Defiler

by Cari Silverwood

  And she couldn’t breathe. Dassenze was still inside her and not moving. He looked like he wanted to burn what he saw into his memory. She gulped around his cock, swallowing convulsively, needing air.

  “Almost. There.” Brask grunted, bumping at her, jolting her into the padding, then grinding into her and stopping. “You?”

  “Fuck.” Dassenze pulled himself out and staggered back. She gasped in much-needed air, watching him and wanting him in her mouth again. He had to come inside her.

  “Can’t. Mistake doing this. Any of my cum inside her might trigger bond mating. You...” He set his face then stepped in and grabbed a fistful of her hair, twisting it in a knot before he crouched and kissed her violently. “Fuck her hard. I’ll watch. Don’t close your eyes,” he commanded as he made her arch her neck. “Look at me while he fucks you. I want this, at least, my little bitch.”

  And so Brask did exactly that. He fucked her so hard she gasped at the roughness even as she felt herself overcome. Her eyes rolled up at the last. She was too far gone to obey instructions. The spurt of his cum inside her was blanked out for a few moments as she too came, her pussy spasming down onto him, but even so, she was distantly aware of Dassenze, gripping her, owning her, and keeping her precisely where he wanted her to be.

  When she lay curled on the footrest afterward with both of them standing above, she could only wish in her heart that one day, she would truly belong to both of them.

  They put their hands on her, her back and ass and hair, touching her as they spoke over her head. The sounds of their male voices were soothing.

  “I’m humbled and stupid. My lust overran my logic. Never before has that happened.”

  Dassenze’s words made her smile.

  Soon though, they must go to battle and it was inevitable someone would die.

  *****

  Ally took Rimmil’s arm and pulled his hand to her face. Lying half in his lap on the couch, with him playing with her hair, she could almost go to sleep and she hadn’t had much sleep for days. A man’s hand was so heavy, his fingers so thick, and Rimmil smelled just right. His scent reassured her, as did his strength and that both of them were willing to do anything for the other. It was love in all its many facets, no matter how fast and unexpected this had been.

  She sighed and brought his hand to her mouth and kissed the back of his thumb.

  “You okay, Ally?”

  “Mmm.” She nodded but didn’t let go of his hand; instead she wrapped her arm over his.

  That Dassenze planned to take him away from her soon was unfathomable. She’d only just found him, and here he was going away?

  Was she okay? No. Though she was better in some ways. The headache that seemed to aim to split her head in half was controllable with painkillers and the confusion and panic she suffered from hearing other’s thoughts was almost gone at times. Steve was the one anomaly and he was so honest in even his thoughts that she could stand him quite close. She was getting better, tolerating people. If only everything else wasn’t getting worse.

  Chapter 22

  Abandon. The word Brask had used. It echoed in his head as he led his men away from the bank building and the women who hid inside it, to the entrance he’d found that led down into the factory queen. From specifications in the past, she could be any size inside – from a few Earth warehouses in volume up to many times that. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was the size of a small suburb after decades underground. Though, in all practicality, that would make it difficult for her to emerge from her nest.

  He imagined her rearing up, shaking off small hills of dirt, with houses sliding from her body as she stalked about on her multitude of segmented legs destroying this city. Metal and mind, the factory queens were the ultimate of all cybernetic and biological organisms. He doubted even the Bak-lal knew from whence they came.

  He had four unmated Igrakks as well as Stom, the one Feya warrior, plus Rimmil and Jadd. Eight males to kill one factory queen and she had hundreds, perhaps thousands of soldiers. The clone soldiers and other Bak-lal witches roamed the streets of Adelaide, yet none had come anywhere near the bank building except for that one troll. He’d counted so many.

  The coincidence was too much. She was luring them in while keeping her soldiers away. She meant them to enter her body and be trapped.

  Saying goodbye to Talia and Brask had been difficult. Talia... He’d kissed the top of her head then wanted to hang onto her forever. Not a good look for an Ascend. In all his long life, he’d never been as close emotionally to anyone as he was to them. They had become, in the subtle yet irresistible way of this bondmating, his everything. Had he rigged this so they might survive? Yes – it was a guilty, yes.

  Yet someone had to try, had to sacrifice themselves. If allowed to spread her new skills, this insane factory queen was likely to bring down the universe.

  He ran onward, the warriors flanking him or in single file when they went down alleys. The truck was for the women, Steve, and Brask to escape in, if possible. They couldn’t take it down her tunnel and, if they drove it there, what advantage was there? Very little. It was clear she waited for them. At a mile’s distance from her tunnel opening, he slowed, halted, and faced his men, waiting for them to concentrate before he spoke.

  “Where we are going, there may be no return. I cannot guarantee victory. We are few against many and we enter the factory queen at a place she has determined. I will not lie to you. If you wish to make your peace with this world, do so now. Record your last words to loved ones. If you wish my blessing, come to me, kneel, and I will give it.

  “But know this, we will take our vengeance to this creature and we will wreak havoc upon all who oppose us.” Then he gave the words of all warriors on their day of reckoning.

  “Imbar dahar fren dorl!”

  They bellowed them in reply. “Imbar dahar fren dorl!”

  Today, our enemies swallow death.

  And so, that was that. The queen awaited them and they would greet her with their guns and their fists and their teeth if need be. They would kill her or be killed.

  *****

  Watching the door be sealed from the outside while she stayed inside with Brask and the others, and while Willow was locked out...terrible. Talia shut her eyes to summon some remnant of calm. The poor girl. Her poor man, Stom. Dassenze had been as shaken as she was, while Brask had for once out-stony-faced the Ascend.

  They had one soft yellow, alien light strung from a ceiling fixture. The light would last for days, apparently. The long table in the center had Ally, Brittany, and Steve seated around it. All were miserable and Ally had her head in her hands. There seemed nothing anyone could do to alleviate her headaches. The nerve chewer was inside Ally’s head and, wow, she’d been stunned when Dassenze had told her and Brask. The dangers were both inside and outside this vault.

  Run. Drive away if communications go dark, Dassenze had told them. Brask had nodded grimly.

  She had to remind herself that everyone in this vault was suffering. They stood to lose their bond mates, their friends, their soldier brothers, as Brask called his friends, and their cousins even, in Ally’s case. Willow must be vulnerable out there on her own. Stom had been ready to cut out his heart in exchange for Dassenze letting her into the vault. He’d given up but she’d never forget the look on his face and he couldn’t even hug or kiss Willow goodbye.

  How could Dassenze dismiss her and the other witches as useless? She clawed her fingernails into her palms then leaned against the inside of the vault door. Brask looked angry now that Dassenze was gone. This must eat at the very core of all he’d been taught in the military.

  He came over and rested against the wall beside her then whispered gruffly, “This is such a load of kak.”

  “I know,” she whispered back, leaning so that her head nestled into his shoulder. “Have you heard from Dassenze?”

  “He’s sending me regular info.” Brask tapped his temple.

  “Okay.” She didn’
t dare ask him to say if things went wrong.

  The scratching was soft at first and she wasn’t sure, but Brask stiffened. Then it came again and she heard a voice.

  Ally snapped upright, pushed back her chair and ran to them, putting her ear against the vault door. “It’s Willow. Willow! What is it?”

  The voice that came through didn’t quite sound like a woman. Distorted, rough, it made a shiver run down Talia’s spine.

  “Hel-lo? Ally? Come out. There’s something...”

  Ally stared at Talia but spoke to Willow, or whoever was on the other side. “What?”

  “Please. Come out.”

  “No.” Brask’s face was stone. “Absolutely no.”

  For a minute Ally blinked and listened. Then she nodded. “I think this is really her. I can feel her truth, her need. It’s her. Where did I keep my teddy bear in my room, Willow?”

  After a few seconds the rasping reply came: “On your pillow. Except when you were sad. Then you hugged him.”

  Oh fuck. That sounded so human, but was it?

  “Him. She even said him. Teddy was a he.” Ally stood straight as a pole and rapped out her next words as if she was chiseling them into granite. “My mind is what makes me a witch. I can feel thoughts as well as emotions. This is Willow and she knows something important. Open the door.”

  Brask only stared back for a count of five seconds then he unslung his alien rifle. “How sure are you?”

  “One hundred percent. Totally. I’m that sure.”

  “If you’re wrong we might all die.” He indicated the others with a jerk of his head.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay. Okay. Here’s what we will do. You can open it. Talia and I will cover the door. When we’re in place. Go.” He backed away, still aiming his weapon at where the door would first crack open and Talia joined him, unsheathing her sword. Steve and Brittany had positioned themselves against the far wall that was tier upon tier of locked boxes.

  Once unlocked, the huge circular door opened slowly, silently, swinging on million dollar hinges, she imagined. But what would they see? A few rays of the afternoon sun lanced through a propped-open door at the other end of the corridor. In the final arc of the opening door, a dark shape was revealed.

  Her wings were tucked behind her. Ashes rose and embers wafted away, sticking to the walls and lighting them up like a cave of fireflies. Brask switched on a light on his armor that bathed her and the corridor in white.

  “Can I come out, Willow? Is it safe?” Ally asked.

  She nodded, gestured to them to follow then turned and walked up the corridor, away from them, her bare feet padding on the tiled floor.

  “Can I?” Ally raised an eyebrow at Brask.

  His chest rose and fell. “Yes. We go. Us three. Lock the door behind us.”

  But Brittany and Steve looked at each other. “No?” Brittany asked Steve.

  “No. We’re coming too. What the hell are we going to do if she eats you lot? Huh? Stay in here and wait to be seconds in a few days when we come out? Nah. Let’s get this done. Besides.” Steve smiled at Ally. “I believe in you.”

  She smiled weakly back. “Thanks. Come on. I need to find some painkillers anyway. Forgot to bring any.”

  Talia held Brask back for a second. “Do you think Ally’s doing better? She seems more coherent.”

  “Maybe. Come on.”

  Dassenze would skin them alive for risking this. Fuck him. He’d lost faith in her and the others. Maybe they could do something. Only, where was Willow leading them?

  Truthfully, when she stepped up to the busted window on the second story where Willow had halted, she half expected to find demonic minions on the other side.

  “Wow,” Ally murmured. “That looks like a big hint.”

  “Or a big trap,” Brask added.

  “Both.” What else could this newly created hole in the ground be except a trap? “The factory queen is inviting us in.”

  “Yes.”

  Fuck. That growl. That was Willow.

  “She is.” Such a deep voice for a girl, even a naked one with a dark matter parasite merging into her bones.

  “What should we do, Willow?” Ally asked, staring down at the hole in the small park across the road.

  “Go in. It’s calling me.”

  “Uh huh. Me too.” Looking very determined, small, and innocent, Ally turned and held out her hands, palm up. “Coming? My head says this is where we should be, trap or no trap.”

  “Your head?” She sheathed the sword, seeing that Willow wasn’t partial to eating them, yet.

  “Is your head that smart?” Brask tapped his forefinger on the side of his weapon. “Dassenze would do such things to me if I let you go and this isn’t going to save the universe and suchlike.”

  She nodded vigorously. “It is. My mind is my only strength. I trust it. Besides, I’m going, even if you’re not.”

  “May the Ascend forgive my sins. A little girl commanding me?” Brask reslung his rifle then popped a switch that made a transparent helmet materialize and curve over his blond spikes, sealing his armor suit at the neck with a small hiss. He flexed his injured leg and his next words came to them via an external speaker “I guess we’re going then. Lead on.”

  “Wait.” Talia held up a finger. “Give me a second to pull on tights instead.”

  The Igrakk ones were a darn sight tougher than her bare skin. Brask had told her they were made of something akin to Kevlar. She had a feeling she’d be needing tough and flexible.

  “She’s getting changed?” Steve asked as she jogged away.

  “Yup.” Brask grunted. “Practical. I guess.”

  As they clattered down the stairs to the lower story, she questioned Brask, “Telling Dassenze all of this?” Talia asked him,

  “Have already.”

  “And?”

  “I’m apparently going to be roasted over a fire pit on the planet Dacreen when he next sees me.”

  She snorted. “Bad?”

  “I’ve had worse.”

  Which was how they ended up at the entrance to the factory queen’s nest, raw dirt underfoot but a pristine and clean set of stairs leading down, twenty feet down, to a well-lit tunnel.

  “As you humans say...” Brask had his rifle in hand again and he pointed with it. “This is where the crap hits the circling electrical device.”

  “Fan,” Talia muttered.

  “Yes. I’ll take point, you’re second.”

  “With that metal in your leg?”

  “I’m fine. You can kiss it better later.”

  Her glare might as well have been glitter spray.

  He looked past her. “Steve can be last. Got that gun ready, Steve?”

  “Yup.” He waved the alien weapon Dassenze had left him. “If anything bad appears, I’ll vaporize them with this.”

  “Uh, yeah. Doesn’t vaporize. It fires a thousand mini rounds that turns the target into cheese.”

  This time Talia couldn’t help laughing silently. Swiss cheese, she sincerely hoped.

  At least it made the climb down a little more amusing than it might otherwise have been. Somewhere below was the baddest thing in creation and it knew they were coming.

  When they hit the floor at the bottom, the Bak-lal swarmed in – teeth showing, eyes wide, growling, the common mindless sort. When their legs were shot from under them, they crawled. Mindless helped but there were so many.

  “She’d herding us!” Ally said at some point above the firing of the weapons, the screams, and the sounds of the katana meeting flesh and bone. Blood...there was no shortage of it. They had to pull Steve into the middle and let Talia be rearguard despite Brask’s miserable and gutted expression.

  “Go!” he yelled. “Need you back there.”

  So she’d gone. She’d dragged Steve into the middle and they’d fought as they ran.

  Now, they were here, the middle of nowhere in the middle of her, the factory queen. Likely exactly where she wanted
them and the skitter of tiny feet was loud in Talia’s mind. There were roaches coming. Nerve chewers.

  They’d slammed the doors at either end of this long, steel-table decorated room. It was an assembly line of some sort.

  “She makes people here,” Ally whispered. “Makes her soldiers. Now she means to make us into them.”

  “You can hear her?” she asked.

  “I can hear her.”

  The pounding began on the doors, then they spilled open and the roaches poured in, flooding across the floor.

  “Form a circle!” Brask ordered.

  “And pray,” Talia added. She was lightning. She was storm. She was the blade wielder.

  As the first wave hit, she leaped high, and struck. The room rocked and roaches died in a ripple of blue flame, but there were hundreds more.

  Fighting them took every ounce of their concentration, though Willow came into her own. She could stomp out ten in the blink of an eye, as good as Brask could if he kept his armor nimble.

  When they’d cleared the room, they found out they couldn’t leave. They were boxed in front door and back. Every half hour there’d be some renewed attack, no matter how well they barricaded the door. The floor grew slick with blood and pieces of roaches. The doors grew dents and the locks unusable. Piling up machines and tables created a makeshift barricade.

  In a lull, she rested beside Brask as he reloaded. She’d lost count of how many times Brittany had healed him and still he limped. “Ammo? Will you have enough?”

  He shook his head as he slotted in another magazine of whatever it was his rifle used. Little orange slivers from the looks of them. “I have plenty, but how long is a piece of string?”

  Like that, hey. How long before they could get out of here was another excellent question.

  “My worry...” he said, letting the back of his head bump the carton they sat against, “Is more that I will lose power on my armor. We get a day’s usage, about. It’s been four hours. I’ll have to take it off once it runs down.”

  The armor gave them an advantage. The roaches couldn’t get through it.