Arena Book 2

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Arena Book 2 Page 18

by Logan Jacobs

She pushed one of the glasses to me and held hers up. She gripped the glass from underneath, the bottom rested on her fingertips. I took my glass and held it in the same fashion.

  “To the Crucible,” she said almost reverently. It seemed an odd toast, but I wasn’t about to disrespect my host.

  “To the Crucible,” I said, and she took a healthy swig from her glass. I did the same. The liquid was ice cold at first then warmed quickly like a shot of single malt scotch without the harsh burn. It had hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and a dark, desert spice that I couldn’t name. It landed in my stomach, and the warmth soon spread to every inch of my worn out body. My head buzzed in the silky heat, but I wasn’t drunk. Just, very relaxed.

  “This is…” I searched for an appropriately descriptive word. “Really good.”

  She smiled and laughed. It sounded like a low purr from deep in her chest.

  “My people are notoriously fickle,” she said after she took another sip. “Much like your domesticated house cat or so my research into your world has led me to believe. We are both easily bored. But I will say, Marc Havak, that you excel at keeping me engaged.”

  “Most people say annoyed,” I said with a smile and I could feel the tension of the fight fade from my body as if it were a sheet that was being slowly pulled away from me. “So, from what I can tell in our brief meetings, you’re a gangster, some kind of cat ninja, and a nomadic tent kitty. Am I missing anything?”

  “No,” she replied and met my eyes. “That about covers it.”

  And that was as much as she explained. She sat in total silence and sipped her drink. Oh, and she smiled as if she knew a thousand secrets and wasn’t about to tell me a single one.

  “Okay then,” I said to break our momentary silence. “Why the hell are you with a no good, sneaky, bastard like Irrus?”

  Her ears pricked up, and her tail swished involuntarily as I asked my question.

  “That is a complicated question,” she said and then hesitated before she continued. Her tail swished faster, then came to rest in her lap as if she had made up her mind on something. “One that I have asked myself every day since I first went to work for the disgusting rodent nearly twenty years ago when I was only seven. I am a native of this planet. We are rare, but we do exist, and it is not an easy existence at that. For neighborhoods like this, the gangs are the only law and order there is, and the rich who serve the Crucible may as well live in another galaxy. Life here is what you can scrape by on.”

  She took another sip, as did I, and let her work her way through her thoughts.

  “The gangs are not all bad,” she said as if it were a secret. “There are some that help provide food and work for their turfs. Others, well, as you’ve seen others use it as a way to gain power and control. My parents and most of my brothers and sisters were killed in a rat attack when I was little. Species battles were common back then. Irrus had made a habit of taking one survivor from every family he destroyed and giving them a choice. Join him and his growing organization, or die. I decided to live and began to work for him. But at that moment, I also decided that I would one day bring him and his organization down. I watched. I learned. I did as I was told, and I ruthlessly went through anyone in my way until I became his right hand. I was biding my time, waiting for a moment when I could strike and take him, and after all these years I thought it would never come.”

  She paused again and took the last sip from her glass. Once again, I was silent. For as much as I liked to run my mouth, Uncle Joe had taught me young that there are times when you keep your mouth shut and just listen. Because you just might learn something that could save you one day.

  “And then along came you, Marc,” she continued with a disbelieving head shake. “Irrus had bet heavily against you on your Island trial and ever since has been hell bent on bringing you down. Foolishly so.” She gave me a sly smile. “I saw my chance and took it. And have not been bored since.”

  “Well, it was my pleasure,” I finally said to break my silence.

  “Not yet,” she mewled under her breath.

  “What?”

  “Would you like to clean up?” she said without missing a beat. She was good.

  “Um, yeah,” I replied as I caught a whiff of myself. It was not pleasant. I smelled of sweat, roach guts, and warehouse trash. Not a good combo. “Do you have a shower or something or am I gonna have to lick myself clean?”

  “I have a shower for guests,” she answered, and her eyes narrowed just a bit. My jibe hit a little close to home.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I use inappropriate humor to--”

  “Mask when you feel uncomfortable,” she completed for me with a sly grin. “I know. Down that hallway is a washroom. Make yourself at home.”

  She stood, glanced down at me with amusement, and then sauntered down the other hallway without another word.

  “Okay then,” I said to myself as I got up and walked down the hallway she had pointed to, and sure enough, there was a decent sized little bathroom with an honest to goodness shower like something out of a mid-century war movie. A large water tank hung from the ceiling, and a shower head protruded on a pipe from its belly. There were two chains next to the shower head, and I pulled one. Icy water poured. I tried the other chain and hot water hit my hand with an explosion of steam. I pulled the other again and soon had a perfect mixture.

  Before I knew I’d even done it, my clothes were in a stinky pile on the floor near the door, and I let the hot water douse me. Steam quickly filled the little room as I enjoyed the sensation of the almost scalding shower wash away the last bits of the fight. There were several little bottles on a shelf just under the showerhead, and I picked one up, took the top off and smelled it. Lavender.

  “Ugh, no.” Even if I’d wanted to smell like an old lady, I hated lavender. The next bottle smelled like a brown sugar cookies with a hint of wood polish. I decided it was manly enough and emptied the bottle onto my head and lathered up. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed an actual shower. Yeah, the Spiff-O-Matic 2000 was awesome and all, but there was something really satisfying about an old-fashioned shower. After I’d scrubbed every inch to get all the guts, grime, and glass off of me, I rinsed clean and turned off the hot water. The icy blast was a shock I’d gotten to like, but not for too long. Five seconds was about all I could take, and I quickly released the chain. I grabbed a very fluffy body-sized towel from a hook near the shower and toweled off.

  I hated to put back on my grungy outfit, but it was all I had, and I didn’t think I could catch a cab home naked, but when I went to get them they were gone.

  “Huh,” I mused to myself as I wrapped the towel around my midsection. “I could have sworn I put them right there.”

  I walked through the steam and back down the hallway to find Fallon to see if she had anything I could throw on. When I reached the living area, it was almost completely dark with only the flicker of a few large candles at the corners of the room providing any light.

  “Fallon?” I called out.

  Then I felt a very light velvety tickle up my spine as a fur covered tail then wrapped itself around my shoulders. A deep, throaty purr filled my ear.

  “Right here,” Fallon whispered as she seemed to appear out of nowhere beside me. She smelled like spiced cider, and her fur shimmered in the candle light. She was also completely naked. It was a sight like no other. Her fur had flattened against her body so that it was almost skin like but still smooth and soft. Her small breasts heaved slightly as she breathed in anticipation.

  “There you are,” I replied. I’d half expected this and wasn’t startled this time at all.

  “Am I?” She teased and went to slink away in some kind of cat foreplay game. I reached up and grabbed her by the hair, right at the base of her neck where I imagined her scruff would be.

  “Yes,” I growled with a desire of my own, “you are.”

  She gasped as I pulled her close and kissed her surprised lips. She struggled for a seco
nd, and then her body pressed into mine, and she mewled deep from her throat. Her fingers scratched lightly down my back, and I gasped myself. Her muscles were taut under my hands as I explored her body. She arched her back and cried out in pleasure as my fingers found and teased her nipples.

  Her hands moved lower, and my towel fell to the floor, and then I cried out in pleasure as she took me in her hands. The sensation of her fur was like the softest velvet I’d ever felt. She brought me almost to the point of no return before I couldn't take it anymore, and we sank to the floor.

  As we did, she turned so she was on all fours in front of me, and I nearly lost my mind with desire when her tail curled around my waist and guided me to her.

  The room spun, or maybe it was just my head, as she pushed back onto me, and soon we found a wild, animalistic rhythm. The air filled with our moans and cries as I thrust, and she bucked and waves of intense pleasure washed over both of us until I could hold back no longer, and we both climaxed like heaven itself split open.

  I collapsed, completely spent, and she nuzzled into the crook of my arm, her nose in my neck.

  “My, my, my,” she whispered and then yawned with her whole body. “You are full of surprises, and now I’m full of your cum. It feels great.”

  “Uhh. Well, yeah… Glad to be of service,” I said as my cock twitched again from her words.

  “Hmmmm,” she purred deep in my own chest as we lay together amid the pillows, and then sleep finally stole us away like a thief in the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I awoke the next morning from a very strange dream. I was a pet store owner in rural Tempe, Arizona for some reason. My wife, who looked like Artemis, and I had decided to steal a baby turtle from Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Arizona who’d had turtle sixtuplets, ‘cause they had more than they could handle. I wore a bright red hawaiian shirt, and my hair was wild and crazy, and Artie wore a cop uniform as we drove in a busted up station wagon with a ladder tied to the top of a large adobe style home surrounded by a giant cactus.

  I had just come back to the car empty-handed.

  “You go back there and get me one of them turtles!” Artie had yelled at me in a version of Aurora’s voice.

  “But honey, they was all o’er me,” I exclaimed as I awoke from the dream to find myself still buck naked from the night before and surrounded by puffy pillows and nothing else. “Okay, that was weird. Fallon?”

  I wiped the sleep and the freaky dream from my eyes and found a small note on the table. It read:

  Marc,

  You sure knew how to make this kitty purr.

  I left you some clothes because I burned the ones you left in the bathroom. Please leave through the rear exit. I can’t afford to have anyone see you leave, since Irrus’ informants are everywhere. I’ll be in touch.

  Looking forward to tasting your cream again.

  Fallon

  “Wow, I got booty called,” I said as I got up and started to put on the clothes that were in a neat pile by the note. When I was done, I went into the bathroom and took a long look at myself in the mirror.

  I looked just like Christian Bale from Newsies.

  I also looked ridiculous.

  “Blimey, guv’na, it’s Mary Poppins!” I joked to my reflection when I heard an honest to goodness cuckoo clock chime from the main room. It rang nine times. “Oh, shit!”

  I was super late for training. That and I wasn’t sure if anyone knew where the fuck I was.

  I found the rear exit of the building and stepped out into the bright mid-morning moonlight. It was a gorgeous day, but I pulled my heavy woolen scally cap down over my face and flipped the collar of the thick corduroy overcoat up high to cover as much of my face as I could.

  My inner GPS kicked in, and I navigated myself out of Fallon’s neighborhood as quickly as I could. In the morning light, her ‘turf’ was a bustle of activity by a melting pot of alien creatures. Some swept their stoops while others walked briskly to work and others opened up store fronts or pushed produce stands. It was like I had walked into depression era New York. The anachronism was at first a little disorienting, but I soon grew to find it incredibly comforting. But as much as I wanted to hang out, I knew it was dangerous to spend more time here than necessary.

  Soon I hit a major intersection that looked decidedly more alien death match world and hailed a hover cab. Morning traffic was still heavy, so it took almost thirty minutes for me to reach the Hall of Champions. Nova and I had covered a hell of a lot of ground in our crazy chase the night before.

  Once there, I paid the cab driver and rushed to our gym.

  “Okay everybody, I’m here and I’m okay,” I said out of breath as I burst through the door.

  Artemis and Grizz were huddled over by the command center still in the midst of analyzing the dagger. Aurora was at the shooting range doing quick draw drills with PoLarr, and Nova was in the workout corner in the middle of a set of very heavy squats. She looked very well rested and completely fine. Everyone looked up from what they were doing for a brief moment and then went back to it. I walked over to the command center.

  “Someone smells like pussy,” Artemis said with a snicker.

  “Artemis!” I yelped as I felt embarrassment flush my cheeks.

  “Oh, yay, I got one right.” She giddily clapped her hands together. “I practiced that most of the morning. Good sizzle, yes?”

  “Yes, Artemis, very good sizzle,” I said as I tried to rebound. “Wait, wasn’t anyone worried about me?”

  “No.” Grizz responded.

  “After Nova arrived here last night, I ran a remote diagnostic on your vitals and saw that you were okay,” Artemis said. “She was able to tell us roughly what happened before I shoved her in a regen pod set on high. We figured you were feeding the kitty so to speak.”

  “Jesus Christ, Artemis,” I exclaimed with a fresh rush of embarrassment.

  “Sweet!” She said as she did a little fist bump. “Two for two.”

  Aurora, PoLarr, and Nova walked over and joined us.

  “Good work, Aurora,” PoLarr said as Aurora set her pulsar pistol down on the workbench that extended from the computers and lead to one of the weapons lockers. It was where we went over specs for new guns and armor and such. “Just keep practicing your trigger squeezes. Remember, it’s not a pull but a gentle squeeze.”

  “I do love a good, slow, squeeze, right, Marc?” Aurora drawled and smirked at me.

  “Haha,” I said sarcastically. “I didn’t know it was bust Marc’s balls day.”

  “I was not aware you were into such things,” Nova chimed in with a devilish grin of her own. “I want to be first in line.”

  “Did you motorboat them?” PoLarr asked out of nowhere. “You motorboated them didn’t you? You motorboating son of a bitch… Why did I just say that? God, I am having serious second thoughts about the Soul Gaze, Havak.”

  “Aw, come on, my brain is a delightful wonderland,” I shot back. I pretended to be all hurt, but I loved this kind of stuff and that these smoking hot, deadly dangerous women felt comfortable busting my chops.

  “Alright,” Grizz said and cleared his throat like a coach who had had enough of everyone’s nonsense, “since Havak has graced us with his presence this morning, we should finally get to work. As it turns out there is little rest in store for you, Marc, so I hope your excursion with the criminal was worth it.”

  “Hey,” I argued, “I’m not sure I completely trust her, but she revealed a few things about her involvement with Irrus that leads me to believe she is very much on our side and an ally.”

  “How so?” Nova asked and began to do some light stretches. She really did look one hundred percent better than when I last saw her, while I looked like something the cat dragged in.

  “I think she wants to bring Irrus down,” I said. “Not so much to take his place as a ruthless crime boss but to help her part of town.”

  “That actually makes a lot of sense,” Artemis said. “Many of
the gangs are more interested in illegal activity than they are in improving the quality of life for those that live in their sectors of the city.”

  “Pretty much what Fallon said,” I confirmed.

  “Okay,” Grizz acquiesced, “but I still want you all to be on your guard. Allies can become mortal enemies in the blink of an eye in the Crucible.”

  “Sage words, Grizz,” PoLarr agreed. “Do we know what the next match is going to entail? It’s time for a large scale challenge after the smaller ones yesterday.”

  “Just pulling that info up now, PoLarr,” Artemis responded and tapped a few buttons on her keypad. The display on the wall came to life and showed the cut-away diagram of a very large space cruiser.

  “This, females and germ-viruses,” Artemis started, and I didn’t have the heart to correct her after her two recent euphemism wins, so I just let it go. “Is the Dauntless Spear, a Dreadnought class starship from the Belial system. A humanoid race very similar to Earth humans, only about five thousand years more advanced. They skipped the whole Dark Ages thing. It was on a diplomatic exploratory mission to a nearby galaxy when it passed through the trail of a strange, uncharted comet. The Belial home world lost contact for thirty-two days. When the ship emerged from the tail, no one could raise a single person on the coms. The Dauntless’ main reactor was off line and only life support and back-up power signatures could be read. No known life forms were left aboard. It had become a ghost ship.”

  “Jesus, someone’s been playing a little too much Dead Space and Doom after watching Event Horizon,” I muttered.

  “Spooky,” Aurora said quietly. “I like it already.”

  “This is the location of tomorrow’s match,” Artemis continued, her voice ominous. “It is not a construct. This is an actual, real life ship that you will be teleporting into. It is a two person maximum alliance match. Your goal is to bring the ships main reactor back online and teleport home. And that is all I know.”

  “Easy-peasy, right guys?” I joked. No one found it funny. “Okay, well, I guess we need to decide on who is going and what we are going to load out with. Whose game?”

 

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