Gun Mage 2: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  We spent a quiet moment relaxing by the fire, and then the waitress returned with our order. The smell of spearmint and chamomile drifted up from the teapot as she placed it near the edge of the table, but then she placed the pie on the table, and all I could smell was maple and rum and toasted walnut.

  “Wow, that smells good,” I said as I took a big sniff of the pie.

  “Made right here,” the waitress declared with a large smile.

  Once the waitress left, we demolished the pie. It was a sweet, creamy blend of crunchy walnuts, lucious maple syrup, and had just a hint of rum. I let the flavors roll around my tongue, and I realized I had moaned when Sorcha gave me a wink.

  “It is good,” Sorcha agreed as she poured the tea.

  We were down to the last bite when Sorcha froze for a moment and glanced toward the door. I turned around enough to follow her gaze. Another guest had stepped into the dining room, and he looked around for a moment before he ambled to a table near the card game.

  “Do you know him?” I asked as I took in the man’s lanky form and spikey hair. He had a layer of dust, like he’d spent the day on the road, and a heavy five o’clock shadow along his cheeks. He gave off a casual air, but I noticed he watched the room carefully as he took a seat at the table.

  “No,” Sorcha said quietly as she picked up her cup and took a sip. “But I think he’s a mage.”

  “Shit,” I muttered as I turned to look at my companion.

  “I don’t think he’s looking for us,” she added. “I don’t get that sense from him.”

  “He does look like he’s been on the road,” I agreed. “So maybe he hasn’t heard about the search. But how long before he hears from the Magesterium?”

  “Hard to say,” she admitted. “Depends on how often he checks in with them.”

  “Don’t they have some sort of rules about that?” I asked.

  Having only just discovered my own magical abilities, I had no idea what the rules and regulations were for mages. The only thing I was certain about was that the Magesterium kept a tight rein on all mages, and all mages were expected to obey any orders from the Magesterium without question.

  “It depends on the mage and how important you are to the Magesterium,” she explained. “The only time my parents ever talked to someone from the Magesterium was when they turned in their payments.”

  “And can you tell what kind of mage he is?” I asked.

  “An evocation mage of some sort,” she replied. “I don’t think he can do anything large or complicated, so he may not report to the Magesterium that often.”

  “That’s good,” I sighed. “But maybe we should head upstairs anyway.”

  Sorcha nodded, then sighed. She pasted a smile on her face as a shadow fell across our table.

  “I wasn’t expecting to find another mage here tonight,” the newcomer declared as he drew up a chair to our table and sat down.

  “A mage?” Sorcha inquired innocently.

  “I can always tell,” the man said as he tapped the side of his nose.

  “Well, I might have a little magic,” Sorcha admitted.

  “So, where are you two heading?” the man asked as he finally turned to look at me. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

  “Well, Scott,” I replied. “We were just about to head upstairs.”

  “Oh, please stay,” he insisted. “I don’t get many opportunities to talk with fellow mages, and it’s always nice to meet a fellow mage who isn’t in a red robe.”

  “Not a fan of red robes?” I asked.

  “Not really,” he sighed as he turned his gaze back to Sorcha. He leaned in closer to her, effectively blocking my view of the blonde Irishwoman. “But what is your name?”

  “I’m Jenny,” Sorcha replied airily as she tossed out a false name. “And I’m quite tired, so perhaps we can chat tomorrow instead.”

  “Not even a single drink?” the mage pressed. “I just love that accent of yours. Irish, right? I’d love to hear how you ended up out here of all places.”

  “Oh, it’s a very boring story,” Sorcha said as she waved off his question.

  “I can’t imagine anything you do is boring,” Scott insisted.

  “We heard about the Ikea,” I remarked, even though Scott still hadn’t looked my way.

  “Oh, hoping for a mage miracle, were you?” Scott noted as he turned toward me. “Need a little help with the crops this year? Or is it cattle?”

  “Cattle,” I noted.

  “Thought as much,” Scott declared as he looked me over. “You definitely have that trail hand look. Who’s your boss?”

  “What makes you think I have a boss?” I demanded.

  Scott laughed and held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “You just seem a little young,” he remarked. “But hey, I suppose you could be helping old dad out on the ranch. That would explain why such a beautiful young woman would be out here in this podunk town with you. A little family money that probably seems like a fortune to the folks in your little town. Flashed a few silvers at the pretty mage, offered to take her to the sights. So, have you managed to take in any other sights?”

  I’d grown angrier as the man spoke, and I regretted that I’d left the snub nose in the room. I could picture the shot I would take, and the look on Scott’s face just before I fired. But, I reminded myself, we didn’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves, so it was just as well that I didn’t have the snub nose close by.

  “Now, if you really want to have some fun, you need to head into the city,” Scott was saying when I tuned back in. “I happen to be personal friends with Chef Andre. Have you heard of him where you come from?”

  I scowled, but Sorcha nodded.

  “His food really is as divine as they say,” Scott murmured as he leaned toward Sorcha. “We could make a real night of it. Take in a show at the Arena, dinner at Andre’s, then a moonlit stroll along the river.”

  “Sounds fun,” I declared before Sorcha could even open her mouth. “What else is there to do?”

  “Well, for the less… civilized visitors, there are plenty of rough and tumble places where you could enjoy your usual crude fare,” Scott noted.

  “I like the Red Stallion,” I replied.

  “I’m sure you do,” Scott murmured as he grasped Sorcha’s hand and peered into her eyes. “But surely such a fine lady doesn’t spend her time at the Red Stallion?”

  “I’ve always been fond of the cabaret at the Black Cat,” Sorcha replied with a shrug.

  I had no idea what the cabaret at the Black Cat involved, but Scott looked surprised for a moment. I could see the gears in his mind try to slot this new bit of information into his image of Sorcha, and then when he’d found an answer that made sense to him, he smiled and leaned in closer toward the Irishwoman.

  “Now what person took you to a place like the Black Cat?” he purred. “If you want to see a cabaret, you should at least go to the Tower Gardens.”

  “Oh, I found that to be very dull,” Sorcha replied. “Everyone kept their clothes on for the entire show.”

  I snorted so hard I sounded like my horse after a long ride.

  “You obviously haven’t been to the upstairs show,” Scott remarked after a moment.

  “Ta,” Sorcha declared as she reclaimed her hand. “A lot of nonsense to get into that. It’s much easier to go to the Black Cat, and the entertainers are just as good.”

  “Not true,” Scott insisted with a sad shake of his head. “And I’ll even take you to the show just to prove it.”

  “We,” I declared as I emphasized the ‘we’, “aren’t heading into the city. We just left there and now we’re heading home.”

  “Back to some boring small town surrounded by cows and farms?” Scott laughed as he tried to reclaim Sorcha’s hand. “Oh, please, let me show you the real glories of the city before you return to such boredom.”

  “I’ve had my fill of the city,” Sorcha said sharply. “And we do need to return to ou
r… home.”

  Scott shrugged and then glanced toward the table where the card players sat.

  “Well, if I can’t convince you to tour the city with me, perhaps I can convince your friend here to play some cards with me,” Scott oozed as he finally turned his eyes on me. He smiled, but his eyes carried a challenge, and it didn’t take a mind reader to guess that he hoped to humiliate me with a few hands of poker.

  Lucky for me, I’d always been pretty good at poker.

  “I could stand a few hands,” I remarked.

  “I think we should head upstairs,” Sorcha replied as she gave me a warning glance. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Just one or two hands,” Scott suggested.

  “One or two,” I agreed.

  Scott and I stood up slowly at the same time. Our eyes never left each other, though I could feel Sorcha’s frustration at this whole show.

  “It’s a copper to ante,” the heavily bearded dealer declared when Scott and I stomped over to the table.

  There was only one empty chair left, and I managed to slide into it before Scott could plant his rump. Scott gave a tight smile, then pulled up an empty chair from one of the other tables.

  “You don’t need to do this,” Sorcha whispered in my ear when she finally joined us.

  “We could use some money for the road,” I said quietly.

  “We’ll be fine,” she sighed, but she pulled up a chair behind me to watch anyway.

  I let the first two hands go without much effort and lost just a few coppers. Mostly, I used the time to watch the other players in the game. There were six of us now, and I quickly discounted two of the men who looked like traveling salesmen. They were brash and smiling and convinced that their sales skills would lead them to victory. But they both had easy tells, and it was clear that the other two original players had already picked up on those and slowly started to empty the pockets of the salesmen.

  The dealer and the man to his right were regular players, and therefore, harder to get a bead on. But the dealer studied his cards longer when he had a good hand, and the other man, a scruffy fellow with an unlit cigar, winced whenever he was dealt a bad card.

  That just left Scott. He was a careful player, though not conservative, and he made sure to mask his tells. He only looked at his cards when they were dealt, and his wagers were made after he’d studied each player at the table.

  By the fourth hand, I managed to win a small pot with a four of a kind. I’d broken even with that one, and I gave Scott a smirk. Scott smiled back, and I knew I had him then. He was sure the upturned corner of my mouth was a read on my cards, and I guessed the other two regular players at the table had probably had that same thought.

  I lost the next two hands quickly, with a pair of threes and a miserly hand with absolutely nothing. And then I found myself with a straight flush. I managed to look disappointed for a moment, then tossed a silver into the pot. Everyone at the table was convinced I was bluffing, and the pot grew substantially. It was one of the salesmen who finally brought the hand to an end, and I laid out my cards one at a time.

  The dealer gave me an appreciative nod, and the man with the cigar shook his head. Scott snarled and tossed his cards onto the table while I swept the winnings into a pile by my side.

  It was easy to set up a pattern after that. I would lose a few small pots, and let the other players believe they had figured out my tells, then swoop in with a winning hand or an excellent bluff that would win a large pot.

  The salesmen were the first to quit, and both men disappeared upstairs rather than sit and watch the rest of the hands. The scruffy man gave up next, though he stayed in his seat and watched the next few rounds. Those were split between Scott and the dealer, though I still had a sizeable pile by my elbow.

  “That’s more than enough,” Sorcha whispered into my ear. “You don’t need to win everything.”

  “Just one more hand,” I assured her as the dealer shuffled the cards.

  The dealer laid out the hands and I checked my cards. I had a pair of sixes, a pair of jacks, and a two. I tossed the two and picked up another jack. A good hand, but it could still be beat. I didn’t give any signs to my opponents as I looked up and watched their own reactions to their cards.

  The dealer laid his cards down carefully, then tapped his finger on the table as he considered what he’d seen. He reached a decision and tossed in a silver.

  Scott barely even looked at his cards or the dealer. His dark gaze was locked onto me even as he tossed a silver into the pot. I added my own silver, and then another.

  The dealer took a second look at his cards, then met my silver with two of his own. Scott barely glanced at his coins as he added them to the pot. I raised again, and again we went around the table.

  “Hector,” Sorcha whispered when it was back to me.

  “I call,” I declared.

  The dealer nodded and laid out his cards. He had a straight, three to seven, with both clubs and hearts in the mix. Scott grinned and laid out his cards one by one. He placed three kings on the table, and the world seemed to stop for a moment. The next card was a three, and then a five.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, then laid out my cards in one quick motion. It took a moment for the other two players to study my hand, but the dealer chuckled and gave me another nod.

  Scott looked like he was ready to strangle someone for a moment, but he managed to bury his anger before anyone else noticed. He gave me a smile that looked more like a snarl and tapped the table impatiently.

  “We should go up,” Sorcha reminded me.

  “The lady speaks,” I declared as I stood up.

  I swept my winnings into my pouch, then looped my arm through Sorcha’s. I could feel Scott’s furious stare drilling into my back as we walked from the room, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of turning around.

  Neither one of us spoke as we crossed the lobby and started up the stairs. We made it to our room, where I unlocked the door and held it open for Sorcha. She stepped inside and gave me a beautiful smile as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Admit it,” I teased as I stepped into the room and closed the door. “You thought I was going to lose to that cretin.”

  “Not lose,” she corrected. “But I didn’t expect you to win quite so much. Where did you learn to play cards so well?”

  “As Scott was so quick to point out, I’m just a cowhand from a podunk town,” I replied. “There’s not much to do when the cattle are in except play cards. And the old guys will take you for every cent you have if you don’t master the bluff really fast.”

  “My hero,” Sorcha declared dramatically, “the lowly cowhand from some podunk town.”

  “We should celebrate,” I declared as I flopped onto the bed next to her.

  I gave her my best devil-may-care smile, and she laughed.

  “Hordes of mages are searching for us, and you want to celebrate,” she mused.

  “Well, as you once pointed out, we may not be alive tomorrow,” I said.

  “I’m quite certain you were the one who used that line,” she replied smartly.

  I let my hand drift down her back to her butt, then gave it a firm squeeze. She yelped and swatted at my hand, but she laid down next to me and snuggled against my chest.

  “I like the way it feels when we have sex,” I murmured.

  “Do you really?” she sighed. “You’re not just saying that?”

  “It’s amazing,” I quickly assured her. “I like feeling what you’re feeling.”

  Sorcha sat up and peered into my eyes. After a moment, her eyes drifted lower, toward my lips. She considered them for a moment, then slowly started to pull off her clothes.

  I watched the show until my erection started to press painfully against the denim, and then it was Sorcha’s turn to watch the show. I yanked off my shirt and somehow managed to pull off my boots and pants with only a minimal degree of struggle.

  Sorcha laughed as I finally
tossed everything onto the floor and gave me the ‘come here’ signal with her index finger. When I stopped by the edge of the bed and leaned in for a closer look, she pulled me down on top of her, grabbed my lips with her own, and devoured my mouth with one long passionate kiss. Her tongue slid past mine, and the odd sensation of being both next to her and inside of her started to fill my senses again.

  With a moan, she started to rub her pussy against me, and I pushed her thighs wide open. I slipped a finger inside first and found that she was already hot and wet. She moved against my finger as she guided me to her favorite spots. Her heat was so overwhelming, that for a moment, all I could feel was her own intense need and the sheer pleasure she felt as I rubbed against her.

  “You have to take me,” she moaned. “I need you inside me.”

  “I would never want to disappoint you,” I said with a grin, as I pushed the tip of my erection near her pussy.

  She moaned again as she felt the hardness of my penis rub between her legs, and she tried to push herself onto my shaft. I let her ride for a minute, and then I leaned over her, my hands by her slender waist, and drove hard inside her.

  “Sooooo good,” she purred as she grabbed onto my arms.

  It was the most amazing sensation I’d ever felt. I could feel the friction of my penis inside of her, but I could also feel what she felt at the same moment as her muscles clenched and unclenched around my shaft. It was an explosion of sexual energy that sent both of us to the brink.

  “Damn,” I muttered as I felt her pleasure echo through my body. All I knew for sure was that she wanted me to drive deeper and what I needed was to keep pounding into her.

  I could tell when she was close to her climax, so I managed to slow it down for a few moments. She writhed beneath me as she guided me to her favorite spots, and then she gave me one slow, sexy growl.

  I slid in as far as I could and held her against my balls. She whimpered, then I felt her whole body shiver with her sexual high. I was so hard that I managed to hold her on my shaft even as she bucked and the waves of her climax took her.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she groaned when the last wave rippled through her body.

  “If you insist,” I snickered as I held her on my erection.