I was confused for a moment, until his left hand moved like a viper. I twisted to the side and evaded a stab in my side easily enough, I was much faster than he was, but the glowing dagger went through my physical protection shields like they weren’t there, and into my arm instead of my torso.
He gurgled with laughter, and I screamed as foul powerful magic invaded my body. In a panic, I tried to twist my sword and finish him, but I couldn’t move a muscle in my body, and felt the magic restrain me in some way I didn’t understand. My magic surged and fought against it, like a butterfly trying to batter its way out of a steel cage. Every time I hit it, it got stronger, and as the pain ran through me, I realized my own power was making it stronger, strong enough to imprison me, and my soul.
I should have taken his head immediately, but I’d wanted to watch his eyes as the evil fucking bastard died, which in hindsight was a big mistake. In fact, he did it on purpose, I’d fallen right into his trap because I’d let him anger me, because of my righteous rage I was caught in a trap, helpless. I could see it on his face as he backed up off my sword, fell to his knees, and healed himself in a split second.
I knew anger made me vulnerable, but I’d thought I had everything covered. Stupid.
Shit. I was so screwed.
The pain got so bad I blacked out.
Chapter Fourteen – Jason
The rest of my stay in Chicago was a week of hell, but also a great time.
The hell part was all about my daily training, the second day we went for ten hours, and stuck to a six to four schedule from hell for the rest of the week. It sucked, and I hated it, but I was getting better at wielding a sword very quickly. Each night I was worthless, in ridiculous amounts of pain, which I learned to control and disregard. I supposed that was another thing Korinna had taught me, maintaining will and focus through pain.
Korinna, insanely sadistic or not, was right, pain was a good motivator to keep my head, and develop counters as quickly as possible for her seemingly endless combinations of stringed movement attacks.
More than that, the more experience I gained, and the greater my focus and stamina, the faster I defeated the new combinations that she brought out randomly as a surprise. Between my four years of training at home in swordsmanship, plus a week from hell by a crazy Nephilim instructor, with my own power, speed, and grace factored in, equaled a ridiculously fast training regimen.
By the end of the week, Korinna was positive I could hold my own against an angel, and if not be good enough to kill my opponent, at least last long enough to flee. The last day we trained she only hit me twice in four hours, and I got her back for it.
I’d still improve over time, but according to her it would take centuries to really get appreciably better, the learning curve got very steep after the quick rise to the level I was at by the end of the training week. I was supposed to meet her once a week from here on out to keep up and slowly improve my skills.
That was my week from hell.
The great time part of my week, came in the evenings, when I was visited by the family, who never seemed to run out of new faces. They visited me six to eight at a time, and while they made fun of my evening infirmity, they also cooked me dinner, made me laugh, and made me feel very welcome. Because of those visits I never did make it home on any of those nights. It would have been rude, plus by the time they left I was always so wiped out and still had soreness lingering, and I’d pass out to get enough sleep to wake up the next morning to start the cycle all over again.
I hadn’t visited the cat shifters either, as I’d planned to when I’d left Seattle. I could say that was because I was in too much pain, but by late at night it wasn’t really too bad, especially the last two nights. No, the real reason I didn’t visit them was because I couldn’t get the dark blue eyes out of my head, and the innocently seductive ephemeral beauty of her fair face.
It was dumb of course, I’d met her for maybe a minute, and she’d shot down my request for a date, I didn’t owe her anything that way. But… there was a part of me that still wanted to track her down for a second try and a conversation. As ridiculous as it sounded, I didn’t want to go scratch the itch and take care of my libido with meaningless sex with my cat shifter friends, before I’d worked it out. In truth, I merely hoped we’d have a conversation, and if she shot me down again I was sure I’d come to terms with it quickly. I just… had to see her one more time to be sure. She’d affected me so powerfully that night, I was hoping a second dose would be the cure.
So, I’d decided about halfway through the week I’d drop in on Sanctuary when the week from hell was over. I had no illusions, her beauty, power, and the instant chemistry had been powerful, and the idea of being with a woman who was my equal was a powerful thing, but it wasn’t love. It probably wouldn’t even work out, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work out either. It was that possibility that was keeping her inside my head. If she chased me off, I’d go and never bother her again, the last thing I wanted to do was become a stalker.
The angel was one reason, the other reason I didn’t visit the cat shifters, was because even if the sex between us was no strings attached, they were my friends, and I respected them. I didn’t want to have sex with one of them while thinking about another woman, and I knew that’s exactly what would have happened. I’d never used them before, and I wasn’t about to start now. Cat shifters weren’t well regarded by most of the other shifter types, and had needs due to their inclinations. I think they liked me because I didn’t lose control and rut myself, I always tried to be a generous lover, and never ran off afterward. A part of that might have been one of my mothers was a cat shifter, and so was one of my half-sisters, I couldn’t help but respect them, but a part of it was just who I was.
So, those were my two reasons for being a celibate punching bag for a week.
I packed my bag that night after a final dinner, where I’d finally met my grandfather, which was an interesting experience. It was like looking into a mirror, although he looked to be in his low twenties we had the same hazel eyes, light brown hair, and general build. It was a bit late when I left, too late to try and track down the angel, so I went home instead. I’d be more awake tomorrow anyway, not to mention pain free…
Chapter Fifteen – Portia
My week of hell started when I opened my eyes, and saw his excited gloating face. The large tent was empty now of his slaves, it was just me and him, and my stomach swirled in fear, as I realized I still couldn’t move, nor could I talk.
He said, “My name is Drake, you will address me as Drake or master at all times. You will not try to harm me, yourself, or any others without my command. You will also not try to escape. You will not leave the tent without permission. You may move now.”
Each of his orders hit me like a blow, and caused my heart to race faster. When told I could move, my body collapsed to the ground. I felt weak, and none of my protection spells were up. He hadn’t said anything about that so I immediately casted them all in quick succession, with my will alone. It was stupid, but I felt safer, even though I knew I was screwed, and very far from safe.
“Why… Drake,” the second word, his name, was pulled from me against my will. It would be a cold day in hell before I called him master. At least, I hoped it would. I felt on the edge of panic.
He smiled cheerfully, it made me want to punch him.
“Simple my dear, I wanted to study and get to know your race. It was a bit complicated, the string of events to bring us here, but quite necessary. Stand up, and get undressed.”
I clenched my jaw as my heart skipped and I felt a surge of disgust as I stood up, and slowly got undressed. Slowly was about the only part of it I could control, I couldn’t fight the order. I was filled with more disgust, self-disgust, how did I fall for his ploy? If I’d just killed him right away he never would have beaten me, but I’d wanted to see him suffer, to see regret in his eyes? What a waste of time that was, and stupid besides. I was also terrified of being raped, an
d my body started to shake.
Drake laughed, “Do not fear that. Some Fae are obsessed with pleasure, and use their slaves in such a way. They even enjoy the fear, horror, and humiliation it causes in their pets. I am not of a like mind my dear. I’m simply a scientist excited to examine a new life form. If I wanted sex, I’d take a mate of my choosing, from my own race.”
“Of your choosing Drake?”
I still felt horribly vulnerable as I stood naked before his greedy excited eyes, but I was no longer panicking, at least I would be spared that one indignity. Still, the look of clinical observation in his eyes, as if I was some bug to be dissected under a microscope, was nearly as bad.
Drake nodded absently, “I am fourth. Only the clan head and two others outrank me in power, which means every Fae maiden in camp is mine to choose from.”
“They don’t get a choice Drake?”
He laughed, “Choice? Power rules all, it is the way of things, and they are happy to serve me when the mood strikes. You are… unsightly.”
I felt offended by that, and then almost laughed at myself. Vanity? In this situation?
“How Drake? What have you done to me?”
He smiled and rubbed his hands together, “Are you familiar with soul swords?”
I shuddered, and nodded.
Drake said, “Well I got the idea to do the opposite. Instead of binding your soul to the sword, the swords power broke through your protections, and injected the magical soul bindings into your body. So, in essence, I bound your soul to that body permanently, and I am your owner since I wielded the weapon that did it. It was a bit complicated to get right, but I managed it.”
“So if I die? Drake…” I grated out.
Drake shrugged, “Then your soul will be bound to the dead flesh until I can restore life to it. You can never escape me, least of all through death.”
That was… monstrous. It was also everything I’d feared it was.
Drake asked, “Any more questions before I get started, I don’t like these exaggerated curves, and your breasts are ridiculously large and unattractive. I won’t have sex with you, but I also don’t want to be sickened by your presence.”
“What are you going to do?”
Drake said, “Sculpt your body into a more pleasant configuration. I’ll make you a bit taller which will shrink those ridiculous curves, higher cheekbones and thinner face. Your lips are a bit too large as well, then the breasts, after that I’ll reassess. You’ll be a work of art.
“It will also give me a lot of data, about your natural healing, pain threshold, and of course I’ll learn your pattern. I might… make a few mistakes in the beginning, but your immortal, and I’ll be able to fix it.”
It sounded like he wanted to make me look more Fae. Fae women were incredibly beautiful, but they were all tall and willowy, with faint curves rather than the hourglass figure I had. I’d also never seen one with more than pert B cups, so I imagined my Ds were quite unsightly to the man. His facial changes were for similar reasons, I felt like I was going to throw up. I shuddered, and spat out the first question I could think of.
“Pattern Drake?” I asked, hoping if I kept asking questions, he wouldn’t do whatever the hell he had in mind to do. I think I’d have preferred rape, to him changing my body like I was a thing to be manipulated and discovered for the joy of scientific knowledge.
I took back that thought immediately, I’d really rather he did neither. Regardless, what he had planned was still a violation of my body and self.
Drake looked thoughtful, “It’s what our magic does, we deal with life and souls, the patterns of life speak to us, and we can tweak them. I think the humans call it DNA, your pattern of life. First your body, then we can play with your personality a bit.”
I swallowed, and felt a tear in my eye, I was still in denial, surely this couldn’t happen, he couldn’t do those things to me. My personality? That was even worse than a body makeover.
I wanted to beg, to plead, but I pushed that down. It wasn’t all pride either, I knew there was no point. I reached for stoicism, and came up short, but I did the best I could in the face of this horror.
Then I felt his magic pass into my body, my spells allowed it, because my magic and soul recognized his authority. I felt violated, and then my whole body was wracked with pain. My mind spun for a way out, any way out, the pain was blinding, and all my nerves felt like they were being dipped in acid. He’d said not to hurt myself, then an idea came, it both scared me and gave me hope. I ignored the scared part, it was the fear of being vulnerable, but I was already vulnerable and helpless, so what did that matter?
With a thought, I cast a sleep spell, on myself. The pain faded with my consciousness…
I woke several hours later, and I felt different. Not my mind, or who I was, I didn’t think he started in on that yet. I also knew he would only meet with a partial success in that area. When my soul, spirit, energy entered this mortal plane, it created a body and mind that reflected who I was perfectly in my soul.
Even if he changed this body, and gave me knew attributes and desires, it wouldn’t affect my soul, and who I truly was, though it would probably affect my thoughts and desires until I could escape this body, but I had no idea how to accomplish such a thing. I knew nothing of soul binding magic, neither the Fae’s, nor of the infernal.
I opened my eyes reluctantly, and saw I was lying in a cage that was only tall enough to kneel. My hands reached up to my face, and didn’t recognize what I felt. Thinner lips, thin nose and cheeks, very high cheekbones. I didn’t start to cry, until I lifted my wavy golden blonde hair, which I loved, and saw a very straight dull ash blonde instead.
I really didn’t want to know, but couldn’t help moving my hands down my body as I was filled with ever increasing horror mixed with resignation and disgust. My breasts were much smaller, my curves still obviously female, but very understated. My skin tingled unpleasantly, I felt stretched out, and even lying down my balance felt off.
Then I was filled with anger as Drake walked in with several others.
Drake said, “You will not put yourself to sleep again, or in any other way render yourself unconscious outside of normal sleep.”
It was like a slap, and I felt angrier, and glared at the others. I wasn’t allowed to harm them either.
“I don’t know when, but my people will learn the truth one day, and unless you release me you will be as culpable as Drake when the time comes for a reckoning. This I swear on my sword and my life.”
One of the woman sniffed, “She’s rude.”
Drake shrugged apologetically, “I just got her, I haven’t had time to change her attitude yet.”
“Punish it,” she demanded.
Drake said, “This by the way my dear Portia, is the head of our clan. You will speak respectfully at all times, and call her mistress. I will give some thought to her punishment mistress, I wish to explore her morality and capacity for guilt and anguish.”
I was horrified by those words, what the hell would he do to me to make me feel guilt and anguish? Or probably more accurately, what would he make me do? I was also even angrier, but I kept my mouth shut this time. The fair warning was already given, I’d given them a chance and the bitch spit in my face, figuratively, they were all already dead in my eyes. The entire clan. No more chances. I didn’t give a shit about their amoral stance, or that they didn’t understand exactly what they’d just done. They’d declared war against the angels by imprisoning and keeping my soul captive, and we weren’t cute fluffy cloud dwelling creatures, we were warriors. We’d make a statement they could understand, so they wouldn’t ever do anything like this again.
Now… all I had to do was escape, which meant for now they were very safe from my wrath. But nothing was forever, and I swore their bill would come due. I couldn’t harm them, but I could do something useful in the meantime.
I cast a spell, one I hadn’t used in centuries. I hadn’t needed to, once I found a ro
gue they could never escape me, so there’d been no point to read their signature in case they escaped. But… in this case it was a little different, the Fae could probably escape me if I got free.
It took me moments to get all three of their signatures, the very essence of who they were, and I let the spell move outside and read one Fae after another. I couldn’t reach the whole camp, it was larger than the range of the spell, but I could get to a good two thirds of it. All the ones that my spell touched, there was now nowhere in this world they could run fast enough, or hide well enough, to evade me. Once I knew the signature of a creature, I could always find it, and sooner or later, everyone in the clan would pass close enough to this tent.
If I could escape, they would all die.
Drake brought me back to the present, “I have an idea.”
He cast a spell on me, and I felt the Fae magic melt into my body, it made me shiver in disgust.
“What was that Drake?” I asked respectfully, damned orders.
Drake said, “A diagnostic spell. It will monitor your emotions, and also the physiological reactions to those emotions, such as accelerated heartrate, the chemicals produced in your body, pretty much everything. Now, what do you think we should do? I can either order you to reveal yourself to mankind. I imagine even under my power that would make you a traitor, perhaps even cause you to become a fallen angel. That might be fun, and very interesting to watch and learn about.”
I was speechless, and frozen. I’d never been more terrified since I’d found myself in this mess. I’d rather he raped me, or do anything else, anything but that. Of course, he proved me wrong a moment later, there was something that was worse, or at least, equally bad as far as I was concerned.
Drake added, “Or maybe I’ll just send you home, where you can slaughter all your precious rogues.”
I felt tears flood my eyes, and had never hated someone so much in my life. Two horrible things, failure of my duty, my life’s mission, which I believed in. I loved my job, and no way did I want to fall. The second one was like a dagger to my heart. I loved the rogues I brought together, they were mine. Mine to protect, and this piece of shit wanted to make me kill them?”
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