Chapter Three: Daniel

Daniel spent hours wandering in and out of the entertainment rooms of the Vault while he wiled away time. He didn’t really take in any of the entertainment, because the woman from the stripper room still lingered in his mind.

He only wished he had seen her face. She was probably the most beautiful woman he would ever see.

Daniel headed up to his suite just after five. Evening had fallen by the time he stepped off the lift at the penthouse suite, and when he stepped into the bedroom, he saw that the sun had faded from the sky, leaving behind only an inky black expanse, broken only by the bright, harsh lights of homes and businesses across London.

The city was beautiful and so far away from Daniel that, for a second, his chest hurt, and he had to gasp for air.

Even though he was human, mortal, Daniel had not considered himself human for a very long time.

Not since he tattooed the first charm onto his skin.

There was no part of him that wanted to go back to that world, but sometimes he missed the petty normality of humanity. Sometimes he missed coffee and conversations about money and climate change.

He missed dating.

He hadn’t been with anyone in years. The nameless people and beings he had fucked in the Vault didn’t count, because he didn’t even know their names.

Daniel hadn’t gotten to know anyone in so long. He hadn’t woken up next to a partner, a girlfriend or boyfriend, a consistent lover, in years. No breakfasts in bed, no date nights, no gifts on Valentine’s Day.

Maybe that was why he missed plain humanity suddenly. He had found a lot of love there.

Humans had so much love to give. No matter how mundane, or feral, or ugly, or dirty they were.

Daniel turned suddenly at a knock on the door, and he knew that Catra had arrived. He shivered, his stomach tightening, as a spark of anxiety lit like a flame inside him.

Catra was supposed to be the best and most powerful witch in the Northern Hemisphere. The fact that she was exclusively employed to the Palace proved that.

But Daniel could not help but feel nervous at what he was about to do.

He had changed into more comfortable clothing and walked barefoot across the soft, luxurious carpet. He was looking at his phone when he pulled the door open.

And he promptly dropped his phone when he looked up.

The witch smiled up at him with slight uncertainty as he gathered himself, picking up the phone, and letting her in.

Catra, the witch, was the woman he had seen in the stripper room.

Daniel shook his head, trying to get rid of the haze that settled on him before he walked up to her and shook her hand.

“Daniel Carver,” He introduced himself, “And you’re Catra…?”

She smiled. “Just Catra.”

Seeing her up close was so much better than from across a dark room.

Catra was breathtaking. Her skin was maybe two shades lighter than his, and lighter brown freckles were dotted across her nose and cheekbones.

Her eyes were large, hooded and a very light shade of brown, and rimmed with thick, black eyelashes.

Catra’s eyebrows were straight, thick, and dark, and her hair was lighter than he realized. Her spiraling curls were light brown with streaks of honey blonde shot through the tresses.

She had changed out of the dress she had been wearing when Daniel first saw her. Now she wore a pale pink shirt with gold buttons, and a pair of smart, black trousers.

But the outfit was hardly modest. Catra’s curves made the buttons of her shirt strain and as she walked into the room, he swore he could hear the seams of her trousers popping as her stomach, rounded hips, butt and thighs threatened to tear the fabric.

“So, what brought you to this decision?” She asked, looking him up and down. Her lips were full, and she had several gold rings hanging from her broad, proud nose.

“Well,” Daniel said, “It’s pretty hard being the best curse trader in the Underworld and being human. I already have a lot of targets on my back. I need to be able to protect myself.”

“I get that.” She murmured. He led her over to the two armchairs at the far end of the room, and they sat down.

Just then the penthouse suite’s door opened, and several hotel porters and a chef walked in.

“Sir and Madame, welcome to this meal. I truly hope you enjoy it because I put my heart and soul into it.” The chef, who introduced himself as Louise, saw Catra and his eyes widened.

A spark of unreasonable irritation shot through Daniel as the chef licked his lips.

“So, I have prepared one of the most decadent meals I could, all native to my home, the beautiful Paris.” Louise continued, “Have you ever been to Paris, madame? Then you know it is beautiful. Yes, so here we have, steak frites, French onion soup, chicken confit, and two decadent croque monsieurs.”

Catra smiled glossily up at Louise and Daniel heard the chef’s sharp intake of breath.

He rolled his eyes.

“It all looks so delicious Louise,” Catra gushed, leaning over. The chef’s eyes were drawn to her shirt. Her breasts were practically forcing the buttons open.

Daniel ushered the group out when Louise had finally gotten through the menu, shutting the door loudly behind them.

“Do you always do that?” Daniel was clenching his jaw in annoyance as he turned to Catra who was eating some of the onion soup.

He was irritated at the reactions she had garnered from the group. Was he jealous? Jealous of attention that the witch was getting from virtual strangers?

They didn’t even know one another.

“Do I always do what?” Catra asked him innocently.

“Use glamor’s to make people fall in love with you?”

She shrugged and ran a small, plump hand through her hair. “It’s easier this way,” she said. “It is a form of protection. Beautiful women do not get hurt as often as everyone else.”

“Well,” Daniel said. “What do you really look like? I mean, I’m human. I can’t do much to you.”

Catra put the sandwich down and with a heavy exhale closed her eyes.

Daniel saw the changes as they happened. The lines of her face became softer. Her jaw was soft, her face rounder and fuller. Her eyes softened into a darker brown, and her mouth was smaller.

Her hair and skin went half a shade darker. When Catra looked at him, Daniel thought there was fear in her eyes.

Was she actually scared that he would do something to her because she thought she was less beautiful?

Daniel was fascinated by the real lines of her face. She was even more stunning than when she wore glamor.

He smiled weakly as he looked at her.

“I don’t think anyone is going to shit on you for looking like that.”

Catra gave a deep laugh.

“Whatever you say Daniel.” His heart jumped at the sound of her saying his name. “So, have you decided what you’d like to become?”

“No,” Catra stood up, going over to the bed. “What do you suggest?” Daniel stood up too, following her.

He was conscious of the ties of his robe falling open, revealing his abs and chest and the tent in his joggers.

She turned to him, smiling.

“I think you’d look good as a demon.”