by Sarah Hawke
“As far as I know, Sobren returned to the city about a week ago,” Jorem said. “The Brotherhood has been having trouble in Highwind. Apparently the Knights of the Silver Fist have been cracking down on lotus smuggling hard, so he went there to personally manage the organization for a while. Now he’s back to clean house here.”
I arched an eyebrow at him. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning that when the cat is gone, the mice will play. Sobren has plenty of competition inside the family, but none of his siblings or cousins is half as smart or a third as ruthless. He also happens to be the only sorcerer, and he’s never been afraid to flaunt his powers. Even your Senosi sisters have never scared him.”
“Then he is a fool.”
Jorem eyed me for a long moment, his face suddenly unreadable. “What makes you think you’ll have any more luck than the dozens of others who’ve gone after him?”
“Because I have never failed to capture my prey before, and I don’t intend to start now.” I smiled thinly. “I also have you. None of the other Senosi would ever dare reach out to a sorcerer. If the Inquisitrix knew that I had made a deal with you, she would be furious.”
“So why are you willing to take that risk now? I understand that the Brotherhood is powerful, but surely you have plenty of other targets who are every bit as despicable as Sobren.”
“If you have a list of sorcerer friends you want to share with me, I would be more than happy to take it off your hands.”
He snorted contemptuously. “Yeah, I bet you would.”
“I’m not doing this just for glory, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I told him. “You’re right about Sobren—he abuses his sorcerous power, but so do plenty of others. The difference is that his position and influence make him even more dangerous…especially now.”
I paused and debated exactly how much I wanted to tell him. He didn’t need to know the full truth in order to help me.
“He’s a cornered animal,” I said. “As I’m sure you know, the Brotherhood has been slowly losing ground in Vorsalos for years, and with all their recent setbacks in Highwind I suspect he’s getting desperate. Desperate men are unpredictable and dangerous. Desperate sorcerers, on the other hand…who knows what he’s capable of?”
“A great many things,” Jorem murmured.
“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “You have lived in the underworld your whole life, and you understand the tenuous balance here as well as anyone. If Sobren starts a gang war to reclaim his lost territory, it’s difficult to overstate the amount of damage he could inflict.”
Jorem grunted. “That sounds like your problem more than mine.”
“It will be both our problems,” I corrected. “I don’t expect you to care about the Inquisitrix or the Senosi or even Vorsalos, but I know for a fact you care about all the other sorcerers hiding in the warrens or the docks. That’s precisely why you hate the Brotherhood so much. That’s precisely why you turned against them.”
I leaned forward. “I understand how it works. Whenever a child on the docks discovers his abilities, the Brotherhood shows up and offers them ‘protection.’ If they refuse, Sobren turns them over to us; if they accept, they’re indebted to the gang for the rest of their short lives. You’re one of the few people to ever walk away without ending up dead at the bottom of the ocean…though I suppose the night is still young.”
Jorem’s lip twitched. “So now you’re here offering me the same ‘protection’ but in reverse.”
“I’m offering you freedom . There’s a difference.”
“Men like me wouldn’t need that kind of freedom if your insane mistress would just leave us alone. And if she left us alone, the Brotherhood couldn’t leverage it against us.”
“Perhaps not, but then we’d have random sorcerers roaming around the streets burning down buildings and warping minds and Escar knows what else,” I said. “I know what you’re capable of, Jorem. You could literally kill hundreds of people with the flick of your wrist. So could Sobren Lecasi, by all accounts. The only reason he doesn’t is because we’ve driven him into the shadows.”
“If your strategy was actually working, you wouldn’t be here right now,” Jorem replied snidely. “You’ve studied sorcerers; surely you realize how few of us can muster enough power to actually inflict substantial damage. Most of the kids your ‘sisters’ drag to the Castarium can barely conjure a puff of smoke in their palm.”
I could see the rage and bitterness pouring off of him. Most of the other Senosi would have simply laughed in his face, but I didn’t find it very amusing. He wasn’t wrong—the vast majority of sorcerers never learned to develop their powers beyond a few petty parlor tricks. But in a massive coastal city with tens of thousands of people, several hundred would inevitably carry the gift…and of those several hundred, several dozen would inevitably master and abuse it. The Inquisitrix had risen to power precisely because she offered a solution to a genuine problem.
And yet…
You’ve always found the Castarium dungeons disturbing. You’ve always found the methods of your sisters appalling. You’ve allowed yourself to sympathize with your prey, the first and often last mistake of any true huntress. Vorsalos cannot afford such weakness. And the Inquisitrix will not abide it.
I bit down on my lip and glanced away. “This isn’t about the Inquisitrix or the Senosi,” I said as much as myself as to him. “This is about taking down a man who threatens your people as much as mine. You know the old saying—sometimes enemies are often the most effective allies.”
“Whoever said that was an idiot,” Jorem muttered. “Look, I don’t know where Sobren is now, but I have a pretty good guess where he will be tonight.”
I raised my eyebrows and started massaging him again. “I’m listening.”
“His sycophants always throw him a party whenever he returns from a trip. His lieutenants will try to assure him that they were loyal while he was gone, and a bunch of newcomers will try and prove their usefulness to the organization. It’s the same disgusting little horror show every time.”
“Where?”
Jorem shook his head. “You can’t just barge in there. The party will have more guards than the Castarium.”
I leaned forward. “Where?”
He sighed. “Beneath one of the houses on the outskirts of the district. The place is basically an underground harem.”
“A harem?”
“Your mistress killed the bulk slave trade during her crackdown, but there are still plenty of customers in Vorsalos. In some ways, demand is higher now…and the Brotherhood is more than happy to fill the void. They bring in new girls all the time. Islanders, southerners, even the occasional elf.” Jorem’s face soured. “They’re Sobren’s personal favorite.”
I nodded idly. Vorsalos had been a major hub in the northern slave trade following the Winter War twenty years ago. The flood of refugees and widows were easy prey for groups like the Brotherhood, and the coin had made them incredibly powerful. But the Inquisitrix had destroyed most of their infrastructure during her rise to power, and she had personally beheaded so many slavers that the fort south of town had been renamed “Slaver’s End.”
Still, a niche market endured to this day, mostly focusing on young women and girls rather than laborers. A few of my Senosi sisters had actually been rescued from that horrible fate by the Inquisitrix.
“Perhaps that’s our way in,” I mused.
Jorem blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You’ve obviously been to one of these parties before. The guards know you; I’m sure they will let you in again.”
“Did you already forget that I told the Brotherhood to fuck off? I haven’t done any work for them in months.”
“But they didn’t kill you for walking away, which means they still consider you a potential asset. Sobren won’t be the least bit surprised when you come crawling back to him asking for a second chance.”
A shadow fell across the sorcerer’s face, and I could feel the knot
s of tension twisting in his stomach. “Maybe,” he muttered. “But just because I can get in doesn’t mean you can.”
“If the Brotherhood is trying to rekindle the slave trade, I’m sure they’ll be happy to get their hands on a beautiful local girl.” I snickered and crossed my legs. “If you think I’m Sobren’s type, maybe he’ll even want to add me to his harem.”
Jorem grunted. “He does like brunettes.”
“Like all sensible men.”
“But he mostly likes elves. You have the, uh…body …but you don’t have the ears or the eyes.”
“Eyes and ears are easy,” I said, rubbing his testicles more vigorously. “You just need to get me close. Can you do that?”
Jorem swallowed nervously. “Maybe. But I don’t think you appreciate just how powerful Sobren is. You’re no match for him.”
“He’s a sorcerer,” I replied mildly. “He can weave whatever magic he likes.”
“I don’t mean him personally—I mean the goons who will be watching over him. They’re three times your size.”
“Size is irrelevant. Well, most of the time…”
My fingers crawled their way over to his stem. It had been gradually swelling back to life for the better part of a minute now, and the head throbbed in anticipation when my fingers curled around the shaft.
“You don’t understand,” Jorem said between clenched teeth. “They’re not just random street thugs. He hires professionals from all across the Northern Reaches.”
I shrugged. “I’m stronger than any of them…assuming I’m properly fed. If you’re willing to help me with that, anything is possible.” I smiled and leaned down over his waist until my lips were barely an inch from the swollen head. “Do we have a deal?”
He bit down on his lip and hissed a stream of curses. “Fine,” he said eventually. “But you had better hold up your end of the bargain.”
“I will,” I assured him. “Once Sobren is dead, I’ll put you on a ship to Highwind myself. But until then, I suggest we consummate our little alliance. It’s not every a day a Huntress and a sorceress find common ground.”
Jorem shook his head. “You really are the craziest bitch I’ve ever met.”
I smiled as I reached out with my tongue and lathered the tip of his cock. I could feel the Aetheric energy welling up inside him, and my toes curled in anticipation of another feast. But it was the heady scent of his cock that set fire to my quim. I wanted it inside me so badly I almost straddled him right then and there. For now, though, I just needed to give him a taste of things to come…
I gently kissed the swollen tip then slowly sucked it between my lips. Jorem’s arms tugged at his restraints, and the gasp that escaped his lips was so loud, so euphoric , that I was a little surprised he didn’t paint the roof of my mouth right then and there. I took him in deeper and deeper by the second, opening my throat as wide as I could to accommodate his impressive length. He moaned and bucked in rhythm with my movements as I pulled back, lathered the tip, then inhaled him once again.
On impulse, I reached out and unbuckled the strap holding his right arm in place. I was genuinely curious what he would do. Blasting me with magic would have been pointless, but he could have attempted to rip free his other arm or perhaps even reach for one of my weapons. But instead, he did exactly what I hoped: he stretched out, ran his hand through my thick black hair, and held me tightly against him.
“Fuck!” he breathed. “Here it comes!”
My fingernails dug into his flesh when the first jet of his molten seed doused my tonsils. I climaxed even before I extracted the magic; my muscles seized, my quim melted, and my eyes rolled back into my head. Every glorious spurt sent another ripple of delight cascading down my spine.
And then I fed. Once I’d finally collected his entire offering, I pulled away and quickly lifted my head so the liquid could pool in the back of my throat. While my body devoured every spark of magic energy, I reflexively slipped my fingers underneath my belt and plunged them into my sopping quim. I would have fucked anything that moved right now; a dozen orcs could have burst through the door and I would have gladly sheathed their massive green cocks one after another.
“Shit,” Jorem breathed, half in relief and half in amazement. “Did they teach you that trick in Crazy Bitch school?”
My eyes fluttered open just long enough that I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. More and more seed frothed out from the corner of my lips and streamed down to my tits, and my tattoos were blindingly bright. I had no idea if there was a limit to how much the vatari dust in my skin could absorb, but I had to be getting close. Every glutton had her limits.
I desperately wanted to discover mine.
“Some things we have to learn for ourselves,” I said, swallowing every last drop. Even drained of magical energy, his seed was still intoxicating.
Jorem continued shaking his head. “Well…now what? You keep me chained up here until the party?”
“As tempting as that is, I understand that all males eventually need rest,” I said. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
2
Jorem was untied and back out on the streets well before dawn, and I wondered distantly if my Senosi sisters would be more appalled by our temporary alliance or the fact I had released a rogue sorcerer into the wild. He could have easily crawled back into the underworld or tried to flee the city altogether, and there was a nontrivial chance that I’d never see him again. But if this alliance was going to work, I needed to know for a fact that I could depend on him—a man who scurried back into the shadows now would be useless when we finally caught up with Sobren Lecasi.
I sincerely doubted that would happen, though. I had always been a good judge of character, and my Senosi training had further honed my instincts. Jorem was desperate to escape, and he knew that I was his best option in the long run. Smuggling oneself out of a city like Vorsalos wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed, especially without some kind of support. For many people, the city’s walls were essentially a prison.
I have him exactly where I want him.
I returned to the Castarium before daybreak, and after a quick (and vague) report I returned to my chambers. Thankfully, the Senosi weren’t mired in institutional bureaucracy like the army or city guard. We had enormous operational independence, and aside from occasional meetings with the Hand we were free to pursue our quarries however we wished. As long as I dealt with Sobren quickly, I would probably be able to conceal my liaison with Jorem.
I was tired enough to sleep, which was surprising; Senosi didn’t normally require as much rest as other humans, especially when we had just fed. I wasn’t willing to go under just yet, however, given that my quim was still burning. I briefly considered bringing myself off but found one of my sisters instead. Her name was Lasille, and her eighteen year-old body was a taut, sinewy paradise. She tasted every bit as good as I’d imagined, and after a solid hour of tongue lashing and finger fucking we collapsed into a sweaty pile and slept well into the afternoon. We bathed each other shortly after waking, and I made mental note to find her again later. I had been so focused on the Brotherhood these last few months that I hadn’t taken the time to get to know the latest class of recruits.
Once I was alone and mostly sated, I finally started organizing my costume for tonight’s festivities. I had known exactly which dress I would wear the instant Jorem had mentioned Sobren’s “harem,” and after slipping it on I spent several minutes appreciating the way the red silk hugged my curves. It was also scandalously short—no noblewoman in Vorsalos would dare be caught in such a thing—and the matching heels made my long legs seem even longer. Every inch of the fabric screamed “bend me over and fuck me,” which was exactly the message I wanted to convey. The rest was easy.
Elven ears were a simple matter of prosthetics, as were a pair of lenses to color my white sclera. I probably wouldn’t pass for a full-blooded elf, given my all-too-human face and breasts, but half-breeds were nearly as cove
ted in the Northern Reaches. The highborne capital of Nelu’Thalas was a long way from here, after all, and the surviving Avetharri elves of Varellon were half a world away.
Once the lenses and ears were in place, I added just enough makeup to complete the illusion. I took pride in the fact I was every bit as skilled with a crossbow as I was with an eyeshadow brush. Disguises were the hallmark of every assassin, and the Senosi were no different. For every one of us skulking across the rooftops with our crossbows prepped and ready, there were five more embedded in various organizations across the city. Nobles, guild officers, sailors…despite our reputation, we weren’t just mage-slayers. The Inquisitrix relied on us to be her eyes and ears as well as her sword.
“Speaking of swords…” I murmured, striding over to my stash of weapons. Senosi were trained in a wide variety of combat forms, from fencing to archery and everything in between. I personally preferred my crossbows, but this dress didn’t have space for a holster. My tiger claws were out of the question, too. The blades were normally concealed inside my armored gauntlets, but those didn’t exactly match the rest of my ensemble, either. Even my slender throwing knives would probably be visible.
Thankfully, I still had another option. I pulled a pair of long, slender needles from the shelf and used them to tie my raven hair into a bun. To a casual observer, they would look like any other hairpins, albeit longer and more stylish. But the tiny darts inside were coated with a magical venom so potent it could anesthetize a troll. Sobren’s human thugs wouldn’t stand a chance.
I completed the outfit with a gem-studded choker that straddled the line between elegant and kinky. Several of the jewels were charged vatari crystals, which would give me a reliable source of fuel in case of an emergency. Just having them next to my skin was enough to give me goosebumps.
After spending a few more minutes primping myself, I snagged one of the thick cloaks from my armoire, tossed it over my shoulders, and set back off into the city. The streets were crowded enough that blending in wasn’t much of a problem; walking in these flimsy heels, on the other hand, required more of my concentration than I expected. Night had already fallen by the time I reached my destination, and a smile touched my lips when I spotted Jorem loitering near the rendezvous. His clothing was a bit nicer than what he’d been wearing the previous night. The long, gray coat looked good on him.