by Logan Jacobs
“I can’t believe you’re still going,” she laughed as she reached for my balls and started to trace a finger along them. Her touch sent shivers up my spine and I heard her gasp as she felt the same thing.
She pulled me on top of her and I lost myself in another long, wet kiss that tasted of spearmint tea and fresh peaches. It was my turn to explore her mouth this time, and she let me investigate every inch of it. When I finally pulled back to catch my breath, she groaned in disappointment. I started on her neck then, nipping and licking until I felt her body start to quiver again.
I pulled my rod back out for a moment, a sensation that left both of us crying out at the sudden loss and separation. She latched onto my arms again and pulled me toward her. I could smell her wet sex then, and it nearly drove me wild. I plunged into her, moving my shaft in and out until the friction had her on edge again.
“Hex!” she cried out as I plowed in deeper than before.
I felt the moment when her whole body seemed to explode around my penis, and I finally reached a mind-numbing release. My seed poured into her as she held me tight against her torso and dug her nails into my back. I’d have scratches there in the morning, but I didn’t care.
When I finished, I rolled over to the side and pulled her against me. Her emerald eyes glittered beneath her golden lashes, and she sighed in contentment as she ran a finger over my lips.
“Much nicer than Frenchie’s,” I murmured.
“So true,” she laughed gently. “And more comfortable than the Kwik Copy King.”
“I do miss those purple shirts, though,” I replied.
“You do not,” she said with a slight shake of the head.
My hand moved along her back, and I felt the same motion along my own back. It was so strange, yet it felt so right. I slowly explored the rest of her body with my fingers and gasped whenever I found one of her erogenous points. Having that same feeling on my own body at the same moment only magnified the effect, and we were soon writhing against each other once more.
We spent most of the night like that, exploring and enjoying each other’s bodies. Despite the fact that we both desperately needed sleep, our sex together felt too right to just stop. It was well into the morning hours before we finally curled together and fell asleep, and even then, I could still feel her heart beating with mine.
But things never stayed calm for long when you’re a gun mage.
I woke up with a start, then glanced around the room as I tried to figure out why I had woken up. A quick glance out the tiny window showed that it was still dark outside, though I could hear the early morning birds that signalled the approach of dawn. The only other sound was Sorcha’s breathing, which remained steady despite my sudden jolt.
I hunted around for my clothes and managed to get myself dressed in the dark. I nudged Sorcha awake, then pointed to her own clothes, which I had placed on the end of the bed. While she got dressed, I gathered up our bags. I found the snub nose and pulled it from the satchel which set off the alarm bells in my head again, even as I tucked it into my waistband.
Sorcha started to say something, and that’s when we both heard it: a stealthy footstep outside our door. Someone had been standing outside our room for at least the time it took us to get dressed, and now that person was trying to creep away.
We tiptoed to the door, and I opened it very slowly. I made sure no one else was standing there, then stuck my head out into the hallway. The only person I saw was Scott as he slunk along the darkened hallway.
I stepped into the hallway as quietly as I could, then snuck up behind him. He didn’t realize I was there until I was only a couple of feet away.
“You’re up early,” I commented as he whirled around.
He had an object in his hand, which he tried to hide when he saw me. But I’d already recognized the little box, and I knew he’d been talking to someone.
“Never really got any sleep,” Scott replied. “Stayed up most of the night, but then, that’s what I usually do. I’m just heading to bed myself. Why are you up so early?”
“Well, you know, being a cowhand and all, I’m always up early,” I noted as calmly as I could, even though I really wanted to shoot the guy. But it would be better if we left without waking up half the neighborhood, and the sound of the snub nose would jolt everyone from their beds.
“Sure,” Scott agreed. “So are you two leaving soon?”
“Soon,” I agreed. “What about you?”
“Later,” he said. “After I get some sleep.”
“And talk to the red robes,” I suggested.
“What are you talking about?” Scott protested with an innocent air.
“That box you have behind your back,” I replied. “Only the Magesterium uses those.”
“This?” Scott asked as he produced the glowing box. “I just use this to keep in touch with some old friends.”
“What did you tell them?” I pressed. “Did you tell them we stole from you or that we cheated you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scott huffed.
“You couldn’t stand losing to me, either at Poker or with… Jenny,” I growled as I suddenly remembered the fake name Sorcha had used, “so now you’re going to have us arrested.”
“You’re nothing but a bumpkin,” Scott snapped as he held his ground. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but I do know the smell of someone on the run, and you reek of it. Both of you. I’m just doing my duty by reporting you.”
“We should go,” Sorcha said urgently.
I hadn’t even heard her approach, but she tugged on my sleeve and tried to pull me away from the other mage.
“Let’s go,” I finally growled as I backed away from Scott.
“I want my money back,” Scott declared as he started to follow me. “If you give me my money, you can go ahead and leave. But if you try to keep it, I’ll keep you here until the mages arrive.”
I ignored him and started down the staircase. I was at the halfway point when I felt something wrap around my legs. I nearly fell the rest of the way down the stairs, and only a quick grab for the railing saved me. I saw Sorcha stumble and grab the railing as well.
“Give. Me. My. Money,” Scott intoned slowly as he started down the stairs after us.
I looked down and saw a heavy fog swirling around our ankles. I should have been able to move, but it felt as thick as concrete. Even lifting my foot was nearly impossible. I glanced at Sorcha, then watched Scott as he stopped in front of me.
“I didn’t cheat,” I hissed at him. “And I’m not giving you anything. Well, that’s not quite true. I do have one thing for you.”
I pulled the snub nose and pointed it at Scott’s chest. He looked leery, but I don’t think he realized what it was, at least not right away. I saw recognition start to dawn as the hammer clicked into place, and then I pulled the trigger back.
The thunderous clap echoed throughout the hotel and the burnt charcoal smell filled the stairwell. There was a wonderful moment, where I could feel the power of the gun strum along my nerves, and then the comforting weight of the snub nose was gone, and the only proof I had that the gun had even existed was sprawled across the steps in front of me.
So much for leaving quietly.
Scott’s chest was a gooey mess of blood, bone and tissue. It looked caved in, like somebody had taken a hammer and flattened out the lungs. There was splatter along the wall and trailing down the stairs. Something that looked like a piece from a lung laid in a bloody pool near the head.
“Quick, before anyone else gets here,” Sorcha pleaded as she tried to step around the body.
With Scott dead, the fog had disappeared. I knocked the body out of the way, then sprinted down the stairs with Sorcha. We were halfway across the lobby before I heard the first voices demanding to know what the noise had been. I grabbed at the door, only to find that it was still locked for the night.
I spotted the key on a ring by the door and jammed it home. I
nearly bent the key in half in my need to escape, and I had to steady myself with a deep breath before I could turn the lock.
Sorcha grabbed the doorknob as soon as she heard the click and yanked the door open. She stepped into a misty gray morning that gave her a soft glow.
“Are you coming?” she asked when she caught me staring at her.
“Yes, indeed,” I replied as I stepped outside. I still had the key, and I locked the door behind us. It wouldn’t buy us much time, but every second counted when dealing with the Magesterium.
Chapter 3
Despite the early hour, there were already people on the road. Some looked like farmers and other workers about to start their days, and the rest looked like people who had probably been out all night and were trying to get home before the sun was completely over the horizon. It wasn’t just the humans who were sorting themselves out either. Nighttime denizens scurried toward their holes while the early birds began to chatter more loudly.
No one really paid any attention to us as we hiked along the road, and we made it fairly far before we saw the first sign of an official presence. A pair of officers were in the process of setting up a roadblock. The complaints could already be heard, along with demands to know what they were looking for.
Sorcha and I ducked into a group of stores by the side of the road and found a coffee shop that had just opened. We joined the line while we kept an eye on the officers, but as we moved forward, we saw the policemen start to let people through after they had checked either the guest registration ticket or an identification tag that the locals seemed to carry.
“They’re looking for guest tickets,” I pointed out quietly. “They’re not even bothering to look at faces.”
“Maybe we should find some new identities, then,” she whispered.
I scanned the other people in the coffee shop as we neared the front of the line. There were only a few women out this early, and the few who were around looked like performers from the first inn we’d passed up. There were plenty of men to choose from, but the real question was whether we could get their passes.
“Any good options?” I asked.
“I need to find the right people,” she murmured as she studied the other customers. “Order me a tea if they have any.”
She stepped away from me and started to move slowly among the other customers. She finally stopped near an older woman in a bright orange dress with random stripes. The older woman looked as if she were about to fall asleep on her feet, and she blinked owlishly at Sorcha when the mage said something to her.
I was at the front of the line then, and I ordered the largest cup of coffee they sold and a cup of tea. While I waited, I glanced around again. Sorcha had moved on from the tired woman and stopped near a pair of men who sipped their coffee while they watched a group of women walk along the street.
“This is the only tea we have,” the clerk announced as she placed two cups on the counter.
The coffee smelled strong and delicious, but the tea looked weak and smelled vaguely of cut weeds. I plunked down a couple of coins and walked slowly toward Sorcha, who had found a spot under a massive oak tree.
“Afraid this is the only tea they have,” I said as I handed her the cup.
“I’m not sure it really qualifies as tea,” she remarked as she took a sniff. “But I guess it will have to do.”
“Do we have some new names?” I asked.
“We are now Donald Spencer and Emma Grace,” she murmured as she handed me the pass.
“Should we walk through together, or separately?” I mused. “They’re definitely more interested in couples.”
“I say we try separate,” she replied. “So far, they’re only looking at the passes. They don’t seem to have pictures of us or a description.”
“Then let’s slip through before those arrive,” I suggested.
We finished our beverages quickly, then joined the queue at the roadblock. Unlike the sheriff’s deputies at the Brook Island Bridge, the officers on the seventy-eight kept things moving quickly. They checked each ticket, then waved the person through when they didn’t find the guest passes they wanted.
Sorcha made it through first and moved further along the road without looking back. She was nearly out of sight by the time I was waved through.
I had to fight the urge to push through the other people and run down the road after her. I kept my pace under control, though I still managed to move quickly. I wasn’t the only one. Most of the people were trying to hustle along as well as they tried to make up for the time they lost at the roadblock.
I found Sorcha standing by a dog cart and talking to the driver, a man in his thirties with a large floppy hat and a bright red sweater. I slowed as I approached, but she waved me over.
“This is Jeremy,” she said as she introduced the man.
Jeremy had dark brown skin and black hair that fell down to his shoulders. He gave me a nod and tapped the rim of his hat. I noticed then that he was missing the middle finger on his right hand.
“Jeremy was just telling me that they were setting up roadblocks further along,” Sorcha added.
“Said they were looking for people using stolen guest passes,” Jeremy explained. “But I saw a bird come in, so they may have more information.”
“Do you know what this is about?” I asked.
“Someone was killed,” Jeremy said with a shrug. “That’s what I managed to get out of one of the officers.”
“Seems like a lot for a murder,” I mused.
“I think there’s a mage involved,” Jeremy added, “but I don’t know if that’s the victim or the killer.”
“Guess we need to be on the lookout for a black mage,” I murmured, though I had no idea how you could tell if someone was a black mage. Benny and June had certainly fooled us when we’d met them on the canal, and those blood mages had been some of the most normal seeming people we’d met.
“Where’s the next roadblock?” Sorcha asked.
“About a mile or so further on,” Jeremy replied.
I pulled out the book of New Jersey maps and found the section that covered the airport and surrounding areas. I studied the map for a moment, then handed it to Jeremy.
“Is there a way for us to get here?” I said as I pointed to a road labeled Morris Avenue. It was south of the road we were currently on, but it met up with seventy-eight further west of us. It also happened to become one-twenty four on the other side of seventy-eight, but since we’d both agreed to avoid the mutant wasteland, there didn’t seem to be any point in asking about that.
Jeremy frowned as he studied the map, and I wasn’t sure he even knew how to use one. But he saw something he recognized, because he lit up and smiled at Sorcha.
“Oh, the University,” he said. “My sister went there. Best place to go if you want to be a teacher.”
“Which university?” Sorcha asked as she tried to look at the map over Jeremy’s shoulder.
“This one,” he said as he pointed to something on the map. “It’s called Kean University on this, but it’s the Kean-Kasey University for Advanced Studies. It’s really easy to find.”
“That’s good,” Sorcha encouraged.
“About a half mile further on you’ll find the old Broad Rail line,” Jeremy added as he pointed westward. “Follow that south. The road you want is called the Old Cut. Can’t miss it. There’s a big gristmill right there, and they’ve still got a train that they sometimes used to move the grain around the site. Don’t worry, though, they don’t use it on the track outside the mill.”
“Thanks, Jeremy,” Sorcha said as she gave him a hug. “And remember, don’t tell anyone you saw us.”
“Not a word,” Jeremy agreed.
He whistled to his dog and the small cart trundled eastward toward the next checkpoint. We watched for a moment, then started toward the west again.
“How come you didn’t use your magic on him?” I asked.
“Didn’t have to,” she replied
. “He loves the idea of keeping secrets from the mages and the police.”
“Still,” I pondered. “He might let something slip.”
“Trust me,” she said with a grin. “He won’t tell them a thing.”
We found the old tracks easily enough less than a mile further along where they crossed seventy-eight. They were rusted and pitted, and sections had even been pulled up for use elsewhere, but it was easy enough to follow what was left of their path. A few saplings had sprung up, and there were plenty of weeds, but otherwise, the track was clear.
The old rail line was a popular north south traverse, it turned out. We passed quite a few people heading in both directions, though it wasn’t nearly as packed as seventy-eight. We made good time, and the sun was still low in the sky when I caught the first whiff of oats and rye.
“The gristmill,” Sorcha surmised as she took a deep breath.
“Agreed,” I said.
A few minutes later, we had our first view of the mill. It was massive, with one large brown brick building that had to be from the pre-magic era, and a second stone and timber building that stretched from the original parking lot all the way to a small river. The whole area smelled like a field of grain on a summer day, and the clank of the great wheels could be heard through the open doors of the unloading bays.
The Old Cut was also hard to miss. Someone had replaced the black surface with stones, but otherwise it looked as wide and well-used as it must have been in the pre-magic days. Carts bearing grain rumbled along the road at a steady pace, and though there were plenty of pedestrians, they stuck to the edges of the road.
“Shall we?” I offered as I held my hand out to Sorcha.
She gave me a smile, and we joined the flow of people that moved along the Old Cut. It was a pleasant walk, for as long as we could follow it. But we reached a fork in the road, and it was easy to see that the Old Cut now followed a new path that curved away to the south. The old Morris Avenue was still there, but it was an overgrown trail of vines, weeds, and ankle-breaking holes.
“Which way?” Sorcha asked as we stepped under the shade of an oak to sip some water.