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Title: Meeting of the Six Kings Ch. 05
Tags: master, slave, submission, collar, shower
Day Four
Having given up on the idea of sleep, Ryan reluctantly untangled himself from Catrine and made his way quietly into the living room. Although the brilliant morning sun had tipped over the horizon, he still had a few hours before they'd be beckoned to rejoin the Kings.
Flipping on his laptop, he sat at the table to begin enacting a plan he'd spent the past few hours composing in his mind. It was still only a shell of an idea, but there were some things he knew with certainty.
He needed to buy himself more time with Catrine. The use of the word buy in this instance was literal. He needed to re-negotiate this as a business arrangement with the Vultures; he intended to extend her contract. That part was fairly straight forward as long as he could put his feelings for her aside and meet them on their terms and conditions.
Perhaps more tricky was that he needed to find the capital with which to complete this transaction. And fast. The leasing of a pleasure slave always required proof of full, up front payment, before anything more was discussed. His company had fronted the funds to procure Catrine as part of his meeting expenses. He certainly didn't have quick access to the kind of cash this extension would require.
Thinking on this, he pursued a few different ideas to get him what he needed. He inquired with his boss about an advance on his intended bonus. He posted a note to sell his car. He put out a feeler about procuring a loan against his flat. He'd give any or all of these over to keep her close to him. He sent out a few messages pursuing all three possibilities not sure exactly which would come through the quickest.
They also needed to make a smooth departure from the building that afternoon, slipping away without rousing suspicion of his intentions. Even if he could buy a few more days on her contract, he had no idea what he'd need to do to keep her safe in the future. Send her away? Run away with her? Disappear together? He was certain there were networks for this sort of thing, but it certainly wasn't something he could just inquire about on the street. This was a whole new world of trouble that he'd need to puzzle out.
Sighing and leaning back in his chair he decided their only course was to take things one step at a time. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his temples with his fingers, his body weary with the combination of fatigue and anxiety.
Soft hands pressing against his bare shoulders interrupted his thoughts. He relaxed as Catrine began kneading his tense muscles, her fingers pressing deftly against each pressure point, releasing his stress. She moved expertly along his shoulder blades and across his upper arms, stroking him with her palms. She watched his head sag a bit and he leaned deeper into her touch, the sign of his relaxation encouraging her to continue. Gently, she tipped his head back so it rested against her breasts and she ran her fingers through his scalp, before methodically rubbing along his forehead. She repeated her motions until he was practically putty in her hands.
He tipped his head further so he could gaze up at the woman standing behind him. As their eyes met, he was treated to her full and relaxed smile.
"Good morning, angel." He said to her.
"Good morning indeed." She said back, her smile widening before she leaned forward to kiss him softly on the lips.
"Thank you. That felt really great." He said as he reached back to grab her arm, seeking the leverage to pull her around the chair and into his lap.
"That's something they taught you though, isn't it?" He asked, a tinge of guilt behind his question.
"Yes..." she answered as she met his seeking hand with her own. "But, it's okay," she reassured him, "I've learned a bit of good stuff along with all the not so good stuff."
She stepped sideways, following the direction of his gentle tugs, before curling herself across him. She sank into his lap completely, relaxing as he tucked his arm tightly around her, hugging her close. With his free hand, he brushed his fingers through her hair pulling it over her shoulder. They stilled as they came face to face. He stared into her deep brown eyes, reflecting on his feelings for her.
How she could endure so much and still be so warm, so vital, was baffling to him. She had such beauty and such grace. But, more than that, it was this profound optimism and ability to carry on despite such dire circumstances that made her so totally irresistible to him. She was so refreshingly genuine. He found her exhilarating.
He couldn't resist the temptation of her being so close to him. He loved feeling her curled against him; a perfect fit against his body. The memory of her wrapped around him last night only deepened his desire to hold her close. He leaned forward, finding her soft lips with his own as the words he had said to her so many times already crossed his lips.
"God, you are so amazing."
He pressed his kiss more forcefully, sweeping his tongue sensually against her lips and into her mouth. He groaned as she opened herself to him, leaning forward to increase their connection and brushing her fingertips across his jaw line. He curled his fingers around her soft hair and kissed her thoroughly, enjoying everything about the way her body reacted to his touch. In the freshness of the morning, without the emotional struggles she had felt yesterday, her desire for him was pure and uninhibited.
She pressed suggestively against him, sitting forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. As she shifted, it freed up more of her body for his exploration. He happily tightened his hands against her back and under her bottom. She was rewarded with the sensation of him hardening beneath her as they continued to kiss.
Drifting across her back, his fingertips pulled at the t-shirt she wore. His own t-shirt, he thought with satisfaction, as he noted that she had chosen to wrap herself up in his clothes again. He glided his way across the soft skin of her back, tickling her slightly and causing her to make sweet sounds against his mouth, before he continued exploring, stroking gently against her ribs.
His palm gently cupped her breast as his thumb brushed her nipple. She yelped as he felt them stiffen under his touch. He pinched one gently, rolling it between his fingers, eliciting a deep moan from Catrine. His other hand joined the first, cupping both breasts in his hands, massaging them softly and stimulating her gently as her body undulated in his lap.
Ryan was ready to scoop her up and toss her back on his bed, spending the whole day lost in her, hiding them from the reality that lurked outside. But, he knew they were quickly running out of time before they'd be summoned downstairs. His efficient mind working to placate his passionate desire, he paused their kiss long enough to give her direction.
"Go start the shower and get in. I'll join you there in a minute." He said quietly against her ear.
His eyes lingered on her backside as she complied and headed towards the bedroom. Picking up the phone, he ordered some coffee and a bit of breakfast while also quickly closing up his computer and stuffing the array of papers on the table back into his briefcase. That bit of housekeeping complete, he turned swiftly on his heel and followed her to the bathroom.
Seeing her there, her face tilted up to the cascading water, standing naked beneath the spray, lit a white-hot fire deep inside of him. He was burning up with need. He charged at the shower, dropping his briefs somewhere along the way, stepping around the clear glass barricade and sweeping her into his arms.
She gasped at the shock of his sudden contact with her; the momentum of his movement pushing her against the cool tile wall. His solid mass pressing tightly against her. He delivered a searing kiss with a ferocity that was stronger than anything she had felt before. He was fevered in his need and it acted like a match, igniting her own desire.
She moaned against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her pelvis firmly against his cock and relishing the rock hard feel of him beneath her. It slipped between her legs, so tantalizingly close to the ache in her core, but falling far short of sating the desire that was growing more and more insistent. She arched her back, seeking more contact, tilting her head back against the wall. Ryan seized the opportunity to suckle her nipple, pulling on it forcefully and laving it with his tongue, expressing his urgent need to devour her with his mouth.
She groaned against him and let out the sweetest word she knew.
"Ryan."
Driven by the sound of his name on her lips, Ryan slid his hands beneath Catrine's backside and boosted her up so that he could feel the press of her slit along his cock. The wetness he found there only furthered his urgency.
Feeling suddenly weightless, Catrine wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders, trusting him to keep her in place. She could feel him there, right at her entrance, and her body shivered with her frenzied need to have him deep inside of her. She tightened her legs against his back and willed him to press himself into her, anticipating the swell of desire that would come from his entry.
Ryan forced himself to still as he sought her eyes. When they met, they mirrored his intensity. He was trying to ask her permission, but forming words amidst the raging current of their passion was proving impossible.
"Yes?"
It was all he could choke out as he allowed his body to express what he wanted most. His penis pressing urgently against her opening, seeking her word to continue.
"Yes. Ryan. Please." She managed to pant back.
With a growl, Ryan pushed himself inside of her, not stopping until he was seated deep within her. They moaned in unison as he withdrew himself fully only to repeat the motion, gripping her ass with his hands to steady her as he propelled himself forcefully into her. He left her no opportunity to adjust to him as his frenzy to possess her overcame him. His pace dictated by his own desperate desire.
Gone was the soft, gentle lover who had taken his time with her yesterday. Here, was a man overcome with need; a need for her. Ryan clasped her against him as he ground himself into her, relishing the feel of her pressed so tightly against him.
She was awash in the juxtaposition of the sensations his movements created. She was momentarily sated by the rush of him filling her completely, her tight walls gripping to hold him there as she tipped her hips upwards to take him as fully as she could. Only to be teased by the sensation of him pulling back again, grazing along her g-spot as he moved, leaving her quivering with need. She rode that current, back and forth, again and again, as she felt a pressure building from the center of her core. Her grip around him was like a vice, holding on as the force of his body and the force of her need overwhelmed her senses.
The soft spray of the shower, the steam drifting around them, the softness of her body and the tightness of her core was his undoing. He ground his hips against her clit with each thrust, hearing her moan in response. He pushed into her with total abandon losing all sense of anything other than her.
With a passionate burst Ryan lost himself completely. Pouring himself into her, he began to come with near violent force. His powerful need obliterating everything except her. He shouted her name as his powerful climax vibrated throughout his body.
As though it was in the distance, he heard Catrine let out a plaintive cry as she shuddered repeatedly against him. He gripped her, feeling as though she was suddenly slipping from his grasp. He was suddenly worried that he had hurt her.
Looking for her in their steamy hideaway, he refocused his eyes on her small form. Her forehead rested against his shoulder and her arms, though nearly lifeless, were still wrapped around his neck. He felt her trembling from the inside out, where his cock still pulsed softly inside of her. Her breathing was shallow but steadily finding a more gentle rhythm. Her eyes were closed tightly and as he gazed at her expression, she appeared relaxed. There were no signs of pain that he feared he'd see there.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against her forehead and whispered her name. He heard her making a soft humming sound in response and saw that while her eyes were still closed, a small smile was creeping across her lips.
It was then, with a sudden flash of understanding, that Ryan realized Catrine had come too. Without constraints or requirements and even without his urging, she had released herself to the powerful current of their desire. As he regarded her there, completely sated and at ease in his embrace, he knew he was deeply and profoundly in love with her.
He released her legs, gently placing her feet on the floor and ensuring that she had regained her balance, though he continued to hold her. He walked them backwards one step so they were both under the rushing spray of the shower, allowing the water to run down their bodies, reviving them some.
Catrine looked up and released a long satisfied sigh as she felt the renewing current of the water. She pressed her lips to Ryan's, kissing him deeply, before looking again into his shining blue eyes.
"That felt really great." She said, a small giggle threatening to spill from her lips, as she considered the recklessness of her actions and the freedoms that Ryan opened to her. The memory of it already threatening to spark her need once more. She suddenly felt a jumble of emotions - shyness, gratefulness, eagerness - that she had never needed to contend with during her previous experiences. It enlivened her to have so much competing for her attention.
Reaching behind her, Ryan squirted a bit of shampoo into his palm, rubbing his hands together before bringing them to Catrine's hair. He massaged the soap against her scalp, working up a luxurious lather which he spread down her hair, working it through the tips. When he was satisfied with his work, he returned to the top of her hair, massaging along her forehead with his fingertips and pulling softly against her ears.
Catrine delighted in his attention, closing her eyes and relaxing into his grasp. She felt him twist her hair and wrap it up so that it rested atop her head before feeling his hands returning to her body. Now covered in soap, he began methodically washing her, beginning with soft strokes around her neck and down her shoulders. He worked his way down each arm, taking time to wash each of her fingertips. He stroked softly up and down along her back and repeated the same motion across her belly and breasts, lingering at her nipples just long enough to hear her make soft, contented sounds, before continuing with the serious task at hand.
He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers as his fingers slid across her still-sensitive clit. Catrine groaned and rocked forward slightly on her toes, wrapping her arms over Ryan's shoulders for additional support. He idled there, teasing her swollen bud with his soapy fingers, letting it slip in and out of its grasp, rewarded by the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest; the sensation of her hands winding in his hair.
His fingers sought her further, slipping deeper into her folds. He groaned at the alluring wetness that remained there. He kept his thumb against her clit, pressing more firmly as he drew tiny circles over her sensitive nub; His fingers spreading the soap across her intimate folds, his other hand exploring the soft curves of her behind. He let his middle finger brush against the small crinkled star of her ass and felt her buck again against his palm, urging him on. He heard her fevered breathing and was thrilled with his ability to elicit her passion.
He resisted his instinct to explore her further, at least for the moment. Catrine whimpered as he dropped to his knees to wash her thighs and calves, carrying through with his work until he had reached the tips of her toes. Satisfied, he looked up at her with a wicked smile. Then, he pressed each palm against the insides of her ankles and a single fluid motion, slid his hands swiftly along the insides of her legs, not pausing until both hands were cupped firmly against her mound.
Catrine gasped as the sensations created by his swift movement across her body crashed over her. She frantically grabbed at his shoulders for balance as she felt his fingers again seeking each of her magic places. They probed at her entrance, pressing at her clit and pushing against her ass simultaneously. As she rocked forward, her body thrumming with rekindled desire, Ryan steadied her with one hand splayed firmly across her ass. Then he swiftly pressed his face forward, closing his mouth urgently on her clit.
He sucked it strongly into his mouth as he pushed two fingers deeply inside of her. He was working to simultaneously stroke at her core while he pulled at her clit with his lips and tongue. Having delighted in the taste of her, he leaned in fully to lick at her center, imploring her to open her legs to him and pulling at her labia to extend them to his attention. He alternated eagerly between stroking her with his tongue and returning to nibble at her clit, using his teeth to punctuate his movements.
Catrine's mind couldn't keep up with the flurry of sensations that Ryan provoked. The relentless drawing out of her desire punctuated by the staccato sensations of his fingers and teeth making her crazy with need. Her body shook violently as an orgasm crashed through her, carried even higher by Ryan's relentless attention. She had never felt a rush of desire like she experienced at that moment.
Slowing his strokes, he planted one more soft kiss just above her clit, claiming his own favorite place before she sank to her knees in front of him. He wrapped his body around hers, pulling her into a tight embrace. He let the water rush over them both, rinsing clean the remaining soap in her hair and on her body. He held her for several minutes, waiting for her body and mind to settle.
"We've been in here a long time." He finally said against her hair and he heard her beautiful, soft laugh in return.
"Yes," she answered, "I seem to be making a habit of staying in here until the water turns cold."
He pulled them both to standing and kissed her gently. "Why don't you go ahead and get dressed. I'll be out in just a minute."
She paused, glancing down at his erect penis looking defiant and angry as it protruded between their bodies. He followed her gaze and continued with a bit of a smirk, "Don't worry about that."
She looked to him one last time and found reassurance in his expression. She leaned forward to kiss him once again, her soft belly pressing against his cock, eliciting a bit of a groan from Ryan, before she gingerly stepped out of the shower.
Ryan reached down, grabbing himself with his fingers and roughly jerking himself to a climax. Just the sensation of the water running down his limbs, remembering the pleasured cries from Catrine just moments before, was enough to quickly bring him relief. He sighed, quickly washed himself, and turned off the water.
—-
He found her standing in the living room, fully dressed and looking thoughtfully out the window. When she heard him enter the room, she turned to approach him, her expression grave. In her hands, he saw a glint of gold and knew that she was holding her collar. He stiffened as he was suddenly reminded of their bleak reality. The bliss he had felt just moments before shattering as she approached him.
The sadness she saw in his eyes confirmed that their feelings were mutual.
"I'm sorry," he began.
"I know." She answered dutifully as she pressed the small microchip into his palm. Turning around, she lifted the collar with trembling fingers and pressed it so that it slipped around her neck. Ryan stepped forward, slipping the edge of the chip against the edge of the collar. With hiss and a click, they both heard it snap back into place.
She was a slave once more.
He turned her around to face him, but saw that she wouldn't meet his gaze. When he tilted her chin up softly, he saw a single tear had slipped from the corner of her eye.
"Hey." He said to her quietly. "This is just jewelry. You are no different to me now than you were just moments ago."
Then, he continued, "I won't take you back there...ever. I'm not going to let you go."
Her eyelashes fluttered as she heard his words. She wasn't sure she understood entirely what he was saying.
"I still have a lot to figure out," he continued. "And, hell. We still have to face today." His tone betraying the absurdity of their circumstances.
"But, I already put a few things in motion. I'm extending your contract."
She eyed him skeptically.
"I know," he acknowledged. "I'm working on the funding part. But, I'm serious. I'm going to take you home with me later."
She couldn't hold back the flood of tears as her heart surged with hope. She could hardly dare to believe it. She knew that nothing was permanent and this was hardly a promise for her future. But just knowing that these wouldn't be their final hours together. That she'd get more time. That was enough for the moment.
She hugged him tightly and cried into his neck. "Thank you, Ryan. Thank you so much."
He held her for a moment more feeling the same sense of relief that at least, for now, they didn't have to consider their good-byes.
Then, composing himself, he stepped back and said, "This is a big day. Let's pack up, eat a bit of breakfast..." He gestured at the tray of what was likely now cold coffee and a few pastries that had been left for them. "and get ready to go."
She smiled and nodded her head, turning to the bedroom to pack up her few belongings, leaving Ryan alone in the dining room.
\_\_\_
All too soon there was a knock at the door. There stood the butler, beckoning them to follow him to the parlor where the Kings had gathered.
Ryan couldn't help but feel nervous as they followed him down the corridor, but he also felt some relief that this whole affair would be over soon. Regardless of the decision of the Kings, he was ready to leave them behind and pursue, in earnest, a future with Catrine.
As the elevator doors closed, he reached over and clasped Catrine's hand tightly in his. She was even more alluring to him now that he knew more about her and now that she had opened herself up to him so readily. Risking the butler's scorn, he picked up her hand and kissed each knuckle gently, giving her one final heart-stopping smile before the ding warned that the doors were about to open.
Catrine felt her cheeks blush as she lowered her gaze, adjusted her posture, and found her place behind Ryan. When they entered the parlor, the Kings all seemed fairly relaxed, chatting over their breakfasts as they reclined in over-stuffed chairs. Without the formality of the huge desks and the high cathedral ceilings, it was clear that the agenda for the morning would be more informal than the previous days.
King Preston noticed Ryan and beckoned him to join them, gesturing to an open seat. Catrine joined him, knelling on a cushion just beside the chair.
"Good morning Ryan," he said amiably. "Restful night?" By his tone and expression, Ryan assumed he was alluding to the number of hours he and Catrine had spent sequestered in their room.
If you only knew, he thought dryly.
Instead, flashing his most dazzling smile he made eye contact with the group and said, "I wouldn't call it restful, exactly. But it was certainly...satisfying." As he said this, he stroked Catrine's hair softly, pulling it behind her shoulder. He hoped the gesture would soothe her while simultaneously reinforcing his words to the Kings.
The group laughed and raised their cups of coffee in toast. They all certainly seemed to be in jovial moods this morning.
Catrine noticed that several of the slaves were busy preparing food and refilling coffee cups. She turned her body slightly towards Ryan to get his attention. When he made eye contact with her, she asked him quietly, "Would you like your coffee now, Master?"
"Yes please, my sweet." He replied, feeling as though they were both acting in some sort of bizarre play.
Watching her though, as she rose gracefully to her feet and made her way to the tables at the back, he remembered that this was her reality. Under any other circumstance and still, if he was honest with himself, under the current circumstance, this was just another day in her macabre life.
She presented him with his cup and sank back into the cushion beside him as the others seemed to also settle into their chairs, looking expectantly towards Roberts, who would kick-off the formal matters of the day.
Clearing his throat but not standing, Roberts began. "Well, let's just get right to the heart of it, shall we?"
"Mr. Pierce, thank you for joining us this morning, and for being such an active participant in these last few days of discussion. As you are likely aware, we do not often invite guests to join us at this conference. So, your attendance was a unique experience both for you and also for us."
"We very much appreciated the thoughtfulness of your proposal and your approach to the development of the southern territories. You were highly recommended by your boss and we now recognize why he gave you such high marks. We think you did well both in sharing these plans with us and in answering our questions during our sessions these past few days."
His eyes crinkled a bit as he smiled again. "But, surely you've wondered why it would be so important to join us in person and for such a long stay too? While the southern territories are large, they certainly are not the most complicated topic we've ever addressed at the Council..."
Not sure if this was his cue to speak, Ryan nodded by paused before answering. Thankfully, the King continued with his speech before Ryan needed to interject further.
"Technically, the territory we've been discussing straddles the boundaries of Hall's land as well as my own, but we share resources with the whole council. The territory as a whole is hardly developed; endless open spaces, few towns, paths that you can hardly call roads; a frozen tundra in the winter and a rainy, muddy mess in the summer."
"Ryan, here's the truth. We're not getting any younger and our interest in straying so far from the heart of our primary governing territory is waning. So, at this very meeting last year, we decided to seek a dedicated resource to manage the work in the southern territories; someone qualified to oversee it and act as a proxy to the Council."
"This is where you come in. We have taken these past few days to determine whether you could be qualified and trusted to manage the development of the southern territories on our behalf. Speaking plainly, we are prepared to green light your proposal in its entirety on the condition that you serve as the foreman of the program. Immediately. And indefinitely."
"The most significant requirement, of course, is that you resettle there, commuting back to the capital only a few times each year to report on progress and revisit development goals. Although, even those trips, at least initially, would be very limited since you will undoubtedly have so much work on your hands."
"Of course," he finished hastily, "we would look to compensate you generously in exchange for your commitment."
Ryan sat unmoving in his chair as he considered exactly what they had just proposed. As Roberts had concluded his short speech, all eyes had turned to regard him expectantly and he was certain his expression betrayed all of his thoughts. His mouth opened and closed a few times as though he was beginning to speak, but thought better of it.
They had certainly taken him by surprise. He couldn't even begin to grasp all of the implications. This meant leaving his family, his job, the life he'd worked to establish. On the other hand, it meant the freedom to pursue his own dream, getting beyond the constraints of his company and working to really develop his passions to the fullest. Unfortunately, he realized instantly, it also meant being more closely aligned with the Kings, who had not proven themselves to be particularly trustworthy or compassionate allies.
As his mind swam with thoughts, he glanced towards Catrine, realizing that perhaps she was the most complicating factor of all. He was far from figuring out how to pay for her freedom and the task of doing that from the wilderness, with thousands of miles between them, would be impossible.
Then, in a flash, everything came together in his mind with perfect certainty. He leaned forward to address the room, softly squeezing Catrine's shoulder, as he began to speak.
"Thank you so much for your trust in me. I am honored to be considered for this role and I'm humbled by your offer. I would like to work to find a way to negotiate terms that would benefit both parties."
"You are asking me to leave my whole life behind to start again in a space you yourself just described as a wilderness. I have no spouse or family to accompany me on this journey. I am worried that over time, the isolation and loneliness would creep in and eventually it would get the best of me. Clearly, this would not be beneficial to anyone."
"So, to move forward, I ask just one single condition for this arrangement."
Roberts interjected, "Of course. I'm sure most anything can be arranged."
"Thank you, Your Grace." He continued, "I ask that you pay the transfer and ownership papers for this pleasure slave to accompany me and be in my service indefinitely."
Catrine broke her practiced stillness and stared with surprise towards Ryan before quickly regaining her self-control. Wise to the ways of the Council, she knew that the Kings weren't really making him an offer. They were issuing him an assignment. For him to make a demand like this, for her paperwork - for her - was certain to exceed the terms of any agreement they had anticipated brokering with him.
The room exploded in rapid-fire conversation around them. Catrine couldn't make out everything being said, but the words absurd and expense were exchanged several times. Glancing again at Ryan, she saw only fearlessness in his eyes as he stared determinedly forward.
Hall put his hand up to silence the conversation, turning to Ryan he said evenly, "Clearly, Mr. Pierce, your request has taken us by surprise. Would you be so kind as to exit for a few moments so that we can continue this discussion in private?"
"Girls," he continued, "You are also dismissed. We'll call on you later."
Though she was reluctant to leave his side, Catrine stood with the other slaves and made her way to follow them from the room. She noticed Ryan reaching for her hand as she passed in front of his chair, giving him a quick but violent shake of her head.
She knew that any breach of protocol at that moment would likely reveal too much about the nature of their relationship. That, she also knew, would obliterate the chance of her staying with him.
Watching her turn the corner, Ryan nodded once to the Kings and turned to walk into the hall, closing the door behind him. Sighing, he realized that he once again found himself left waiting and alone. This time, it seemed, with the highest stakes yet.
—-
Back in the slaves quarters, Catrine did her best to deflect the peppering of questions from the other women. She had learned that secrets were easily revealed through bribes or beatings; They were best left unshared. Instead, she spoke of her own surprise at Ryan's request, her total lack of familiarity with the territory, and that overall, having a single Master would be preferable to her current circumstances. All three statements were truthful and seemed to pacify the others.
The women bored of the conversation and shifted their attention to other activities. Catrine wandered over to the windows and sat at a small bench. Gazing at the buildings outside she whispered a small prayer that somehow this wish could be granted. As she finished, she closed her eyes and began the words again.
She continued this meditative prayer for hours, watching the sun begin its descent into the evening sky. She was worried. They had heard nothing more from the Kings for hours and her imagination began to interfere with rational thought. Questions popping into her mind for which she had no answers: How long did it take to write up a contract? What if they wouldn't meet his terms? What if she never saw him again? Fear began to take its hold on her as she struggled to fight back a growing sense of dread.
She heard the sound of a door opening and she stood, turning hopefully towards it. Her eyes widened as she saw not Ryan's figure, but two hulking figures striding purposefully towards her. She recognized them immediately. They were the orderlies and they had come to retrieve her.
She stumbled backwards one step as the meaning of their appearance crashed over her. She managed to let out a solitary howl as her mind careened off-course. She smelled the familiar sour odor of the drug as a handkerchief was pressed firmly against her nose and mouth. Within seconds, she crumpled to the floor.
—
Four Days Later
The Vultures had isolated her and given her no explanation; Left alone in a barren room for nearly four days with nothing to do but wallow in her fears. Had Ryan revealed her transgressions to them? Did they know how terribly she had erred? That she had allowed him to remove her collar. That she had come of her own free will and not at the command of her Master. She was terrorized by the possibility of her punishment.
Beyond her own fears, she worried for Ryan. Had they taken him into custody for some reason? Had he left safely? Where could he be now and was he okay?
Awake, she trembled in bed. When sleep finally took her, she was wracked by wicked nightmares of Kings and their games. Each one, somehow aware of her deepest secrets.
Crueler still, she was tortured by her sweet dreams of Ryan. In her sleep, she found his dazzling eyes and heard his soft words. She could smell his scent and feel his arms enveloping her. She could almost reach him there, curling up against his warmth forever, only to awaken with a gasp, cold and alone once more.
The uncertainty of her punishment and the dim prospect for her future, was her near undoing. She was considering pounding on the doors, knowing that would only lead to a punishment, just for the confirmation that someone, somewhere could hear her.
Just as she neared her limit, her door swung open and two women buzzed about. Totally overwhelmed by their noise, colors, and their motions, Catrine closed her eyes tightly and put her hands over her ears, curling her head between her knees.
"Oh dear. It seems the little thing is a bit distressed." Said the first woman.
"Not totally surprising really, is it?" The other answered.
The first woman sat down on the bed next to Catrine and softly pressed her hand against her head, smoothing her hair back gently.
"Catrine is it?" She asked softly.
Catrine dared to raise her head, nodding once and looking with confusion at the two women in her room. They appeared to be free women. Like the Kings, they were dressed in a kaleidoscope of colors; long draped silks that ran from the tops of their necks to the bottoms of their toes. The fabric was so long, it piled around their feet as they moved about her room. They wore dozens of bangles that clanked together and huge beaded earrings that were hardly visible because of the voluminous hair that completed their looks.
"Well, Catrine." She continued and Catrine forced herself to focus on the woman's face. "It seems you have been Claimed. Not too surprising, a pretty thing like you. I'm Marla and this is my sister, Cecily. We're here to get you ready to meet your new Master."
"Which is a good thing," Cecily piped up. "Because you look like hell at the moment." Marla shot a warning glance at her sister before they turned expectantly back to Catrine.
Trying to absorb exactly what they had just said, she repeated the words back to them. "Claimed?" She asked in disbelief. "New Master?" She asked again. This was not anything she had anticipated following her past few days in solitary confinement.
"Come now." Cecily responded. "We don't have much time. We'll tell you what we know once we get started"
The women helped Catrine to stand and supported her gently as they traveled down a corridor and into a large bathroom. After helping her into a piping hot, sudsy bath, they scrubbed her from top to bottom, washing her hair and grooming her nails. When they were satisfied with that step, Cecily moved on to cut Catrine's hair while Marla shaped her brows and assessed her nails. They groomed her with great efficiency and once they were satisfied with her state, they began chatting with her about the details of her paperwork.
"I hear the whole thing has been very hush-hush." Whispered Cecily, conspiratorially. "Usually these kinds of things can take months to negotiate, but apparently, this whole thing was settled just a few days ago!"
Catrine's ears couldn't help but perk up at this bit of information. Could it be possible that Ryan had negotiated this? Could she dare to hope?
"...I don't how you managed to impress him so fast, but it sounds like they were very motivated to move mountains to get their hands on you, my dear!" Marla finished as she pulled out her make-up case and set it loudly on a table in front of them.
"Do you know anything about my new Master?" She dared to ask.
Marla thought a moment and then replied, "No. No names have been shared."
But, then Cecily interjected excitedly, "But, there has been a lot of talk and speculation! Apparently, the order arrived directly from the Council. An order from King Arick himself!"
Marla shot Cecily a look encouraging her to shut her mouth immediately. But, Catrine was no longer paying attention to the women. She went pale and swallowed hard as she realized the likely meaning behind these events; the worst fate imaginable. She had dared let herself think for a moment that Ryan had succeeded. But, she knew of course, that it was much more likely that he had failed. And in his failure, Arick had stepped in to claim her.
She shuddered in her chair and closed her eyes trying to stop tears from welling up.
"Now my dear!" exclaimed Marla, "None of that now. You'll ruin my fine work."
"And besides," she continued as she blotted the tear from her cheek with a tissue. "It is always better to be Claimed than to be here, right?"
"Not by a King." Catrine whispered desperately. "Not by that King."
The two women exchanged another look. They knew that having a girl who fell to pieces in her presentation to her Master would reflect poorly on them - and furthermore, would do her no favors in the long run. As Cecily wrapped one arm around her, Marla turned and knelt so that she was just inches from Catrine's face.
"My girl," She began. "In your circumstance, you probably know better than anyone, that there is no guessing about the future. You only have this moment. And, it is up to you and only you, how you will face it."
Catrine took a deep breath and turned to look into Marla's eyes. They were soft and soulful and she found them filled with sympathy as she looked back at her.
"Now," she continued. "Let's finish getting you ready so that you can discover where you are meant to go next." | literotica |
Title: Stuck in a Rut Part Two: Junkyard Society by HolidayPup
Tags: Anal, Angel, Buster, Canine, Cocker Spaniel, Cum, Dalmatian, Disney, Doberman, Family, Feral, Gay, Incest, Julie, Lady and the Tramp, Love, M/F, M/F/F/F, M/M, Mating, Messy, Mutt, OC, Oral, Scamp, Singing, Stuck in a rut, Tramp, lady, schnauzer, song
\~the characters portrayed in this story are the property of Walt Disney Studios, the views and events depicted here are purely fictitious. Those under 18 should be advised against strong sexual content herein...m/f, m/m and so on. I take no responsibility for those who read anyway....you continue at your own risk and have been warned\~
A smell....rain and a lot of it. A dull ache mid strong and cramped muscles bunched and trapped within the confines of junk. Thankfully it wasn't much...just enough to keep him buried and unable to move out from underneath it to freedom. Being caught and trapped was the last thing that made sense to him, he absolutely loathed it almost as much as he hated the past and how much of a legend his rival was.
Tramps' time would come and when it did he.. Buster would enjoy every moment of it.
For now however, the difficulty lay in escaping his currant predicament. He groaned and pushed upward flexing his shoulders and heaving at an angle. It seemed to nearly work until the weight sagged down on him once more and he panted.
*Oh I have plans for Scamp! If I ever see that mutt again I'll kill him!*
Growling he stained again using every ounce of his strength before flopping down and sighing.
He wouldn't stop, wouldn't rest until he had broken away...gotten out of it....
The others had left him long ago following at the heels of their dog idle, off to humans and families. *Pathetic! Sniveling lowlifes! You'd think the junkyard would be enough for em.*
A storm was coming soon right in time to wash out the memory of the fireworks and picnics, the parade and the crowds, the food and the sounds of children laughing together. In more ways then one it was the end of an era for the Doberman, the end of something that had been beautiful. Leadership.
After the Tramp had left it had taken him time and effort to find and gather followers...hard work to save them or keep them from being caught in order to follow his cause. As a leader he'd been unequaled by anyone anywhere....*except for that backstabbing, two timing, lovesick housedog!*
The rain came slowly, ever so gradually becoming more concentrated. A single drop splashed atop his head to roll down in a thin trickle between his eyes and down to his nose. Gratefully he licked it off enjoying the cool refreshing feel of water down his throat. How pathetic!
"Well well...looks like you've ended up in a bad way there Buster...but then that kinda was always how I thought you'd end up."
The voice was sudden, smooth and velvety and laced with warm amusement.
Buster growled raising his hackles and baring his teeth.
"Who are you? Who dares set foot on Buster's turf!?"
A smooth laugh came from somewhere close by ringing through the rain and bouncing off of the metal bits of the garbage strewn around him. It was definitely female and definitely casual without a hint of worry to it.
"Do you really think that your turf is worth anything now? Not only did the Tramp make you look like a fool just as he always did but it seems his son is following in his pawsteps..."
"Tramp hasn't won yet! And as for that kid of his, that was nothing but a lucky move on his part. When I get out of here I'll end both of them...sink my teeth...wait...just as he always did?"
Now the Doberman's mind was racing, searching deep in his past. He was trying to pinpoint something elusive but something he felt lay right under his nose.
"How would you know 'if' he always did. You don't know anything about me or the Tramp except for what you just saw" he said straining once again against the garbage holding him down without success. "See me and him have a history...an unsettled score to set right and I intend to do so as soon as I get out of here."
All that could be heard for a moment was the constant hiss of the rain as it fell creating a small puddle under him. Then when the voice spoke again it wasn't as jovial as it had been before.
"I as well have a score to settle with the Tramp although mine is of a different nature..."
"Sounds great but...um...any chance of ya lending me a paw here? I'd be most grateful if you could find it in yourself to do so" he pleaded hopefully. "I mean you'd have to be heartless to leave me here."
"Fair enough" the female mused thoughtfully. "However if I do this, I run the show at least until we both find revenge. Mine comes first and then after that the Tramp and his family are all yours....
"Deal" Buster said licking his lips in anticipation. "After all hell hath no fury like a dame scorned and Tramp had plenty of those."
" I wasn't just a dame...I was the one before Lady Buster. Remember that!"
"Sure! Sure! Now help me out!"
The Doberman could hear the sound of soft paws coming closer and closer slightly stirring the mud. Then he saw her and her scent rolled over him like a distant memory brought again to his immediate attention.
"Well I'll be! If it isn't the Jewel of crime herself! I'll admit...you're the last person that I expected to ever see again."
Before him was slender Dalmatian, spots covering her like paint splotches that were randomly dashed against pure pristine white save for her paws which padded through the accumulating mud.
The most striking thing about her were her eyes...beautiful icy blue depths spangled with almost the unnoticeable bits of green that seemed piercing and altogether hypnotic.
"Well I'm back and I'm going to put things right."
It was late evening, shadows playing and dancing along the walls as moonlight shimmered through the rain that pelted down in constant torrents.. the gentle sound of distant thunder bludgeoned the otherwise silent night. Each rolling of the heavenly roar was light and gradual, each hum ringing out far away before becoming fainter and fainter...slowly fading until it was taken up again.
The humans were asleep, as were the pups and Lady who lay curled up in Tramps back...her long fluffy clean fur rising and falling as she slept.
Tramp on the other paw was restless...
The grey mutt whined softly in the dark, his dreams clearly bothering him until finally with a grunt his eyes snapped open and alert...a low growl escaping him unbidden before he could register that for now he was safe.
His dreams had been so vivid...
Stretching he peered over to watch his mate as she smiled, one of her ears flipped at an odd angle while her nose moved of its' own accord, no doubt picking up some imaginary smell. Chuckling he licked her cheek lovingly and rose to his paws taking extra care not to wake her.
What was wrong with him?
They had made up. She had expressed that she understood him and he her. He was sure that he was loved and even more sure that he loved her more then anything in the world. *So why do I feel so confused? Why do I feel like the world is going to come crashing down around my head?*
Slowly he made his way out through the swinging door and out into the living room. Light came more naturally and openly here whenever lightening flashed in brief interludes in between instances of blueish gray darkness. The rich furniture and intricate style of the Darling home was transformed into a normal hodgepodge of simple shapes that comforted him as he leapt up on the cushioned bench just under the window. It was snug and welcoming and he relished being alone with his thoughts.
Everything that he had gone thru in his life, everything he'd experienced seemed surreal and distant to him as if it had happened in another lifetime. *Who'd have ever thought that I'd end up here like this with a family? I never in a dogs age thought that this would be me.*
There were things in his past lost to his memory, other things that brought a grin to his scruffy muzzle while still others made him cringe.
He had never wanted to be what he had been, never expected dogs everywhere to know his name. All he had ever done was think...find solutions to problems and go for what he and his pack had wanted. They had called him a hero, a legend....even though he had been the same as they were, a dog who wanted to be loved. A dog who had been bold enough to go looking for love.
*And that's where they got that gag about my weakness being dames and how my name wasn't just a coincidence. Wait.....uh oh.*
Jolted from his thoughts he shifted to lay on his side...noticing with some embarrassment the bulge in his sheath and the tip of his pink flesh peeping out from it's hiding place.
*Heh, who'm I kidding. Perhaps I did have a 'big' weakness for the dames.*
He allowed himself a chuckle before checking himself. What was he doing? Lady was the only one...the one who held his heart, the dog that matter most to him. He loved her and her alone and that was that. Warm thoughts coursed through his body and mind as he recalled the night before...Lady, their lovemaking out in the park on the hillside where it had all begun.
"Nothing wrong with a little lustful thought now and then, just as long as I don't act on it."
"Nothing wrong with what pop?"
Startled he scanned the room until his eyes found Scamp, lying with his furry muzzle propped on a pillow that lay on the carpet just shy of the piano. The pup looked thoughtful as he pushed up on his haunches and came towards his father, his eyes showing an inquisitive interest.
"N...nothing....I...was just thinking out loud" he stuttered.
"Yeah...sure. Whatever you say pop" the pup said a sly look gracing his face. "I think I have some idea as to what you were thinking."
Tramp couldn't help blushing, his skin becoming hot underneath his fur.
"Whirlwind...it's not what you think it is. It's just something that I've been contemplating lately...a problem that I've finally been able to solve."
"Dad I know what's been wrong and I'm happy for you, both you and mom" Scamp growled smiling knowingly. "I'm glad you both are seeing eye to eye now."
The older dog was dumbfounded.
"Wait...then you...saw...
The pup nodded
"You were supposed to be asleep son. You know how dangerous the streets can be. Besides, what happens between me and your mother isn't something that you should be thinking about. You'll understand when you have a mate of your own...
"Yeah, whenever that'll be" the pup scoffed hanging his head. "Angel's gone! She was taken away dad to another family. You seriously believe that I don't understand what it feels like to love someone? I'd give anything to see her again."
"I know you would son" Tramp almost whispered jumping down from the cushioned bench and sitting facing his son. "Sometimes...in life, you meet special dogs, dogs that mean a lot and dogs that you never forget."
"She wasn't just any dog. I loved her" Scamp whined.
"I know...I know."
Seeing his son hurt like this pained Tramp. He had been aware of the spark between his son and Angel when he first had met her back when they had saved Scamp from Reggie. Both were dreamy eyed even then.
He remembered how happy the two had been when they had all come home together and Angel had been excepted as one of the family. With a pang he recalled overhearing the Darlings decision, how they had decided that it was too crowded in their home and that Angel would have to go.
A family had come for her not too soon afterwards and his son had been devastated when she had left. The pup hadn't been the same after that although Tramp had made it an effort to be with him every chance he got.
Gently he leaned down and ran his tongue between Scamps' ears rhythmically trying to sooth him.
"We all lose those we care about. Moving on is one of the hardest things that you'll ever have to do Whirlwind, but I promise, you'll find someone and when you do both of you will love each other."
"Maybe" the smaller dog whispered his voice shaky. "I hope you're right."
"Tramp...."
Lady's voice drifted to them from the other room and they both froze both hardly daring to breathe.
"You had better hide Whirlwind.." Tramp whispered nudging the pup with a paw. "Your mother won't be happy to know that your awake at this hour. We'll talk more later."
"But pop what if she catches me..
"She will if you don't hide now! When she's not looking go but for now behind the sofa. Quick!"
Just in time the pup scampered away to crouch down and out of sight behind the sofa just as Lady peeked in around the corner of the doorway.
*Dodged a bullet there!* Breathing a sigh of relief Tramp straightened himself up and cock his head in a casual manner towards the doorway.
"Yeah pidge...in here."
Not a moment too soon did he reach the couch before he heard his mother's voice again and the soft sound of her paws hitting the carpet as she padded into the room.
"Tramp? I thought I heard voices out here...are you alright?"
Heart racing Scamp waited to catch his fathers' response shivering slightly all too well knowing the punishment for sneaking around at night if his mother caught him.
"I was just thinking aloud to myself is all. I'm fine pigeon honest. It's just sometimes I think back and remember all of the things that have happened to me and am amazed that I'm still alive and what's more that I was lucky enough to end up with you."
A moment of silence, shuffling, the sound of steady breathing and then the wet sound of a lick.
"And I'm lucky to be with you too Tramp....."
Scamp could tell by the sound of his mothers' voice that she had more to say but was debating whether or not to say the rest. Apparently his father caught it too for he shuffled slightly, an uneasiness to his movement.
"But....?"
"But, you seem sad and I know you well enough by now to know when something is wrong. Are you sure you're alright" she said quietly her voice soft and tender?
More wet sounds filling the room and assailing his ears. Kissing.
"Really...I'm A okay kid. I feel better then any dog half my age."
With a happy chuckle he could hear his mothers' voice change again for a third time.
"You're the best dog there ever was. I think I know of a way I could get you to cheer up."
"Pidge...you....mmmm...that is you don't have to....nnnmmmm."
Soon there were slurping noises and an intake of breath and a sultry moan.
*Great! Dad's burying the bone with mom and I'm stuck here! Maybe this'll make it easier to sneak away with both of them caught up in....in...each other. Weird thought.*
Gulping he slowly inched forward, peeking inch by inch around the arm of the sofa hoping against hope that he could still sneak away without his mother finding out. Thankfully the house was a wave of the scent of him, his sisters, the humans and Tramp and Lady...but still, there was always a chance that his mother would pick up on the freshness of his scent.
"Oh Tramp!!!! Nnnnnoooaaahhh!!!"
He froze and tried to focus his eyes in the darkness. He could see his father hunched up over his mother, their bodies moving quickly and smoothly together, slick sloppy thwacking noises meeting his ears in sync with the rocking of the figures of his parents.
"Mmmmm!! Yeah Pidge! Yeah!!!"
Moving along the wall Scamp couldn't help but drool at the thought of his parents both together, joined in such a carnal way.
I can't think like that though or I'll get caught! If I can just make it to the door....
"Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Tramp! So.........nnnnnggaaaahhhhh TRAMP!!!!!"
"PIDGE!!!!"
Scamp could hear as well as smell both climax together as both Tramp and Lady moaned together as Tramps' knot slipped in and they tied. Both were shaking and panting as they copulated and he had to force himself to move onward past the doorway down the hall and to his bed in the pantry.
Circling around on his doggy pillow he flopped down ending up on his back looking at the ceiling, his parents voices still audible to his keen hearing. His mind wandered to Angel and to the past when he'd been a junkyard dog.
He knew that the streets were dangerous and that that facing that dangerous for most meant a one way trip to the pound. A chill ran through him as he remembered Reggie, the dank dark stench of fear and the continuous whining of those who had not a hope. And yet he would eagerly face it all again if only to see Angel again, to feel her close to him and smell her sweet scent while she chided him for something he'd done wrong or teased him in her chipper well meaning way.
His head sagged a bit as he remembered with bittersweet fondness the night they had shared together, chasing fireflies, tumbling around and racing through town in, ending up at Tony's to share a delicious feast and a kiss.
If only to have that again.
A single tear rolled down his muzzle as he tried desperately to escape the memories and find sleep, peace of mind. Rest was what he needed more then anything and when it came he welcomed it like a long lost friend.
Early morning brought grogginess and grey light that shifted into a bright golden warmth that fell on his fur and steadily prodded him out of sleep. Unfortunately and to his utter dread it also brought his three yipping yelling sisters who hopped around his bed.
"Wake up! Wake up broooother! Wake up!!! Time to rise! Heh heh and uh...shine!! Yeah yeah that's right shine!"
With how goofy and low it sounded that had to be Danielle.
"Sleeping in at this hour!? Simply disgraceful! Get out of bed lazy bones!"
*Gaaahhh! Collette with her matter of fact ways. Makes a dog wish he could dig a hole for himself instead of his favorite chew toy! Just a little more sleep!*
"The sun is shining, the day is new!! Come on bro! We wanna play!"
Annette. Although he did feel a little comradeship towards her...being yelled at this early was a cruelty that he couldn't take.
Blearily he stretched and opened his eyes just in time to be bumped into and pushed from his bed, the breath leaving his lungs as he landed on the harder, colder floor in surprise.
It seemed Danielle believed that he'd been in bed long enough and had decided to ram him out.
All three of them bounced up and down excitedly.
"Hooray! He's up and at em! Hooray for brother!!!"
"Would you guys knock it off! I ought to bite each of you morons" he growled as soon as he caught his wind. "I doubt our parents are even awake yet!"
"Since when has that mattered? Now we can say that we've woken up before mother! And you can too" Collette giggled. "Doesn't that make you feel wonderful! Now we can call her the sleepyhead! It'll be great!!"
"Sure it does. It makes me feel all kinds of wonderful" Scamp groaned sarcastically before smiling wryly. "I'd love to see you try to tell mother that. Perhaps her wrath can persuade you not to disturb the sleep of others. Now 'that' would make me feel wonderful."
Wagging his tail at the thought Scamp hiked up a hind leg and began scratching himself clicking his tongue near the end in the trademark scratch that he and his dad shared. Back when he had tried to join the junkyard dogs it had almost been a dead give away that he was a relation to Tramp which had almost ended badly with Buster so hell bent on revenge.
Yawning he stood and rolled his tired muscles waiting for his prissy sister to shoot some sort of rebuttal at him or for one of the others to attack him.
Instead all three sisters just stood and stared at him wagging their small tails in excitement. After several moments of this he began to feel uncomfortable sitting down and licking one of his paws nervously.
"So why wake up this early and why are you all staring at me like that? Have I sprouted another ear or something or is this just another of your games?"
"Hee hee no game" Danielle muttered chuckling to herself.
It was Annette who answered him winking at her sisters before hand which gave him a funny feeling that he was being set up for some sort of prank.
"Well last night before bed we were talking and I let slip how fun it was to sneak out and watch mom and dad" she began choosing her words carefully. "We got to think though...the way they were acting if doing the same thing ourselves would make us feel as good. We also thought that if it was to work we'd have to bring you along to play dads part, but getting caught wouldn't bare thinking about and the park sounded like the safest place away from mother or father."
"Whoa...whoa! What!? I must not be hearing you right! Let me get this straight, you, all of you, my well to do annoyingly well behaved sisters who would never do anything that mother didn't sanction herself want to sneak off without telling anyone, do adult things that you probably shouldn't and what's more you want to have me along for the ride?"
"Exactly" Collette said matter of factly raising an eyebrow. "None of us can do...well..do what dad did and you being the most devious of our litter we were sure that if we brought you along you'd figure out a way for all of us to enjoy ourselves."
Leaning his muzzle forward until he was right in her face Scamp chuckled.
"Well I'll admit I'm floor guys. I never would've thought that any of you had a naughty side to them much less you" he growled bumping his nose meaningfully against Collettes'.
Winking at him the spaniel gave him a lick on the nose.
"We three have our naughty side...but you can't ever breathe a word to anyone."
"Who said I ever would...that's usually how you guys work" he retorted with a grin.
"If you'd be so kind then Scamp lead the way" she grinned licking her lips. " Since you know the park best it would probably work out better if you did then one of us."
"Fair enough. Just be quiet though, that is unless you do want to get caught."
It all seemed weird to him, his sisters cooperating for once with him and not just one but all three. Against his better judgment he decided that he'd play along. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that soon the trap or the trick would be brought down on his head if he wasn't vigilant and constant guard against all three.
They made their way slowly out of the pantry and past the door that let to the family room half expecting at any moment for the humans to wake or their parents to bustle out and ask them all what they were doing up so early. To their surprise and delight however they were able to each jump through the swinging doggy dog and down the steps of the porch and into the front yard.
Danielle giggled not being able to hold in her mirth at the ease of their escape until she was shushed by one of the others.
Collette keep humming to herself no doubt nervous about actually taking part in something outside of her normal day to day activities. Every few moments she would clear her throat or cough much to the annoyance of the others.
Annette for her part was much like him, quiet and aware of everything around her and watchful for anything unexpected. Her ears were up as much as they could be and each step she took was careful.
They followed the winding twisting lane down from the villa's keeping close to the walls and fences where they could. The trees grew in a line that wound with the lane, each fenced in by little rail pickets in a way hemming in the walkways from the road. The scent of lilacs permeated the morning air as the town slumbered on before waking with a new day. Scamp fell into a steady trot as they neared main street making his way through an alley to the east that lead into the park.
Few people were up and those that were gave little thought to seeing three puppies padding along to the park. As they neared the bridge and the pond Collette cleared her throat causing all of them to stop and Danielle to burst out laughing randomly at their success.
"Hee hee hee hee hee hee haaaaaaahhh! We made it! We actually made it! Let's get too fun! Ha haaaa!"
"Not yet" Collette chided her shaking her head.
Annette nodded in agreement. "Definitely not, is there a place where we'd have more privacy Scamp?"
All three turned to him expectantly.
Embarrassment coursed through him and his heartbeat quickened as for the first time he hesitated upon further thought on what they planned to do. Thus far they had been in this together but he wasn't sure he wanted to leave anything to chance with his sisters.
"Um...heh there's a small thicket up ahead on a hill I think but are you all sure you still wanna do this? I mean we could just enjoy being out here and then head home.."
"Not on your life bro" Annette growled in amusement. "Lead the way Scamp."
Sighing resignedly he resumed walking leading them over the bridge and up the hill choosing a spot in the hedge where the foliage curved a bit inward to create a barrier from prying eyes.
Turning back bashfully he noticed the hungry looks the other three were wearing as they closed in on him.
"Shouldn't we think on this maybe just a bit" he whined wagging his tail and backing up slightly? "What if mom eeehhooohh!!"
Annette came at him from the side dipping her head under his belly to drag her tongue along his sheath. "Danielle dear...why don't you back up under him and I'll help you both out...then Collette, you and me can have 'our' fun."
All he could do was shiver and gasp as he felt her tongue touch the inside of his sheath coaxing his most private organ from it's furry hiding place. Without thinking one of his hind legs lifted slightly to allow his sister better access to him.
"Ggeeee nnnngghh Annette..mmm ahhh!"
With a delicate paw she had released most of his girth and had wrapped her lips around his shaft causing him to drool and arch his back. He found it hard not to start humping her muzzle and thrust home like all of his instincts told him, urged him to do. With each sucking slurping sound came another wave of pleasure and gasped feeling trapped in her moist and greedy mouth.
Without a doubt she had been the one to orchestrate all of this.
For a moment he nearly stumbled when Danielle pushed herself under him while Annette pulled his cock gently back to hang quivering in one of her forepaws.
"That's it Danielle. Now crouch down between his front paws and raise your rear towards me. Don't forget to raise your tail up as well, I'll guide him in" Annette growled mischievously from behind him giving his cock an approving squeeze. "Your quite big brother...not that I've had any experience to compare you to but I must admit I'm impressed."
He moaned and looked back over his shoulder at her, one of his ears flopping over his face at an angle.
"Ohhhh! You have no idea how good this feels! I'll admit...mmmm, I didn't expect you to ever be doing something ...like...like this. Oooooooh!"
Danielle now had her rump touching the front of his belly and sheath, her tail grazing his emerging knot and the back of her neck just brushing up against his chest.
"Well then believe it cause I've got an idea that we're all going to enjoy this. I'm next. Brace yourself sister, here he comes" she said with glee.
Her paw gripped him then and he shuddered yipping and panting as she pointed him down, grinding his sensitive skin against his sisters tail, down past the small opening of her ass which moved slightly to a hot and wet place between her legs lower down. Dogs almighty was it warm!
He whimpered as she pointed his tip between that hot slick smooth cleft which yielded to his flesh. Overwhelmed by need he thrust once sinking into it and earning a howl from Danielle below him.
Behind them he could hear moaning and sucking noises and he tilted his head to catch a glimpse of his other siblings together, Collette standing over Annette, both sucking between the others legs and murring in pleasure.
But he couldn't focus on them.
Thrusting faster bodily fluids mixed with that of his sister beneath him. She arched up and he met her, her body shaking underneath his. Hammering in and out he gritted his teeth and nearly howled unsure just how long he could last.
His eyes wandered while he kept up his work, tongue licking his chops. He tried to focus on anything to last longer, the tree further up the hill, the sky, the bushes and something else. Something headed towards them at a lope that swam before his vision blurred by his bliss.
It seemed to be...another dog. It was big and tall with a short tail and a well muscled body. It was sniffing around for something for a moment and then it raised it's head and looked directly at them, a confident smirk creeping along it's face as it slowly made it's way closer to the siblings.
A claw of absolute horror clutched at his heart and he whined at once pulling out of Danielle and cowering.
"Uh...guys! We need to go."
"Heh no we don't! Really Scamp you've been overly annoying" Collette growled in irritation. "If I didn't know any better I'd of thought that we switched places. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"
"Never mind that" he yipped fearfully. "We need to run! It's Buster!"
Impatiently he inclined his head towards the Doberman trotting straight for them.
"Run as fast as you can!"
"But who is that? Scamp...maybe...."
"No! Run now!!!! I'm right behind you" he howled pushing Danielle to her paws. "Hurry!"
All three bolted at the urgency in his voice and he behind them. He dashed down the hill heading for the bridge and town hoping against hope that they could all make it home. He'd take any punishment any grounding or scolding from his parents happily if only they all came out of this safely. He'd been a fool to agree to come to the park in the first place! Why? Did he really had to learn things the hard way over and over again!?
His sisters had nearly made it to the bridge! He looked back.
The Doberman was right behind him!
With all of the energy he had he ran as fast as he could go, his paws flying over the grass and the soil beneath it. He was almost there, so close when he felt a heavy weight barrel him over roughly and for the second time that morning the air was wisped from his lungs.
*Well at least my sisters got away and can get help.*
The grey dog lay on his back trying to regain his breath as the Doberman came closer, looming over him with a nasty smile that showed every last one of his pearly sharp teeth.
*Buster's going to kill me!*
Hot breath as the Doberman stood over him and laughed laying a hefty paw on Scamps chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.
"Do mine eyes deceive? If it isn't Scamperoo having some fun in the park with the locals." Shaking his great head the older dog clicked his tongue in rebuke. "Gotta hand it to ya kid you're your father's son alright...playing around with the dames just like he did. That mutt always did have a weakness for em."
"Better to be like him then you Buster" Scamp growled trying to muster whatever courage he could given his hapless situation. He knew that he didn't have a chance at all.
"He's twice the dog you'll ever be!"
With a worried yipe the pup flinched and squirmed as he felt pressure being added to his chest.
"I've always been better then Tramp! Neither you or him could ever match up to me...brains or brawn I've got you both beat by a long shot" Buster snarled.
Scamp looked up at his tormentor and bared his own teeth.
"Well then do your worst. Get it over with! Kill me! I know you want to Buster."
"Oh I want to....but I won't. I've got bigger cats to skin then that and better ways to get back at my enemy. For now though I'm going to show you how much better I am then your father or any other dog. Now get to your paws and spread your hind legs sport or I swear I'll really hurt you."
Limbs shaking Scamp rose to his paws looking up at the Doberman pleadingly.
"Can't you just let me go? I've nothing you want and you must know that I don't care. I'll run when I get my strength back."
Buster shook his head casually his eyes nearly slits as he scoffed.
"No you won't run Scampster."
The pup cocked his head in confusion whining slightly at Buster's cruel hints. He could tell that something was up...something big and complex. Buster had always been a dog with a plan and knowing how the Doberman did things Scamp was completely sure that his old enemy knew something that he didn't.
"Your weakness kid was always obvious to me from the first day you came to the junkyard, Angel. She always was your Achilles heel."
Hackles rising Scamp stared in disbelief at Buster.
"What...what do you know about Angel? If you've hurt her..."
"Nah...hey hey hey hey hey! Relax kid. She's perfectly fine and rejoined with the streets and a new pack that is run by an old friend who has turned up at the most opportune time. She'll remain that way if...and only if you do exactly what I say for now."
Trapped! He had known that Buster was crafty but this?
"I have your word that if I do exactly as you say...that you won't hurt Angel and that you'll take me to her?"
"I promise. Now your seeing the big picture you can kindly spread those legs now."
Without a word Scamp did what he was told hating himself for doing so. For a moment nothing and then the sniffing cold nose of the Doberman pressing up against his back entrance. He groaned and spread his legs further as he felt a huge tongue push open his ass spreading him with wet power that melted him down to nothing but a primal submissive.
"Ahh the puppy likes that" Buster cooed mockingly.
"Prepare to become my bitch mutt!"
With that the dog pushed the head of his cock into Scamp parting his anal ring without warning or care. Scamp for his part yelped at the top of his voice as the pain spiral up and into the only thing in existence. Pain that threatened to rip him in two at any moment.
The larger dog chuckled and sunk in pushing inch by agonizing inch deeper and deeper into the younger dog. Buster was silent save for his excited thrusts that picked up speed as he gave more and more of himself.
Something was caressed and touch in Scamp that blinded him to the rest turning the pain to numbness before becoming the purest form of pleasure he'd ever experienced in his short life. Clawing at the ground he writhed and found himself pushing back slightly against the Doberman, found himself actually enjoying how big and powerful Buster was.
He gasped in a quick intake of air focusing on that sweet spot that his enemy kept hitting inside of him, that spot that made his dick hard beneath him without any stimulation to it even causing it to drip globs of pre and throb along with each thrust and each fluttering beat of his heart.
He could barely stand it or resist and his body betrayed him giving in to bow before the might of his foe.
With a pleasured grunt the Doberman behind him began pushing his knot into Scamp as he came inside of the pups anal tunnel, cum spewing down Scamps' legs and balls.
It gushed inside of him and with a moan that steadily turned into a howl Scamp let himself erupt, his doggy seed spilling down to paint the grass white beneath him.
Buster flopped down dragging Scamp with him and both lay in restful afterglow with the smaller of them moaning and yipping blissfully at being so full.
"Heh...just like your father" Buster said grinning slyly. "No questions now. I'm taking you to see Angel but there's someone who wants to meet you first. She's an old friend of mine and she can't wait to see you" the Doberman growled menacingly raising an eyebrow, "or your father....
Tramp raced through town breathlessly his pads thundering over cobblestones and pavement as he made his way to the park stopping to check and mark the scents drifting to him through chill evening air.
As soon as he'd seen his three daughters rushing in to tell Lady about them escaping a big dog in the park and how Scamp had been attacked by it he had dashed off without a second thought, heedless of the humans, not caring that he had knocked over Jim Dear in the process of bursting down the porch and out into the open. All he cared about was the safety of his family and finding his son.
He had checked as many places as he could think of, main street, around the villa's, uptown, downtown, and all of the park. Taking a moment to rest he sat and gave himself a scratch before resuming his search.
Places in the park bore some remnants of Scamps scent in particular one place where two scents had meshed together. Buster....
The need to find his son grew more and more urgent as more time passed.
Soon his pawsteps saw him along the bit of tracks that wound their way out of the park and along the edges of town. In the distance a rising water tower and a train pulled into a now abandoned station, the lights and motor dead until humans came to operate the huge mobile machine. How humans came up with how things like automobiles and trains remained a mystery to him and he snuffed continuing on until he spotted a familiar place.
Almost in a trance he saw the small pool of water created by the steady drip of water that feel from the water tower, the barrel where he used to sleep and enjoy hearing the trains pull in and out of the station with the morning and the early evening. With a slightly bittersweet pang he remembered that day long ago when he had started out from this very spot through a day riddled with a series of events that had eventually led him to Jock, Trusty and Lady.
Back then they had been talking about the possibility of the humans bringing a baby into their household and what it would mean for Lady.
He chuckled to himself as he fondly remember how riled he'd made Jock when he'd busted in on them and interrupted, sharing his opinion of things.
For all times sake he bent down and sampled some of the water from the pool shivering in relief at the cold fresh liquid as it revitalized him. It held within it the tang of the wild and the questionable, the memories as well as longing. He both loved and hated how it felt to be here once again.
More water started falling from the sky then usual signaling rain, the second storm in less then a day. Looking around for shelter Tramp finally decided on the station entering it warily and scenting the air for any suspicious smells.
It was all clear.
Feeling utterly beat he curled up near a small table set with one old coffee pot probably left behind by one of the humans. Sleep found him on swift wings and soon he was dreaming of home.
The sound of a someone singing was the thing that woke him...resounding mid the storm clearly in his ears.....
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDTjio-Ks94](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDTjio-Ks94)
With the end of the melody a strange dog padded slowly through the doorway meeting his questioning gaze with cold sharp blue eyes. He shook his head hardly believing what he was seeing.
"Julie? Is it really you? Jewl?"
For a moment the Dalmatian smiled sweetly at him, obviously amused by his semi conscious state.
Wagging her long tail she sauntered in giving herself a shake and sending water everywhere. Coyly crossing her front legs she sat near him her rear just out of reach of his front paws.
"Why hello handsome. Fancy me meeting you here. May I ask what brings you out on a night like this?"
Her voice was soft and flowing and he couldn't help chuckling at her compliment.
"Your very kind but age has caught up with me. I've settled down and really have forgotten quite a bit since then. Being a street dog is mostly a memory for me now."
"I..find that very hard to believe stud" Julie whispered in something between a hiss and a snap as if she hated the thought. "And as for you being over the hill...parish the thought love. You've still got the devilish good looks that you used to. You could get under my tail any day!"
The Schnauzer-mix stuttered a bit.
"Get under what?"
Laughing out loud she wagged her tail flipping her ears so that they whacked her head with audible thumps.
"You heard what I said Tramp. Admit it! You want to get under my tail just like you used to. But you still haven't answered my question. Why are you here?"
"Well my son is missing" he admitted sadly sitting up and hanging his head. "I don't know where he is or what happened but I'm afraid Buster's got him."
"Well if that's the case I'll help you find him. That Doberman always was trouble and jealous of you!"
"Wait...you don't have to" Tramp growled. "This is my problem and I can deal with Buster if I have to."
The Dalmatian sighed and shook her head.
"I've no doubt of that hot stuff. However it would be the least I could do to help you find your son wherever he is. Your kin and family mean a lot to me. I've always cared for you so what d'ya say to sleeping here together and then starting out looking for Buster and your son bright and early tomorrow? If that Doberman want's a fight two is better then one."
After giving it some thought he nodded in gratitude, grinning down at her with his tongue lolling from his jaws.
"Well if you insist then thank you Julie. I truly am in your debt."
"I know you are stud" she whined in a seductive tone her tail raising to reveal the spade shaped mound of her tender folds bunched before him as she raised her body forward while still on her haunches. "That's why you need to pay up. It's a small thing that can easily be taken care of."
"I couldn't" he muttered sniffing the air and licking his lips despite himself.
"Come on! Where's the lovable scoundrel that I knew when last I saw you? Just this once...for all times sake. I'll never ask again unless you want me to, promise."
All of his better judgment screamed at him to decline her offer, to think of Lady and not be tempted. But in the end his feral urge won out.
"You sure you want this?"
"You know I do...now come along and have some 'fun' with me" she yipped facing away from him and wiggling her rump in his direction.
Straddling her he placed his front paws on either side of her slender body arching his read down closer to her and grinding his sheath against her back in a sensual slow movement.
He was already erect and he could feel a bit of his juices coating her back as with a shuddering grunt he rammed himself into her pussy earning a howl from her that rang in his ears.
"Ohhhh what a dog!!"
Inside she was less tight then Lady but gifted, her muscles working his cock like he'd never experienced before. Added to that she was extremely wet and slippery, her folds schlorping her fluids around and past his cock to leak down her legs and down his sheath.
This was the messiest sex he'd had in a long long time and yet he loved every minute of it. Her squeals of delight and the pulsing shuddering warmth of her body around him.
She came the first time and her walls contracted around him squeezing him to the point of being unbearable while squirting out more of her cum that drenched the fur on his back paws.
He nailed her again and again hammering away at her love tunnel as his lust grew along with the tingling warm feeling growing in the pit of his loins.
"Tie me nnnnnggghhh!!!! Oh Tramp!!!!!!!"
"Hang on...gggggrrrrr.....mmmmm nnaaaaaaahhhhh!!!"
With a final thrust he lunged forward slipping his knot in spilling his cream down her vaginal passage drooling and growling in a half whimper half groan. Both howled together before with an exhausted moan he flopped down opposite her breathing hard.
"Whoa! Heh are you always so wet" he panted a silly smile covering his muzzle.
Looking back at him the Dalmatian laughed teasingly moving her ass and causing him to whimper a bit. "Always. Now all we have to do is wait for you to deflate big boy."
"I'm sorry" he growled smiling sheepishly. "Don't mean to inconvience you."
"Think nothing of it sexy" she murred licking her lips. "I can't think of a better way to fall asleep...."
It was cold, damp and completely miserable.
The rain had stopped some time ago and yet he still felt drenched. Scamp whined pitifully in dreams his mind the only comfort. There was Angel.
She was perfect, her scent that of the rosemary in the park, her fur the light cream, smooth and fluffy all at once. She kissed him and he sighed meeting her tongue with his and sharing saliva. She pushed him on his back and he obeyed without a thought. Smiling at him through his splayed legs she began licking him soothingly, in no time his girth was filing out in excitement to greet her and she lathered it all with wet sloppy love. Pre and drool dripped down his shaft at each lick until she was sucking him and he came hard.
She swallowed it all letting only a bit drop back down on the side of his member facing him a playful smile on her face.
"I love you Tenderfoot..."
"I love you too my Angel...... | FSE |
Title: The Furry Dead Chapter V by Arlen Blacktiger
Tags: Anal, Character Development, Harsh, Insanity, M/F, M/M/M, Oral, Orgy, Plot Development, Semi-NC, Story Progression
Chapter V
Whenever the voices came, they felt like worms crawling through his brain and chest, coiled around a sense of dread and ecstasy. Dread that they would tell his father things, things that would make father furious with him. Ecstasy, because of the rewards he would feel in his heart when he did as the voices asked, begged, cajoled.
Sometimes, though, the voices demanded too many things, so many he could not possibly complete them all, and then the voices would scream at him, filling his mind without benefit of using ears he could cover against the ringing, stinging deluge of suffering. They would flood him with screams of his worthlessness, shiftlessness. Worst of all, they would do it in father's booming, rumbling voice.
There were only three cures for the voices. He could do their bidding though they would always come up with another thing later, and often their bidding led to father being angry in person. Secondly, he could find a woman and cut her until the voices quieted, replaced by her shrieks of fear and begging for mercy and final, ringing silence. Thirdly, he could do as he did now.
The lithe little feline clenched his claws into the chain mail skirt in front of him, feeling the smooth, cold texture of dry steel against his fingerpads as the soldier grunted and slammed his thick-furred balls into the tiger's chin, gagging him deliciously with the burning, throbbing, pointed spike of flesh the movement shoved down the tiger's throat.
His throat fluttered on the red, throbbing cock, as he rolled his eyes up to the wolf soldier. He had his head tilted back, his paws wrapped in the tiger's long, silky, well-loved hair, and was straining, the near-painful anticipation of an explosive orgasm written all over his face.
As he grinned around his throatful, the tiger wriggled his hips, twitching them to and fro as his tail danced, before being snatched by a rough, armored paw. The bear railing him grunted and thrusted, his thick blunt shaft drawing a gurgled squawk of pleasure from the impaled tiger and a muted, sullen silence from the voices.
His grin broadened as his eyes slid fluidly to the bodyguard. The lion was stoic, his golden brown eyes staring straight ahead like a stone-carved sentinel, ignoring the soldiers using his charge like a cheap street whore in the way bodyguards did; seeing nothing, but watching everything. The veteran warrior looked unruffled, pristine, his armor polished to a mirror-fine gloss, his footpaws spread in readiness for battle at any moment.
The tiger arched his hips and clamped down, playing his practiced muscles along the bear's thick, turgid cock, drawing a strangled sound from the creature's throat as it gripped him, steel plate gauntlets digging harshly into his slender hips as the bear gave one last thrust and began blasting his insides full of the stickiness that always seemed to disgust the voices into silence.
The garrison knew the drill by now. A reluctant-looking wolf was pulling on heavy blackened-chain gauntlets as his patrol partner helped tie his padded gambeson into place so that they could get his chain on without chafing him. His pants were open, leather ties hanging to the sides, a startled-looking young girl whore from the streets working over his reddened cock with her lips and fingers, while shooting disbelieving looks at the debauched tiger arching and swallowing the sergeant's cock to the balls.
The girl's jaw ached, and her ears buzzed with the echoed grunting and slapping of flesh. By pure habit, she lifted a delicate paw and wrapped it around the wolf's base, feeling the soft, supple skin of his sheathe bunched up under her fingers and gathered at the base of a half-grown knot. The girl dove forward, swallowing repeatedly to avoid choking as the hard tip scraped her throat.
The wolf she was suckling sucked in a breath, hard, and grabbed her jaw hard, digging armored fingers into the joint to force it open. She choked, gagging as his twitching tip drizzled the back of her throat with a spurt of liquid, before she was thrown clear of his dick with a shove that sent her sprawling. As she looked up, surprised, she saw the wolf with a strained, squinted expression, his fingers clamped tight on the thick tube running under his cock, squeezing off the unexpected release she'd pulled out of him.
"Damnit, girl, you want me to die?"
She goggled at him, as the bear she'd seen fucking the duke's younger sun pulled his sodden cock free with a disquieting slurping sound, and waddled off to clean his cum-dripping shaft, looking somehow relieved in a fashion that had nothing to do with emptying his pendulous balls.
The wolf she'd been suckling stood, gripping himself by the base, and gave her one last glare as he strode over to the duke's son, grabbing roughly at a bruised spot on the youth's hip. The lithe creature wriggled, purring around the cock in its mouth and all along its back as the tail lashed, like a flag glorying in pain, before being grabbed by the wolf as it maneuvered itself, then pried the young adult's pucker open with his tip and slid smoothly inside the cum-dripping passage.
Another soldier, the one who'd assisted with the draw-strings of the wolf now fucking Toryen Casso waved her over, and the girl approached him, kneeling down to undo his breeches. She half-expected to be shoved away again, and was cringing despite the paw that fell to her headfur and stroked at her pointed lupine ears, as she dove in and took his tip between her lips, tasting of musk and soap.
"Sorry girl, the young lord doesn't like it when his favorites spill in anyone else." As he spoke, his paw stroked her ear, trailing gently along the outer shell. This one had no armor, and was slighter than the other soldiers she'd seen crawling all over the young lordling.
The girl perked her ears in his fingers, wagging her tail hesitantly. The kind words gave her a tingle, a warm feeling of worth she got nowhere else, and it led her to lean into her work, placing both paws on the gentle-voiced wolf's thighs as she slurped at his cock, teasing the wet red shaft from his sheath and traced the veined length with her tongue.
"Only reason you're here is to get some of them ready for him. He doesn't care they don't like boys."
She furrowed her brows at him, confusion written on her face. The lord was frightening her, acting so far outside his station as to be scandalous, and scandal often led to silencings, when peasants were involved.
Behind her, the soldier slammed his hips forcefully against the tiger's, grunting as his knot popped in, and she heard the young lord give a cock-gurgling yowl, feral as a jungle cat, as he released all over the floor beneath him.
She tuned him out, keeping to the task at hand, a cold shiver running up her spine as she noted the sorry look she was getting from the receiver of her ministrations.
The soldier had lied to her, not wanting to fill her last hours before Toryen got around to her with dread. It wouldn't save her, so putting her through the fear would be pointlessly cruel.
With a grunt of relief he emptied his balls into her throat, stroking her ears with his paws as he softly cursed under his breath. He hoped it wouldn't be his last time too. Rumors from the road were ill, and the messenger they'd sent on to the keep hadn't spurred any action from the Duke.
Unconsciousness clung to her, like a mother cradling its child, shielding her from all the hurt and suffering and tears and pain, cocooned in a gossamer web of black. For a time she snuggled into it, lost in that comfortable dark dream, in which she was whole and small and loved and warm as a mother's arms.
In time, her dream changed, shifting like glassy sand in the relentless wind of desert night. She felt a sense of parchedness, a prickle in her throat and eyes and lips, the dryness of the dying.
Through her mind's eye, she saw the high, dry, hilly country of her birth, so far from the lands she'd come to as to be unthinkable for most. Months she had traveled, and she remembered now every bump, scrape, and scratch. She recalled in vivid tactile detail every deprivation of the road, every loneliness of spirit, and recalled the pain of knowing she deserved every test, for having left her people behind.
She remembered meeting another fur along the road, dirty and disheveled in battered armor, but smiling brightly and polite all the same. She remembered her disguise, how she'd strapped her breasts down with spare cloth and worn oversized garments that made her look like a child in order to hide her luckily slender hips. When she offered to help him out of his damaged armor, he'd happily agreed, and when they'd been set upon by Torian footsoldiers, she had acquitted herself well with her walking staff and then borrowed sword.
The handsome young lion had, after they'd finally driven the enemy off, thanked her for her assistance and given her the grandest opportunity; he hired her as his bodyguard, armed and armored her, and in time she came to discover he was the traveling Prince Callian, journeying the continent to learn of it before a crown could pin his head to the Scaled Throne of Darath.
An ache, felt deep in her chest, joined the tightness she hadn't until then realized she had been feeling. Her eyes felt hot, dry, stinging, and her lungs constricted, empty of air, her whole gut clenched with restrained sobs. She had loved him for his fairness, his kindness, his non-judgmental nature, and as much as anything else for his willingness to help her become what she had wished to be without thinking less of her for trying.
She awoke to the sensation of hot tears slipping into the bandages around her eyes, her body too leaden to lift a paw and brush at them. For a few moments, she had forgotten how badly injured she was, and the circumstances she was in. With a jolt, accompanied by a searing wave of nauseating pain and a sudden gasp, images of a maddened wolf and a slender, pretty priest doing battle in the rain reminded her.
Cel's vision was filled with explosions and stars, as the waves of agony roiling through her body slowly began to recede. She sucked in deep breaths, as deep as her body would allow. A change in the light and the rustle of a dry blanket told her someone was standing above her, but in a panic-riddled moment she realized she could not see.
A gentle paw touched her face, as she felt a presence settle next to her, the edges of a rough-spun woolen blanket touching her shoulder, as someone said soft words to her, words she knew but could put no image or sense to, until searing flashes of pain had ceased to pour through her body, leaving her in a numbed ache like a fire felt through layers of cloth.
Her lips sparked with prickling, as something was pressed to them, and she forced her muzzle open with the most effort it had ever taken, to bare her teeth and remind Royval of what had happened to his precious, beloved prick, or to remind evil little Toryen that he'd yet to manage a scream for mercy from her, something she suspected was the only reason he'd not gone too far and cut her throat yet.
Instead of the expected press of insistent flesh, or a belting across the teeth with a wooden club, a delicious cooling sensation spread over her battered gums and cheeks, pooling in her mouth and over her bitten, swollen tongue.
Finally, the voice spoke words that made sense, in a sotto voce near a whisper, soothing in a way that might normally raise her hackles, but in that moment made her want to cry with relief.
"Easy, easy friend. Its just water. I boiled it, its good to drink."
She managed, slow as a glacier, to give the slightest nod, before forcing her throat to remember what it was to swallow. The bruising pain there, dull and cold, reminded her in a vivid flash of young Toryen, naked and turgid-cocked, laughing and screaming as he held her by the throat, shaking her such that her skull was bouncing off the torture table he'd chosen to fuck her on.
Cel's swollen, sliced lip tried to turn up at the edge in a smirk, as soothing moisture flowed past it and into her maw. If there was any child, it would not be his. Somehow, the younger of the brothers had not been able to finish in her, not in the dozen times he'd tried. She hadn't screamed for him, except in rage, and she could still see in his face the frustration, the impotence, the inability to take his pleasure without it.
The voice intruded on her thoughts again, pushing back the dreamy floating that lingered around the edge of her consciousness.
"You have a serious fever and...Er..."
The hesitation preceded a shifting of the cloth, the shushing of wool being pushed about as her benefactor moved slightly in discomfort.
"Your wounds. They're quite severe. The infections will be bad."
He moved the water skin from her lips as she swallowed a third time, and she heard him moving again. Behind the unseen friend, she heard a fire crackling, and as she concentrated on breathing and forcing the pain away, Cel's back told her she was rested atop a sheeted straw mattress.
*No agent of Duke Casso, then.*
His voice sounded pained, tight and pinched, as if he were on the verge of tears, and she winced inwardly at the thought. Whoever this was, he was so upset by what had been done to her that it felt as if he were taking the torture on himself. Cel tried to speak, to come up with harsh words to steal his sympathy for her, but her body was still too ruined for it, her tongue too swollen and bitten, her throat too raw.
"Oh! My manners, ah...I'm Brother Timid, of the Finders. You are Sir...Um. Atarasi, Atarasi...Sir Kalos? Sir Raihon?"
She started, and it sent ripples of pain through her again, as her muscles tightened. The thought she'd had was blasted from her mind for a few seconds, until her exhausted nerves died away again. How could he tell where she was from, in her current state? As the priest went on, he spoke over a dozen common Atarasi names, though her homeland was months of travel away.
The ache in her head was growing, as she strained in the attempt to guess at this man and his agenda. She could not be sure this wasn't some form of ploy, though something beneath her fevered paranoia told her that she was overthinking, that the torments she had suffered were wreaking havoc on her judgment.
"Sir Kalas, Sir Terman, Sir Cel," the priest continued, his tail swishing in enjoyment at what felt to him like a game, as he carefully unwrapped bandages from the largely insensate knight, as she twitched and trembled in fever-sweats despite the heat of a cheerfully blazing fireplace not twenty feet from them..
She shifted slightly at that last name, her lips parting, cracking and beginning to bleed again as she tried to speak. Timid put a blessedly, finally dry paw to her lip, brushing it shut with the gentleness he'd have for touching a baby's down fur, though the motion made him clutch the dry blanket he'd swapped for, to keep from letting it fall and reveal his nudity beneath it.
"Shh, don't speak, your lips are cut. Sir Cel then. I'm going to have to unbind you, these bandages are muddy and will make your infections worse. This...I'm afraid it's going to hurt. I'm sorry."
Cel's lips twitched again, ignoring the priest's admonishment as she managed to force a few words, whispers slipping past the constriction in her throat as minnows through cracks in a dam.
"Pain...Is nothing..."
Timid hid his grimace, shifting the blind he'd placed over her bloodied eyes as he reached for the glistening-sharp knife he'd found in the kitchens. His eyes then trailed over the other supplies he'd found; heavy thread, sewing needles, honey, spider webs he'd stolen from their rightful denizens; he hoped it would be enough to save her. He closed his eyes, and reminded himself to have faith, that the vision would not be for nothing.
Cel gave a grunting, choked sound of pain as he pulled a bandage away from her face as carefully as he could, taking torn skin and clotted blood with it. Timid put a paw to a miraculously un-shredded strip of her cheek in gentle apology, as he prepared himself with prayer to battle what would be a grave fight to keep his stomach and remember his training. | FSE |
Title: How I Met Your Mother Ch. 08
Tags: secret agent
**How I Met Your Mother: Shattered Glass**
**76 Burrow Street**
The low tonal quality of the sound was the most frustrating part of it. The droning noise slowly pierced the veil of sleep, tearing through the fog that surrounded the synaptic relays. Eventually the noise reached a crescendo, forcing her into action.
"For God's sake, you're snoring again Andrew." Leah said as she jabbed him in the ribs with her fingers.
"Uhmm, what? Sorry." Andrew mumbled as he rolled over in bed.
\*\*\*\*
**New York**
**January**
She could tell by the way the old waitress behind the counter eyed her that she was worried a health inspector had just walked in. And she should have been, Leah mused as she slid into a booth. The plastic squeaked under her. She wiped the table lightly with a napkin and wished she had waited another freeway exit to find food.
The night was sinking in around the windows of the diner, stunted by the harsh orange glow of streetlamps that gave deep shadows to the already unwelcoming visages of the industrial area. It seemed a place where everything and nothing was possible, where the dark could hold your deepest nightmares or the absolute emptiness of solitude. The thought made her bones hurt.
She felt as if she were in a transit station for the universe, the only place where one could feel completely alone; yet hold in their hands any ending they desired. Despite the silver lining, she would be glad to get on the road again. The diner sat like an old Formica music box stuffed in a forgotten dark closet of the world, shining unearthly white in the despair. The buzzing of the florescent lights fed her growing anxiety. She eyed a jukebox in the corner but couldn't get her legs to move.
The old waitress squeaked over timidly. Clearly intimidated, she flopped a smudgy menu on the tabletop and asked if Leah wanted a beverage. She ordered coffee and the woman scurried off, returning with a beige cup and saucer and a steaming pot. Leah watched her fill it, cleared her throat and ordered the Monte Cristo. Wrinkles formed as the waitress forced a smile, swiped the menu and walked away.
Leah watched her behind her coffee cup, a twinkle in her eye and a smirk on her lips. Projection was an amazing attribute of the human mind, she thought. Everywhere she went she became everyone's greatest fear without trying or even knowing what he or she was scared of. She would have been lying if she said she didn't take advantage of it.
Leah hadn't had time to appreciate the diner being completely empty; she regretted this when the sound of the tarnished bell echoed off the tile as the front door swung open. She looked up from her black coffee and felt her legs tense. Her hands around the ceramic cup gripped like iron claws. Jaw muscles ached. Yet her face remained painted stoic; unsurprised, unimpressed, and unafraid.
The poor old waitress nearly fainted. While it was clear her new arrival wasn't the health inspector, he held even darker promises than her current customer. His leather coat creaked as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared across the restaurant at Leah. The mass of facial hair surrounding his face served as a hint at just how long it had been since she saw him last. From the right angle, they appeared as two gunslingers sizing up the enemy before a firefight.
Finally he acquiesced. Without any air of defeat, he began to walk over to her booth. He slid across from her without a word, dropping his rough hands on the tabletop and giving her a full once-over with his dark eyes. Leah did her best not to noticeably stiffen when the ends of his lips curled in a nearly invisible smile. Instead, she parried with her own smirk.
"Look what the cat dragged in." His smile widened substantially. He scratched an itch on the side of his scruffy visage and seemed to be remembering some old memory as he looked away and continued smiling. He almost looked happy as he appraised her.
"You're a hard woman to find."
"And I would have been impossible to find had I known you were ghosting me Andrew." She said with a quirked eyebrow. Andrew's smile turned condescending.
"Leah, we both knew I would come looking for you." Leah compromised with a nod. "Never underestimate stupidity or insanity, yeah?" His smile faded. She sipped her black coffee as the waitress crept over like a mouse walking through a viper's den. She set the sandwich before Leah and handed the stranger a menu. He gave her one of his most charming smiles that could have melted the coldest heart and asked for a soda. She hurried away.
The two remained silent until the soda had arrived. He reminded Leah of a child as he sipped it loudly through a bent white straw. She chastised herself for the sympathy. Andrew man sighed.
"So how long have you been after me?" Leah continued to ignore her sandwich, choosing instead to pick at her short nails.
"Two or three weeks." She replied. "Where did you put it?"
"You mean you don't know?" Andrew answered. "I take it you've looked in all the usual places?" She shrugged and ran her fingertips under her tired eyes.
"It's not every day that an agent goes rogue and steals three canisters of experimental CN-20 nerve toxin from a research laboratory, so you can understand that this is a little wider than whatever our issues were." She paused. "Besides, I've had nothing to do with the main operation Andrew. All my information is second hand." Andrew immediately scoffed, slumping into the booth.
"Please, Leah. The entirety of the Department is mobilised to track me down and you expect me to believe you had nothing to do with it?" Leah challenged him silently, giving him a look with her deep brown eyes that dared him to find a lick of dishonesty on her face. It was close enough to a signal of submission that Leah felt uncomfortable with her decision. Andrew sat dark and confused, a frown furrowing his brow. He stared at her face, searching intently. He quirked his head finally, tapped his fingers on the tabletop.
"I knew it! I bloody knew it! I thought all along you had been behind the search." Leah shook her head softly, long hair shuddering over her shoulders. She entwined her fingers and rested her chin.
"Believe me, my involvement was simply peripheral. Besides, you of all people are aware I'm not the only one who considers you a weed in the garden." A cocky smirk crossed Andrew's face, but he shrugged humbly nonetheless as he raised an arm to rest on the back of the booth.
"I suppose -- if I'm honest -- I had an inkling that I wasn't exactly considered to be the head boy in our class." Leah picked up her cup and slurped coffee loudly; she found her stomach turning at his ego. She licked her lips and offered bitingly.
"So, are you at least going to do me the courtesy of telling me why you did it?" Andrew's face sat unreadable, however the anxious habit of rubbing his silver ring was not lost on Leah. His pride could have smothered them both. However, he managed to do something he hadn't achieved in nearly a decade; he surprised her. Taking his arm down, his voice floated over, in a tone she had not heard him use in what seemed an eternity.
"Honestly, the offer was simply too good to pass up." His reply was direct and too the point. "Plus things between us were hardly going swimmingly, so I thought I should start planning ahead, you know, like filling up my retirement fund." Leah flinched; Andrew looked up with pain and met her eyes. The moment was brief; before they both inhaled, they were back on guard with steeled expressions.
The waitress made a timid appearance to refill their drinks. Leah was grateful for the interruption. After she vacated, Andrew sighed dramatically and leaned his forearms on the table, "Well, seeing as I'm now a marked man I suppose I should count my blessings that you agreed to meet -- once more for old times sake." He looked around the diner. "I suppose it's too late to roll back the clock?"
"Just a little." Leah agreed sarcastically with a sip of coffee. Andrew's eyes hardened; he hadn't expected a fight.
"So, does the condemned man get a last request?" Unabashedly, Leah's harsh laugh ripped into the air.
"What? Let me guess, you want me to call them off?"
"Bingo!" He relaxed confidently and sucked down soda. She shook her head, incredulous, holding her coffee above the table.
"That's not going to happen." He acted as if he'd expected her answer.
"C'mon, Leah. I know you've got more power over there than even you will admit. Pull some strings and get this whole thing dropped."
"You've got to be kidding me, Andrew."
"We both know you would be miserable with me dead." The dark humour fell like a stone. The line was a slice through her heart, and an ignition of long-lingering animosity. Immediately Andrew's eyes betrayed his worry that he made a mistake, however brief the thought was. He didn't waiver again, but sat cocky and calm, half a grin threatening the borders of his lips. "Who else would you have to chase around the globe after I'm gone?"
The air hung thick with murderous lust. Leah bored daggers into him, embers burning in her gaze. He held it steadily. She attempted to swallow her rage with a sip of coffee.
"I'm not calling this thing off, Andrew," She hissed tersely in a voice that sounded not her own. "Sleep in the bed you made." The metaphor seemed to amuse him.
"The bed you almost slept in next to me?" Leah rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"You never quit, do you? That card no longer grants you the upper hand, Andrew. In order for that to work, I would have to give a shit."
"And we both know you do."
"Then you've got your head up your ass." Andrew's face darkened, and it was clear the plan in his head had a much different outcome. He leaned forward on the table and lowered his voice.
"I made you what you are, Leah. You almost joined my side, remember? You were ready to drop everything and travel the world, killing with me. You would have done anything for me. I'm sure your employers would be none too pleased to know how close you came to becoming one they would be hunting." Leah scoffed.
"Are you blackmailing me?" When he didn't answer, but remained staring, she laughed again. "My dear Andrew; desperation does not become you."
"You think I won't do it?"
"Not at all; I'm sure you would. The key to blackmail, however, is that you actually have something to leverage against me. Which you don't."
"Oh, so telling that fat, fascist prick of a boss you almost became a contract killer isn't leverage? What, are you fucking Benedict now?" Andrew spat. His remark earned another eye-roll. "You presume, dear, that they don't already know."
"Bullshit." She shrugged flippantly. "Try it and see, then." Andrew fell silent. His jaw clenched in anger. He pushed his index finger on the table like a pointer, as if to validate his words.
"You're a hypocrite, Leah. You were almost there, becoming me, and now you hunt me like you're the mighty hammer of God. You're no different than me. You kill just the same as I do."
"Almost isn't close enough Andrew. And now I spend my life doing what I was meant to: taking down people like you. In the end, we both sleep well at night, and that's really what matters isn't it?" Her tone rang bitter and merciless as she dropped her coffee cup into the saucer loudly.
"So self-righteous, aren't you? Tell me then, why are we talking? Why haven't you pulled your piece and blown me away?" Leah hesitated. A telling shadow flickered over her face. She looked away from his stare and out into the night, watching a cat skirt around a building corner.
"I came here to warn you -- to tell you that it's not too late to turn yourself in." Andrew could see her swallowing hard. "That's the reason I asked to meet you" It was Andrew's turn to laugh out loud. He slumped back in the booth.
"You're a fucking piece of work." Leah recovered quickly, a sarcastic glint in her eyes. They both knew she had the upper hand, despite her not using opportunity to take him out. It was he who was the weaker at this moment; he, the dark stranger able to flip his conscience off like a switch who was now more or less begging for his life, and from someone whose strength he continually misjudged. The thought enraged his entire being; this was not a man accustomed to being below anyone, much less his former student. Andrew slowly began to lose control.
So he attacked the only part of her he could think of as vulnerable.
"It's not my fault you loved me, you know." He suddenly blurted. "It's not my fault you got your heart broken. One cannot deny the very nature of their essence." Leah swallowed laboriously, but scoffed with a dangerous half smirk.
"I don't need a history lesson. And in this instance it's irrelevant. If I wanted to avenge the years you took from me, you'd have been dead long before now." He sneered, a gesture to show his disbelief at such a possibility.
"And yet you will do nothing to stop these others from coming after me. The gun might as well be in your hand."
"No, Andrew. I won't stop them, but I won't help them either. This matter has nothing to do with me. I'm not saving you this time." The finality in her voice startled them both.
"What about your men? I don't exactly have a reputation for throwing tea parties. You wouldn't save them from a fate they will most likely be given for coming after me?" Andrew countered. Leah smirked disgustedly at his arrogance.
"They took the job with full knowledge of its risks. They're grown-ups, they made their own decisions."
"So Saint Leah washes her hands of the entire affair?"
"Now you're getting it." Andrew paused, flustered. He clenched his jaw and looked out the window, watching a truck lumber by in the inky night. Pain and hatred clawed at his mind, and he felt his heart begin to beat faster. He didn't know if he could break her. Andrew turned back to Leah and locked her stare with black eyes. He leaned over the table towards her, painfully slow, like a panther stalking his prey. He said in a voice icy enough to freeze rivers.
"You know I could kill you any time I wanted." Leah didn't blink, didn't waver. But her face softened as she answered him truthfully.
"Probably, yes." Her answer forced Andrew to swallow, to hesitate. He was silent for a long moment.
"You're the only person I've ever known who isn't afraid of that threat from me." His cracked voice betrayed his confusion that rode the reverberations unguarded.
Leah considered, her expression revealing, but without shame, "I suppose that comes from the satisfaction of knowing that even if you kill me, one day, someone else will kill you too." She took a sip of coffee and added, "If they haven't already."
Andrew blinked. He felt the heat of flush rising in his face, heard his leather jacket creak under his weighted breathing. There were secrets in her words for no one else but him; secrets hidden behind semantics. Literal death did not suit the blow she was delivering; she was the messenger for something larger, for an oracle long gone from their world. It simultaneously infuriated him and saddened him to the brink of depression.
Leah watched him, jaw tensed tight and threatening. She gave not an inch. Her cold demeanour was unmistakable and not even the sight of his tear-wrapped eyes could thaw her. Pride at her own strength ran like warm poison through her veins.
Andrew finally dropped her stare. He suppressed a shudder as the realization of hopelessness travelled through him. Like a devil whispering in his ear, he could feel the cold butt of his .357 Magnum pushing into his ribs. His fingers itched at the temptation, but he couldn't force his hand to move as soon as he looked back at Leah's makeup-less face, watching him like the numb little girl waiting to be hit by her father. He swallowed and looked down, resigned. He reached in his other pocket, away from his weapon; he watched Leah tense immediately, unlocking her gun from its holster behind her back with smooth fluidity. He looked into her eyes calmly as he placed a large folded black knife on the table between them. She recognized it as one he'd had for years, but could not recall where he got it. She eyed him questioningly.
Andrew finished the last of his soda with a loud slurp and rose from the booth. Leah still had a hand on her back, ready to draw. She eased it as he zipped up his jacket. He dug into his pockets and fished out some tarnished quarters. He jingled them in his hand and looked down at the knife, and then back to her.
"If you kill me," Andrew said in a dark velvet voice. "Bury the knife with me. But if I kill you first, I'll be taking it back with me." He left the door to her imagination wide open and exited hauntingly with lost remnants of his dignity.
Leah looked down at the blade, and its flowing silver inlay. His eyes seemed to reflect its brilliance from somewhere deep within, as she looked back up to him and nodded. He returned it gently and shuffled off.
She watched his broad shoulders and shiny hair as he stopped at the jukebox and slid the quarters in with a clanking noise. He mashed the old buttons down and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Turning for the door, he gave her one last look from across the diner, then put his head down and disappeared into the concrete night.
Leah picked up the knife and held its contours in her hand. Pink Floyd's *Comfortably Numb* began to float muffled from the jukebox. She couldn't hide her quiet laugh, and couldn't help the weight of sadness that drifted down on her from somewhere far away. It was heavier than the weight of the knife as she dropped it into her coat pocket, knowing full well she may have just sent the Grim Reaper his invitation.
The song was halfway through before she remembered her sandwich. It had already grown cold and hard; but so had her stomach. Her appetite would be gone for some time. She stuffed a ten-dollar bill under her coffee cup and, gripping the thick blade in her jacket pocket, stood from her table. She couldn't see the waitress anywhere as she pushed open the glass doors and heard the tired bell ring above her.
He watched her slip into her car from a dark alley down the street.
She pretended she didn't see him.
\*\*\*\*
Sitting in the business class departure lounge at JFK Airport, Leah found herself tapping her foot nervously. The meeting with Andrew hadn't gone how she'd wanted it too and now she knew that things between them were only going to play out one way.
With one -- or both of them -- dead.
*Did she really expect he'd just turn up and then turn himself in?* Leah thought as she picked up a copy of National Geographic that was lying on the seat next to her, she felt the familiar buzz of her cell phone ringing in her jacket pocket. Sliding it out of the confines of its semi-permanent home, Leah scowled as she saw the name *Benedict* flashing up.
"Even on another continent I can't seem to get away from you." She hissed. "What do you want *boss*?" Even over a crackling cell phone connection her dismissive tone would be clear for him to hear.
"Enough with the pleasantries Bennett," Benedict retorted. "I need you back in Manhattan -- our American colleagues need your unique...skills to resolve a small problem they have."
"Let me guess -- that prick Spencer has managed to screw something up again right?"
"I don't have the details -- however he's waiting for you at the Hilton in Manhattan. I suggest you get there as soon as you can." The line went dead a moment after Benedict has finished speaking. Leah sighed as she dropped the phone back into her jacket pocket. She approached the check in desk and gestured to the company representative sitting behind it.
"I need to re-arrange my flight details..."
\*\*\*\*
"I still don't understand why you need me." It was the third time she'd asked this question and as of yet Leah still hadn't received a satisfactory answer.
There was always something about Elliot Spencer that made Leah feel uneasy around him. Whether it was the half-hearted yet predictably laughable attempts to charm her into his bed, the obscenely expensive suits he had a liking for or the fact that he seemed to have an inverted Midas touch when it came to matters of intelligence, she wasn't sure -- however her only extensive dealings with him had invariably resulted in people ending up dead.
Somehow -- perhaps in spite of his apparent incompetence -- this man was now the East Coast director for the NSA's counter-terrorism operations. After nearly a decade of screwing up operations within the CIA and costing at least a dozen agents their lives -- none of which could be directly connected to Spencer's inept organisation skills -- Leah marvelled at how he had also developed a clearly Teflon-like coating to his career in recent years.
Sitting in the passenger seat of a black Cadillac that was absorbed by the shadows of a small alley in a back street of a particularly run down area of Brooklyn, Leah found herself listening to Elliot's explanation as to what it was they were doing there.
"I need to maintain an air of plausible deniability about what's going on here; specifically as to what's going on in apartment 6C on the third floor of that building across the street." He gestured towards one of the Brownstone buildings opposite them. Compared to many of its companions it was still in serviceable condition, albeit it had seen better days. "We received intelligence that the occupants of the apartment are working on building some liquid explosive devices for some sort of airplane hijacking plot."
"You think it's an Al-Khayal cell up there?" Leah asked. Elliot shrugged his shoulders.
"Either them or some dissident East European group looking to re-ignite the Cold War." He paused for a moment to light a cigarette. "Does it matter which of them it is?"
"Not really." Leah sighed as she grasped the handle of the passenger door. "I just like to have an idea as to what sort of a hornet's nest I might be walking into." Getting out of the car and making her way across the street, she instinctively clung to the shadows between the pools of light created by the streetlights. Trying to shake the malaise she felt from earlier in the evening, Leah subconsciously moved her hand to the holster located on the back of her belt, taking comfort from the butt of the Glock that nestled there.
By the time she had reached the third floor apartment, her sense of unease had grown. The first and second floors had contained the usual sort of human flotsam and jetsam that she had anticipated with this type of run down urban environment; clear indications of local gang affiliations and open evidence of the sale and use of illegal narcotics; yet by the time she had ventured onto the third floor everything felt different.
The atmosphere of the floor was unusually quiet compared to that of the others -- the tone seems hushed, reverent even, almost as if everyone was waiting for the coming storm to erupt with baited breath. Standing at the edge of the door of apartment 6C, Leah braced herself for a moment before realising that the handle had been crudely damaged and the door was actually open.
Carefully pushing the door open and stepping inside the poorly lit room with her pistol pushed out ahead of her, Leah found herself confronted with the sight of two bodies in the centre of the living space. Noting the blood as it pooled out from under them -- courtesy of several large calibre gunshot wounds in each of them -- she heard something at the periphery of her hearing that caused her to turn to her right.
Even before she had consciously registered what was happening a black clad figure lurched out at her from the doorway to the kitchen. A foot kicked out, sending Leah's Glock spiralling away from her and a moment later a small fist struck her in the jaw. Spinning away from the blow as best as possible, Leah tried to focus on her attacker as she felt the blood flow from her lip. The swirling figure -- which Leah realised was unmistakeably female in an all in one black body suit with just green visors covering the eyes -- almost looked like it was dancing as it moved towards her.
A powerful kick struck her in the chest; Leah could feel something inside her chest tear, *possibly muscle or sinew perhaps; maybe a cracked rib* she thought as she ducked beneath another leg arcing through the space her head had just occupied. Dodging the flailing legs and fists of her masked opponent for as long as she could and trying to take up as best a defensive position as she could muster, Leah managed to catch one of her legs for just long enough to allow her to drive her knee into the woman's stomach. Doubled over, Leah then gripped the back of the woman's mask -- the material felt smooth, almost slippery to the touch -- to enable her to hold her head in place as she steadied herself to power her knee into her assailants face.
The sound of bone and plastic breaking was mixed with the muffed cry of pain from the body-suited individual. She reared backwards, just in time to place herself in the perfect position for Leah as she spun around on her heels, kicking her foe in the face. As she slammed up against a mirror adorning the far wall of the cramped apartment, Leah swept in for the kill; driving the stiffened fingers of her right hand into the woman's throat in a beak-like shape, her opponent's bloodied eyes went wide with fear. Her body then slumped to the floor, twitching several times before becoming still.
Leah took a moment to compose herself. After she wiped the blood from her lip she scouted around the apartment. Fifteen nearly fruitless minutes later she found what she was looking for -- a small metal briefcase stashed in the back of a cupboard of cleaning products in the kitchen. Smiling grimly as she made to leave the apartment, she stopped to pick up her pistol before leaving the room and securing the door as best as she could.
\*\*\*\*
The look of surprised on Elliot Spencer's face was timeless as the drivers door of the Cadillac opened and a metal briefcase was dropped onto his lap. His mouth opened and closed like a fish for a minute before Leah got in the other side.
"I don't know about you, but the contents of that case look like the beginnings of a suitcase-sized dirty bomb." She said as she slammed the door behind her. "Minus the nuclear payload of course. Oh, and I wasn't the only person in that apartment who was interested in that."
"What? Who...?"
"No idea." Leah cut Elliot off, pulling down the small mirror on the sun visor to examine the cut on her lip. "But your clean-up crew will find three bodies rather than two in the room that need to be identified." Elliot looked dumb struck.
"I...I don't know what to say..."
"You can start with thank you." Leah replied. "Now, get me back to JFK -- my flight leaves in just over an hour and I want to get drunk in the bar before take off."
\*\*\*\*
76 Burrow Street
Pain flooded through his leg. The sensation of blades piercing his flesh dragged him screaming from his sleep as each one tore through the soft membrane and struck nerve endings with blunt disregard for his own well being. Eyes open and alert, he looked down and saw a small, orange shape gripping his shin.
"Jesus Oliver...you scared the shit out of me." Andrew muttered as he scooped the kitten up in his hands. The small feline creature immediately began to purr as he stroked her. "Come on, you're going back into the kid's room..."
\*\*\*\*
Greece **July**
She had run to Greece. He wasn't surprised; it was a routine she had developed as a coping mechanism after a botched job. Her last mission in Berlin had gone wrong on levels that very few people could comprehend and her first -- her only -- instinct was to run. The bodies of colleagues were still cooling in the morgue by the time she had boarded the first flight out of Germany.
In a strange way though, she always seemed more at home in Europe than anywhere else in the world. Something in her bones was very old, and hadn't yet shed the dusty centuries of her ancestors. It was one of the things her eyes could never hide -- and it was something Andrew was counting on for his plan to work.
For weeks he watched her live a leisurely dream in the cobblestone streets and olive groves of this sun-drenched coastal town. Even though she left the modest villa every day, she didn't do much: Maybe a walk through town, a beer on the beach, the occasional adventurous meal on top of a long-disused Catholic mission. The local bookstore was her only constant routine. Her training served her well. Even on holiday, she instinctively kept her paths hard to trace.
But he waited out the weeks with patience, not too proud to admit he was enjoying himself in this Mediterranean paradise. While not endless, he did have time enough. His opportunity presented itself almost entirely by chance. He figured it was a sign of fate, and so took it. Taking a break from surveillance, he'd ducked into a comfortable little bistro for dinner, one busy enough that his presence would go unnoticed. And just after placing his order, Leah walked through the door with the same idea.
The waiter seated her at a table near the large front window. Andrew was nearer the kitchen, facing the opposite wall, and thankfully under a burnt-out light bulb. He was certain she hadn't seen him. After the waiter took her order, Andrew immediately flagged him over for a refill of water. He sneaked a glance at the waiter's notepad nestled on the tray he carried, to see what Leah had ordered. The waiter refilled the glass and retreated to the kitchen, and Andrew fished a small paper envelope from a pocket up his sleeve. He palmed a white pill the size of a pupil, and when the waiter emerged, again Andrew called him over. He pointed out some random menu item and barraged the man with questions about the ingredients while his other hand silently dropped the pill into the small white teacup.
The teacup and metal pot were served to Leah minutes later. Andrew watched with careful eyes as she smiled and thanked the waiter. For a moment she started, and then leaned to her purse on the floor and scooped out her phone. She read something, put the phone down, and poured her tea.
Leah finished a full cup, and as she refilled, Andrew paid his bill and skirted out into the sinking night.
She went home directly after her meal. From his perch on the roof of the villa next door, Andrew watched her fumble with her keys to get in the front door. There was a flash of light, and she reappeared in his limited view of the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine. Then she gathered up a bundle of fabric and sewing tools and moved upstairs to her bedroom. After opening the glass doors of her balcony to let in the warm summer air, she settled at an old table to repair a few pieces of clothing.
Andrew readjusted his positioning to make sure the chimneys behind him blocked his silhouette. The moon shone full and accusing this summer night, and one glance of his crouched figure in the dark would ruin the entire month's work.
He barely blinked, watching her, waiting for the sedative to take effect. After half an hour, it was obvious Leah was fighting sleep; twice she dropped her sewing to the floor as she nodded off. She fought for another ten minutes before finally pushing the work aside and switching her lamp off. The wine she poured remained untouched as she climbed into bed and all went still.
Andrew waited another half an hour; to be sure she fell absolutely asleep.
Then he dropped from the neighbouring roof and silently slithered his way up to the balcony off Leah's bedroom. In her drug-induced state, she had even left the French doors open for him.
In the dark of her room, he padded his way over to the bed and, holding back his long black hair, he bent over her face. Her breathing came deep and steady, with an occasional snore escaping her open mouth. At this distance, he could smell her sweat laced with the flowery soap she used in the shower. Heat floated off of her, as if she were some fallen, dying star. The familiar sensations drowned him in memories he'd worked hard to bury. Memories that wanted to suck him in like quicksand.
Andrew straightened and watched her quiet face for a moment. Then, and without thinking about it, he pulled the cool sheets up over her still-dressed body. Leah didn't stir.
He began his search in her little office downstairs, but came up empty. She hadn't even unpacked her laptop the entire trip, so he knew that was a waste of time. He searched the kitchen and modestly furnished living room, and found nothing. Then he came back upstairs to try the spare bedroom. She had stored boxes in the closet here that she never came in to open.
It was a long shot, but Andrew began anyway, yanking the first box from the closet and hauling it across the room to a bureau that came to his chest level. He had to know what she knew; how much she had gleaned since their meeting in New York all those months ago; how close she was to discovering the truth. He had the lid off the box when he felt the cold kiss of steel against the bones of his neck.
Were it not for his finely tuned instincts, he would have turned right around to investigate and slashed his own jugular on the blade. Instead, he stiffened but did not jerk, and in another heartbeat a matching blade caressed his windpipe. Any move he made could be fatal, and he hadn't even heard anyone approach.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" A dangerous whisper flowed in his ear like angry poison. So furious was the voice that Andrew did not right away realize it was Leah. His eyes widened as the scent of flowers drifted closer.
"It would seem so," came his knee-jerk reply. He raised his hands slowly and placed them on the bureau, where she could see them.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" She pressed on the front blade with a deadly promise. Andrew didn't answer.
"What the fuck are you doing awake?" He knew instantly that it was the wrong answer. Leah put vengeful pressure on both blades now, and pain screamed down his spine.
"You think I didn't notice you in that restaurant? Like you become less visible in proportion to your fucking ego?" Andrew blanched. He replayed the dinner in his mind. No, she couldn't have! Not once had she even glanced his direction. And then he groaned in realization: the cell phone. It was a distraction. With one hand she pretended to read a text, and with the other, she had dumped the pill. He had fallen for his own scam.
"Well, I did think that, yes. I suppose it was a pet theory at best."
"You son of a -..." It worked. Her anger gave him a sliver-thin window and Andrew took it. In a flash he wrapped a powerful hand around the wrist with the dagger at his throat and twisted hard. At the same time he popped his right elbow back and made contact with Leah's face.
She hollered in pain and twisted to her knees; one knife clattered to the floor, and she swung wildly with the other. Andrew leapt back to avoid the blade. With the toe of his boot he spun the loose knife around and dove for its handle and for Leah. Before she could climb to her feet, he had her pinned on the hardwood floor with a blade dangling over her face.
Her forehead dripped blood from the crack with his elbow, and even with both hands clamped on his thick wrist, she was losing the battle; her arms shook from the effort to keep his hand with the blade away. She gritted her teeth and looked up through his dark hair, at the pain and blackness in his eyes, at the tears barely kept at bay. He met her eyes suddenly, in surprise, and immediately he knew it was a mistake.
Look at her blazing eyes distracted him enough that Leah gained the leverage to free a hand and reach for the blade on her thigh. Andrew screamed as he felt the small, sharp blade bury itself in the meat of his hip. The pain charged through him and he writhed off her, dropping the knife. Leah scurried to her feet and retreated to the other side of the room with her back to the wall and knives at her front.
Andrew pushed upright and examined the wound. The cut was deep, but nothing stitches wouldn't fix. He tried to slow his clamouring heart and painful breathing. Leah, perched like a cat trapped in a corner, eyed him as her breath too came in quick, shallow spurts. Sweat and blood dripped from her face.
"You should have killed me," said Andrew.
"What makes you think I won't?" said Leah. He bent at the waist, hands on his knees, as a nauseating wave of pain shot through his muscles. He shook his head and stood up again.
"You won't -- despite your public protestations; you don't have it in you."
"Fuck you, Andrew. What the fuck are you doing here?" She twisted the knife, and a glint of dim moonlight danced across the room.
"Keeping an eye on you." She straightened again and her eyes blazed, ready for another fight.
"Keeping an eye on me? How dare you!"
"It's strictly self-defence, honey. Don't flatter yourself." Leah's face flared with rage. She took a step forward.
"Watch your mouth, you bastard, or I'll cut that silver tongue out of your face." As sweet oxygen rushed his lungs, Andrew realized he'd get nowhere keeping her anger at a boiling point. Hard as it was, he had to reign his spitfire words in, or this night would end even worse than events were already promising.
"Remember, I told you I would be coming back for my knife."
"You haven't killed me yet; you haven't earned it back." She laughed with caustic tone. "And anyway, it just gave you a kiss hello." Andrew frowned and eyed her right hand; it was his knife. *His* knife soaked in *his* blood. He cursed. "If ever I needed a bad omen..."
"I'm not going to ask you again, Andrew. Tell me what you are doing here."
She wasn't going to let him leave and she had a direct line to contingent agents stationed in this region. She would either kill him or release the hounds on him were he to escape. He'd lost his upper hand. Andrew cursed again and finally dropped the knife he still held. He paced to the window and back again.
"You need to back off -- they know about you, the Russians. If you keep on following me then you and your team are going to get hurt. I'm trying to save your life! That's what I'm doing here, Leah!" Leah eyed him in suspicion, and it melted into a hurt frown as she lowered the knives and straightened. "They know about the red flag that's been raised against me." He looked at her, cocking one eyebrow slightly.
"You think I'm feeding them Intel?" The shock was clear for him to hear in her voice.
"They're getting nervous, Leah. That makes them unpredictable and extremely dangerous. They're liable to shoot first and ask questions later." Something wild lit up in Leah's eyes; almost a wild fear, Andrew thought. Like a mama bear that knows her cubs are playing too close to a rushing river. However her face remained cold.
"So, you think someone has sold you out?" He nodded. "Look, my information on your habits is years old. If you ask me, you're paranoid."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." Andrew added. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"So what would you like me to do now, Andrew?" said Leah with a dramatic shrug. "Just let you waltz out of here with a 'good night, sleep tight'?"
"Pretty much, yeah, that's exactly what I'd like you to do." Leah put her hands on her hips and scowled.
"You know that isn't going to happen."
"Look, you got me, alright? I fucked up. You win this one. I'll leave this town tonight and you'll never see me again." He straightened up. "Just keep away from the Russians." Andrew's chest ached. He watched her there, hunched in the pale moonlight, her long hair amiss from the struggle. The blood from her head had dried and crusted along the edge of her face. She looked like a sad little girl. It was an astute reflection of the night's fates crossing, a dark little tragedy played out for the starry Greek sky. All along he'd known what had really brought him here, to Greece, to her. Every step he took down the cobblestone streets had been a lie. Every note jotted down and bribe paid out to a willing store clerk or beachcomber had been to shade himself from the expanding light of reality that could not be forever ignored.
And what had he done? Where had his gentle lies taken him?
To their collective ruin?
"If only you'd stayed with me..." He lamented to the darkness above her head. "At least our kind stab you in the front." He heard a quiet chuckle from her.
"You never quit, do you? Will I never be absolved of this?"
"I suppose it's not the kind of thing one lives down," said Andrew. "Everyone stinks of some eternal sin."
"You're the only one who can smell mine, and yet I can't seem to escape from you." Andrew looked at Leah now, with that rare shadow in his eyes.
"No, you can't." Leah met his eyes with her own fire. Whatever tears had been threatening were now disappeared, and with speed that again surprised him, she was on her feet with a blade driving into his gut, a hair's breadth from piercing flesh and organ. Andrew gasped, a sharp breath, and stared her in the eyes. He had slipped into striking range without even realizing it.
"I know one certain way to escape you, Andrew." her voice came out again in an angry hiss. Despite himself, his heart galloped in his chest.
"Indeed, the only certain way." His voice wavered.
"You've impeded my life since the day you tossed me aside. Have you no decency? What more would you do to me before you're fully satisfied that my life is in shambles, just like yours?" Still Leah whispered, as if afraid the universe at large would mistake her desperation for prayers. Andrew blinked at her, and pain crossed his face.
"Why can't you leave me be?" Leah pleaded. Suddenly the knife at his gut seemed a small nuisance.
"Is that really what you want, Leah? Not once in all my sudden visits have you ever made move to arrest or kill me. You could have been rid of me dozens of times by now." He lowered his head now, hovering his face over hers. "But you haven't done it. Because you don't really want me to leave you alone."
Leah's face twitched, but she kept her eyes strong on his. He thought he saw her lip quiver.
"Not wanting you around doesn't equate to wanting you dead." Strong words, but her voice trembled. She wanted to mean it, badly.
"I've seen you kill without conscience or pause. Never cold feet."
"You weren't in my head."
"Oh yes, I was." His face drew closer. "You never showed hesitation. And you can't even seriously injure me without losing sleep." Her mouth clenched.
"Keep talking and that may change quickly."
"Come with me, Leah." Leah missed a step, and her eyes widened.
"What did you say?"
"Let's get out of here tonight. The two of us can handle whatever the outside world throws at us. Leave the Department behind and come with me."
"You are fucking insane," she said, and now tears popped from her eyes. "I'm not leaving with you."
"You can never go back, you know that. One photo of this moment right here, and one more of me leaving with all limbs attached, and that rat bastard Benedict will have you ousted. Maybe even thrown in The Glasshouse for good measure. This will not end well unless you come with me."
"I hate you, Andrew. I want nothing to do with you." The knife at his gut was shaking. With doom waiting in the close night, his restraint had dissolved. Andrew wrapped his hands on either side of her face and smashed his lips on hers, kissing her with forceful passion. Leah let loose a muffled yelp and the knife between them fell limp, and it was all she could do to keep from wrapping herself around his body, much less keep from kissing him in return. When he finally released her, her face was stained with tears, her lips swollen and red.
"Come with me," begged Andrew with his dark, teary eyes. "We both know you never stopped loving me. Come back to me."
Leah had stopped trembling, her face dissolved into a mask of wet pain. She flicked her wrist and brought the knife back to attention. "I never loved you."
Pain struck Andrew's face, but he didn't take the bait; not entirely, he assured his racing heart.
"You know something, Leah? You can give yourself airs about your strength and your resilience till kingdom come. You can fall asleep every night dreaming of the day your righteous anger is fully rewarded, and pat yourself on the back for your painful journey. But you will regret one day. You'll regret all the truths you never got to tell, the truths that make your heart scream in pain just keeping the secret. And then you will remember this night, when you had your last chance, and your life will feel meaningless."
Andrew stalked away from her and wandered through the shadows to the nearest window with view of the street. He watched silently, waiting for movement in the darkness to reveal those that hunted him. Leah's armour of anger had returned. She straightened and with dried eyes folded Andrew's pocketknife with the delicate silver-swirl inlays on its handle. She gave no warning before tossing it at him from across the darkened room.
Andrew caught it in his open left palm. He looked to her soulful eyes in their swollen sockets.
"I suppose I can always leave those little truths in my will," she said. "And then I don't have to regret anything." Eyes on the street, Andrew's back stiffened at her words. He felt a bitter, painful acid race down his throat.
"I always believed that if someone didn't have the balls to say something in life, they have no goddamn right to say it in death."
And before she could respond, Andrew dropped out of her window and into the inky summer night. From the dark house, Leah watched and waited until he had cleared her property. By now, he either thought he was terribly clever, or he had realized she was bluffing about the Intel that she had authorised to be leaked. Either way, it was unlikely he would discover the planted tracker in the handle of the knife.
As she sank to the floor, a little truth washed over Leah, and she cried.
\*\*\*\*
76 Burrow Street
The pitter-patter of rain striking the bedroom window was repetitive, monotonous almost. She rolled over in the bed, facing towards the prone form of her husband as her eyes opened slightly. He was nearly motionless for the moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only noticeable sign of life.
A smile drifted across her face as she moulded herself into his body; placing her head on his chest and feeling the soft embrace of sleep slowly claiming her.
\*\*\*\*
**Prague**
December
"Are you sure?" The question made Leah scowl. Had it been anyone other than Alison asking then it would have been met with the contempt it deserved. "I mean it could have been just a random..."
"What? That someone would break into my apartment and do nothing other than leave me a note with a set of GPS co-ordinates that happen to lead us to this run down industrial estate on the eastern arm of the Czech capital?" She spat. "Of course it was Andrew -- who else could it be? Plus the bastard had been rifling through my wardrobe as well."
"I was just asking." Alison said as they waited in the darkness. "Are the others in place?"
"Moore, Connery and Lazenby are waiting for our signal." Leah replied. "The locals have been informed to move in if we get involved in any sort of protracted engagement."
"Funny, that reminds me of my relationship with Eric." Alison mused. "So, how long do we wait here?"
"For as long as we need to." Leah replied, tapping her fingers on the dashboard and staring intently at the run down buildings that were below them.
\*\*\*\*
Everything had gone wrong.
As the sound of bullets whizzed past the metal crate she was crouched behind, Leah inwardly berated herself for allowing things to get out of hand. Shortly after observing Andrew arrive, then watching him being joined by a black SUV full of what were clearly ex-Soviet military types, they had waited until the electronic surveillance equipment had given them enough evidence to proceed. However, neither Leah nor Alison had allowed for the tenacity of the Russians when it came to holding their ground in a firefight.
Moore had been the first to fall; cut down in a hail of automatic small-arms fire when they had entered the building. In the confusion of several thunder-flash grenades going off they had lost track of Andrew and his purchaser -- a rather burly looking man who looked like his best days were well behind him -- as they fled into the disused warehouse. Connery and Lazenby had then both been taken out by what Leah could only surmise had been the explosive blast from a hand grenade. Alison had retaliated by placing several well-aimed shots into the fuel tank of the SUV -- generating a ball of fire and three scorched bodies.
She gripped the pistol in her right hand and pushed off against the impromptu cover, breaking into a run and firing blindly into the air to try and generate a momentary opening to allow her to move across the sparse interior of the warehouse without getting shot. Sliding on her knees for the last ten feet, the sound of bullets sizzling through the air around her, Leah found herself crouching beside the remnants of an old industrial hot water boiler. Her breathing was hard and rapid, mirroring her heartbeat as she tried to focus. Taking a moment to reload her firearm, she glanced around the edge of the metal façade.
Through the haze of the air Leah noticed two figures scurrying away from the fire fight up a set of rickety looking metal stairs to the first floor -- one of them was unmistakeably Andrew whilst the other resembled a former KGB officer she knew by the name of Annenskij who had long been considered a prime mover and shaker within the Russian Mafia. Noticing that the Russian was carrying a steel briefcase in his hands, she realised that the contents was, in all likelihood, the three canisters of CN-20 that Andrew had stolen nearly a year ago. Ducking back down behind the metal construct as several further bullets ricocheted off it, she cursed the fact that she'd failed to apprehend them.
"Evening!" Alison's flippant comment heralded her arrival behind the boiler in a similar manner to Leah. "Turned out nice again, hasn't it!" She said. Leah nodded. "So, I noticed Andrew and his somewhat rotund Russian friend have scampered to the first floor. Do you want to take them or shall I?"
"Like you have to ask." Leah responded grimly.
"Okay, one order of covering fire coming up then!" Alison gleefully said. Poking her head around the boiler for a moment she then opened fire at the two remaining members of the Russian's entourage. Leah took advantage of the opening, running low across the warehouse floor as Alison's repetitive and unnervingly accurate covering fire raked the side of the oversized iron radiator they were hiding behind. Reaching the stairs with a few moments to spare, she began clearing them two at a time, quickly reaching the first floor.
Pausing for a moment as she tried to blot out the sound of the gunfire downstairs, she carefully peeked around the edge the first floor landing and straight into what appeared to be the shell of an office. Advancing through the room and exiting it on to a sheltered corridor, Leah found herself faced with a series of small rooms leading off it at regular intervals. Checking each one as best as she could, she knew it was taking her longer to sweep through the first floor than it should; yet if she failed to do so, she would leave herself open to the possibility of walking right past Andrew or his Russian contact.
By the time she had checked the third room she was already growing impatient. As she turned her back on the room and prepared to check the fourth and final room she heard the unmistakeable sound of two male voices in the middle distance, accompanied by the noise of a door being kicked open. Breaking into a run, Leah scurried along the corridor, eventually finding herself at the flapping door of the building's fire exit. Advancing outside and scrambling up the stairs, she could see two figures making their way across the roof.
*Blam! Blam!*
Her two shots were intended to get their attention -- something they achieved with ease. Both of the figures stopped dead in their tracks as Leah moved towards them.
"Get down on the ground!" She hollered -- hoping they both realised that she held the upper hand at the moment. Gesturing towards the Russian, she added. "Throw the briefcase towards me and..." Before she could finish the sentence, the Russian had dived behind Andrew with alarming speed, knocking him to the floor and discarding the briefcase as he skittered behind a large metal water container -- one of several structures atop of the abandoned warehouse. Prevented from shooting by something inside her she didn't want to acknowledge, Leah ran over to Andrew -- who was now getting back to his feet.
"Slippery little critter isn't he." He said as he found himself looking up into the barrel of Leah's Glock.
"Tell me why I shouldn't put a bullet in your head right now?" She hissed, irritated by his cocky smile.
"Because, right now, our chubby little Russian friend is probably trying to find the emergency ladder down to the ground floor," He replied, climbing to his feet whilst appearing to be oblivious to her threatening posture. Pulling his own pistol -- an antiquated Walther PPK -- free from the holster secreted on his ankle, he continued. "And the pair of us will be in a better position to stop him working together than working alone."
"What? You're flipping sides now?" Leah snorted. "Have you had a sudden attack of conscience or something now you know you've handed three canisters of nerve gas capable of killing everyone in this city to a terrorist?"
"No, just feeling contrary today." Andrew said as he moved towards the metal construct. Poking his head around the corner, he was met by a bullet careening off the metal casing. "Over to the right!" Andrew called out, gesturing for Leah to flank around the opposite side of the rooftop. As she scrambled across the loose screed, she lost her footing. Falling hard and colliding with the rooftop with enough force to knock the wind out of her, Leah felt her Glock slip out of her grip.
The world seemed to slow down for a moment; as she slid across the loose gravel that adorned the rooftop she saw the overweight figure of Annenskij moving out from behind the small cooling tower he was lurking behind. Her mind registered the fact that he was taking aim at her with his Scorpion pistol; her mind was rapidly running through all the outcomes and even in the few brief moments she had left they all came out with the same terminal outcome for her.
The sight of Annenskij's chubby fingers pressing down on the trigger as Leah tried to roll away were the last things to fill her mind before she turned away from him.
*Brakka! Blam! Brakka! Blam! Blam!*
The short bursts of gunfire were unmistakeable -- yet Leah's trained mind identified two distinctly different weapons being discharged. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, waiting for the searing, burning paid of the bullets tearing into her flesh. As the seconds passed, Leah realised that far from the expected pain her body should have felt, she felt nothing. In fact, she also heard nothing. Rolling back over she could see two bodies lying on the ground.
Immediately knowing what had happened she struggled to get to her feet; racing over to the fallen body of Andrew, Leah grabbed his shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Blood poured from the series of neat holes in his chest. Cradling him in her arms, Leah failed to hold back the sudden ball of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Andrew...I...I...why?"
"Ssshh..." He mumbled, blood leaking out from his mouth as he did so. "I couldn't...***Koff! Koff!***...let him...shoot you now...could...I?"
"Just hold on -- I'll get you some help; we'll get you out of..." His hand reached up to her face, stroking her cheek with blood soaked fingers.
"No, no time...besides, it's...better...this way..." Andrew gestured for Leah to lean closer to him as he struggled to impart something to her. His voice was barely a whisper now. "Check...your wardrobe...again..." Leah looked at him with a confused expression on her face. He was smiling at her, his eyes locked with hers for the final time as the life faded away from them.
Behind her she heard the sound of the heavy metal door to the roof being opened. Half expecting to be shot, even as she heard Alison's voice screaming at her as she saw the blood on her jacket, Leah looked up to the heavens as the first few drops of rain fell onto her face, mixing seamlessly with the tears that were flooding from her eyes.
\*\*\*\*
The flight and debriefing seemed like a blur to Leah. The numb sensation continued to seep through her body as Alison drove her home. As the car turned into the cul-de-sac that was home to Leah's apartment building, her friend looked over at her.
"It's funny that those canisters the Russians had were empty." Alison commented as she brought the car to a gentle halt outside her apartment building. Receiving no response from her passenger she prodded once more. "Are you going to be okay tonight?" Alison's question rolled around Leah's head. She nodded in response before opening the door. "I won't ask again, but you know where I am if you need me." Leah's hand moved to the door, pausing for a moment as she began to close it.
"Alison, I know I don't say this often enough but thanks," she said. "Thanks for everything." Leah closed the door of the car and began the suddenly lonely walk to her home. Leaving the apartment in darkness as she moved around it, Leah spent what seemed like eternity in the shower; desperately trying to wash away the events of the last twenty-four hours.
Padding softly to her bedroom Andrew's final words suddenly sprung to mind. Pulling her towel tightly around her body, she began to look through her wardrobe once more. Searching through her clothes, then her shoes, before finally looking at the selection of jackets lined up on the far right side. As she shuffled through them a small white envelope slipped from the pocket of her favourite leather jacket. Kneeling down to pick it up, she could feel that there was something inside.
Tearing the top open Leah found a small metal key inside and what looked like a business card. Lifting the card up to the light filtering in from the window she could see an address scribbled on it along with a series of digits. A moment later she realised the address was that of a bank in the centre of London and the digits were clearly those of a bank account.
A wistful smile drifted across her face as Leah resolved to visit the bank first thing in the morning. With that she discarded her towel and crawled into bed.
**\*\*\*\***
**76 Burrow Street**
**3:31 am**
In an instant, Andrew was sat bolt upright in bed. His heart was racing and his mind awash with colours and images. Feeling the rolling movement of Leah stirring in the bed next to him, Andrew reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a pen and a small notebook.
"...Uhmm, baby, what are you doing?" Leah mumbled as she looked at the alarm clock. "It's after 3 in the morning..." Andrew's voice crackled with electricity.
"I just had *the* strangest dream..." | literotica |
Title: Chapter Two: Preparing for the first game. by KazeOokami
Tags: Athlete, Highschool, No-Yiff, Series, Wolf
First things first! My original plot/story line got put on hold! Second of all! Its 5 AM so please dont blame me for grammer and spelling. I decided to make a come back after a while.
Iku Ze!
---
Looking at the clock the young wolf realized the time. Getting out of bed with a yawn, he rubbed his eyes and sat at his computer desk. Checking his mail his eyes opened wide: his mailbox was full for the first time in a while. He checked the senders, to his dismay most was from the cheerleading team. Deleting those he checked the mail from his room mate.
"Sup perv?" though highly mad at the comment he continued to read.
"I know you saw me last night, look, don't tell anyone. Oh and you should reconsider talking with Anissa. There's a rumor going around about her real name, though I doubt its true. As for you, you are using a fake name too aren't you? Anyways, about the dragon porn. I accidently clicked the wrong thing, and got routed to a porn site. I'm tired, so I'm gonna sleep, later!"
Not beleiving a word he deleted the email, then reading an email from the coach. It was about their first game. They were going up against the Ashen Kougers. Top team in the state. Coach wanted him to prep the team, figuring that it would be no problem for him. Saving the email he read the last one, it was from Anissa. The subject was asking "Whats wrong with you?" opening it with a groan he read the letter:
"Look, we got off on a bad start, I can be bossy, and what was wrong with you anyways? Going off like that without a goodbye?! Not even a wave! The nerve!! Better be at the Central Water Tower by 10 AM tomorow! Or I'm comming to your room!"
Feeling creeped out by the fact she knew where his room was, and how to get in, he checked what time the message was sent: Yesterday. With his hair standing on end he ran to the shower. Around 30 minutes later he got out, drying off, then checked his watch: 9:50. He rushed to get some clothes on. Picking out a black hoody with a cross on the back, and rose vines down the arms, a black V and his lucky necklace, putting on his boxers he slipped on black pants and his black shoes.
Looking in the mirror his eyes had faded to a blackish grey. He loved that ablity, it made him laugh when he freaked people out. Knowing that he was probably the only one able to change the color of his iris. He put his hoody up and walked to the Central Water Tower.
Checking his watch it was 10. Leaning against the tower and closing his eyes he waited for around 30 seconds. Feeling something on his cheek he opened his eyes half way to see the wolfess kissing it. Jumping back he glared at her, she was still in her cheer leading outfit. "...Im not going to yell. Yet I ask the question... What the hell?" He asked, trying to sound calm.
"What I can't kiss my boyfriend?" she talekd smoothly, leaning back against him.
"Tch, whoever he is you better tell him you kissed my cheek."
Giggling she whispered in his ear: "i kissed your cheek"
Giving an irratated look down at the wolfess "Since when am I your boyfriend?"
Grabbing his hand she didn't answer instead walked with him around campus. Feeling chivalrus and tired he didn't bother to slip away, she gave him a tour around campus. Afterwards she took him to the gym, but not the front of the gym, no she led him to the back. It was a secret spot, only a few knew how to get there. Looking at her hold him against the wall he blushed.
Going in for a kiss he pulled away, just in time figuring her lips were 1 cm away from his. He looked at her, confused yet embarassed that he felt her breath against his muzzle. She pouted and then tried again, only to fail and trip. Catching her he smiled "Not yet. Two factors get in the way of you stealing me." By stealing he meant claiming as a mate.
"What?" she asked curiously.
"One...you were to slow..Two..i gotta go to practice.." he smirked and set her up straight before walking to the front entrance.
"Wait!! First you should know my real name!" hearing this Kites ears perked, the rumors were true. Though he put his paws into the pockets of his hoody. "Not yet, wait till you are a succesful theif." She knew what he meant, she blushed and giggled knowing she had a chance.
A few minutes early to practice Kite had dressed in his uniform and then practiced, the team showed up minutes later and joined him. Helping them with their dribbling and shooting, Rot and Kite had also told them about their first opponents. Hearing this the team practiced harder. Feeling the need to better themselves, Kite had suggested a scrimage match. He and Rot against the rest of the team.
Rot agreed, with the teams set, kite figured there would be enough time for 5 games before practice was out. Letting Rot make all the points the first game, the team had only made 20 points, Rot and Kite had made 50. Second match it was both Rot and Kite. with Kites help it was 0 to 90. The third, fourth, and fifth matches were also like this. Tired the team had sat in the bleachers and they had all talked four the last 10 minutes.
The team had wanted to know about Kite, how he was good, where did he come from, how much time he put into practice. Telling his story he told them that he practiced ever since he was able to walk. But something peaked Kites anger when someone had asked about one of Kites shots. Yelling out "FAIL!" he stormed off to the showers.
Wondering what was up the team had went to the showers. Coach was watching, approving of Kite's method on giving others advice and such. Walking out the coach yelled "GAME IS IN 7 HOURS HURRY UP!" | FSE |