of ownership.

"Yes," I answered.

He turned and pulled me down the street at a pace so quick it was almost a run.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To the nearest room."

I laughed. Said breathlessly, "Sounds good to me. You have my lipstick on your lips."

He smiled sharply at me, not faltering in his speedy pace. "Good. When we're through, I want it smeared all over my body." His words, the intent look in his eyes, weakened my knees.

We flew past people who turned to stare at us, and I didn't care. We whipped down two blocks, three. Turned a corner and stopped at the first doorway. Key in hand, he quickly opened the door and pulled me inside, up a flight a stairs.

"This isn't a hotel" I said.

"No, an apartment building. One of ours." Then he was opening a second door and pulling me inside a room. Before the door closed, he had my back against the wall, his body pressed to mine. He groaned at the contact, that hard, strong body shuddering as I wrapped my legs around him and adjusted our bodies so that his hardness notched against my softness.