Okay, so that might not be the most dignified noise to make when waking up, but when you open your eyes and find five women staring intently at you, it can be a bit unnerving.
“You snore,” Areth comments offhandedly, as she flutters around Ondine’s head.
“You’re short,” I grouse back at her. Yeah, I know. I lost that exchange, but my mind is still a bit fuzzy from the rude wakeup.
Then I remember why I’d been asleep, and sit up to look at Brooke. She’s still sleeping under the covers, and it looks like it’s a peaceful sleep. I’m glad my original outburst when waking up didn’t startle her. By the folds in the blanket laid over her, I can tell that her tail has reverted back to two legs.
“She’ll live,” Angela says quietly next to me, placing her blonde head on my shoulder as her arm snakes around my waist. “Though there’s no telling what kind of mental damage she experienced under the torture.”
“What about her fingers and fins . . . er . . . feet?” I ask. Her tail fins had been cut off, and I’m not sure how that will translate to her feet.
“I haven’t checked her feet yet,” the succubus says. She is still in her sexy nurse persona, white smock, ruby red lips and all. “As far as her right hand. . . .” She trails off as she shakes her head. “The skin has healed over, but the bones didn’t grow back. She’s going to have to learn how to use her left hand for some things.”
“It was the oddest thing to watch,” Lisa says, stepping up to my other side, and wrapping her arm around me. “She was lying there, moaning, and all her cuts just went away.”
“You have a true gift,” AnnaBelle states grudgingly. I don’t know if she would still say that if she knew how exactly I’d helped heal the mermaid.
“Angela helped,” I reply, not wanting to take all the credit.
I feel the room bounce, and only then remember that I’m still in the Orange Bubble. Worried that we might be under attack, I rush to the driver’s seat, but sigh in relief as I see we’re just leaving the water. People on the beach stop and point at my Volkswagen Beatle as we pull through the sand. Their faces of incredulity tell me what I can’t hear coming from their mouths. Once again I wonder how we must appear to them, coming up out of the ocean like some sort of weird mechanical sea creature.
Thankfully we don’t get stuck on this beach, and we’re soon on the freeway, heading for home.
Brooke wakes up about half an hour later, and smiles dreamily at me, before she remembers everyone else in my car.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“Better,” she whispers. She throws the covers off her, and then gasps as she realizes she’s still naked. The other women shoo me away, and they gather around the mermaid until she’s able to get dressed in the odd clothes from Areth’s wardrobe.
When they finally let me back around her, I have to stifle a laugh. She’s frowning down at a flowing, bright yellow dress. It fits her slight curves perfectly, until it reaches her hips, then flares out in ruffles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything like it before, and it clashes, even to my colorblind eyes, with her deep red hair.
I can see her right hand, and that effortlessly smothers my mirth. The last two fingers are completely missing from that hand, and her remaining fingers on the appendage are each missing the last knuckle. Something doesn’t look right about her feet, poking out of the bottom of her dress, and it takes me a moment to realize that there are no toenails.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you sooner,” I tell her, feeling a lump form in my throat at the suffering she must have endured.
She examines her hand, frowning at it, and then looks at her feet. “The nails should grow back, but this is my sword hand.” Her voice is solid as she speaks, and for a moment I think she’s going to be alright despite her injuries. Then her eyes meet mine and her pain and sorrow wash over me. It takes all my willpower not to run to her and pull her into my arms. I can see that she’s trying to look strong, and I’m not going to take that from her.
I direct my car to pull over at a Burger King—with the distorted view of my windshield thanks to Areth’s magic, I don’t think I’ll be doing much manual driving—and everyone but Areth piles out. Areth wanted to join us, but she’s the only one that doesn’t look human. Even so, we get a few more stares as six people pile out of my little car, only Lisa and AnnaBelle are dressed normally.
Just as we’re about to walk in and order, I hear a bark. Turning, I see a small golden dog crawl out of my car. The door magically closes behind it, as the four-legged creature comes up to us. I could have sworn I’d closed the door behind me when I got out.
“Arethusa,” I grumble, but I’m nearly bowled over as Lisa rushes over and picks up the transformed fairy.
“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest,” she says in high-pitched baby talk.
Rolling my eyes, I hold open the entrance door for the six women. I decide to pay for everyone, and we pile back into the Orange bubble to continue home.
Lisa gets disappointed when Areth changes back into her normal form, but that only makes the fairy laugh uproariously.
“We need to talk,” I say to everyone when we’re done eating. You can actually hear Areth’s wings flapping in the silence that follows. I grow uncomfortable as all six women regard me, but there is a lot that needs discussing.
We get seated in a general circle, as I look at each woman. “For some of you, life has taken a drastic change.” AnnaBelle, Lisa, Ondine, and even Arethusa nod their heads. “Your world has been turned upside down, but I want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you through this.”
I stop and address Ondine, “Earth is not what you’re expecting. As long as everyone thinks you’re a human, no one will give you a second thought, but it’s going to take some time to get used to the way things are done here. Lisa, do you think Becky and yourself will be willing to show her the ropes?”
“I called Becky as soon as I had cell service,” she says, showing me her phone. I remember that mine had been in the pocket of my pants, and is now sitting at the bottom of the sea in the Shadow World. “We don’t have room for everyone though, unless Areth is willing to work her magic there?”
“I’m going to need a lot of rain to make a change like that, again,” the fairy says, and it’s only then I understand the fairy’s powers. She must be some kind of water fairy, drawing her power from falling rain or maybe it’s just moving water.
“I’ll have to check the forecast,” Lisa murmurs, then looks back at the rest of us. “We can take in one more, and even Areth, if she agrees to stay as a cute little dog. . . .” Lisa turns big hopeful eyes on the floating fairy, but she shakes her head emphatically. Lisa pouts, but turns back to the rest of us. “I’d be happy to take Ondine in. I could use some help at the dojo, and I have a feeling we could teach each other some fighting styles.”
“Good, now that that’s decided, we need to figure out the rest.” I take in a deep breath, but Lisa pipes up with some unexpected news.
“By the way, it’s Thursday afternoon. We’ve been gone for most of a week. How’s that possible?”
“Dang it!” I mutter. So far, every trip to the Shadow World had worked in my favor for time, but not this time. “Time works differently between the two worlds,” I explain. “Sometimes it’s faster there, and sometimes it’s slower. Has your dojo been okay without you?”
“Yeah, Becky called all my students, and made up some excuse,” the blonde says, frowning. I know she’s trying to understand just how time can act differently between the two worlds, and I wish her better luck than I had at trying to figure it out. Time is supposed to be a constant, right? Well, unless it’s warped by powerful gravity, but even then. . . . Ahh, forget! I’ll never figure it out.
I turn my attention to the maimed mermaid, and steel myself for the news I need to give her. “Our apartment complex burned down. Everything on our floor was lost.”
Brooke looks down at her lap for a moment, and I can tell she’s trying to get her breathing under control. When she does, she looks back up at me and asks, “How?”
“TanaVesta sent a fire ant after me. It attacked me in my apartment,” I tell her evenly.
“Fire ant?” she asks me, arching one delicate eyebrow, and I realize this is another term I’d made up. I tell her about the monster, and it’s Angela who gives us the fire ant’s true name.
“Myrmidons. Their king, Aeacus, is one of the Pillar of Fire’s staunchest supporters. When she can’t use Kobolds to do her errands, she sends in the Myrmidons.” The succubus’s eyes are wide as she looks wonderingly up at me.
“How did you defeat it?” Areth asks me, buzzing up to my face. “You’re too weak to fight it directly, and you don’t look burnt to a crisp.”
“A friend from work helped me,” I say defensively, waving away the little fairy.
Turning to AnnaBelle. My gaze goes hard, and I watch her fidget for a moment, before I speak. “Annabelle, I know when Lisa attacked me, she was being controlled. I could see it in her eyes. You weren’t.” I let that hang in the air for a moment, waiting for her reply. She remains silent, however, and I continue, “I understand that you thought you were talking to God, but we need to know we can trust you.”
She finally looks up, and meets my eyes. “There is nothing I can say to justify my actions. You mentioned that our world has changed. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I understand if you decide to drop me off somewhere.”
Shaking my head, I soften my tone. “I won’t just abandon you. You chose to come with us, to save someone you’d never met before, and didn’t owe anything to. Your moral compass, while sometimes irritating, has mostly still been good. All I ask is that from now on, you consider what you’re being asked to do.”
She nods, and I turn back to Brooke and Angela. “I don’t understand why the thing didn’t control you?”
“It tried,” Brooke says. “I could hear its voice in my head, telling me what to do, but I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt you.”
“It was the same for me,” Angela adds. “It kept talking to you, but you ignored it. When it got angry, and AnnaBelle failed to attack you, it ordered the rest of us to kill you, but I was able to refuse it.”
“I’m so sorry I was too weak to resist,” Lisa pipes up, her voice full of sorrow. “I didn’t want to fight you, but the voice was too strong.”
“It’s okay,” I tell the martial artist, hoping to never have an occasion where she tries to kick me in the head again. I think I understand what the difference was. Angela and Brooke have both professed their love for me, while Lisa only cares for me. There must be something in that kind of bond that allowed the other two to resist. “What I don’t understand is; why couldn’t I hear its voice?”
The four women that had been there during the attack exchange glances. None of them know why.
“Are you talking about a being of pure light?” Surprisingly it’s Ondine who asks. I nod, and she continues, “Its voice isn’t something heard, so much as sensed through the colors it throws off. The colors somehow communicate what it wants.”
“And you’re colorblind!” Brooke says excitedly. “That means you’re immune to its influence.” She stops, and turns to Ondine, horror suddenly thick in her voice. “How do you know about that thing?”
Ondine fidgets for a moment before answering. “Ever since you returned with Lord Varun, the thing has been having meetings with the Pillar of Water.”
“Shit!” I exclaim, and then cover my mouth. I hadn’t meant to use that word, but it is appropriate. Everyone looks at me, some more shocked than others, and I explain, “The same creature was giving orders to TanaVesta while she held me captive. I don’t know what those orders were, because I couldn’t understand it, but TanaVesta had been afraid of it. All I know for sure is that she planned to use me in an attempt to kill the other Pillars.”
“You escaped from the Pillar of Fire?” Areth asks excitedly. “You’re more interesting than I could have hoped for!”
I glare at the pixie, but it doesn’t affect her.
“If that thing is corrupting the Pillars, then we’re in some serious trouble,” Brooke says worriedly. “You said that TanaVesta was trying to kill the others, and it sounds like she succeeded with Fujin, the Pillar of Air. If that light also has control of Varun, and that’s what’s making him act so erratic, then. . . .”
“If too many more Pillars fall, Earth might be in danger, as will our world,” Angela finishes Brooke’s statement. The two look at each other, and I’m glad that they’re no longer at each other’s throats. I guess saving each other’s lives more than once is enough to start a friendship on.
“We still need to warn the other Pillars,” Angela adds, and I see Brooke shudder. The mermaid had tried that, and paid the price for it.
“Who can we trust, though?” I ask. “Any one of them could be corrupted.”
That brings silence. Looking around the inside of my car, I realize that not everyone understands the situation.
“Angela, would you mind explaining the Pillars and what’s happening to your Shadow World to Lisa and AnnaBelle?” When she nods, I turn to Brooke, and suck in a deep breath. “We need to talk privately.”
The maimed mermaid’s chin quivers for a second, but she nods. She has to know what this will be about. She stands and follows me back to the bed.
“Privately,” I repeat firmly, as I see Areth following us.
“Oh, you’re no fun!” the fairy pouts.
“Why didn’t you talk to me while you were in my mind?” Brooke asks, as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Because I was more worried about your health at the time,” I tell her honestly. I reach out to grab her hands, but she pulls them away from me.
“You hate me, don’t you? What you said to me before was just a lie.” I can already see tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping off her chin as she looks down at her clasped hands. “Why did you even rescue me? Did you just heal me, only to hurt me worse?”
“Brooke, no,” I plead with her. “I meant what I said. I do love you. Your safety and health are my top priority, yes, but I didn’t lie to you.”
Confusion paints her features as she looks back up at me. Reaching out for her hands again, she doesn’t pull away from me this time.
“This probably isn’t the best time, but I need to get this out. I know you were there when my parents were killed. I just want to get your side of the story.” I make sure to keep my voice free of accusation.
Aaaaand again she pulls her hands away from me. One step forward, two steps back.
“I-I can’t,” she stutters. “You really will hate me then.”
“Brooke,” I say softly, reaching out and placing my hand under her chin, “I’ve already figured out a few things, but I want to know the truth. I can’t stop caring for you. You need to know that, but I really need to know what happened. Who were my parents? What were they?”
She turns away from me, but after a moment, she starts talking.
“I was only an apprentice assassin at the time.” Her voice is soft, and I have to strain my ears to hear her. “Your parents were hiding from Lord Varun. They’d already been caught in an illicit affair. They escaped his guards and fled to Earth, where you were born.” As she speaks, her voice becomes firmer, as if letting out this secret she’s kept bottled up all these years is a great relief. “I was sent as part of a two person unit to kill your parent’s and you, when they were found. At the time I didn’t know who the target was. It was to be my initiation into full assassin status. All my commander told me was that criminals on Earth needed to be taken out, and because one of them belonged to our realm, it was our responsibility.”
Tears are flowing freely once again, but I refuse to interrupt her now that she’s finally talking. “I grew up with your mother. We were dear friends. She vanished a few years before the mission, and at the time I didn’t know why. I understood when I saw them sitting in the boat. When the time came, I couldn’t kill her or your father. My commander told me that if I wanted to be an assassin, I had to kill at least one of them.”
She turns to face me, and I can see that the worst is about to be said, by the fearful look in her eyes.
“I chose to kill you. I-I couldn’t do it with my blade, and so I chose to drown you. Your mom pleaded with me to spare you, beseeching me to protect her child. As her dearest friend growing up, she begged me, but there was no hope for it. My commander would have killed everyone there, including me, if I failed.”
Her body shakes with sobs, and I think I can figure out the rest. “You tried to drown me in that lake, but I didn’t drown,” I say softly. That must be where I really got my ability to breathe underwater then, from my mother, and not from Brooke. Which would also explain why I couldn’t transform my legs into a tail. . . .
She nods. “I told my commander that you were dead at the bottom of the lake, as he finished cleaning your parent’s blood from his sword. He had been wounded, but refused to let me tend to it. In truth, I didn’t want to. I felt sick over what had happened. We went back to my world, and I was promoted to full assassin. As soon as the ceremony was over, I rushed back to you, but the difference in time. . . . It had already been two days. I feared the worst. What child can survive underwater for two days?” The mermaid hunches over as she sobs, and I place my hand on her back. How old is she? I wonder for the first time. For some reason I never seemed to notice that she doesn’t really age as I get older. I guess she’s always just been a permanent spot in my life.
As soon as she feels my hand, she pulls away again. “Don’t touch me,” she says loud enough for everyone else in my car to turn and look. Everyone but Areth turn back away immediately in embarrassment. The fairy watches avidly. “I don’t deserve you,” Brooke continues, her tone only barely softening. “I don’t deserve to even be around you. You were my best friend’s son, and I couldn’t save her. I decided to abandon being an assassin. It was all I’d ever wanted in life, but when I looked into your gray eyes . . . all I could see was her screaming at me to save her baby. You were all she cared about. I vowed to protect you, should anyone ever come for you again.”
Without warning, she sits upright and turns to me, this time gripping my hands in a painful embrace. Her eyes are red and raw from crying, and tears stain her cheeks, but her voice grows fervent. “Hate me, Lyden, because I know I deserve it, but please let me protect you. Don’t send me away! I—“
I cut her off with a kiss. It feels like the only thing to do at the moment. She hadn’t killed my parents. She had even saved my life, though she hadn’t realized she was doing it at first. I can’t hate her, for she truly had been my protector through my entire life.
“I love you,” I whisper, as I pull back a little.
“But . . . but why?” she demands.
“Because. . . .” I stop to think, and give the only answer I can come up with that fits. “Because I do.”
She tackles me to the bed in a fierce hug. You’d never know that just a few hours ago, she had been weak and grievously wounded, with the strength of her embrace.
“Would you two like to get a room?” Lisa asks with a smirk, but when I look at her, I can see pain in her eyes too. Somehow I know she’s worried about me leaving her behind for the mermaid and the succubus. I can’t say that her fear isn’t entirely justified either. I’ve admitted to loving the two women from the Shadow world, but not her.
“Only if you promise to join us,” I tell the martial artist, and that seems to lessen the pain in her eyes, as she smiles and shakes her head.
“You knew my mom?” I ask, turning back to Brooke. “I assume she was a mermaid, then?”
Brooke smiles wistfully, and it looks good on her face. Her eyes are still haunted, however, and I wonder if that will ever go away. “She was my greatest friend, and arch nemesis. We competed at everything. She was a faster swimmer, but I was more agile. I had been shocked when she chose not to become an assassin, but looking back now, I know her heart was too gentle.”
“What of my father? Did you know him?” I ask hopefully. My memories are so few of the two of them. I can’t even remember their faces anymore.
Her face gives away the answer before her words do. “I never saw him before that day. I don’t even know who or what he was.” She must be able to sense my depression at this news. “I know he was very powerful, whatever he was. My commander had been wounded while killing them, and he was the best swordsman I ever knew.”
Well, that’s something, at least.
“Lyden,” Angela asks carefully, coming up to us, “I hate to interrupt, but there is more we need to talk about.”
Brooke hurriedly turns away, wiping her eyes clear, and we head back up to the middle of my car.
“They catch you up to speed?” I ask Lisa and AnnaBelle.
“Yeah,” Lisa says as the older woman nods. “Basically, if we don’t find a way to stop that light monster, we’re fucked.”
I flinch at her terminology, but that pretty well sums it up.
The rest of the drive is spent trying to come up with a plan to stop the light creature. The only thing we can all agree on is that we need to warn the other Pillars.
I use Lisa’s phone to check my voicemail, and groan as I listen to the messages. The police want to talk to me again, and aren’t very happy I’m not returning their calls. Sheila lance also left a few mixed messages. The first one, she chews me out and fires me. The second she calls up to make sure I’m okay, and the last message makes me wonder if she’s bipolar, as she simultaneously demands I call her back, and tells me my vacation is over, and I need to be back to work on Monday morning.
“AnnaBelle,” I call to the older woman, “I’ve got three messages from Sheila. Have you called her yet?”
She looks at me, her eyes sunken slightly, and I truly feel bad for her. The mature woman’s entire life had been built on a foundation of faith that had always seemed rock solid, but after the events underwater, her foundation is crumbling.
“I called in before we left, and told her that I had a sick friend I needed to take care of,” AnnaBelle informs me. “I didn’t know how long we would be gone.”
At first I’m shocked that she would lie like that, until I realize that it wasn’t so much of a lie after all, just not the whole truth. At least I haven’t lost the woman her job.
The sun is just setting when we pull into Lisa and Becky’s driveway. Annabelle’s SUV is there, driven here by Becky, and she gives quiet goodbyes, before driving away in her large vehicle. I really hope she’s going to be okay.
Becky isn’t home, but Lisa sends her a text, and the short woman arrives within a few minutes. She hugs Lisa furiously, before turning and pulling me into a tight hug, her head resting against my sternum.
“I was so worried about all of you,” she exclaims, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. Then she seems to notice the other women, and blushes prettily. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess I didn’t notice you.”
“Becky,” I start, placing my hand between her shoulder blades, “this is Angela, you already know her.”
“The succubus? But I thought she was a . . . well, a punk girl,” she states, confused.
Angela laughs easily, and as she walks forward, her body shortens along with her hair, the hair changing from blonde to blue, and her makeup changing as well.
“Would you quit doing that!” the succubus exclaims, though she ruins it by laughing. “As you can see, I can take the form of whatever Lyden wants.”
“Whatever. . .?” Becky’s eyes turn to me, and I wish Angela hadn’t worded it that way. “Should I dye my hair too, Lyden?”
“Umm, no. I like you the way you are,” I tell her, before sending another image at Angela. “This is what she looked like when she was still human.”
This time Angela doesn’t laugh, but instead glares at me. What did I do?
“Please, don’t,” she tells me through clenched teeth. “In this world I was a slave, and I’m not comfortable looking like this here.”
“You should be proud of who you are,” I tell her. But still. . . . A moment later, she is standing back in her punk form. This had been the way I’d seen her first, and still strikes me as the most her version of the succubus.
“And this is Brooke, the woman we went to rescue,” I continue the introductions. “I think you met her once before?”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” the redhead says, stepping forward.
Becky just stares for a moment, before uttering, “You’re beautiful.” Lisa lightly slaps the short woman’s shoulder, and she blinks, her cheeks going bright red.
Brooke just smiles, before saying, “Thank you.”
“She’s a mermaid,” I hear Lisa say, and am surprised that Becky only nods her head. “This is Ondine,” Lisa continues the introductions. “She’ll be staying with us for a bit. She’s also a mermaid.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” the one-time guard states formally.
“Ooh, ooh, is it finally my turn?” Areth comes zooming out, and Becky gasps as she sees the fairy. “I’m Arethusa, but you can call me Areth.”
“A fairy,” Becky says slowly in awe.
“Sorry,” I tell the short brunette, trying to hide my smile, “I couldn’t find the fly swatter, and we couldn’t convince her to go back outside.”
The golden colored fairy zips over to huff in front of my face, fists balled up on her petite hips, but everyone else laughs.
Becky then looks around the room, until her eyes stop on me, and I can almost see the gears turning in her head. “With all these supernatural beings around, and the way you helped heal Angela, what does that make me, Lyden?”
“I’ll explain everything,” Lisa tells her.
Lisa catches Becky up on the situation, and I watch as the brunette’s eyes grow larger as the story unfolds.
“Will we be safe here?” She asks when they’re done talking.
“As paranoid as Varun has been, he isn’t like TanaVesta,” Ondine says. “He’ll wait and analyze the situation before acting.”
“Has he really gotten that bad?” Brooke asks.
“Look what he did to you, and you saved him from the Pillar of Fire,” the other mermaid replies.
Brooke looks at her maimed right hand, and then closes her eyes, saddened.
“So, it sounds like there is only one Pillar to go see,” Becky says, and we all look at her. “You’re afraid that the Pillar of Light may be the creature you went up against, or at least one of his minions. The Pillar of Darkness is obviously out, as being too dangerous. The Pillar of Earth is the last one.”
“That wasn’t Light or one of his minions,” Angela carefully says, “but I agree with your point on the rest.”
“But what if Gaia has succumbed to the light creature’s influence?” I ask worried, but seeing her logic. She always has been a smart woman.
“I’m not sure she would be,” Angela says quietly. “You’ve heard people talk about when someone is well grounded in something, or down to Earth? Those phrases came about because of how level-headed Gaia is.” She stops and turns to the two mermaids before continuing, “Forgive me, but we all know how wild the sea can be, and fires burning out of control are common enough.”
“What about earthquakes and landslides?” I ask, seeing a flaw in her logic.
“Those can be predicted, to some degree,” Angela replies easily. “I’ve dealt with her numerous times, that’s where my home is . . . was.” She stops and closes her eyes before continuing, “I guess I can’t stay there anymore. It’s too close to TanaVesta’s borders.” She takes another deep breath to settle herself. “I think we’re safe with her. Besides, I don’t think that creature began messing with Varun until after TanaVesta attacked him. You said she planned on killing him. If they’d been working together, I don’t think the Pillar of Fire would have acted so rashly.”
“Tomorrow, you can go see her,” Becky says. “I think you all need to get a good night’s rest, before going to see this other Pillar.”
“The police want to talk to me,” I add to the conversation. “We can go talk to them, before heading out to see Gaia tomorrow, after getting some rest.”
There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence, as four sets of beautiful eyes regard me. Areth’s tittering laughter at the tense situation doesn’t help.
Where am I going to sleep? Becky and Lisa are still technically my girlfriends, but I’m also with Angela and Brooke.
“This is so much fun!” Areth announces, clapping her hands, and we all glare at her, even Ondine.
“I think I’d better—“ I start, but Becky cuts me off.
“We’re all adults here,” she says, “and if that prophecy you talked about is true, we can’t really keep you to ourselves anyway.” Her dark brown eyes meet mine, before she continues, “I can’t say I particularly like it, even though I’ve been sharing you with my best friend, it sounds like your being this generator thing is important for saving both worlds. And, since part of being a generator means getting stronger through sex . . . well, I know one or two woman aren’t going to be able to give you that.”
Her words say one thing, but her tone, and the fact that she immediately turns and goes to her room tells a different story.
“Go to her, you dolt!” Areth says, and I turn to tell her to but out, but I don’t get the chance.
“For once, I agree with the fairy,” Brooke puts in her two cents. Had it been anyone else, I might have hesitated, but since it is the more reserved Brooke that says it, I decide to go for it.
After making sure Areth doesn’t follow, of course.
“Becky?” I ask, knocking on her bedroom door. I can hear her shuffling around inside for a bit before she cracks the door open.
“I’m sorry I took off like that,” she says, but doesn’t open the door any wider. “I just forgot . . . something.”
“Sure you did,” I reply, not believing it for a second. “Can I come in? I think we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says, not unkindly. “I know where I sit. You’ve got a whole harem out there. Don’t worry about my feelings. I’m a big girl.”
“Dang it, Becky,” I swear. “You don’t know where you sit. If you did, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”
Angrily, she opens the door wide, and glares up at me.
“I don’t?” she demands. “For almost a week, I’ve been here, trying to act as if life was normal, while my boyfriend and my best friend were off gallivanting with a succubus. When you both didn’t come back after a couple days, I assumed the worst, but didn’t want to believe it.” Her hands are on her hips now. “Then, you finally come back, and not only with the woman you went to save, a woman that is absolutely gorgeous, but you come back with two other beautiful women as well.” She starts poking me in the chest, trying to drive her point home. “Lyden, you surround yourself with beautiful women, and I can’t blame them for wanting to be with you, but it’s obvious you don’t need me dragging you down.”
“Are you done?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I don’t wait for an answer, before continuing in a moderate tone, “I’m not going to lie to you, and say that Brooke and Angela don’t mean a lot to me, but I’m not going to stand here, and pretend that you don’t mean anything to me either. Ondine is just another person we saved, that also happens to be a woman. As far as Arethusa, heck, if I could get rid of her, I would! Yes, I saved her from the demon, and I did it by having sex with her, but that doesn’t mean I want to add her to my so called harem.”
I start to take a breath, but rush to continue when it looks like Becky is going to start talking again. “Maybe I’m being selfish. No, scratch that. I am being selfish. I care deeply for you, Becky, but I care for Lisa, Angela, and Brooke as well.” I start to rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I don’t expect you to put up with my behavior, but I wanted you to know how I truly feel. I don’t want you thinking you mean nothing to me.”
Turning away, I’m about to take a step, but her hand on my arm stops me.
“Lyden?” Her voice is soft, and I can’t deny I like the way my name sounds on her lips. “Stop.” I don’t turn around, and I hear her sigh heavily. “I don’t like this. I don’t see how you could want to be with me, when there are so many beautiful women out there that obviously want to be with you. I’m short, not nearly as attractive. . . .”
I spin around to argue that she is beautiful too, but she places a finger against my lips before I get the chance.
“I know what you’re going to say. That night in the club when we met, you made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, and you’ve made me feel that way ever since, until tonight. No, I know it wasn’t your fault, and quite frankly I need to realize that it was a great fantasy, but it’s over now. I—“
This time it’s my finger over her lips, as I cut her off. “Not another word about how you’re not good enough, understand?” My voice is full of steel, as I try to make sure she’s listening.
“Really? You have two mermaids, that both know how to fight. You have a succubus that can become whatever you dream her up to be. You have a fairy, that is apparently quite powerful magically, and even Lisa can kick some serious ass.” She stares me in the eyes for a second, her deep brown meeting my steely gray. “Tell me what I have that even comes close.”
Her certainty waivers as I smile at her. The answer is so easy, that it’s almost ironic she of all people doesn’t see it.
“Your mind,” I tell her, my grin widening. “Of all of us, you are the one best at using your mind. I’ve seen how smart you are, time and again. Heck, you’re going to school full-time, and yet I’ve never once seen you do any homework. Lisa has to do hers while at her dojo.” I drop my voice to a whisper, and lean closer to her. “Did you know she’s incredibly jealous of just how smart you are?”
“If I’m so smart, why do I have to go to school?” She jumps as I start laughing out loud.
“I guess I wasn’t very clear in what I meant. I know you have a lot of book smarts, but one of the best things about you, is that you know how to think. Yes, Angela knows a lot about the other world, and seems to have a lot of contacts, and Lisa, Ondine, and Brooke are all great fighters, but we need someone who knows how to think, and how to plan, if we’re going to defeat that light monster.”
“I-I didn’t even realize you wanted my help,” she says, her eyes wide in shock. “You never said, and I just assumed—“
“I guess I just thought that you knew I’d want your help. I’m an idiot for not asking first. Don’t get me wrong, it will be dangerous, and if I didn’t think we needed you, I wouldn’t ask, but—“ I don’t get the chance to finish that sentence, as she cuts me off by passionately pulling my head down and mashing her lips to mine. Apparently all I’d had to do to cheer her up, was ask for her help.
Her tongue presses against my lips, and I open up to let it in. Mine meets hers, as they swirl around one another, dancing to their own music.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she gasps, needing air. I smile at her, glad to see the old Becky. She looks around my chest behind me, then grabs the front of the hideous blue robe I’m still wearing, and pulls me into her room. “They can do without you for a bit longer. Right now I need you.”
She pulls me to her bed, shoves me back, which makes me tip over backwards. She wastes no time in pulling up and off her shirt, and a moment later, her bra joins her top. I’m still having a hard time reconciling this horny woman in front of me, with the upset one just a few minutes ago, but my cock seems to be following along just fine, as it tents the front of my robe.
I love the way her large areolas cover her smaller breasts, as she gives them a quick rub. She literally leaps on top of me, ripping the robe to the side, and smiling as she beholds my rather stiff rod.
“Oh, I’ve missed you!” she says to my cockhead, and then drops her mouth to it, sucking in the first two inches. She picks up a fervent pace, making me moan as her hand grips me, and she uses her saliva to lube up my length.
She only spends a couple seconds doing this, however, before she stands back up, and drops her pants. “No more time for foreplay,” she informs me. “I want that in me now.”
Words are no longer necessary, as she straddles my hips, and begins to rock back and forth. She moans in frustration, that I’m not already in her, and I drop my hips, wait for the right moment, then stab upwards, penetrating her tight twat. She cries out in ecstasy, and I have no doubt the other occupants in the house can hear, but her demanding attitude has me so turned on, I don’t even care.
Her left hand goes to her breasts, as she starts to play with a large nipple, and her other hand goes to where we’re connected. I know the second she finds her clitoris, as her entire vagina suddenly grips my cock. Even though my member has conformed to her inner walls, when she cums, her vagina nearly strangles my rod and her pleasure washes through me.
Reaching up, I grab her face, and pull her down into a kiss. This time the kiss isn’t only passionate, but demanding, filling a need in her that has been too long denied.
I roll us onto her back, so that I can seriously start to pound into this hot minx, but don’t let go of her face. Our eyes lock, and words can’t describe the emotions I see behind her beautiful brown orbs. They almost glow with wonton lust and desire.
“Fuck me,” she whispers, her face serious. I pull out all except for the tip, then drive back into her for all I’m worth. She slides a couple inches up on the bed from the force of it, but I don’t relent, and I stab her pussy again and again. “Oh, god, I’m—oh! Ungh!” she gasps, and I feel the bliss of her orgasm wash over me. A portion of her soul becomes mine, and I know that we will always be close, no matter what happens.
I still don’t stop pounding her little cunt, using the energy I’ve gotten from her two orgasms to keep pumping into her, extending my own stamina.
“No more,” she gasps, as she comes down from her fourth orgasm. “I can’t. . . . Oh god! Oh fuck. Oh, yes!” our eyes are still locked, and as her last orgasm hits, I finally let loose with my own, not wanting to drain her too much, before I return the favor.
My whole body locks up, as our pelvises are pressed hard against each other, and my seed shoots deep into her grasping pussy. She swivels her hips around as I ejaculate, even locking her legs behind me, driving my own pleasure higher and I keep shooting into her. My fluids flood her canal, and start squelching out of her, but I still don’t stop.
What’s going on? I wonder, my dopamine fuzzed brain trying to grasp why I can’t stop cumming.
Then I see it in her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that just a bit ago had been filled with lust and desire, have an unmistakable sparkling, multi-hued glow to them.
“What. . .?” I groan, my body still wracked in paroxysms of bliss, as I continue to fire into Becky’s grasping womb. With each shot, I feel myself growing weaker and weaker. Each volley of semen projecting my life-force forcefully from me and into the petite brunette.
“So this is the mighty generator that’s prophesied to take me down?” Becky’s lips move, but it’s not her voice that comes out. The voice is strangely androgynous, either a deep female voice or a feminine male voice.
I try to pull out of the short brunette, but her legs, still locked behind me, keep me in place. I’m already too weak to fight against her usually lesser strength.
“Who?” I ask, trying to be as loud as possible, desperately hoping someone outside this room will hear the fear in my tone, but my voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“I have never had a name. At least not since before your puny ancestors crawled out of the ocean. I am not of this dimension, and not beholden to its rules. But that arrogant dragon calls me Aldol. That name will suffice for you to use, for the rest of your insignificant life.” The grin that splits Becky’s pretty face is filled with malice, as she wiggles her hips some more. Despite the rising fear in me at having myself drained like this, I can’t deny how good this action feels and groan again, depositing even more sperm into her tiny canal. “I must admit that this is the most fun I’ve ever had in killing a foe. I’ll have to try this out on your companions. They’ll never suspect me in this body.”
Hearing her talking about taking out my friends sends a surge of panic filled adrenaline through me, and I use the last of my strength to push against her.
I hear her laugh of derision at my attempt, as I fail to get away. Blackness starts to swallow my vision, and still my pecker continues to unload into the possessed woman. The last sound I hear before passing out, is my overflowing seed squelching around my cock, and staining Becky’s sheets.
* * *
“Lyden!” The voice seems soft and far away. “Wake up!”
Wake up? I don’t want to. I’m so tired. Just a few more hours of sleep, please.
“He’s not responding,” someone else says.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” yet another voice states, tears thick in the voice. “I-I couldn’t stop. I don’t know what happened. I-I didn’t mean to.”
Someone else snarls in an angry response, but I’m too tired to care. Turning my mind away from the annoying and disturbing voices, I try to drift into sweet oblivion.
A nagging feeling as if I’ve left something unfinished keeps trying to get my attention. No matter how hard I try to get some rest, it keeps nagging me, and I realize that I’d better pay attention to the feeling, or it’ll never let me go.
“Lyden, thank the Pillars, I’m not too late!” This voice sounds a bit more solid, as if it is in the same room, versus opposite sides of the house.
Turning, I find a blurry form approaching me. All around me is darkness and I vaguely realize that I must be within my own mind-space, which means that hazy form must be Angela.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, she solidifies into her punk aspect. Is she in that form because this is how I truly see her, or because I have just known her in this form the most? The thought is too much for my weary mind, and I shake my head to dispel it. I’m SO tired!
“Lyden? Wait! Where are you going?” Angela’s voice is pleading and full or fear. I hadn’t even realized I’d turned around.
Why would I do that? That was just plain rude of me. “Sorry,” I mumble, not liking how much effort that word takes to form. My entire body aches, and thoughts feel as if they’re filtered through cotton before reaching my consciousness.
Suddenly the succubus is right in front of me, without doing something so mundane as crossing the intervening space. Her hands have a firm, almost painful, grip on my arms. My head clears slightly, as her hands tighten. “Lyden, stay with me,” she pleads, and I find it a little easier to concentrate.
“What?” I ask, still trying to get a hold of some stray thought. Then, “Crap! Becky. She’s. . . .” The last few minutes come crashing back to me, and I shudder as I comprehend just how close to death I am. I know I’m not out of the woods yet, as a strong part of me still wants to just lie down, sleep, and let oblivion take me.
But sleep means death.
Would that be so bad? Part of me wonders. I’m sick of creatures trying to kill me. It would be so much easier if I just let go. No more worries, no more fear. Just lie down and sleep.
No more friends to rescue and keep safe.
The thought sends another jolt through me. Brooke, Angela, Lisa, Arethusa, Sheila, Jennifer, Ondine, and Becky.
But Becky had tried to kill me. . . .
No, that had been the creature of light—Aldol?—possessing her. Becky’s in trouble and the others don’t know what happened, or that she was being possessed!
I don’t have time to rest, I realize, as my resolve strengthens, Angela’s presence lending me a small bit of strength.
“Becky . . .,” I start, worried for the short brunette. There’s no telling what the other women might do to her before they understand she’s innocent.
“We know,” Angela replies, her hazel eyes searching mine. “I sensed a change in you from the other room. By the time I realized what it meant. . . . I thought we were too late. You wouldn’t respond to any of us, and Becky just kept crying that she didn’t know what happened.” She shakes her head, making her blue hair fan out in the process. “Brooke and Ondine are watching her now. Do you know what happened?”
“Aldol took over her, somehow. I could see it behind her eyes. I’m not entirely sure how it was doing it, but it somehow was draining me, through her.” More information seems to click in my mind, and I look Angela sharply in the eyes, making sure that there’s no unnatural glow there. Her hazel orbs are clean. “You’re here to restore me.” It’s not a question.
“Yes, and to make sure you weren’t already too far gone.” I can still hear the tone of fear in her voice, and I pull her to me in a tight hug, glad to have her as a friend and ally.
“It almost was too late,” I confess. Then something else clicks, and I pull away from her a bit, unsure how to broach this subject with the succubus. “Um, I, uh, don’t know that . . . I mean, I was pretty drained, and I’m not, er, in the mood, I guess.” Could I have sounded any lamer?
To my surprise and chagrin, she smiles. “We couldn’t even if you were. Your body is too weak to sustain a single orgasm, even in your mind.”
I remember when Angela had told me the same thing, after finding her wounded and burned at the Saturday picnic. She’d told me that one orgasm would be enough to kill her. Am I really that far gone?
“Then how. . .?” I ask, confused, hugging her slight frame back to me, and feeling warmed by her mere presence.
I feel her shake her head against my chest, and I know she doesn’t want to answer. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I gently push her away, and wait for an honest answer.
Surprisingly, the succubus blushes, as her eyes dart up to meet my gray ones, and then look down again. Her feet shuffle for a moment, before she finally speaks. “You’re not going to like this.” She starts, and when I say nothing in return, she finally continues. “We don’t actually have to have sex, while in here, to help you heal.” Her eyes meet mine again as she judges my reaction, but I keep my face stern, and she flinches away from my gaze. The rest comes out in a rush, “Our souls are already combining, helping the other to heal.”
She goes silent, and I let that sink in. Sex isn’t required while in the mind? Then why did she stop me from healing her before?
Because she’d been trying to let me go, I comprehend immediately. She knew that she couldn’t resist being with me and wanting to carry my child, and so she had hoped to die rather than face life without me.
And Brooke. . . . Sex hadn’t been required to help her recover either. That might explain why I never felt any energy transference during our climaxes. The energy—or our souls rather—were already being mixed.
“It does speed things along, though,” the blue-haired succubus quickly pipes up, and suddenly I’m laughing.
The whole thing is just too funny. A succubus had seduced me and used me for sex unnecessarily, even helping me have sex with my childhood crush. It’s a part of her nature. In all honesty, how could I expect any less?
“Lyden?” she asks worriedly. “What’s going on? Stop laughing at me.”
In answer, I hug her back to me, pressing my lips against hers. “I love you,” I state when I come up for air.
She gives me a curious look after I break the kiss, before laying her head on my chest and hugging me back.
“Who’s Aldol?” The question catches me slightly off guard, and I realize that she doesn’t know the name of the other dimensional creature. Why is there a hint of laughter in her tone, though?
“That’s what the creature calls itself. He says TanaVesta named him that,” I tell her softly.
She bursts out laughing in earnest, and I pull back, looking at her curiously. She hugs herself back to me, and I wait almost impatiently for her to tell me what’s so funny.
“’Aldol’ is an insult used in TanaVesta’s domain. It’s used when referring to someone who is small and foolish,” she finally states, and this time I join her in laughing.
* * *
I wake slowly, groaning at the feeling of needles painfully pricking every inch of my skin.
“Lyden!” Lisa shouts, hugging me tight and making me groan at the new wave of pain that shoots through my body. “I was so worried!” she cries into my shoulder, and it feels like my arms are tied down with lead weights as I try to lift them and hug her back. Despite Angela’s help in restoring me, my body is just too weak to move very much.
Before I succeed in moving my arms, Brooke is hugging me as well, and I give up the effort as too much work. Arethusa hovers over my body, smirking in a satisfied way, and I wonder what the little pixie thinks of the whole situation. Ondine has her sword out, and pressed against Becky’s bare chest.
The short naked brunette just stares at me wide eyed, and I can see where copious tears have streamed down her cheeks and onto her breasts. She’s crying again, but I know that they’re happy tears now. Good, Aldol released her, probably thinking me already dead. I wish someone would give her some clothes to wear, at least. I can easily see my dried cum between her legs and puddled under her crotch. There is also a massive bruise forming on the side of her face.
Angela clears her throat as she enters the room, before saying, “If you two don’t give him some air, he’s going to suffocate.” The two women back away, looking at each other sheepishly.
Turning my attention to the succubus, I can see that she’s very weary, and I wonder how much of her soul is now in me, to replace what Aldol had stolen.
“Thank you,” I yell as loudly as I can. It comes out barely above a whisper. “All of you, thank you.” I have to suck in another breath, that sentence wearing me out, but I have one more thing to say, before I get some more rest. “Becky is innocent.”
Closing my eyes, I get some real, undisturbed, sleep.
* * *
When I reopen my eyes, I see that the sun has set, and there is a slight glow under the closed doorway. Moving my arms, I’m glad to note there’s no pain, but it still takes a bit of effort to get out of bed. I realize I’m still naked as I stand up on wobbly legs and go to Becky’s closet, where I have some of my own clothes, and slowly get dressed.
Just as I get my pants on, the door opens, and Ondine steps through.
“Oh,” she gasps, as she sees me standing topless in the bedroom. “Should you be up yet?”
“I’ve slept well enough for the dead,” I tell her, knowing she has no idea how close a statement that is. “Where is everybody?”
“Sleeping mostly, except for Brooke and me. She’s watching over the traitor now.” Her words are callous and uncaring, making me flinch when she calls Becky a traitor.
“Help me out there?” I ask the mermaid, not certain my legs will support me that far. Placing a shoulder under my arm, I lean on her as she guides me out. Sure enough, by the time we reach the front room, I’m out of breath, and my legs are already exhausted and cramping.
“What are you doing up?” Brooke demands of me, and I see the still naked form of Becky stir at the curly redhead’s loud words.
I wait until I plop onto the couch before replying. “Come to exonerate her,” I say, weakly waiving a hand at Becky. “She’s innocent. Aldol took over her. She had no more control over herself than Lisa did back in the dungeons.”
“But she almost killed you, Lyden,” Brooke counters, her voice firm.
“How do we know that thing won’t try to control her again?” Ondine asks, and I just shake my head.
“That thing’s name is Aldol,” I explain as patiently as I can. “It told me so.” I have to stifle a laugh, remembering what Angela told me about that name. “It also thinks I’m dead, so will have no reason to come back.” I see Brooke about to argue further, but I cut her off, raising my voice, “I won’t have you or anyone else punishing her, for something that’s not her fault. The least you could do is get her some clothes.” Both women stand statue still, and I turn to glare at Brooke. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the accused woman sit up and stare at me. The bruise is on the left side of her face, and that only makes my ire rise even more. “Brooke, you sat by while Lisa attacked me in the dungeons. Should I call you a traitor for not helping me?”
“No, but—“ hurt fills the redhead’s eyes at my painful words, but I don’t let up.
“You’re not holding Lisa hostage too, are you? We all forgave her. You know what it’s like being under Aldol’s control. She had no choice in the matter.” I turn on Ondine, but realize immediately that she wouldn’t understand. She hadn’t been there for the altercation with the light creature.
“Maybe if she cared more about you, instead of getting into your pants, it could have been avoided,” Brooke shoots back, hurt anger in her tone, and I see Becky flinch at the accusation.
“And maybe if I’d been more attentive, I would have realized what was happening before it was too late.” I have to take a few breaths before I continue in a more moderate tone. “We can play the maybe game all night, but in the end we have a choice. Either we kill her, or we forgive her. If she is truly still an agent for Aldol, then she’s too dangerous to let live. But by that logic, we’ll have to kill Lisa as well. Since it was me she wronged, I think the choice should be mine.” I look at the little brunette, shivering on the floor, and try to give her a gentle smile, knowing my words have likely terrified her. “There’s no way in either world I’m going to let anyone harm anyone that’s important to me.” I finish my statement, looking hard at the mermaid.
“But—“ Brooke starts, but at my raised eyebrow she cuts herself off. After a second she gives me a rueful look. “When did you grow such a strong backbone?”
Smiling at her to let her know I’m not angry, I say, “Somewhere between getting captured by orcs and dragons, and facing my fear of the water, it must have appeared. Also, it helps to have friends like you to show me how to have one.”
Brooke smiles back at me ruefully, but it slips from her face as she looks back at Becky. “Ondine, go get her some clothing.” She squats down in front of the short brunette, and I see sadness enter her eyes. “I’m sorry for the way we treated you. It shouldn’t have taken Lyden’s words to get me to see reason, but I guess. . . . No, there is no excuse. I hope one day you’ll forgive us.”
Becky looks fearfully at Brooke for a moment, before looking my way, and I see some of the tension leach out of her. “Lyden, I’m so sorry,” she pleads with me. “I-I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t control myself, and then those words I spoke. . . . I don’t understand where they came from.”
Carefully I regain my feet and shuffle over to her. I collapse more than squat, on the floor and pull her into my arms.
“What’s with all the racket?” A bleary-eyed Areth asks, fluttering out of Lisa’s room.
Ondine arrives back in the main room, holding a set of my clothes. I guess she’s not entirely up-to-date on the fashions here on Earth. Brooke sighs heavily, taking the clothes from the other mermaid, and heading back into Becky’s room.
“Ah,” Areth says, looking down at where I’m holding a softly sobbing Becky, “I see you finally came to your senses, and realized she was innocent.”
Smiling at the fairy, I ask, “Did you defend her?”
“Of course not!” She exclaims indignantly. “It’s not my place to meddle in your mortal affairs, unless it makes things more interesting, and I didn’t need to add to the entertainment value. You all make for quite the fun ensemble.”
I’m about to say something so fierce and scathing to her, that generations of pixies will know better than to infuriate a generator, but Brooke reenters with some of Becky’s clothes, saying something that completely distracts me.
“I just realized, Becky heard everything we were planning,” she says cautiously, and despite how careful her tone is, I feel like she’s attacking the brunette again. Something must register on my face. “I’m not blaming her,” she quickly adds, “but we may be in some trouble, if the light beast, Aldol, knows what we’re up to.”
“It thinks I’m dead,” I reply, trying to impart in my tone that I’m not angry with my childhood friend. “Will he really worry about us now?” I don’t know if the thing will go after them or not, and in truth I’m worried it might. If it does, though, I’ll be here to defend them.
“I highly doubt we’re in any rush,” Angela says, rubbing her eyes as she enters the room. We all look at her, as she startles most of us. “What? I could hear you all out in the car. It’s not like you were being quiet.”
“I guess I’d better come out of hiding too, then,” Lisa adds sheepishly, coming out of her room.
“Sorry,” I mumble, apologizing for waking everyone else up.
“Don’t be,” Lisa says quickly. “What you said was true, and we should have realized it, but I’m more worried about what Brooke said. If this Aldol knows our plans, even if he thinks you’re dead, why shouldn’t we hurry?” The question is aimed at the succubus.
“Have you ever dealt with timeless beings? They don’t exactly hurry at anything on our time scale. A hundred years could go by, and they’ll hardly make a move.” I look at her sharply, thinking back to all the rushing we’ve done lately, and don’t think she’s right. “Listen, I’ve been thinking over the last few centuries with TanaVesta, and I think I know where Aldol started influencing her. Just under two centuries ago, she started to grow a bit paranoid, though not on the same scale as Varun. I think he was tipped over the edge a bit more by TanaVesta’s actions. Anyway, I can see where her actions started to change, and I think it was all thanks to Aldol.” She shakes her head, and I can see a small smile play across her soft lips at the creature’s name. “Creatures that live longer than a millennia tend to take life slower. I think we have time to better prepare ourselves before we go rushing in this time.” She looks around the room, meeting each of our gazes before continuing. “I for one am sick of getting captured, and being unprepared.”
I really can’t argue with that last statement. So far we’ve been lucky. But do we really have time to spare?
“But TanaVesta seemed to be in a hurry when she’d captured me,” I respond, pointing out a flaw in her logic. “She raped me every few hours, trying to grow her power as quickly as possible”
“That was a different situation,” the succubus replies easily. “The appointment with the other two Pillars was likely scheduled years in advance. She saw an opportunity, and tried to seize it.” She pauses to look at Brooke, a sad look on her face. “I don’t know if she planned on killing them at that meeting before we showed up, but I doubt it. More likely she was setting up something that would have come to fruit decades down the line.”
What would it be like to live for so long? I wonder, but can see her point.
“Okay,” I concede, “but I wish there was a way to be sure.”
“I can scout!” Areth nearly shouts in excitement, and we all look to where she’s fluttering. “What?” she asks, suddenly growing embarrassed.
“I thought you didn’t want to meddle in mortal affairs. Why do you want to help?” Brooke asks cautiously. She looks around the room, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out what the pixie’s angle is. Her eyes stop when they get to me, and I see her give a slight nod before turning back to Areth. “Most of us have a personal tie to Lyden, beyond the danger of our world. Only you and Ondine have no real ties to him. And forgive me, but your kind isn’t exactly known for being helpful.” I think about how in games, fairies are known to be helpful, but mythology holds a different opinion of the tiny creatures.
The tiny fluttering figure puffs her chest out indignantly before responding. “I think I’ve been very helpful. Look what I did for his car, so you could all escape. I even saved his life back with the Cyclopes. Lyden saved me from a fate worse than death, twice. And shouldn’t it be enough that I want to save our world?”
I’d only been in danger from the Cyclopes because of her, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Okay, okay,” Brooke states, holding up her hands to ward off the fairy’s anger. Turning to Ondine, she asks, “I suppose you just want to save our world as well?”
“You saw how Varun was,” the other mermaid replies. “Lyden chose to save me from being persecuted for being a woman.” The brunette mermaid meets my eyes for a second, before continuing. “I have watched him since then, and seen that though he is a little rough around the edges, he has the potential to be a great leader. According to the prophecy you mentioned earlier, he may be our only hope of stopping Aldol.” I see the corner of her mouth twitch, and I almost wonder if she was about to smile. If so, it would be the closest I’ve ever seen her come to doing so. “From the sound of things, he is immune to that thing’s power, as long as he can keep his trident in his pants.”
I blush at her blunt statement, but know I’ll need to be more careful from now on. My only worry about it right now is: how did the light creature take over Becky? As far as I know, she was never exposed to it.
I realize everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to say something. I kick my brain back into gear, trying to remember what we’d just been talking about. “My feelings are that we are careful with whom we trust, but until we have reason to think otherwise, we don’t consider everybody to be an enemy.” I realize the mistake in my words too late, as it could sound as if I’m saying Becky, Lisa, and even AnnaBelle could be considered enemies, but if anyone else catches it, they don’t speak up. Sighing heavily, I add, “We’d better get some rest. Tomorrow—Or is it today?—is going to be a long day.”
“So, I can go scout?” Areth asks, coming over to me. She almost seems too happy at the idea.
“If you’re rested enough, yes,” I say, and have to stifle a yawn.
She tries to zip out, but Angela stops her.
“Promise three times not to betray us,” the succubus says evenly.
Areth actually titters at the request, spinning around, and facing me. “I promise not to betray Lyden. I promise not to betray Lyden. I promise not to betray Lyden.” Having made her promise thrice, she zooms around Angela, leaving a golden blur behind, in her rush to be helpful. For once, I don’t regret her coming with us, though I’m not sorry to have her away for a while. I do wonder at her saying that she won’t betray me, personally, rather than the group, but ignore it. Probably just because she sees me as the leader, I conclude.
The leader. . . . Is that what I am? When did that happen? Thinking back, I can’t seem to put my finger on the moment I went from following along with events, to taking charge, but I can see that there has been a change in my actions. Brooke had pointed out that I have a backbone, and I notice that I do indeed have more confidence than I once had.
Fearfully, I realize that that means their lives are my responsibility, as their leader. Glancing at Brooke’s maimed right hand, I promise myself to do the best I can.
“What now?” Lisa asks, looking around at everyone. “Do we just wait for the fairy to return, before deciding anything else?”
“I, for one, want to get some more sleep. As long as we can all agree that Becky is innocent, then I suggest we get what rest we can.” I remember my voicemails, and that the police wanted to talk to me. “I’d probably better go see the police in the morning, and do what I can to clear my name.”
“Good idea,” Becky pipes up, speaking for the first time since she’s been exonerated. “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” I state quickly, and then smile at her to lessen the sting of pain the word caused her. She must think I don’t trust her, despite what I said before. “I’m going alone.” I can see everyone about to argue, but I continue on, bowling over their protestations. “Becky and Lisa, you were with me when I broke the Orange Bubble out of the impound lot, and I don’t want to put you into any more trouble right now. Ondine, you technically don’t exist in this world yet, at least as far as having an ID and such, and Brooke. . . . Well, I don’t know if they want to talk to you in connection with the fire that burned our apartment yet. Better safe than sorry.”
“That means I get to go with you,” Angela pipes up, smiling smugly.
“No,” I try to tell her calmly. “I don’t want anyone with me. Worst case scenario, I would rather you all free.”
They try to argue with me further, but I ignore them until they finally relent.
After that, there’s a bit of a confrontation about whom I’m going to lie down with, but I settle it quickly by stating that I’ll be staying on the couch.
“You’ll be more comfortable in your car,” Angela tries to convince me. “I’ll take the couch.”
I know exactly what’ll happen as soon as I do, though. Someone, most likely her, will come join me. At least on the couch, I know no one will be able to get away with disturbing my sleep.
I’m wrong.
It feels like I just barely close my eyes, when I find myself back in the shared mind-space.
“Angela,” I sigh, “I’m tired and need to get some real rest.”
“Please don’t be mad with her,” a voice that’s definitely not Angela’s asks me softly. Spinning around, I see Brooke standing there, clad in her blue scaly armor, wavy sword on her left hip. “I asked her to bring me here. I know you want your sleep, but I wanted to be with you as well. At least cuddle with me here?”
Despite myself, I chuckle a little. “Won’t be very comfortable with you in that armor,” I state, waving my hand at her attire.
The beautiful redhead gasps as she looks down, and I watch as her face goes just as red as her hair. Her tough yet supple blue armor turns to a slender sleeping gown, flaring near the bottom. The swell of her small breasts can barely be seen between the edges of her very low neckline. “Will this work?” she asks me coyly, the red still suffusing her cheeks and now visible on her chest.
“Very nice,” I compliment her. “But you do realize that Angela is still around, right?”
Her pretty brows bunch together in consternation. “But she said—“
“Oh, drat!” Angela states, coming out of the shadows. “Did Aldol suck away your funny bone, too?” I glare at her, but she only frowns prettily back at me.
To my surprise, Brooke breaks the tension by laughing. “Why do I have a feeling, that when Lyden helped me recover from my torture, you were there too?” The abashed look on my face gives us away, and she only laughs harder.
Once more I’m surprised at how close these two women have become, since they first threatened to kill each other in the Orc’s cave. A real friendship has grown where once there was bitter enmity.
“Well, you might as well come and join us,” the mermaid says somewhat reluctantly.
“Umm. . . .” I mumble, remembering what Angela had said about Brooke not being into women.
“Not like that!” she quickly clarifies, but then looks to the succubus, and back to me as well. “Buuut seeing as how that’s on your mind, I guess I’d better get used to you being with more than one woman.”
“Really?” the succubus asks excitedly, while I stare speechlessly at Brooke.
“No funny business, though,” the mermaid quickly adds. “You’re cute Angela, but you have the wrong plumbing for my tastes.” Brooke steps up to me, boldly grabbing my groin to emphasize her point.
“How do you know, if you never try?” Angela shoots back, closing the distance between us in the blink of an eye, and grabbing both our behinds.
A horrible thought crosses my mind, and paranoid, I turn Brooke’s face up to gaze into her wonderful sea green eyes. The only light in them is from her love and passion for me. To hide the reason behind me looking so intently at her, I bring my lips to hers, kissing her softly.
“Why didn’t you look into my eyes?” Angela whispers into my ear, as Brooke pulls away to catch her breath. Of course, the succubus can read intentions, as well as surface thoughts.
Turning to face the punk dressed woman, I bring my mouth close to her ear, acting as though I’m nibbling on her earlobe as I speak. “Because, my dear succubus, you were acting like yourself.”
“That or you just love me more,” she replies quietly, with a quick nip at my ear.
I refuse to dignify that with a response.
“If you keep ignoring me,” Brooke states, trying to sound indignant, “I might develop a complex, and change my mind.”
Laughing, I turn to kiss her again, but Angela shoves me out of the way, and locks lips with her. The mermaid’s eyes grow large in shock, and I can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to figure out what she’s going to do. Angela takes the moment’s hesitation as an invitation, and I see her deepen the kiss, while reaching around and grabbing a handful of Brooke’s tight rear through her shear gown.
To my utter astonishment, I see the curly redhead’s knees go limp, forcing the skilled succubus to support her weight, as Brooke has a small orgasm.
She recovers quickly, and gently pushes Angela away, gasping. “No fair, using your abilities on me,” she complains.
“At least now you’ve tried,” Angela replies, smiling broadly.
Brooke looks up at me, and I see a grin curl the sides of her mouth. “Why don’t you kiss me like that?”
My lips move wordlessly as I try to formulate a response, but can’t think of one, and decide to take her words for the challenge that they likely were anyway.
Moving back to her, I get a hold of her pert bum, lift her up, and enjoy the way her legs wrap around my waist, her gown riding up to her thighs. Moving my right hand to the small of her back, I press her close to me, and she has to lower her head slightly to meet my lips. My tongue darts between her lips, but when she opens up to let it in, I pull it back. Thank you, Jennifer, for teaching me that trick! After a few seconds of playing cat and mouse, she grabs my cheeks, growls hungrily, and refuses to open up at my next tease.
Concentrating my full will on her pleasure, she gasps, and this time when my tongue enters her mouth, it stays there. I don’t know how long we stay like that, me concentrating on my childhood friend’s bliss while kissing her passionately, but the feeling of my pants disappearing, and my phallic rod slipping into a warm wet mouth, distracts me enough that I release my mental control on Brooke.
She gasps, throwing her head back, and allowing me to nibble lightly on her neck. I feel a different movement near my left hand, still on her buttocks, and realize that Angela must be playing with Brooke, while giving me head. She really is multi-talented!
“No more!” Brooke wheezes, trying to wriggle free of my arms. “You both have made your point.” She looks at me sharply as I set her down after Angela relinquishes my prick. “If you ever kiss me like that in the real world, I may end up jumping you, consequences be damned.”
I can’t hide my smile as I reply, “I can control when I want to conceive.”
Tears form in Brooke’s beautiful eyes, and she looks between Angela and me. I can practically feel the hope pouring from the mermaid.
“We think. . . .” the succubus clarifies, but it only slightly diminishing the joy in those familiar sea green eyes.
Angela and I are pulled into a powerful hug from the former assassin, and this time there is no doubt about the feelings of love and joy that pour forth from both women.
My cock is still rock hard, and being pressed against these beautiful women only makes me hornier. I move my mouth to Angela’s, dropping my right hand to Brooke’s soaked twat. I easily find the redhead’s clit, and press firmly against it as I bring my left hand around to the succubus’s right pierced nipple. Lightly tugging on the jewelry elicits a moan from the blue haired woman, and I release her mouth to turn back to Brooke’s waiting lips.
Deciding to have some fun with the physics of this place, I tilt the world until both women are lying on top of me. This brings a round of giggles from them, and I see their eyes sparkle for a moment as they look at each other. Brooke breaks the gaze and looks at me for just a moment, then grabs the back of Angela’s head and pulls her into a passionate kiss. This time it’s Angela that’s caught off guard, and I wonder that the succubus hadn’t read the mermaid’s intentions. I guess it’s not a foolproof ability.
Angela’s hand drops to my saliva slickened rod, and starts aiming it for the mermaid’s vagina, as if to say, “What are you waiting for.”
Gripping the redhead’s hips, I move her fully on top of me, and moan as I feel her hips start to move. Her wet slit slides up and down my pole, as she moans in frustration that I’m not inside her already. Angela gets the angle just right, and the next time she slips back, my head penetrates her tight hole, conforming to her inner constriction, and sliding in deeper. Her vagina grips my meat in a confining grip, and I involuntarily hunch my hips, wanting to go even farther into her delightful depths.
Angela pulls away from me, but my attention is immediately pulled back to Brooke as she mashes her lips to mine, her tongue diving into my mouth and demanding attention. Her hips pick up a frantic rhythm, resulting in a constant squelch, squelch, squelch noise.
“Oh, Lyden,” she gasps, throwing her head back and moaning in delight. I use the opportunity to latch onto one of her tiny tits, suckling the small but hard nipple between my lips, and nipping lightly at the rubbery tip with my teeth.
Suddenly she freezes, gasping loudly, an odd sensation rippling through her vaginal walls. Letting go of her areola, I look around Brooke’s slender body, to see Angela behind her, and by her movements, I realize she must have at least a couple fingers in the mermaid’s anus. Brooke cranes her neck to look as well, and I can see her considering the situation. Angela doesn’t stop her stimulation however, and I watch as her constant ministrations win through, and Brooke moans, her eyes rolling back, and her hips returning to their frenetic pace.
It only takes her a few seconds before her cunt grips my pole, and I feel her love fluids slipping out around my penis.
Angela pulls her off me, and I watch as she pulls her fingers out and drives Brooke’s orgasm even higher by diving in and tasting the redhead’s lower lips.
Carefully I slip out from under Brooke, and move around behind the blue-haired punk. Dropping to my knees behind her, I glide right into the ready and willing succubus. Once again our sex organs strive to conform to the other, writhing and undulating with each adaptation, adding a whole other sensation to our love-making.
I grip her hips, pulling out except for the tip before shoving back into her, my pelvis slapping against her ass cheeks. She grunts at the impact, driving her face further into Brooke’s crotch. After a couple of pounding thrusts, Brooke loses her balance, and falls forward. With her usual agility, she rolls over, and to my surprise grips a couple handfuls of the succubus’s short blue hair, and pulls her back between her legs.
This also pulls her off me, and I have to waddle forward to re-aim myself. I decide to go for her other hole, and relish the way her tight anus feels as it stretches around my sensitive tip. She wriggles her hips against me, allowing me to move deeper into her tight colon.
Brooke catches my eyes, and I see her smiling dreamily at me. Her fingers are still tangled in Angela’s hair, holding her in place. She pulls back on the handful of hair, and sits up enough to kiss the other woman.
I’m shocked at the change in Brooke, but I’ve verified that that she is free of possession. She truly is changing, and of her own free will. Or is it because of the constant joining of our souls? As I think about it, I realize that the succubus’s soul has been mixing with the mermaid’s as well. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that.
Angela’s insistent booty shake makes me realize that I’d stopped moving. I return to slipping in and out of her tight sphincter, making her moan into the women’s shared kiss, until the succubus’s colon grips me powerfully as she cums, her love juices dripping out of her cunny.
Brooke pulls away, but to my shock once more, I watch as she wriggles under the blue-haired punk, and a couple seconds later feel her tongue switch between my balls and Angela’s twat.
The whole surreal experience is too much for me, and I let loose my load, deep into Angela’s rear.
* * *
The police station doors open on their own and I step through. My hands are sweaty, and I can feel my heart pounding as I walk up to the bulletproof glass. I’m not sure exactly why I’m so nervous, I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to go badly.
Why did I have to insist on coming here alone?
I shake my head to rid it of the paranoia gripping me. Nothing is wrong, they just have a few questions, I tell myself. Aldol thinks I’m dead. I’m safe.
“Excuse me,” I say to get the police woman’s attention, “I—“
“Lyden Snow!” she exclaims as she looks at me. “Stay where you are, you’re under arrest!” A buzzer sounds, and within moments, police officers, weapons drawn and pointed at my chest, surround me.
“Umm,” I state nervously, trying to swallow the growing lump in my throat, “I understand you wanted to talk to me?”
How long are they going to keep me tied up in here, I wonder for the umpteenth time. My wrists are handcuffed to a bar on top of a table; the chain connecting the circlets runs around the bar. The metal chair I’m sitting on doesn’t add to my comfort. I’m not sure how many hours I’ve been in here, but my rear is getting sore.
I hadn’t resisted when the gun-toting officers had arrested me, but the way they’d reacted makes me think they believe me to be some sort of monster. They’d read me my Miranda rights, but otherwise haven’t said more than two words to me.
The big metal door on my right finally opens, and a very plain looking woman dressed sharply in a dark suit steps through. Her dark brown, nearly black hair is tied back tightly into a ponytail and her severe brown eyes seem to penetrate me to the very soul.
Speaking of which, how do I consider my soul? Do I have only one, or do I have many? A question for another time, I think, as she sits across from me. Placing a manila envelope on the table, she glares at me. The mirror behind her lets me know that I’ve probably been under surveillance the whole while.
Minutes go by in silence, as her dark eyes try to bore into me. I must be getting some of Angela’s ability to read intentions, because I know she’s waiting for me to crack and talk first.
I wait.
Growing bored, I try to use my ability to see someone’s past, but feel as if I’ve run into a brick wall. I don’t think she is actively blocking me, but rather that I’m still too weak after the ordeal last night with Becky and Aldol.
I wait some more.
My hands grow sweaty, and I have to consciously stop myself from tapping my foot with impatience. To occupy my mind, I begin having one-sided games with her. I stare into her eyes, and try to guess how many lashes she has. After losing count for the fifth time, I try to count her freckles. I count forty-two. I try to examine every aspect of her face, and notice that one eye is slightly lighter in color than the other. Her left eye is still brown, but not as dark as her right. Both earlobes have only a single piercing, but are empty of earrings. Her eyebrows are thick and untrimmed, but they are separate. Her nose is what I suppose they call a ‘button nose’ which sits above a thin set of lips. Her face is slender, leading down to a slightly pointed chin.
“You’re a patient man, Mr. Snow.” Her voice actually startles me, and I see her grin at my jumpiness.
Dang it, I’d been playing the game so well!
I smile back, keeping my silence. Let her make of that what she will.
Her smile broadens. Apparently, she’s one of those women who neither gets prettier, nor uglier when she smiles, remaining constantly plain.
“It seems you’re quite the interesting man.” She opens up the manila envelope, and shoves something over to me. It stops in front of me, and I see that it’s a sideways picture of something that makes my mouth go dry. I can’t reach the black and white picture to straighten it out, but I don’t have to.
My face is easily visible in the sharp image, and I recognize the surroundings of the impound lot where I’d broken the Orange Bubble free. Angela is tightly grasped in my arms, as I hold her protectively. The worst part of the picture though, is me standing with my dark wings spread wide, my mouth open in an inaudible yell, and dogs just starting to turn and run in fear.
“I see you recognize it,” the woman says, satisfaction in her voice.
Drat! She’s good, I realize, knowing I’m out-matched. I can’t give in yet though.
“Recognize it?” I say, trying to look calmly back at the woman. “Looks impressive. Who did the Photoshop work?”
Aggravatingly, her smile deepens. “Let’s dispense with this game, shall we?” Her voice is triumphant as she speaks. “We both know that is you. We both know that you somehow leaped over the fence with these wings and crashed your old-style Volkswagen Beetle through the front gate, driving away.” I keep quiet, and she seems to take that for assent. “What I’d like to know, is how you made those wings, and used them.”
Wait. . . . What? She doesn’t want to know why I broke my car out, or why I’m holding an unconscious woman in my arms?
Too late, I realize this must be another of her efforts to throw me off balance. She really is good.
I concentrate on her again, trying to read something from her, but only come away with her name. Well, it’ll have to be good enough. The only question now is how much of my hand to play, and how much to bluff.
“Agent Olsen—may I call you Miranda?—you wanted to dispense of games, let’s do so.” If she’s shocked by my knowledge of her name, it doesn’t show. “What do you really want to know?”
She regards me for a second, before reaching out and pulling the incriminating picture back. She doesn’t put it away, but instead pulls another picture out, and lays it next to the first. It takes a bit of effort not to gulp as I see this one. The image isn’t as clear, but I’m still able to make out enough details to recognize the grocery store parking lot, where the Myrmidon had attacked Jennifer and me. The fire ant creature is blowing fire at me, and I know that this is the moment of my car’s demise.
Another image follows, and I almost fail to stifle a groan. In this one, I’m lying on top of my car, wings out and draped down the side of my car as it drives away from my burning apartment building.
“You asked what I want to know, Mr. Snow,” her calm face actually breaks at the unintended rhyme, the corner of her mouth dipping just slightly. The crack in her façade lasts only a second, before she’s all cool business again. “It’s simple, really. I want to know what you are.” Her brown eyes pierce me again, and I have to look down at the images, in order not to crack under their glare.
What can I tell her that she’ll believe? The truth is too far-fetched, but the evidence is in those pictures. Can I tell her the wings are just a mechanical attachment? A quick glance up at her face tells me I’d better not try. If I tell her what I am, and about the Shadow World, she’ll have me locked up in a loony bin. Or worse, if she believes me, I’ll find myself being studied by scientists, and possibly dissected. I guess there is only one thing to do, and hope it doesn’t get me locked up in a psyche ward. I’m way too weak to break out of here.
“I’m the child of a mermaid, and something else,” I begin. I have to force the words past my throat, afraid of having this woman throw me even more off balance. “I don’t know what my father was. I seem to have the powers of an incubus as well, so maybe that’s what he was. They’re dead now, so I can’t exactly ask him. Everyone calls me a generator, though, so maybe that’s what I am.” I raise my eyes to see how my admission is affecting her, but she still has on her calm exterior, except for her eyes. Those mismatched brown orbs are glowing with an inner light that strikes me as different from Aldol. “You wanted to know what I am? I’m apparently an abomination that shouldn’t exist, but seem to be the only person that can save two worlds.”
I meet her slightly mismatched eye, feeling defiant inside, just daring her to look away. Instead, she smiles.
“That was a lot easier than usual,” she states evenly. “Normally we have to drag confessions out of you monsters with various torture techniques.” Her voice could be talking about the weather, she’s so calm. “Of course, most of your kind are better at hiding than you seem to be. It’s not very often we get photo evidence of what you are.”
“Wait,” I say, shaking my head to clear it, “you believe me?”
She deigns to give me a condescending smile before speaking. “The Daughters of Respite have always been vigilant against your ilk.”
I don’t like the way she said that.
“My . . . ilk?” I stammer. “Look, I think you have the wrong idea about me. I’m not a monster! I’m trying to save lives!”
“Like those twelve that died in your apartment fire?” she asks, raising one thick eyebrow. “Or what about all the property damage you caused at that grocery store?” She pushes the picture of me holding Angela in my arms forward, before stabbing her finger down at the comatose succubus. “She doesn’t exactly look too alive right there.” Anger seeps into her voice, and it’s all the worse for following after the calm.
“The fire wasn’t my fault,” I exclaim defensively, “and Angela is still alive. I had to get her to my car to save her life!”
That eyebrow rises again before she responds, her voice even once more. “How many women have you seduced with that line? It is your fault, Mr. Snow. If you hadn’t been in our world, then that fire never would have happened. That poor woman never would have needed your help. We rested this world away from you and your kind. You can be damned certain we’re not going to give it up now.”
This woman seems to be very knowledgeable about the past. Who is she? She’d called herself a member of the Daughters of Respite, whoever they are. This is definitely the last thing I expected when the police had brought me in here.
“I don’t know what you think you know,” I say hesitantly, “but I was born here on Earth. I’m not a monster feeding on hapless prey. Earth and the Shadow World are both in danger, and I may be the only one that can save either one.”
She gives a bark of laughter that’s nearly as startling as her anger had been a minute ago. “Many of the things from your world have birth certificates here. It’s actually a fairly easy thing to fake. But you want me to believe you’re important because you’re this generator? We’ve heard the prophecy your kind made up. Do you really think we’re that gullible? The Daughters of Respite have been protecting Earth for a millennium. We’re not so easily fooled by simple words.”
“But I’m telling the truth!” I yell at her, my patience finally lost. It’s so frustrating to sit here; handcuffed and weak, telling the truth to someone who refuses to even acknowledge she might not have all the facts. “A light demon call Aldol is trying to collapse the Shadow World. I—“
“Good,” she cuts me off, a malicious gleam in her eyes. “Let that demented world collapse. Let all those monsters die in the world they escaped justice to.”
“You don’t understand,” I cry out. “If the Shadow World collapses, then it’s just as likely that all of those creatures, both good and bad, will be forced back to our world. It’ll be catastrophic if that happens.”
“Our world?” Derision is thick in her voice now. “Do not presume that you can call this world your ‘home’ vile monster. You claim that both good and bad monsters will come here, but there are no good monsters. I’m done listening to your lies.” Agent Olsen slips the pictures back into the manila envelope, and stands to leave. “I have a report to file with my fellow sisters.”
I try to stand and stop her, but the handcuffs stop me. Concentrating my will on her again, I try to get her to stop, and feel myself growing weaker. I can’t have her reporting to some group that is hell-bent on killing all creatures from the Shadow World. If she kills me, and I really am the one that’s been prophesied about, then both worlds are in serious trouble, and I may be the only one that can save them.
She pauses at the door, and I think my efforts to stop her are working.
“Of course,” she states hesitantly, “if you were willing to lead us to one of the portals to your world, we would be willing to take you back there. You’d have to watch as we kill everything we find, but at least you’d live that much longer.”
“Damn it!” I swear, frustration making me slip into using poor language. Helplessly I stare at her, wishing that there was something more I could do than just sit here handcuffed to this table.
She turns to look at me, to see how I’m taking her proposal, and our eyes meet.
Miranda Olsen had been a little girl when she’d watched her parents die. The images from that night still haunt her. The spray of blood as her mother’s throat was ripped open by a set of sharp fangs. Her father screaming for Miranda to run, before a furry creature knocks him over, and begins gleefully tearing out his entrails.
The moon had been high and full in the cloudless summer night sky. They had been camping up in the mountains, enjoying the millions of stars that can only be seen away from civilization. The attack had come unexpectedly. The only reason she had been in the small camper instead of by the fire with her father, mother, and brother, was because she had gone in to grab a soda.
She’d heard the howls, followed by her mother’s scream, suddenly cut short. Terrified, she’d hidden under the table/bunk. Even when the howls of feasting had turned to yelps of alarm, she refused to come out, ignoring her father’s pleas to run in her terror. It wasn’t until a gore spattered older woman entered with an equally gore covered sword in hand, and she involuntarily gasped in fright, that she truly became afraid, voiding her bladder.
The older woman spun to face her, brandishing a shiny sword, and staring down at the girl. She had been kind, checking over Miranda and making sure she hadn’t been hurt. A blindfold was placed over her eyes before they carried her out of there, but it was already too late. The violence of the scene was already imprinted indelibly in her memory.
It wasn’t until many years later that she found out her brother’s body was never found.
If I wasn’t already sitting, my legs would have given way beneath me. I feel even weaker than I had been before the police took me into custody. I understand this plain looking woman a lot more than I had just a few moments before. No wonder she hates me so much, hates all creatures that aren’t one-hundred percent human.
Before I have the chance to say anything, she turns and walks from the room. Dejected and full of despair, I drop my head to my arms and try not to think about my fate.
The door opens a few seconds later, and I refuse to look up. I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing how I truly feel right now.
She grabs my right wrist, and I can feel her playing with the lock on my restraints. Maybe if I time it right, I’ll be able to disarm her and fight my way out.
As soon as my hand is free, I stand in a rush, throwing the last bit of my energy into grabbing her throat and throwing her back.
I see that it isn’t Miranda, but a young female cop instead. She hits the back wall, as I pull the cuff still attached to my left wrist away from the bar and head over to the downed officer to grab her gun.
“Lyden,” the cop gasps, making me freeze, “it’s me, Angela.”
“Angela?” I ask, stunned. Looking closer at her, I can see that she’s quite attractive. I’ve never seen her as a cop before, and wonder who was having a cop fantasy to help her come in here disguised like this. Her blonde hair is disheveled from my attack, parts of it sticking out of the bun in the back of her head. She looks up at me, and I can see that her rich blue eyes are framed by long lashes. There is no mistaking the look of love behind those eyes though, and I know it’s her. Terrible guilt for attacking her seethes through me, but how was I supposed to know it was her?
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea it was you!” I gasp, bending over, and trying to help her up.
“Never mind that now,” she groans as I help her back to her feet. “Damn, those lessons with Lisa have really helped you out.” She shakes her head to clear it while rubbing her throat, and then looks fearfully at me. “We need to get you out of here now! There’s a DOR out there, and they aren’t known for being friendly with anyone with ties to my world.”
It takes me a moment to realize she was pronouncing the initials for Daughters of Respite, and not saying that there’s a door that won’t open for us.
“Yeah, I met her,” I grumble. “I don’t think she likes me very much, and I’m usually so good with women.”
Angela’s smile dazzles across her face, and I feel myself warmed by it. It only lasts for a moment before she looks at my wrist and frowns. “We need to get you out of here before she returns. Those women are dangerous.”
I get anxious when the succubus locks the handcuff loosely behind my back, but know that we need to keep up some kind of appearance to make it out of here. If only I could go invisible like her.
She walks me out in front of her and down a long hallway. We enter the office area and I wait for someone to yell out that we aren’t supposed to be out here.
The trouble comes from a different angle.
“Officer Jenkins, what’re you doing out here? I thought I just saw you in the break room.”
Angela curses softly behind me, and I comprehend that she’d taken the image of another officer in this precinct. By the tone of this officer, I suspect he’d been the one fantasizing about Officer Jenkins.
“I just need to run him out real quick,” Angela says behind me, keeping her calm. “I’ll be back in a second. There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.” Her voice becomes a little solicitous at the end, and I find myself growing irrationally jealous. I know she’s just pretending, but it still galls me to hear a woman I love act like that for someone else.
Yeah, I know, double standards. The women I’m with are okay with me being with other women, but I have an issue with them even fake flirting. At least I’m not trying to rule every second of their lives.
“What do you mean?” an identical voice to Angela’s current one states, but this one coming from the other side of the male cop.
“Shit!” I hear the succubus curse under her breath. “Hurry,” she adds, prodding me to go faster ahead of her.
“What the fuck?” someone else exclaims. “I didn’t know you had a twin, Jenkins.”
“I don’t,” the real Jenkins says, her tone confused. “What’s she doing?”
“Run!” Angela yells, and I slip my hand out of the loose right cuff, and follow her advice.
“Stop them!” I hear Miranda yell behind us and double my speed. “Shoot them, dammit! Don’t let them get away!”
No gunshots sound off, however, and we reach a door that is magnetically locked. Angela pulls out an ID card with the real Officer Jenkins’s image on it, flashing it across the sensor, and opening the door.
The Orange Bubble is waiting just outside, running and with the doors open. We waste no time jumping into it, before commanding the Orange Bubble to get moving.
I rush to the back of my car, looking out the large window. Through the distortion of my magically modified car, I’m able to make out cops rushing out of the building, and looking around for us. They stop in consternation, unable to see where we went.
“Why didn’t they shoot at us?” I ask the succubus as I head back to the front.
“They couldn’t,” she says. “We didn’t pose any real threat to them, so they couldn’t use lethal force. Also, there were officers all around us, and they risked hitting one of their own.”
Thank goodness for laws and honest cops, I think to myself. What am I going to do now, though? I’m likely to go on a terrorist watch list or something. I guess I’m not going back to work after all, come Monday. Sheila’s going to be upset, and I wonder what Jennifer is going to think about my absence.
“Angela,” I say, getting an idea, “I need to make a call. Know where I can borrow a phone?”
Without blinking she reaches into her breast pocket and pulls out a small cell phone, with Hello Kitty on the cover.
“Where. . .?” I ask her, wondering why she would have a mobile phone.
“Just because I was born four-hundred years ago, doesn’t mean I can’t be a modern girl,” she laughingly says. “Besides, the good officer Jenkins had it on her when I copied her image. Anyone you call with it will appear as if it’s coming from her.”
I hesitate only a moment, hoping that we haven’t already gotten the female cop into trouble, before turning it on. The background image on her home screen shows her with some man, not the officer that’d been fantasizing about her, and a tiny baby that is obviously her daughter.
I dial the police station that we’d just escaped from, and wait for the operator. As soon as he answers, I ask for the captain of the station.
“This is Captain Jewkes,” a male voice answers a couple seconds later.
“Captain Jewkes,” I say as calmly as I can, my heart pounding like a drum, “this is Lyden Snow.”
There is silence for a moment, and I can only imagine him waving at someone to start doing a line trace. I’m not sure if that’s what’s really happening, but I hope the clone of Jenkins’s phone works enough to throw them off our trail. Regardless of the cause for the pause, he starts speaking a couple seconds later.
“Mr. Snow, you ran out of here in such a hurry, we didn’t get the chance to properly talk before.” His voice is even and calm making me wonder if they train all officers to be able to talk so easily. “Why don’t you come back, and we can have a nice little chat.”
“I sat there for I don’t know how long,” I reply, trying to mimic his easy banter, “and the only person who came in, threatened to call her friends and have me executed before I ever made it to trial.”
There is another silence as my statement sinks in.
“I didn’t start the fire at my apartment complex, Captain. Those twelve deaths were not my fault,” I continue, wanting to get my side of the story out.
“When you were in here before, you stated that you were gone when the fires happened. You can see how we might jump to conclusions when we find video evidence to the contrary.” I can hear him draw in a breath at the other end before he continues. “I’m willing to listen to what you have to say, Mr. Snow, but you have to understand how your situation looks right now.”
He sounds so sincere, I’m almost tempted to go back, but know it for a lost cause.
“Not as long as Agent Olsen is there,” I tell him calmly. “That woman wants me dead. She made that very clear.”
I can hear a commotion in the background, and a moment later a female voice cries out. They’ve found Jenkins and her phone.
Time for some damage control. “Officer Jenkins had no part to play in what happened at your station,” I tell the captain. “We borrowed her image and cloned her phone without her consent. I’m truly sorry for any trouble this causes her, but I want you to know she is completely innocent.”
“How did you . . .” his voice trails off, and for the first time I realize he’s slightly shaken. Apparently a phone trace is supposed to break through someone cloning a phone.
“Look,” I say calmly, “I’m willing to talk to someone, but not if it is around Agent Olsen. That woman scares me, I don’t mind telling you. If after I’ve explained the whole truth, you still want to arrest me, I’ll go peacefully. But before that, I want you to watch and listen to the video of her interview of me. I think it will prep you for what I’ll have to say, and you’ll see what I mean by Agent Olsen’s behavior. I’ll call you back tomorrow.” I don’t wait for a response, before hanging up.
“Do you really think he’ll give you a fair listen?” Angela asks me.
“No, but what choice do I have? Become hunted in both worlds?” I ask resignedly, before sitting next to her and watching the distorted scenery zoom by.
Opening the phone, I make another call; this one going to voicemail.
“Sheila, this is Lyden. The police are after me, so I won’t be able to come in to work until I can clear my name. I understand if this means I’m fired, again. I don’t have my phone, but I can listen to my voicemails. Take care.” I hang up, unable to think of what else to say.
I have to look up the next number, going into my Google account to find it.
“Hello?” Jennifer answers the other end, and I have to think to figure out what to say. Part of me had hoped to get her voicemail as well.
“Jennifer, it’s Lyden,” I say carefully, not sure how she feels about me currently. She’d made it clear that we aren’t going to be an item, but she had helped me out, taking out the Myrmidon, and I wanted to warn her in case the police come for her next.
“Lyden!” she exclaims, sounding happy to hear from me. “I take it you’re back from that other world?”
“Um, yes. . . .” I reply hesitantly, not sure how to go about this. I’d forgotten that I’d told her everything I knew at the time. She must have realized that with my extended absence from work, that’d been where I was. “Listen, the police are after me again. They think I was the cause of the fire.”
“That’s crazy!” she states confidently. “You’re great at causing a fire in my loins, but those cocksuckers need to pull their heads out of their ass and realize it was that fire thing that was trying to kill you.”
I flinch inwardly at her expletives concerning the boys in blue. Personally I appreciate the cops. Until now I’ve never really been on their wrong side.
“I know,” I respond to the crass woman, “but it’s not exactly as though they can question the thing, so I look like the guilty one.”
“So . . . what are you telling me, Lyden?” she grows hesitant as she asks me.
“I’m telling you that I may be away for awhile, and to keep your head up. You saved my tail, and I owe you. I don’t want you getting into trouble for it,” I warn her.
“There’s a lot more I’d like to do with your tail,” she states solicitously, “but thanks for the heads up. You’re innocent, Lyden, and if the po-po come talk to me, I’ll tell them as much, too.”
“Thanks Jennifer,” I say appreciatively. Hanging up, I hand the phone back to Angela.
“You know,” the succubus states beside me, and I have a feeling I already know what she’s going to say, “we don’t have to rush straight back.”
“If you’re going to propose sex,” I reply dryly, “I’m going to have to wonder why you aren’t already naked.”
She veritably giggles as she throws herself at me. Her arms slip around my neck, and I feel her lips press against mine, her tongue diving between my teeth, demanding attention.
“You’re insatiable,” I tell her happily when we break for air. After the mood I’d been in, this is just what I need to cheer me up. Of course, I could use the recharge as well. Looking into her deep blue eyes, I feel a little guilty for making out with the form of the officer that is likely in some hot water because of me, and probably married to boot. “Would you mind changing back to your original form?” I ask, wanting to make love to the true Angela.
“Oh, Lyden,” She gushes, but shakes her head. “If I change from this form, we’ll lose the phone, and I don’t think you want to get someone else into trouble if I copy them. I know you need to call tomorrow, so you’ll just have to suffer through this pretty body I’ve copied.”
“Well, it’ll be a hardship, but if I must, I must,” I tell her, smiling widely. I still feel guilty, but I must admit that the thought of making it with a cop is a bit of a turn on. In fact. . . . “Come on,” I tell her, standing and leading her to the bed in the back of my car. I fish in her pockets, until I can find the key to the cuffs still attached to my left wrist, and unlock it.
I hold them up to her, and she smiles lustily at me. “I didn’t think you had that in you.” Something sparks the memory of her past, about being abused as a slave, and I hesitate. “Relax,” she coos lovingly at me. “That was a very long time ago. I know you love me, and have no intention of hurting me.” The trust I hear in her voice and see in her long lashed eyes warms me to the core.
“I love you, Angela,” I whisper, pulling her body to me, while kissing her deeply. Her left leg slips around my right one and she pulls me back and onto her, on the bed.
She giggles as I start to undo the buttons on her top, before pushing me away. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asks, glancing at the handcuffs where they’d fallen next to us.
Grinning at her, I grab the metal rings, and latch one around her slender wrist. We slide up further on the bed, and I slip the chain around one of the bars at the top, latching the other end around her free wrist.
“You’re forgetting something else,” she laughs, wriggling her legs. Searching her clothing, I find two more sets of cuffs, these with longer chains. Unsurprisingly, the longer chains are just right to latch each ankle to the bedposts at the bottom. She wiggles for a second, pulling on each limb, before smiling at me again. “What are you waiting for, lover?”
Deciding to really get into this, I dispense with unbuttoning her top, and simply rip it open, exposing a pale flat stomach beneath, and a thick gray bra. Roughly I pull the bra up, exposing firm C-cup breasts. Her areolas are about the size of quarters, the nipples already taught and standing proud. I latch onto her left breast, and don’t expect the flood that enters my mouth as I suck.
“How do you like?” Angela asks, moaning. “Apparently the good officer is still breastfeeding.”
Wordlessly I answer by sucking harder, and swallowing the warm, slightly sweet substance down my throat. My hands frantically begin working at her waist, trying to get her pants undone. Once opened however, I can’t get them pulled down her spread legs. Right now I’m still too weak to tear them off her, so I guess I’ll just have to make her cum, and get them off when our souls mingle.
Switching nipples, I slip my hand down the front or her drawers, and find only a slim strip of crinkly hair, before I reach her already wet snatch.
The officer-clad succubus begins to buck beneath me, as I find her clitoris, and vigorously move my hands against it. Sensing her growing close to climax, I suck hard on her nipple, filling my mouth with her warm milk, then moving up and kissing her. The almost sweet milk fills her mouth as our tongues churn the warm liquid, and our joined lips muffle her moans as she peaks.
As soon as I feel energy pour into my body, I use it to tear her pants apart, splitting them along the seam at the crotch. I leave her light pink panties alone for now, but don’t miss the Hello-Kitty emblem on her right hip. Apparently Officer Jenkins has a softer side.
“Mmm,” Angela moans throatily, licking her lips. “We’ve tasted my milk, now I want to taste yours!”
Knowing she wants my cock, and not my nipples, I move up the bed, lay my calves under her arms, and slowly feed her my malleable meat. I start by placing the tip on her bottom lip, and grin as she sticks out her tongue, trying to coax me into her warm wet mouth. I happily oblige her, holding myself at my base, and guiding it between her lips. I feel the back of her throat, and pull back out, but she tries to suck me back in.
“What are you doing?” she demands of me. “I want to feel you all the way down my throat. Choke me with that wonderful cock of yours!”
Who am I to argue? Placing my thick rod back in her mouth, I moan as I feel her tongue urge me deeper into her hungry orifice. The head hits the back of her devouring mouth, and I hesitate again, but when I see her eyes flash with desire and need—not with Aldol’s control—I shove myself deeper, groaning as she moans, sending delicious shivers through my cock.
I realize quickly that my rod has conformed to her trachea, and know that I’m not truly choking her. Apparently she realizes it too, because her throat suddenly constricts, strangling the length of my woody. She’s making herself choke on it, I understand, and I’m so turned on by her wanton drive to please me, that I immediately start firing my seed down her gullet. We both moan in shared bliss, and I appreciate that she’s cumming with me, driving our passions higher.
When I’m finally done unloading, she doesn’t let me go, even though I can see tears streaming down her cheeks from her choking. Every time I try to pull out, she uses her teeth to convince me to stay lodged in her mouth, and I soon realize I’m not growing soft.
I lean back a bit, placing my hand over her soaked pink panties, and press them firmly into her hole. She gasps at the pleasure, and I use the distraction to free my rod.
She glares at me, but I move quickly, sliding down her body, pulling her Hello Kitty panties aside, and driving my saliva slickened penis deep inside her hot vagina. Once again our sexual organs work to compensate for the other, ever changing, but I notice she is just a bit looser this time, and wonder if it is because the real Officer Jenkins had had a baby.
Regardless, when I latch onto a leaking nipple, I feel her inner walls grip my rod, as I drink of her essence.
“Oh, how I would love to feed our baby like this,” Angela moans, and I freeze at her comment. I know she wants to carry my child, but I’m wary of what the child might become.
The pause is only for the slightest moment, before I continue again. As long as I don’t consciously will it, she shouldn’t get pregnant.
I let my full weight press down on her, as I switch nipples, reach under her, and grip her still panty-covered buttocks. Picking up my pace, I drive into the bound woman again and again, driving the volume of her moans higher and higher. My breathtaking succubus feels so wonderful, wrapped around my member, bucking her hips against me, while remaining constrained, and I relish every delightful inch if her.
“Oh, Lyden!” she cries out in ecstasy. “Don’t stop! Fuck, you’re going to make me cum again! Ooohhhh!”
Sucking harder on her teat, I feel her delicious milk fill my mouth again, and wonder what it would be like for her to feed our child. Would she only be able to feed him or her in whatever form she conceived it in? What would happen with the fetus, when she changes form?
The thought of delivering potent sperm into her womb is really starting to turn me on, and almost too late I remember the dangers of such an act. As my cock starts to twitch inside her, I concentrate on shooting blanks.
“Yes!” she pleads with me, “fill my cunt with your sperm. I love how hot and good it fills inside me, my love. Fill me up with your seed! Oh, I feel it leaking out, there’s so much.”
Her powerful orgasm crashes into me, and for a few seconds we feel as one, part of me wanting nothing more than to place my child within her womb, and part of me terrified about what that would end up like.
Exhausted, and yet exhilarated, I collapse next to the pretend cop, and kiss her gently on the cheek. “I love you,” I whisper to her, cuddling close to her bound body, and smiling dreamily.
* * *
“You go on in,” Angela tells me as we pull into the driveway. “Becky asked me to pick up some groceries. With everyone living here now, we’re going to need some more supplies.”
It’s not until I get out of the Orange Bubble and Angela is driving away that I realize there is an unknown car in the driveway. Swearing—or at least as much swearing as I ever really do—I remember that I’d driven Lisa’s car to the police station, and that it’s still there. I can’t go back to get it, but hopeful my two human girlfriends can.
Wondering whom this new car belongs to; I walk through the front door and freeze.
“Father Chilton,” I say as cheerfully as I can muster for a man I seem to instinctively dislike. “How are you today?”
“Reverend Chilton, please,” he corrects me, that bright smile plastered to his deeply tanned faced. “It’s good to see you healthy again.” His brown eyes dart around the room looking for something, before I see a calculating look enter the dark orbs, but it never touches his voice. How did he know I’d been hurting? I glance at Lisa, Becky, Brooke, and Ondine sitting around the room, but they give nothing away. Remembering how my girlfriends had acted around him last weekend, I try to figure out the fastest way to get him out of here. “I had a bit of a chat with AnnaBelle Lewis this morning, and she had some interesting things to tell me.”
It takes all my effort not to curse out loud, and I end up grinding my teeth in frustration. Logically I understand why the pious woman would go to her reverend for help, especially with her crisis of faith, but it still galls to have this charismatic man know anything more about my life than I really want him to. After the ordeal at the police station, my patience is shot.
“Well, thanks for stopping by,” I tell him hurriedly, waving him to the door. “As you can see I’m doing fine. Give AnnaBelle my regards.”
“Lyden,” Lisa snaps at me, “don’t be so rude. The busy reverend took time out of his busy day to come check on us.”
“Considering everything that’s been happening to us lately,” Becky adds in, “the fact that we have a sympathetic ear can’t hurt.”
“Except that there are groups out there,” I spin on the two women, my voice rising in anger, “like the Daughters of Respite that want nothing more than to kill me, Brooke, Ondine, Arethusa, and Angela, simply because we’re not pure human. How do I know he isn’t in league with them?” I regret my anger and words as soon as they leave my mouth, especially when I see the pain they cause the women in front of me, but it’s already too late to take them back.
“I assure you,” Chilton’s deep voice breaks in firmly, “that I am not a part of their group. For one, I am a male, and they only accept women into their order.”
I turn to yell at him, but I’m not sure what to say and finally have to close my open mouth. “You know of them, then?” I ask lamely after a second.
“You could say we’ve crossed paths,” he says with an enigmatic smile. “They tend to have a skewed view of things.” His eyes are still darting around, but I can’t figure out what he’s looking for. “As dangerous as they are, the ones you really need to look out for are the Paladonic Knights. They’re truly dangerous, and very organized.”
If he’d grown a third eye, I don’t think I would have been more surprised. How much does this religious man know about the supernatural world?
“Please, sit down,” he waves graciously to an empty chair as if this were his home. I find myself obeying before I even realize I’m moving. “Now then, I’ve been told that you are a generator, and that there is a prophecy spoken about you. Is this right?” Something about the way he says that makes me think he already knows the answer.
I nod that is it, and he spouts the prophecy flawlessly:
“When the air calms down,
And rain slows on Water’s door.
Comes the time for all to wail.
A deadly new enemy to abhor.
A generator comes forth,
To save all or completely fail.
A foe that’s timeless,
Even on our life's long scale.
Colors swirl to hide our nemesis,
Our destruction, he strives to make.
Only the blind can resist his will,
Unless his choice is a mistake.
A blade to kill, and a blade to save,
A talisman to forge the path between.
To kill and save, or save and kill,
One path to both, yet choices lean.
Our hero’s life shall meet its end,
Unless he strikes the deadly beast.
His friends shall fall or rise,
Until all his efforts have ceased.”
I shiver as the words pour forth from him in his baritone voice, somehow sounding direr.
“How did you know that?” Becky asks, and I realize that the women hadn’t told it to him.
“I’ve known that prophecy for a long time. I never thought I’d see it come to pass though.” His eyes scan the room before coming back to rest on me. “I’ve long known about what you call the Shadow World, and its denizens.”
“And what side do you stand on?” I ask, trying to regain some control over the situation.
“I share in some of the understandings of both the Daughters and the Knights, but don’t believe in their philosophy or execution,” he answers after a moment’s thought. I realize that that was no real answer, but before I can ask for more clarification, he asks, “You mentioned some other people that I don’t see here. Angela and Arethusa?” The question comes off as off-handed, but something tells me it is anything but.
I mentally curse myself for mentioning them in my anger, but I don’t intend to tell him anything more than I have to. There’s something about him that rubs me wrong, and despite his easy attitude, I don’t trust him. At least Lisa and Becky aren’t swooning over him like last time. A quick glance at Brooke and Ondine show that they’re slightly wary as well, and I realize they haven’t spoken since I got here.
“Oh, Angela is shopping I think, and Areth is—“ Lisa pipes up, answering before I can stop her, but I’m able to cut her off.
“Areth is on an errand for me,” I complete Lisa’s sentence, not giving away anything.
Reverend Chilton frowns at my statement, and for some reason I get the feeling he just became very angry.
“So, she, or rather they aren’t with you right now?” His voice is calm, but I get the impression he is more interested in Areth than Angela. Something nags the back of my mind about that, but as usual, I can’t seem to figure out what while in the moment.
“They’re free spirits,” I tell him. “I don’t control their movements.”
“Free spirit?” White hot rage enters his tone, and I can almost feel heat pouring forth from his nearly blazing eyes. All pretense of calm is lost as he glares at me, walking over and standing above me. “How?! How can she be a free spirit?”
Something seems to click into place, but before I can finish putting two and two together, the door opens up, and Areth flutters in.
“Lyden, I talked with Gaia,” she starts, ignorant of the mood in the room. “She said she would like to talk to you, and will send someone to escort us safely to her in about a month.” She stops as she finally realizes something isn’t right, and I see the color drain from her golden tinged face as she stares at Reverend Michael Chilton. Her wings give out, and she plummets to the floor, landing in a heap. She stares horror struck at the religious man, and it takes her a few seconds before she can find her voice.
“Marchosias. . . .” The name is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it’s heard easily. “No!”
Areth apparently finds some reserve of strength as she gets up, and flees towards the door.
Reverend Chilton is faster however, as his body blurs and a winged wolf with a serpent for a tail catches the fairy’s legs in his yellowish teeth.
The demon shakes his head, flinging the hapless fairy back at me, her golden form striking me in the chest before she lands in my lap.
I stare in terror at the wolf shaped demon as he glares at me. His eyes are still brown, and his tail hisses at us.
“It would seem that I underestimated you, generator. A mistake I won’t make twice.” The wolf shakes his head, sending ripples through his fur and flapping his wings. “I don’t dare kill you because of the prophecy, but I dearly want to. What should I do with you?”
“L-let us go, and pretend this never happened?” I stutter, trying to sound brave, but my voice comes out just above a squeak.
“Oh-ho! Even now you still have some backbone. No, I’m afraid I can’t set such precedence. You will both have to be punished for this, but how to do it?”
He paces back and forth in a very wolf-like manor as he deliberates.
I glance at the other women in the room, and see that they’re just as terrified as I am, though Brooke and Ondine are hiding it better than Becky, who is in tears.
“Leave the other women out of it,” I say, glad that this time my voice has some more strength behind it. “They had nothing to do with me deceiving you.”
“Hmm, you’re right,” the demon murmurs, his voice dangerously calm and I think he may be reasonable. “Unfortunately, you’ve just shown me how important they are to you, and I really want your punishment to mean something.” The winged wolf stops pacing, turns to smile at me, and that look on a wolf’s features terrifies me all over again. “In fact, I’m going to include everyone who means anything to you.” He begins to laugh. Let me tell you, if a wolf with a griffon’s wings, and a snake for a tail laughs at you, give up all hope because life is about to become a lot more terrifying. “You were worried about the Daughters of Respite getting you, and I think I might just help you out. I’m going to send you where no one can reach you. I can’t kill you, but I can still get my revenge.”
Marchosias howls, making the pictures on the walls rattle, and even the floorboards creak as the howl continues. My heart beats so fast, I’m afraid it’s going to burst. It doesn’t help when the walls tear themselves apart, pictures begin to fly about the room in a wind only they can feel, and even the floor drops away in pieces. The chair I’m sitting on drops out from beneath me, and I can feel Areth’s tiny hands gripping my shirt as we get spun about. I see the other four women tumbling around me, and I realize that Marchosias is the center of the maelstrom. In the distance I can barely make out other forms, caught up in the demon’s storm. The wolf-like beast continues to howl, and Arethusa is flung away from me, swallowed into the maelstrom.
Brooke, Lisa, Becky, and Ondine grow smaller as they’re sent away from me. Growing dizzy I feel a different darkness begin to consume me, and despite my best efforts, I pass out.
My eyes are slow to open, my head feeling full of cotton. Groggily I look up, seeing a partly cloudy sky above me, and find that I’m lying in a field of what appears to be wheat.
“How did I get here?” I mumble, sitting up and holding my head in my hands. The last few moments come to me as though through a haze. Did I piss someone off? Why do I feel as if I’d been so afraid? Ugh, I just can’t seem to focus.
Gaining my feet, I check over myself, verifying my armor and sword are in place.
Wait. . . . Armor and a sword? Why doesn’t that seem right. . .? My head hurts, and I decide to worry about that at another time. I know it’s important, but I can’t seem to care enough. I must have gotten really drunk last night, I decide. But then, how did I end up out here in the middle of nowhere?
The joints of my supple jerkin, made of thick brown leather, seem to be in order. My blade, Muramasa, feels tight in his sheath. Gently, I pull up on the hilt, clearing only a small portion of the chrome-like slightly curved blade. There is no mistaking the bloodthirsty feel of the blade, and I immediately shove him back home.
Shaking myself to get rid of the rotten feeling, I wish I could just leave the blade behind. Every time I’ve tried, however, I find it attached to my hip a little while later. The katana only stays off me when he knows I intend to put him back on later.
Shielding my eyes against the midday sun, I look off into the distance. Every direction looks the same, until I spot a small shack to the east.
Whatever happened to me seems to still be affecting me, as I trip over my own sword a few times before I can keep my feet under me. By the time I reach the shack however, I’m walking as if I’ve always had the sword on my hip. I still can’t remember my past, other than that my sword is dangerous, and that I’m a wanderer. Well, all swords are dangerous, and right now I’m wondering where the hell I am.
Of course I’ve always had a sword on my hip. Why does everything seem so odd, as though my entire life is somehow skewed?
“What can I do for you, Stranger?” a gray haired man asks, coming around the side of the shack, an axe in his hands. He looks very tired, bags thick under his eyes, and a slump to his shoulders that bespeaks many weary years of life.
“Thomas?” I ask, thinking the man looks familiar, but the moment is gone before I can grasp it.
“Eh?” he looks at me in confusion. “How’d you know my name?” He hefts the axe again, a little more menacingly. I know he’s no match for Muramasa and me, but I don’t feel like feeding my sword.
“Sorry,” I tell the wary man, raising my hands in front of me to show I mean no harm. “Just something that crossed my mind.” My stomach growls, and I have no idea how long it’s been since last I ate. “Say, you wouldn’t have any work I could do for you in return for a bit of food, do you?”
He squints as he looks sharply at me, trying to decide if I’m a threat to him or not. I am, of course, but I try to act as if I’m not.
Finally he grunts before giving me an answer. “You look like a nice strong lad. I don’t know why, but I feel as though I can trust you.” He moves the axe to his shoulder, and I can see that it’s rather dull. Kind of like the old man, I think, but don’t know where that thought came from. “I’ve got some wheat that needs to be culled, and since the Lord of Light saw fit to give me a rebellious daughter, instead of a hardy son, I could use your help.” He eyes Muramasa on my hip, and I can already see the wheels turning.
“I’m afraid my blade isn’t fit for cutting wheat, but if you have a scythe I could borrow, I’ll see what I can do with that,” I tell him, before he can ask. He wouldn’t like the consequences if I pulled my blade out.
He grunts again, and nods his head to the back of the shack. Heading back, I find a rusted scythe, and sigh. This is going to be a lot of work.
The farmer has to teach me how to properly use the blade, but I catch on quickly enough, and get lost in the work.
“Ho!” Thomas yells, thankfully pulling me from my thoughts. I’d been daydreaming about a strange orange carriage, winged women, and odd-looking houses. “Come, sit.” He shows me a plate of food, and I drop the scythe where I’m at, rushing to him.
It’s probably poisoned, a voice says in my head, but I ignore it. Muramasa is always paranoid.
The food is simple fair, roots soaked in a simple broth, but as famished as I am I devour it quickly.
“You do good work,” Thomas says, as he surveys his field. “Would you consider staying on? I don’t have much, but I get by, and I can promise you’ll never go hungry.”
I laugh lightly, patting the hilt of Muramasa. The older man tenses at the gesture, but relaxes when I speak. “I’m afraid I have a different destiny,” I tell him. “Maybe when I’m done with that, I’ll come back. There are worse ways to retire, than with a good honest job.”
“A destiny, huh?” he asks me. “I don’t put much stock in those.”
Kill him! Kill him now! I thump the hilt, willing Muramasa to shut up.
“Normally I’d agree with you,” I say, laughing to cover the action with the blade, “but I feel as if I have little choice.”
“Thomas!” someone yells in a panic, and we both stand to look in the direction the voice had come from. I realize my right hand is tightly wrapped around Muramasa’s hilt, and make a conscious effort to loosen my fingers. “Your daughter’s been kidnapped!”
The old farmer begins to curse in earnest, spitting on the ground, before turning to the young boy that comes running up to us. “Who took her, Isaak?”
For some weird reason, I can’t seem to make out any features on the boy’s face. It’s not that he doesn’t have one, just that I can’t seem to see it.
“I don’t know, Thomas,” the young faceless boy states, trying to catch his breath. “He must have been some lord, though, because he was dressed all fancy, and had a couple guards. He took your daughter from the inn and rode off with her on a large black stallion.”
The older man looks sharply at the boy. “Go home Isaak. Thank you for telling me.” He turns the boy around, and gives him a gentle shove.
“Are you going to go get her, Thomas? I know she can be annoying sometimes, but she always treated me well enough.” There is genuine interest in the boys tone before he leaves.
“Go home, Isaak,” the farmer repeats firmly, and the boy takes off running.
“I don’t suppose you know how to use that blade on your hip, stranger?” he asks me, looking off in the direction the boy had come from.
“Well enough, I suppose,” I tell him, and he only grunts in response. I truly hope I don’t have occasion to use the cursed blade.
He goes into his small shack, and returns a few moments later with a well-polished breastplate on, and a short sword on his hip. He looks at me self-consciously. “Don’t know why I kept these. Couldn’t part with them after the war, I guess. Too many memories.”
“Lead on,” I tell him, not truly interested in his past. “Did you let your wife know we were going?” I’m not sure why I asked that, but it seems appropriate now.
He gives me a calculating stare before answering. “You think if I had a wife, my daughter would act the way she does? No, my old lady died years ago.” He clams up, and doesn’t say another word the entire trip into town.
I’m tempted to point out that I have no idea what his daughter is like, but decide the comment isn’t worth the time.
The town, if it can be called that, is nothing more than a group of ramshackle buildings, huddling together for safety.
Thomas stops in front of a building that stands bigger than the rest. On a pole is a wooden board with two images on it. The first is of someone sleeping in a bed, stylized ‘z’s floating over his head. The second image portrays the same man in bed, but this time there is a well-endowed woman riding him, a drink in her hand.
“Your daughter was at a brothel?” I ask, wondering what type of woman we’re going to save.
“It’s not what you think, young man,” he tells me irritably. “She just likes to visit.”
Uh-huh, I think, but keep the thought to myself.
“Listen, Stranger, me and the innkeeper kind of have a history, and it ain’t so great. You mind going in, and seeing what you can find out?” The way he says that, tells me he’s a bit embarrassed about whatever their past is.
Walking through the door, I’m hit in the face with the scents of heavy drink and unwashed bodies.
“What can I do you for, Traveler?” a solicitous voice says behind me. Spinning, ready for an attack, I have to consciously relax, when I see a woman in a low-cut blouse to emphasize her décolletage, and long curly blonde hair. From her demeanor, I know she’s no threat, despite what my blade tries to tell me. As with the young boy, I can’t seem to make out her face. I know this should bother me, but my head starts to hurt again, and I drop it for now.
“I’ve got this one, Mara,” another voice pipes in, and this time I can see the woman’s face, though that’s not the most startling aspect to her. She’s wearing tight black leather, which matches the shade of her black hair perfectly. Stiletto shoes give her some added height, and in her right hand is a coiled whip.
“Yes, Mistress,” Mara bows to the other woman, and scuttles away.
“I’m just looking for the innkeeper,” I tell the other women, slightly afraid of her.
She laughs almost wickedly before answering, “You’re in luck then, for you’ve found her.” She taps the coiled whip against her left hand as she ponders me. “You look like you can handle quite a bit.” Her brown eyes regard me hungrily, and I even see her lick her lips.
“Um, thanks,” I reply hesitantly, “but I need to find where they took the farmer’s daughter.” Since Thomas had said he had some sort of history with this woman, I’m trying to be careful and not drop his name. Although, now that I think on it, as small as this town is, she likely knows whose daughter I’m talking about anyway.
Her eyebrows knit together in scorn as she says, “You mean Thomas’s little chit? Ha! She could make a fortune working for me, but all she does is tease my customer’s, never really giving in to their demands. I guess my girls get some benefit from her being here, turning on our patrons, and allowing my girls to charge a little more. Her father couldn’t satisfy, though. Ha! He tried and tried, and I’ll give him points for stamina, but in the end . . . nothing.” Her dark eyes examine me again, taking in my leather armor and sword, and I see the hunger enter her eyes again. “Maybe you can satisfy me? If so, you’ll be the second.”
“I really just—“ I try to stop her, but she cuts me off.
“Satisfy me, Traveler, and I’ll tell you what you want to know. Otherwise the lord that took her will be having virgin tonight.” She grabs the front of my jerkin, and tries to pull me into a kiss, but my arms move faster, gripping her wrist, and spinning her about. Her body presses back into me, and she moans, our leather clothing rubbing together as she gyrates her hips.
Well, it’s not as though it’ll be a real hardship, I think, feeling her slender body in my arms. I shove her away a little harder than I need to, and she stumbles before me. She recovers quickly enough, and turns, ready to strike me with her whip.
The leathery tip whistles my way, and I somehow catch it before it strikes my face.
Kill her! Kill her while you still can! Let me taste her.
Shut up, I mentally command Muramasa. I’ll stab her with a different sword.
“How dare you treat me like this,” the innkeeper cries out, trying to yank her whip out of my hand.
Her strength is a lot less than mine is, and I yank her to me, using her own weapon. I catch her as she stumbles, and this time it’s me that pulls her into a kiss. She remains frozen for a second, before thawing slightly, and I feel her lips part to allow my tongue in.
Pulling back, I watch as she blinks in confusion. I use her distraction to yank the whip entirely out of her hands. While she’s off balance, I use her own weapon against her and tie her up.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demands of me, anger smoldering in her brown eyes.
Looking around the room, I see a number of faceless people watching us. I feel the grin split my face before I consciously will it. She looks around the room as well, and I see panic enter her eyes.
“I think I’m going to get that information out of you,” I tell her cheerfully.
“No! Not out here in front of everyone. What I do, I do in private.” She tries to fight against her bonds, but it’s useless. The leather of the whip refuses to budge against the leather of her costume.
Pulling her over to a counter, I find a small knife sitting on the other side. Gripping it, I brandish it before her fearful eyes, before slipping it into a fold of her leather bellow where the whip is holding her captive, and start cutting.
“No! You can’t do this! I am the mistress here. I won’t be treated like this in my own place.” I turn her around as I continue to cut through her leather. The knife is sharp enough, but the leather is also sturdy, and it takes me a few moments to cut it away. I’m surprised at how little she’s really struggling, despite her words. Dropping the knife, I’m able to pull down the bottom half of her costume, and can smell her arousal.
Standing back up, I release the end of her whip and undo my trousers, letting them fall to my ankles with a clatter as Muramasa strikes the wood floor. I only step out with one leg, before bending her over the counter.
“Don’t you dare!” she cries out, belying her body’s reaction to my rough treatment. “Not out here!”
Pulling back my hand, I bring it down hard on her rump, making her cry out, and leaving a red handprint behind.
“You wanted me to satisfy you,” I whisper in her ear, leaning over her body and nestling my cock between her cheeks. “Now just shut up and take it.”
“No,” she cries again, and I can hear the tears in her voice. “Not out here! Everyone will see! At least take me back to one of the rooms.”
Grabbing the base of my cock, I begin to rub it up and down along her nearly dripping slit. She jumps at the first contact between our genitals, and I actually hear a slight whimper escape her throat.
“Mistress,” I hear Mara’s slight voice say close by, “do you want me to stop him?”
Wasting no more time, I drive my hips forward, impaling her cunt with my pole. Her head flips back, and I see her mouth forming a large ‘O’.
“Mistress?” Mara repeats, and the innkeeper just glares at the faceless woman until she backs away.
Taking another glance around the room, I see that we have everyone’s attention. A few faceless patrons even have their pricks out, stroking them to the beat of me slipping into this domineering woman.
“How dare you fuck me in front of everyone!” she yells back at me as I slip in and out of her tight cunt, but I can feel her start to move in time with my thrusts. “This is my job! I’m, ungh, the boss here. I, uh, make the rules. Oh God! You will not make me cum in front of . . . in front of . . . in. . . . Oh shit!”
Her pussy grips my phallus hard as her body shudders in the throes of passion. Apparently the thought of everyone watching her is enough to send her over the edge.
I feel renewed with vigor at the thought of being able to get this woman off. She’d said I was only the second, and I can’t feel too jealous about whoever the other person was.
I wait for her to finish shuddering, before I pull out, and aim for her other hole.
“Wait! No, you can’t. I charge extra for that. You can’t—ungh.” She drops her head to the countertop, as I slip inch after inch of my meat into her anus, relishing the feeling of her tight sphincter slowly sliding up my rod. “No, no, no. . . .” she says repeatedly; until I land a slapping blow on her other cheek. Making her jump, and her anus tighten deliciously on my cock.
“You’re going to be a good little girl, and tell me what I want to know, aren’t you,” I don’t ask, but state.
She nods her head, but that’s not good enough for me. Reaching forward, I grip the back of the collar of her top with my right hand, and a handful of her dark hair with the other. Pulling back on both, I stand her upright, enjoying the new angle this causes her colon to take around my schlong. “Say it,” I command her, and then have to stifle a moan as my command makes her colon tighten as she has a minor orgasm.
“Yes,” she gasps, and I realize I’m choking her with her own top by pulling back on it. I don’t let up.
“Louder,” I command her, pulling my hips back, and slamming them forward, pounding into her ass to emphasize my desire.
“Yes, Master!” she tries to scream. I loosen my grip on her collar, but pull back more on her hair.
“Where did they go?” I ask my obedient slave.
Reaching around her body, I somehow already know that her pussy is bald, and easily find her clit. I place my finger against it, but don’t move it, or apply pressure while I wait for her answer.
“They . . . they went north, Master,” she says around moans, trying to move her cunt against my hand.
“Good girl,” I whisper, nipping lightly at her ear. “You can cum now,” I give her permission, as I pinch her clitoris between two fingers.
Her wail of pleasure rebounds off the walls, and I see some of her patrons start to fire off their seed as they cum too. Her rear clamps down hard on my tool, and I’m soon firing off into her colon, grunting with each spurt.
I pull out of her ass, and realize there is still one final step to her conversion. “Get on your knees and clean my cock,” I command her, as I loosen the whip still bound tightly around her torso.
She doesn’t even hesitate, before dropping to her knees in front of me, gripping my softening cock, and starts cleaning it with her mouth. I notice that it is clean of anything untoward, before it disappears between her lips.
I can feel her tongue swirling around the tip of my over-sensitized phallus, and decide to pull out of her mouth. Leaning over, I grip her cheeks in my hand, and stare into her brown eyes. Not a trace of defiance is left, only complete submission. “That was very good, innkeeper. Now I want you to finish off any other patrons that haven’t gotten off to our little show.”
“Sheila, master,” she says quietly. “My name is Sheila. Will you ever come back?”
Pulling up my trousers, I turn and walk out, without giving her an answer, but something about her name tickles the back of my mind. What is it about her that—my mind grows thick with fog again, and I dismiss it.
A young woman bumps into me as I try to leave. “I’m sorry, mister,” she mumbles an apology, and I feel her hand at my waist. Gripping her wrist, I pull it away, before she can draw Muramasa.
“You don’t want to do that,” I growl at her, looking down into a young face framed by brown hair. Two blue eyes refuse to meet mine.
“Help!” the girl screams. “Rape!”
“Ha, ha,” a faceless male patron behind me scoffs at her. “We already know his worth. And the rest of us know your thieving ways, Ondy. It’s about time someone caught you.”
Without releasing her wrist, I drag her out of the brothel.
“Did she tell you?” the older farmer asks as I walk out, ignoring the struggling girl in my grasp. “I heard some yelling in there. Did you have to get rough?”
I chuckle lightly as I answer him, “You could say that. It was definitely some lord, and he took your daughter north.”
“Who’s this?” he asks, finally noticing the girl.
“A little thief,” I tell the farmer. “What should we do with her?”
“We can’t take her with us,” the man says, but I see he is eyeing the younger woman. “It’ll be too dangerous.”
“I can fight!” the girl states, twisting her arm just right, and escaping my grip. “Let me help you. It’s the least I can do to make up for trying to rob you.”
I look doubtfully at her, but she had escaped my grip.
“You can fight?” the farmer echoes my thoughts.
“I can!” she exclaims indignantly. “Let me borrow your sword,” she says, turning to me, “and I’ll show you.”
I grip the hilt of Muramasa protectively as I glare at her. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, girl.” I turn to Thomas, but he already knows what I’m going to ask, and nods. “Test your skills bare handed against him,” I tell the thief.
“But he has a. . . .” she trails off as Thomas removes the sword from his hip and hands it to me. She barely even waits for him to let go, before springing her attack.
I can tell right away that she has speed on her side, as the veteran farmer barely blocks her fist. She aims a kick for his hip, but he scoots back, and her foot passes harmlessly by. With her now off-balance, Thomas takes advantage, and delivers a quick open-handed blow to her back.
Ondy stumbles forward, but recovers quickly and with grace. This time she’s wary as she faces her opponent, trying to get a better grasp of his skills. The two trade precise blows, blocking and dodging as necessary, while gauging each other’s capabilities.
Where did the old man learn to fight like that, I wonder, and then remember that he’d been in some war. Still, it doesn’t seem to sit right that he’s this good.
I see him slowing, and she notices it too. With a triumphant yell, she dodges around a weakened jab, and goes in for the final strike.
Thomas nearly blurs, and before I know it, Ondy yelps and is on her back. Thomas is sitting on her stomach, her arms held against her sides by the older man’s legs.
“Yield,” Ondy cries out, seeing the game is lost.
The older farmer gets up, and I hand his sword back to him.
“You’re fast, girl, but you’re also impatient.” He reaches down, and offers her a hand up. She disdains it, and gets back up on her own.
“You tricked me,” she complains.
Thomas laughs heartily, before replying. “In a fight for your life, never assume you know your opponent. They just might surprise you.”
“But we weren’t fighting for our lives. It was just a little sparring,” she defends herself.
Thomas scowls at her, and his tone grows deadly serious. “Every fight is a fight for your life. Don’t forget that.” He sucks in a deep breath, and continues in a more moderate tone, “You’re welcome to come with us; I guess we could use your help. You know how to fight, but you also have a lot to learn.”
Thomas turns north, and I fall into step next to him. A couple seconds later, Ondy comes running back up to us. “Will you teach me?” she asks Thomas, and he only grunts in assent. “I don’t have a weapon.” She says next, and without looking, the old man produces a dagger from nowhere, and hands it to her. This man is more dangerous than I’d originally given him credit for.
The woman slips the dagger into a sash around her hip, and we walk for a ways in silence. Ondy proves her worth, as she finds tracks on the edge of town, heading north.
Straight into a forbidding looking forest. Yay.
“We should go around,” Ondy states, but Thomas shakes his head.
“My daughter’s in there, and I’m going to get her back.” His tone is so adamant, that I decide not to argue.
“I know these woods,” Ondy declares unhappily. “If we run into any problems, let me do the talking.”
Keeping one hand on the hilt of Muramasa, and both eyes open, I follow Thomas and Ondy into the dark forest.
The first sign of trouble comes from Ondy, as she yelps, and jumps back, brandishing her dagger. A shadowy form steps out onto the path, their features obscured by the gloom of the area. I can tell that this person at least has a face.
“Leave your weapons and all your money and we’ll let you leave with your lives.” A slight breeze blows through, and a shaft of light pierces the branches, giving me a quick look at her face. Short brown hair and a blue eye. Her left eye is covered by an eye patch, and I have just enough time to make out a crossbow in her hands, before the light is blocked again.
She also has the biggest knockers I’ve ever seen on a woman, her bodice is cut low to take full advantage of her incredible cleavage.
“I’m just trying to find my daughter,” Thomas yells to the woman, ignoring Ondy’s indignant hiss at not being allowed to talk first. “Did you see her come by here? Some men took her.”
The woman laughs throatily before answering. “You mean that little slip of a thing riding in that lordly man’s lap? Didn’t look to me like she wanted rescuing.” She laughs again, and there’s a coldness to it this time. “Of course, she was also out cold, but the man’s hands were all over her.”
“You bitch,” the farmer screams, drawing his sword and charging the woman.
She lazily lifts her crossbow, and I barely have time to shout a warning before she fires the quarrel at him.
A loud clang resounds through the forest, and I’m certain the bolt is lodged in the man’s breastplate. His sword clatters to the ground, and I see him hunch over, holding his hands close to his chest.
“She only has one bolt,” Thomas gasps. “Get her before she can reload.”
Before I can begin to move, the trees and leaves around us rustle, and I watch as faceless people step out of the shadows, some holding crossbows and regular bows, some holding daggers and swords.
In the time it takes me to notice the rest of the bandits, Ondy has moved over to check on Thomas.
“Is he okay?” I ask, still wary to draw Muramasa.
“I’m fine!” he yells. “Damn bitch hit the guard and knocked my blade out of my hands.”
I breathe easier as I hear those words.
“Look,” I say, addressing the well-endowed woman, “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just trying to retrieve his daughter. We have no money, and our weapons aren’t worth your effort.”
“Any weapon is worth the effort, stranger, even the sword between your legs,” she laughs back at me, “or is that one only a little dagger, not worth anything more than buttering my bread? ’Course that one on your hip looks rather nice as well.”
“This blade is cursed,” I inform her. “Believe me when I say I would hand it over if I could.” I look around at all the faceless bandits, trying to formulate a plan. “What will it take to leave here unmolested?”
“It’s too late for that, but for a bit of entertainment, we may let you leave with your gear,” her almost too quick reply makes me worried.
“What kind of entertainment?” Ondy asks worriedly. As the only woman in our group, she has the most to lose.
“Sorry, sweety,” the bandit leader quips, “you aren’t my type, and I have plenty of men to satisfy me if I want.” She starts to unlimber her shoulders, turning her neck from side-to-side, and I have a feeling I know where this is going. “How’s about we go one-on-one, to the death. You win, and you walk free. I win. . . . Well, if I win, let’s just say I’ll end up with your stuff anyway.”
“I accept,” I say easily, confident I can beat this one eyed woman. I walk over to pick up Thomas’s sword, but he yells at me to stop.
“No,” he tells me. “She disarmed me with her little trick. I need to regain some honor, and I don’t want anyone else touching my sword.”
He picks up his blade, or tries to. His right hand doesn’t seem to want to properly wrap around the grip, but he only grunts and picks it up with his left hand. Giving it a few practice swings, he faces the bandit leader, sword up and ready. I just hope he’s good enough with his left hand.
“You’re hurt,” Ondy exclaims. “Don’t do it.” When he doesn’t respond to her, she turns to me, and I can see the pleading in her eyes. When did she start caring so much? “You can’t let him do this. I know who she is!” She flings her arm out, pointing at the female bandit. “That’s Jenny of the Large Pennies. She’s a dead shot with any bow, and nearly as good with a blade. She’ll kill him.”
“Not nearly as good, darling,” Jenny says sweetly, “better.”
I understand Thomas’s position, though, and know he needs to do this for his honor. If anyone else fights for him, he will lose even more face.
“Take care of my daughter, Stranger. Thanks for your help to this point.” The man’s words are solemn, and I take it he’s heard of her too.
“The name’s Lyden Snow,” I tell him, at least wanting him to know whom he’s traveling with.
Everyone suddenly freezes, staring at me and even Ondy backs away, covering her mouth in worry.
“That’s a poor joke to make, friend,” Thomas states, then turns back to his foe, closing the distance in only a couple steps.
Those two steps are all the warning Jenny gets, but it’s enough, and her blade blurs as it comes out of its sheath, and meets his blade, edge-to-edge. Her riposte is quick and hard, knocking Thomas backwards a step. I actually wonder that the bandit is able to move with such ease, with such a large chest, but when she somehow gets behind Thomas and bumps into him with her breasts, knocking him down, I see she uses them as an asset, rather than a hindrance.
I also see that she’s just playing with the older man. There’s no doubt that he’s a skilled swordsman, even left-handed, but she’s younger, quicker, and more agile. She also has a surprising amount of strength in her attacks. I watch as Thomas’s attacks grow weaker and weaker, hoping that he’s using the same ruse he’d used on Ondy earlier.
Sure enough, just when it looks like he’s done for, he springs his final attack.
A painfully cracking clang reverberates through the trees, and something shiny strikes the dirt in front of me. Looking closer, I see it’s the remains of Thomas’s blade.
My head snaps back up as Ondy cries, “No!
Thomas is staring at the four inches of steel above the guard in shock. He collapses to his knees, and I can just make out a trickle of blood seeping from his cheek.
I quickly grab Ondy before she can take off, and she starts to fight me, as Jenny places the blade at his throat. Her eye meets mine, and suddenly I feel like I know who she really is. Flashes of memory start to seep through the fog that’s been surrounding my mind.
“Jennifer?” I ask, struggling to recall how I know her.
“Lyden? What—“ her words are cut off as Thomas uses the distraction to ram the remains of his blade through her neck, and into her brain.
“NO!” This time it’s me screaming the words, as I watch the woman I once knew fall to the ground, lifeless. I can’t hold onto Ondy any longer, and she rushes over to Thomas, pulling him into a hug. I feel the fog start to creep back in, obscuring my mind and forcing my memories away.
I begin crawling over to them, but by the time I reach Thomas and Ondy, I can’t remember why I’m crying. The bandit leader is dead, and her cohorts have retreated into the forest, staying true to her word. I should be happy, but the tears won’t stop.
Raiding a dead body is a hard thing to do, but we end up with her blade and crossbow, along with a small bundle of quarrels, and a bag full of coins. We’ve won our freedom, so why am I still so sad?
“We’d better get moving,” Thomas states, shaking my shoulders and reminding me that we’re not out of the woods yet. Penny of the Large Pennies is dead, but her bandit crew could still be lurking in the trees.
“But your cheek,” Ondy states. “You’re injured!”
The old farmer wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, smearing blood across it, but also showing that it’s nothing more than a scratch.
Thomas complains that his new sword isn’t as good as his old one, making sure that anyone around can hear how knowledgeable he is about such weapons, until we see the edge of the tree line.
Even after we get out of the forest, we continue walking, well after the sun has gone down.
“Wake up,” Ondy whispers to me urgently, and I crack my eyes open. The sun is just rising on the horizon, and I can hear what sounds like a wagon creaking our way.
“Who is it?” I ask, suddenly wary.
“Looks like some traders,” Thomas says without trying to hide his voice. He’s walking from the direction the sound of the wagon is coming from.
“How many?” I ask, concerned. Lately it seems if it’s not one thing, it’s another.
“Two women, and a couple of caravan guards,” he says easily, then eyes me sharply. “Listen, I don’t care what your name really is, but I don’t recommend you tell anyone else it’s Lyden Snow.”
“Why not?” I ask, but the wagon shows up, and I realize I’ll have to get my answer later.
“Ho!” Thomas yells to the traders, holding his hands out to show he means no harm.
The two guards, riding on some fine looking horses, approach the farmer, and glare down at him. Well, glare as much as two faceless men can.
“Oh, stop it you two. If you scare away our customers, we’ll never make any money on this trip,” one of the women says.
“And the first brigand that puts a knife in your ribs, will take any earnings you make,” the guard on the left states.
A slightly chubby woman gets down off her wagon, and approaches us. “That’s why we hired you. To protect us!” she states, not seeing the paradox in her words. “The name’s Deb, and my partner over there is Anny. Any chance we could talk you into buying a plate or some brandy?”
“How much for the horses?” Thomas asks, glancing at the fine steeds.
“They’re not for sale,” the guard that’s been doing most of the talking states angrily.
Thomas grabs the pouch of coins we’d taken off the bandit leader, and pulls a small golden disk out. “That’s a shame, because that’s all we need right now.”
Deb licks her lips as she looks at the golden coin, then to the bulk of the obviously full pouch. “Oh, give over! Anything’s for sale, if the price is right.”
“Greed will be your undoing, sister,” Anny states from her perch on the wagon.
“And that pious attitude will be yours, sister,” Deb replies in a manner that lets me know they’ve spoken these words often to each other.
Haggling begins, and in the end, we come away with two horses, and a saddlebag full of food. The acquired crossbow had been thrown into the mix, and I now have a nice water pouch hanging on my right hip.
Anny had tried to extol to us the virtues of living a clean life, but even Deb had grown tired of her preaching by the time we parted ways.
“I’m telling you,” Ondy states from her perch in Thomas’s lap, “You paid three times what these horses are worth.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the farmer grouses. “We got something that wasn’t for sale, with coins that weren’t really ours. Now are we still on the right track to find my daughter?”
Ondy grumbles under her breath, but examines the road in front of us.
“See the chip missing from that horseshoe imprint, or how that one is entirely missing its horseshoe? They were outside town back there, and I’m certain they have your daughter.” Thomas grunts and heels their horse to a trot.
I wonder if the old man will ever realize that the young woman is smitten with him?
We still haven’t caught up with this kidnapping lord by midday, but someone catches up with us.
“Are you the one claiming to be Lyden Snow?” A woman yells, approaching us on horseback. Her dark brown, nearly black hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her brown eyes are piercing as she glares at me. Other than her sharp eyes, she is the plainest looking woman I’ve ever seen.
“Dammit,” I hear Thomas curse, but I just turn the horse around and look at the woman.
“I might be. Why?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.
“I’m Randa, and I’m sworn to kill you before you destroy our world!” Her horse charges for me, as she pulls her sword, ready to lop off my head.
Pulling my sword up, sheath and all, I deflect her blow just in time.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” I demand of the woman. “What’d I ever do to you?”
“You are what you are!” she screams as she brings her horse back around, charging at me again. “Lyden Snow is prophesied to destroy this world, and my sisters and I have sworn to kill you before that happens.”
That’s not right, I think. Something’s wrong with that. Before I can think more on it, however, she’s next to me, swinging her blade with deadly intent.
Free me! Let me taste her blood! Look at her; she wants to feel my caress against her neck and thighs. Free me, so that I may feed! Despite Muramasa’s urging, I keep him in his sheath.
Suddenly the violent woman stiffens and tips out of her saddle, a dagger in her back.
“Nice throw,” Thomas tells her. “Tell me, how did you get the aim just right?”
I blink at the two, trying to understand what’d just happened. Ondy had just killed a woman, and now both of them were acting as if it’s no big deal.
“It’s just a skill I have, when I’m behind someone the blade always sinks in,” the younger woman states.
Hopping down off my horse, I turn the woman who tried to kill me onto her back, and jump when she gasps for air. “Brother. . . . I’m coming.” Her eyes close, and for just a moment I think I might know her, but the feeling is fleeting and soon gone.
Ondy reclaims her dagger, taking Randa’s sword and mount, and we continue on our way.
“What’s the deal with my name?” I demand of Thomas as we plod down the road. “Why did she want to kill me?”
“Listen,” he tells me earnestly, “you’ve been a great help to me, so I won’t judge you, but there’s a legend that states that a man by the name of Lyden Snow will come to our world and destroy it. I always thought it was an old wives’ tale, but now I’m not so sure.” He refuses to meet my eyes as he talks, and I can see that Ondy is trying to listen while appearing not to. She could use some more practice at that. “If you really are our destroyer, then the only thing I really ask is that you wait until I have my daughter back in my arms.”
He snaps his reigns, pulling away from me, and I just sit there, stunned.
Kill them, before they kill you!
“Shutup,” I mutter out loud to the sword, not wanting to listen to its demands. I don’t want to destroy worlds. I just want to live. Is that too much to ask?
Not long after that, we come to another town, this one not much bigger than the last, though it does boast a sheriff’s office.
We tie our horses up just outside, and go in. Two deputies are sitting inside, both with faces, and I don’t know if I should be worried that they have faces, or relieved. Why can’t I think straight? One of the deputies is extremely short, with long light brown hair, and the other is a lithe woman with equally long blonde hair and blue eyes.
“We’re looking for a lord that might have come through here recently,” Thomas begins. “He would have had a woman with him, and some guards.”
“Ah, you must mean Lord Mark,” the short one says. “Yeah, they traded horses here late last night, and continued up to his castle.”
“Why are you after him?” the blonde asks.
“He stole my daughter, and I intend to get her back.” Thomas’s voice is firm and full of controlled anger. He now has a name and a target.
“That’s a pretty serious charge,” the short one says. “What do you think, Leese? Should we check it out?”
“Might as well, Becks. Nothing else is likely to happen, and I’ve been getting bored anyway.” Leese responds.
“Now wait a minute,” Thomas argues back, “We didn’t ask for help, just directions.”
The two deputies are already strapping on their swords. “If you plan to go up against Lord Mark, then you’re going to need all the help you can get,” Leese says calmly.
Why are they so willing to help us?
In the end, all five of us leave town, heading for the castle on the horizon.
The edifice is quite imposing as we come up to it. Black stones make up the towers, topped with solid black flags.
“Think the lord’s in a black mood?” I try to joke, lightening the atmosphere. My efforts fall flat.
No guards stand at the portcullis, and nobody can be seen as we work our way down blackened hallways, dimly lit with torches. The entire place feels creepy, and abandoned, other than footprints visible in the dust covering the floor.
We work our way deeper into the castle, feeling the oppressive mood of the place begin to seep into our bones, but Thomas refuses to stop until he has his daughter, and each of us pulls a measure of strength from him.
I don’t like this place, Muramasa states, and for the first time I hear fear in the sword’s mental voice.
Finally we come across a pair of massive wooden double doors, and we can hear voices on the other side.
Pushing through, we find a large, darkly tanned man sitting at the head of a long table. A golden chain leads from his left wrist to a collar around a young woman with golden hair and golden tinged skin. Even in this dour place, she seems to glow slightly, as if her presence is valiantly attempting to push back the evil of the place, but slowly failing. Two female guards flank their lord, weapons already drawn and ready.
“So I see you made it all the way here, Lyden,” the lord’s deep voice booms. “How have you enjoyed my little play? I must say, I’m impressed with how well you’ve handled yourself. You’ve only lost, what, two people? Of course, I don’t know that you could consider one of them a friend.”
“Lyden?” I hear Leese and Becks murmur at the same time in fear, but they draw their blades and prepare to defend themselves.
“We’ve been told that that lady is here against her will,” Leese shouts.
Lord Mark burst out in booming laughter. “Against her will?” He yanks on her chain, making the golden woman stumble. “Tell them, my pet. Are you here against your will?”
“No, my lord,” the girl’s dreamy voice comes out. It sounds like she’s speaking from a faraway place, instead of only a few feet away. She is obviously under a spell.
Why do I think she would look better with large butterfly wings? I shake my head to dispel the absurd thought.
“Release my daughter, fiend, or face my steel!” Thomas screeches, taking a ready stance.
Lord Mark chuckles for a second, before flicking his fingers at his two guards. “Kill them.”
I take a closer look at the two armed figures next to Lord Mark. One is clad in a supple blue material that looks serviceable and durable. In her hand is a long wavy blade that looks quite deadly. The other woman is clad in some sort of yellow and black animal skin that barely covers her ample parts. A long spear is clutched in her hands, and it looks like she knows how to use it.
“How will you handle this dilemma?” Lord Mark asks me, a wicked grin on his face. “Friends on both sides, all intent on killing each other. This should be fun.”
The woman in blue faces off against Ondy and Thomas, somehow able to deflect their combined efforts. It would probably help if the two had practiced together some, as they keep getting into each other’s way.
The Amazonian woman, meanwhile, brings her spear’s haft to bear down on the short Becks, but Leese’s sword intercepts it, saving her fellow deputy. Becks doesn’t hesitate at the sudden opening, slashing at the giant woman’s stomach. I’m certain the Amazon is going down, but she blurs, and is suddenly standing five feet further back, spinning her weapon in her hands.
Who do I help? Both groups are holding their own, and if I step in, I might get in their way. For some reason I can’t pin down, I’m extremely hesitant to fight anyone in here.
Except Lord Mark.
Pulling Muramasa from my hip, still sheathed, I approach the darkly tanned man.
“Do you really think you can take me on, generator?” The man asks, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I’ve been destroying ants like you for millennia.” He stands, and for the first time I see just how large this man is. If muscles had muscles, he’d be the steroid that pumped them all. The man is a mountain! He pulls a sword that’s nearly as tall as I am from behind his back, and then glances at the other two fighting groups. “Perhaps we should wait, and see how this turns out first.” He waves his hand at me, and every muscle in my body locks up, stopping me from any more movement. Twirling his finger, I find myself turning rigidly in place, until I can watch the other two groups, battling for their lives. dread fills me, as I realize how much power this man has, and how much I’m at his mercy.
I watch in horror as Thomas stumbles over Ondy’s outstretched leg, and the blue armored guard brings her sword down hard, nearly separating the older man’s neck from his shoulders. He collapses in a lifeless heap at Ondy’s feet. The thief goes berserk, wildly slashing at the guard. For a moment it looks as if the vigor and speed of her attacks will make up for her lack of skill, as she lands blow after blow. Unfortunately, each successful strike only causes minor damage, and Ondy begins to wear down from her efforts.
A grunt from Leese pulls my attention to that battle, and dismay fills me as the Amazonian strikes the blonde woman in the chest, knocking her back. Becks is holding her side, and I can see blood trickling between her fingers. Leese moves to Becks’s side, taking a defensive stance.
My friends are about to fall, and I’m frozen, helpless and impotent. Inner rage at my inability to act boils up in me, and I strain against my invisible bonds, but to no avail. Nothing is as strong as Lord Mark’s willpower.
Becks tries to gain her feet, but I watch as her face goes white, and she collapses to the ground, her life still seeping between her fingers. The Amazon woman goes in for the kill, and Leese moves to intercept, but is a moment too late. The spear shaft sinks deep into Becks’s side a split second before Leese’s sword lops off the Amazonian’s head.
“Becks, no!” Leese cries out, bending over her deputy, and checking for a pulse. Tears pour from her eyes when she doesn’t find one. Tears are quickly replaced with rage, as she stands and faces the other guard, in time to see Ondy take the blue armor-clad guard’s blade through her stomach, and fall next to Thomas.
The two remaining women face off against each other, attacks ringing out as sword meets sword. The blue-armored guard is the better fighter, but she’s slowed down by her many wounds. Blow after blow, parry after parry, the two women go back and forth, until the guard is able to put her blade into Leese’s right shoulder. The deputy drops her weapon from nerveless fingers, and tries to stumble away from the blow she knows will land next.
The guard delivers a mighty kick to Leese’s jaw, cranking her head to the side. The sound of her neck snapping is unmistakable.
“Bravo!” Lord Mark cries out, clapping his hands. “Bravo!” He walks over to his triumphant guard, and smiles down at her. Without warning, his sword arm comes up, and his guard collapses in two pieces, the blade severing her torso from her legs. The speed and ease with which he dispatches his own guard belies his prowess with the weapon.
I want to demand to know why he would kill his own servant, but my mouth refuses to function.
“We couldn’t let one of them survive, now could we?” he asks me mockingly. “Now we’re just down to you, me, and my newest little pet here,” his smile turns to Thomas’s daughter, but she doesn’t react. I can see that her eyes are glazed over, and feel sorry for whatever torments this monster has in store for her.
“Now, I believe you wanted to have a battle,” he says to me, waving his hand and I can feel control over my own body returned to me. “Draw your blade, little thing. I begin to grow weary of this game.” Despite his words, I can see laughter in his eyes.
I hate to do it, but I know I don’t stand a chance against this monster, unless I draw Muramasa from his sheath.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” the large man waves dramatically, but I know he is just being melodramatic, “What fun would this little fight be, without your true memories?”
Lord Mark snaps his fingers, and a searing lance of pain erupts behind my eyes. White encompasses everything, as the fog that has sat over my mind since waking up in this world, lifts. Memories, thoughts, and feelings flood through my system, and with dawning horror, I realize what’s happened.
Almost everyone I know is dead. Angela, Brooke, Becky, Lisa, Jennifer, Ondine, and even Thomas are all beyond my help now, manipulated and destroyed by Marchosias’s evil machinations.
Even Miranda’s death weighs on me, and she’d wanted to kill me in truth.
I don’t know when I fall to my knees, but as I stand back up and look at the four dead bodies around me, I have to fight hard not to be overwhelmed by despair.
Dead. . . . They’re all dead! All because I’d chosen to rescue a little fairy. The same fairy I’d been tricked into coming on this quest to rescue again. She’s still standing there, eyes glazed over, not even aware of what is going on.
“Shall we end our little play, Lyden Snow?” Marchosias asks me, laughter ringing in his baritone voice. “There are only two ways for you to return to the real world: take Arethusa’s maidenhead, or allow me to kill you. Should it be the latter, I will take her virginity and soul, enjoying every moment of it.”
Rage, hotter than any I’ve ever felt in the past suffuses my limbs, burning away my despair and replacing it with a purpose; kill Marchosias. He must answer for his crimes. No matter how skilled a warrior he is, I vow not to rest, until I destroy him.
Muramasa is free from his sheath in one swift motion, no longer willing to give myself a second thought on the consequences. My cursed blade crows in glee at his freedom. Yes! Feed me his soul! Let me devour him! Allow me to caress his soft skin.
“No!” the demon yells, backing away, and I can see fear enter into his eyes, his voice incredulous. I pay it no heed as I charge him. “How did you get that blade?” He barely deflects my first blow in time, Muramasa guiding my movements. “That isn’t supposed to be here! It was in my study.” My next blow comes within a hair of his shoulder, and the large man leaps back to get some breathing room. “Lyden, you must stop!” Desperation is in his tone now, as he continues to back away. I want nothing more than to press the attack, but Muramasa holds me in check, only allowing me to slowly approach. “This whole thing was a farce. A game! It isn’t—”
Muramasa frees me, and I charge forward, sword raised. I watch as the demon brings his blade up to block me, and suddenly I’m spinning, bringing my sword in low. Sparks fly as the demon uses his unnatural speed to deflect my strike. The sentient blade directs my every move, and I don’t even hesitate as he cries out for blood. Pressing the attack, I watch in glee as the evil creature before me truly begins to fear for his very existence. My blade will feast on his soul today, and while it won’t bring back my loved ones, it will at least be some measure of recompense.
Marchosias is speaking to me, pleading with me, but my blood pounds in my ears, and I can’t understand his words. His hands make the same gesture that’d frozen me in place earlier, but Muramasa somehow deflects the demon’s power.
Finally I draw blood, as my blade sinks deeply into the demon’s thigh. His howl of pain is sweet music to my ears, penetrating the blood rage that guides me.
The large monster waves his hand to something to my right, and I see something golden out of the corner of my eye. Spinning to destroy this new threat, I barely stop Muramasa from splitting Arethusa’s skull.
Kill her! Kill them all! my wicked blade sings in my mind, but I regain control over myself, and turn to face the demon.
He’s gone. Whether fled to the real world, or somewhere in this fantasy world, I’m not sure.
“Lyden?” a soft voice says near me, fear and worry in her tone. “Wh—what happened? Where are we?”
Muramasa continues to demand I kill her, but I resist, taking more effort than it should to do so. Seeing that there is blood on the blade, I shudder, and quickly sheath my sword. The original Lyden, the one I am again, knew nothing of this blade. The Lyden that Marchosias created for his entertainment knows how deadly this sword is.
I also know how cursed I am to have it in my possession, now that I’ve drawn it.
Muramasa cannot be sheathed unless he’s drawn blood. He will also stay with me until I go mad, killing everyone I know, before either killing myself in grief, or getting killed in turn.
I don’t know how wounded Marchosias truly is, but it’s less than he deserves for what he’s done.
Seeing Angela’s Amazonian head, the spear in Becky’s gut, and both pieces of Brooke. . . . Bending over, I empty my stomach of all its contents, unable to look at my friends and lovers anymore.
I don’t know how long I stay hunched over, nor when I passed out, but when I awaken, it’s Areth’s golden tinged cherubic face that greets me.
“Welcome back,” she says nervously, which is so very unlike her. There is tenderness to her now, which is new. I wonder if it’s an affect of Marchosias’s messing with our minds, or something else.
I try to turn my head to look around, realizing that I’m lying with my head in the pixie’s lap, but her hands grip my face, and forces me to look at her.
“No, don’t,” she tells me, and I feel fresh hot tears spring to my eyes. “Where are we, and how do we get home?” There is fear and worry in her tone, and I want to comfort her, and be comforted in turn.
“I don’t know,” I say, then remember something Marchosias had said. The mere thought of the demon makes my vision go red, and Muramasa begins to sing to me, but I fight it all down as I recall the dark-souled creature’s words. “Either I have to die, or. . . .” I trail off, remembering the rest. Or I take her maidenhead. I can’t do that to her. “I have to die.” I say, trying to cover my almost slip.
The fairy shakes her head though. “Or you have to take my maidenhead,” she states, already knowing the answer somehow. “I know the way demons think. He set this whole thing up to punish us. What worse punishment can there be, than watching your friends die, and then dying in futility, knowing there is nothing you can do. Or, if you actually did defeat the demon, you’d be stuck here, until I gave up my. . . . Well, either way, I’d be punished as well.”
I decide not to tell her what her fate would have been, had I lost to the demon. “I don’t understand?” I say, confused. “I mean, I understand if I take your virginity, but not about if I die. How does that punish you?” I ask.
Her slap against my face stings as much as it’s unexpected. Shoving me off her lap, she glares at me. “Are you really that dumb?” she demands, reminding me of when we’d first met. “Haven’t you figured it out, yet?” I can only blink at her in confusion. I try to look around, trying to find something to help me understand what her problem is, and only then notice that we’re no longer in the throne room. The fairy must have moved me while I was unconscious. “You really don’t know.”
“Know what?” I demand.
She shakes her head, and moves back over to me. “It doesn’t matter,” she tells me softly, and it’s at this point I conclude all women are crazy. “Lyden, you can’t die. You must fulfill the prophecy, or so many more will die. Giving you my most precious gift is a small price to pay, for saving so many lives.”
“Why should I care about all those other lives?” I demand almost angrily. I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth, when I see the hurt in her eyes.
“Because you wouldn’t be the Lyden I know if you didn’t. Not all of your friends are dead,” she points out, and I want to yell that ‘Yes, they are!’
Sheila, AnnaBelle, and Debbie cross my mind. They’re still alive. At least, they will be if I can end this world.
I remember Miranda’s—or rather Randa’s—words here, about me destroying this world, and realize that they had been true. One way or another, this world will end, but it won’t kill everyone like she’d thought.
“But your soul!” I state, not willing to give up. “I can’t take that from you. I’d rather commit suicide to end this world, than do that to you.”
“I don’t think that will work,” she tells me sadly. “Marchosias would have wanted to ensure you made it all the way to the end. Only he can kill you, or you must take my maidenhead. There is no other choice.” Her slender hands hold my cheeks firmly, gazing deeply into my gray eyes. “As far as my soul, you cannot take what is freely given.”
“But—“ I try to protest some more, but her lips against mine cut me short. There is no passion or sorrow in this kiss, but simple tenderness. Our lips are the only parts of our mouths that are touching, but that is enough for me to understand that this is truly okay with her. She’s willing to chain herself to me for the rest of our lives, to save both our worlds.
Can I make any less of a sacrifice to save so many lives?
Pulling my head back, I look deeply into her golden eyes, cupping her chin. Funny how I’ve never noticed their rich color until now. Probably due to me being colorblind.
“Are you sure?” I have to ask one last time.
“Just be gentle,” she says, and I can see the determination writ across her face. “I still get a little uncomfortable sitting down after the last time.” She says it with a wry smile, but I can see how nervous she is.
Using my grip on her chin, I pull her face back to mine, kissing her softly. Her slender arms wrap carefully around my neck, and I lay us down on the hard rock ground. There are worse places to take a woman’s virginity, I suppose, but none come to mind at the moment.
Reaching down to the skirt of her yellow dress, I gradually begin to move it up. By the time I have it above her waist, our tongues are dancing in each other’s mouths. My hands discover that she isn’t wearing any undergarments, as I lightly begin to knead her buttocks. I feel her tense up at my intimate touch, but I don’t stop. I don’t go any further yet, either.
We continue to kiss like this for a bit, until I feel her relax. Letting go of her rear, I start moving her bright dress up her body some more, until it’s just under her chest.
Her head pulls back, as she bites her bottom lip in thought. We stare at each other, knowing that it isn’t necessary to remove the dress, but also knowing it’s something I desire.
Suddenly deciding, she grips the bottom of her clothing, and yanks it up over her head. Her perfectly formed breasts sit firm and high on her chest, no sag to them at all. “Might as well do it all the way,” she states, that wry smile still on her pretty face.
I raise my hands to her sides, and easily roll us over. It takes me a second to get my leather jerkin off, and then even longer to undo the ties to my pants.
She gasps as my cock springs free, even though this isn’t the first time she’s seen it. This is the first time that she’s had a say in whether or not she’s going to allow it into her body.
“You promised to be gentle,” she reminds me, her eyes never leaving my one-eyed monster.
“I promise to be gentle,” I tell her solemnly. “I promise to be gentle. I promise to be gentle.” She laughs slightly, finally looking up to meet my eyes, as I make the promise three times.
“Thrice sworn, and done,” she quips, nodding.
“Thrice sworn,” I agree, looking at the beautiful fairy, minus her wings. I can see her skin is flushed, and her breathing is a little heavy from her nervousness. I’m going to have to get her to relax, if we’re going to get this done with minimal pain for her.
She jumps guiltily, as I gently touch her right foot. Slowly, I caress it with my fingers, paying careful attention to the undersides of the toes, and the delicate arch. Using the backs of my fingernails, I tickle my way up her calves, and guiding her tiny digits to my mouth. Despite her nervous nature, she lets out a slight moan as the tip of my tongue brushes against her big toe.
Our eyes meet as I suck all five of her dainty toes into my mouth at once. “I still think you’re a pervert,” she tells me, her voice sultry, and I know she’s relaxing if she can crack jokes.
“What can I say?” I taunt her back. “You seem to bring it out in me.”
Her only response is to close her eyes, and moan, as I move my kisses up her calf. My hands move to her thighs, and she tenses again, but I wait until she relaxes, before moving my gently sucking lips up to her knees. At this point, I’m able to make out just how wet her nether-lips are, as her sweet nectar is visibly flowing.
Despite her obvious arousal, I can still sense her trepidation, and take my time, massaging her thighs, and then moving to her other foot, and repeating the process all over again.
This time when my lips brush against her inner thighs, a low moan escapes her lips, and she opens up wider for me. Taking the invitation for what it is, I trace the tip of my tongue up her sensitive thigh, to her outer labia. I gently suck on the thick outer lips, and marvel that she’s starting to swivel her hips.
Taking the tip of my tongue, I carefully place it at the bottom of her hole, and slide it in, getting my first taste of her tangy twat.
She has a minor orgasm after so much tension and build up, and I lap up her flowing fluids as they come from her virgin hole.
When she relaxes from her peak, I begin to explore more of her vagina, using my tongue to swirl about her inner labia for a time, until I go in for the sensitive nub at the juncture of her labia minor.
Her slender fingers dig into my hair at this point, urging me on, and I know I have won her over to this point. As a reward, I suck hard on her clit, nibbling just slightly with my teeth, and just that quickly, she’s flooding my mouth with her liquids. The energy from her soul floods into me at the same time, and I begin to feel more rejuvenated, after this haphazard adventure.
This time I don’t wait for her to relax, before diving up her body, and fitting the head of my cock between her lower lips.
Her eyes open wide in shock, but her pelvis is still gyrating from her orgasmic bliss, and she gives me a slight nod, letting me know she’s ready.
“This is going to hurt,” I tell her gently. “For that, I am truly sorry.”
“More than you know,” she says, her eyes closed, ready for the moment.
She’s right, I realize. She’s about to lose more than her hymen; she’s about to lose her soul.
This thought sobers me for a second, and when I don’t plunge directly into her, she opens her eyes, and stares at me. “What’s wrong?” she asks, worry reflected in her voice and golden eyes. “Am I not pretty enough?”
The question catches me off-guard, and I blurt the answer, before I think about it. “No! I mean, yes! Er, I mean, you’re gorgeous. I just. . . . I just worry about you.”
To my surprise, she blushes deeply, a tinge of red touching her golden cheeks. “Just hurry up and get it over with, Pervert,” she tells me, and I know it’s all bluster, by the way her hips are still moving against me.
Lowering my face to hers, our lips meet, and I simultaneously thrust hard with my hips.
Her cry of pain is muffled by our kiss, as I rip through the thin flesh of her maidenhead, destroying it, and binding us together for the rest of our lives. The whole world seems to . . . well, I don’t know how better to say it, than it tilts. All my senses seem to be doubled, but not quite right or in sync. I can feel the solid rock floor beneath my hands, but somehow also on my back. My chest is heaving, and I seem to be pulling in twice the normal amount of air. My eyesight is fuzzy, and our kiss feels like I am trying to wrestle with an extra tongue. The feeling of her warm, wet pussy rippling around my throbbing penis is juxtaposed, with a sharp pain somewhere between my balls and my belly button.
It’s this pain that finally clears my head enough to realize that we are sharing each other’s sensations. The kissing feels weird, because I’m feeling my own tongue in return. I now know the pain of a woman losing her virginity, and sincerely hope to never feel its like again.
We hold together, frozen for a few moments, waiting for our senses to sort themselves out. After a number of tense heartbeats, I feel her start to relax beneath me, and our joined consciousness begins to separate.
“That was intense,” I breathe, careful not to move my still hard member.
“Not what I expected, either,” she tells me, her chest heaving and flushed.
“Is that it then?” I ask, wondering if that was all we needed to do. Looking around us, I have our answer.
“He likely wants us to take this to completion,” she says. Her tone sounds sad about the idea, but her hips move against me, belying her attitude. “I’m sure a pervert like you will be up to it?”
Despite her joking attitude, I still worry about her, and hold still, until she pulls my head down to meet hers, and kisses me passionately.
Tenderly, I move my hips, trying to match her rhythm. Despite the fact that my rod has shrunk to conform to her inner walls, she’s incredibly tight! Every centimeter that I slip out sends new waves of pleasure through me, only to be outdone as I slide back into her grasping hole.
Soon, I’m moaning in delightful pleasure, and have to break the kiss. She moans in frustration as I try to catch my breath, until I hunch my back, and latch onto one of her small nipples. She pulls me tighter to her breast, and I pick up my momentum, driving into her with slightly increasing vigor, until I can feel my own culmination coming.
Changing my angle slightly, I lift my left hand off the floor, and twiddle her right nipple between my fingers. When her vagina tightens and she screams out in pleasure, I’m sent over the edge, and fire my load deep into her hungry canal, my whole body shuddering from the paroxysms of bliss.
As I finally regain control over my body, I am only slightly away of the rock floor turning to carpet, and the fairy under me, shrinking back down to her four inches of height. Thankfully, my phallus is well out of her, before she’s too small to handle it. Although it usually conforms to almost any size, I really doubt it can shrink that small.
================================== Athor’s Note: Sorry it took me awhile to get these next chapters up. Been a very hectic last little while.
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