Free Phoenyx: Flesh & Fire by Morgana Blackrose

been in before.
    “This is your place?” I asked. “It’s gorgeous.”
    “Yes. But we’re quite open about sharing our space here, Phoenyx. It’s a little bit like a commune – we come and go as we feel. It’s all about sharing and community. Kind of wonderful in a hippie-like way, don’t you think?”
    “Sounds very different from what I’m used to,” I said honestly as she closed the door behind us, for I really didn’t understand what she was talking about. “I like my own space, and peace and quiet. Even at my mother’s place, my room was my own responsibility.”
    She leant in and kissed me. “I know. You’re a quiet country girl. Don’t worry; you don’t know what you’ll like until you try it.”
    I nodded, conceding that point. “Always said I’d try anything once.”
    Olivia’s place was filled with Chinese-style wall hangings, and smelled of incense. There were pictures on the wall, but mostly abstract things that I didn’t understand, knowing nothing about art or any of that stuff: colorful shapes and squiggles, which looked a bit like the kind of doodles I used to scrawl over my mother’s telephone notepad when I was on calls to my friends. She picked up a half-burnt cigarette from the black glass ashtray on the coffee table and lit it up. “Drink?” she asked through a rising column of grey smoke.
    I nodded. “Coffee would be great. I am just a little bit tired.”
    She hesitated at that, as though having expected me to ask for wine or something more exotic, but I really wasn’t in the mood, and I could not hold wine very well at the best of times. The few times I had it with my mother at Christmas and other events, one glass was usually enough to get me happy, and three would have me under the table. I’d also chosen to leave the rest of the champagne behind at the Klub, having decided that it really was not to my taste. Not surprising that racing drivers sprayed the stuff all over the place when they got presented with it for winning – it was certainly better than having to drink it, in my opinion. Having tasted it for the first time in my life, I could not understand why people made such a big deal out of it and spent so much money on it.
    Olivia went through to the kitchen and started doing things with kettles, while she blew smoke out behind her. I got the feeling that she thought I was being a bit of a party-pooper, but I was still recovering from the dramatic double experience earlier in the Klub, and debating my long-term future there. It was something, I thought, that I’d need to sleep on, and make a decision on soon.
    Just then, there was a knock from the door outside. Olivia abandoned the coffee-making stuff and ran out into the hall. Exuberant welcomes followed, and Olivia returned a moment later with another young woman. She looked to me like a character from Lord of the Rings or something, with very long flowing fair hair and a silvery, shimmering gown with a gold chain belt around her waist. As she moved into the house, I noticed the gown was slit up both sides to her hip, exhibiting very long, bare legs.
    “Alfreda? This is my wonderful girl-friend, Phoenyx. She’s just started at the Klub.”
    “Oh, wow,” Alfreda gasped. “Another dancer. How totally groovy are you, baby?”
    I wasn’t sure if that question was supposed to be rhetorical, so I just smiled broadly in reply. Alfreda reached out and shook my hand. Her fingernails were very sharp and pointed, painted emerald green. “Oh, and I love the boots.”
    “I saved up for months to get those,” I explained. “My mother said I was wasting my money. Said I should have used it for something more sensible.”
    Alfreda flicked a long tail of hair behind her ear, which I noticed wasn’t actually long and pointed after all. “Oh no, baby. A cool pair of boots will take a hot chick anywhere.”
    “Especially when that’s all she’s wearing,” Olivia added, leaning against my shoulder. “And then,