Serpent Son

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Serpent Son Page 8

by N. P. Martin


  Amelia nodded. "He’s part of a gang that tried to muscle in on Iolas’ territory a while back. I was sent in to sort them out."

  "And by territory you mean anywhere in Dublin."

  "Yes, Iolas controls it all," she said. "The way he looks at it, crime in the city will always exist, so he might as well control it his way."

  "And profit from it his way as well."

  Amelia shrugged. "Business is business."

  I couldn’t get on my high horse too much. By acting as a Godfather of sorts, Iolas kept the gangs in the city in line. Without his influence, chaos would probably ensue on the streets of Dublin and the murder rate would go up as the gangs killed each other over territory.

  My eyes went to the orc at the bar, who was now openly staring at us. "Is this dude going to be a problem?" I asked Amelia.

  She looked out the window just as a black BMW pulled up outside, out of which stepped four massive orcs. "Considering his friends have just arrived, I’d say yes."

  I shook my head as I polished off the whiskey in my glass, pretty much half drunk by this stage. "So are we going to have a fight on our hands?"

  Amelia didn’t seem too bothered by the prospect of violence. "I can handle it if you want to stay in your seat, lover boy."

  "Lover boy?" I made a snorting sound. "Piss off, I can fight with the best of them."

  She smiled. "I guess we’re about to find out if that’s true or not."

  She finished her drink and stood up just as the newly arrived orcs entered the bar and met up with their mate. The other customers knew there was something wrong immediately, and most of them got up and hurried out before things kicked off. The lone barman looked afraid as well. "I don’t want no trouble in here, lads," he said, his plea met with harsh stares.

  "It’s all right, Frank," Amelia said to the barman. "These boys were just leaving."

  The biggest of the orcs stepped forward then, stopping six feet from our table. My adrenaline spiked just at the sight of him. His dark eyes smoldered with anger and the promise of violence, and his tusks moved up and down slightly as his jaw clenched and unclenched. "Remember me?" he growled at Amelia.

  "Cletus, right? How could I forget that ugly mug?" Amelia showed no trace of fear in her voice at all, and despite my own rising fear, I couldn’t help but be turned on by her confidence and unwavering composure.

  "You fucking elves think you are so superior," Cletus said. "Well, you won’t be catching us off guard this time, I’ll tell you that."

  Amelia walked around the table to stand in the middle of the floor facing Cletus. "Are you sure about that?"

  Cletus’ confidence wavered for just a second as he looked into Amelia’s eyes. Somewhere in that big skull of his he probably realized he had made a mistake coming here, but it was too late to back down now, and he knew it. His response, therefore, was just to growl as he signaled for his men to come forward. Two of the other orcs moved past him toward Amelia, but before they could do anything, Amelia hit them both with a double blast of magical energy that lifted both orcs of their feet, sending them flying back to land on a nearby table that was demolished by their combined weight.

  Still sitting in my chair, I was as shocked as the orcs by Amelia’s awesome display of power. It was the first time I had seen her use her magic, and if she was formidable before, she was even more so now. Elves drew their magic from the Void like every other Touched being, with the only difference being that elves had a much stronger connection to the Void than most other Touched, with the exception of vampires, who were supernatural to the core. The strength of her magic put mine to shame, and it made me wonder how strong Iolas’ magic would be, given that he is much older than Amelia.

  Cletus’ face was a mask of fury as he stared at Amelia after she threw his men across the room, both of whom had gotten to their feet by now and were shaking themselves off. It was going to take more than that to put these guys down, I realized.

  "Get the bitch!" Cletus roared, just as the remaining customers in the room fled and the barman ducked down behind the bar.

  At that point, I knew it was time to join the fray. As much as I knew Amelia could probably handle the orcs on her own, I wasn’t about to let her do so. As she jumped forward to meet the first of the oncoming thugs, slamming her fist into his jaw, I jumped up out of my seat and said the words, "Flat Fulgur!" A split second later, a bolt of lightning was loosed from my hand, striking the nearest orc to me. The lightning bolt hit the orc in his massive barrel chest, anchoring him to the spot for a moment as the electricity passed through his whole body, causing him to convulse before dropping to the floor unconscious.

  The orc that Amelia punched a moment ago also lay out of it on the floor, which left three other orcs standing, including Cletus. One of them charged at Amelia, but I didn’t have time to witness her response, because the other one charged at me at the same time. I’d had plenty of run-ins with orcs over the years, but still their gigantic size never failed to intimidate me. As the orc started swinging his huge fist at my head, I did my best to avoid his punches, taking advantage of my smaller size to duck underneath them for the most part, at the same time well aware that it would only take one of those punches to knock me into next week, and very probably a damn coma.

  This wasn’t my first fight, however, so I had a few tricks up my sleeve that didn’t involve magic (which I didn’t have time to use anyway). When the orc took his next swing, I moved to the side and thrust the flat of my foot into the side of his knee. It was my experience that bigger opponents always had weak joints from carrying all that muscle and bulk. Unfortunately though, this didn’t prove to be the case with this orc, who appeared to have joints of steel. As my foot struck, it merely bounced off his leg like I was kicking the trunk of a thousand year old oak tree. As I paused for a second in dismay, the orc capitalized on my inaction and reached out quickly to wrap his hand around my throat, which he did easily thanks to his long reach and iron grip.

  The next thing I knew, I was being lifted off the ground as the orc’s fingers tightened around me, instantly disrupting the vascular pressure in my neck. I had about five seconds until I would be unconscious, and another handful of seconds after that until I was dead. There was no doubt in my mind that the orc would keep on squeezing even after I’d blacked out. His mistake, however, was to hold me in too close to him, which meant could reach him. So before unconsciousness hit, I used my one chance to stab my thumb into his eyeball as hard as I could. When I felt the tip of my thumb hit jelly, I continued to push in harder until it felt like my whole thumb was buried deep in the orcs wide eye socket. The big bastard screamed in pain then, and then I found myself dropping to the floor. I took a few seconds to recover as the blood rushed back to my brain, but even before my vision had completely righted itself, I stood up to see the orc standing with both hands over his injured eye.

  Let’s see if you have balls of steel as well, motherfucker, I thought as I swung a kick between the orc’s legs, my shin bone connecting with the soft tissue of his genitals, satisfyingly crushing them against his pubic bone. The orc made a noise then that I have never heard anyone make before. It was like the sound of a stuck pig combined with the sound of a strangled cat, both of whom were on fire.

  As the orc sank to his knees, his face a mask of pain, his one eye streaming fluid, I thrust my hand out and hit him in the chest with a bolt of lightning that immediately put him out of his misery.

  By now, Amelia had taken down the other orc, which only left Cletus standing, furious and too dumb to back down, even though all of his gang lay around him completely out of it.

  "Well, Cletus," Amelia said, hardly a hair out of place on her. "What’s it going to be? Are you going to walk out of here, or are you going to end up lying on the floor with your friends?"

  I went and stood beside her then. "I’d advise you to take the first option," I said to Cletus.

  Cletus smiled then, if you could call what he did a smile, with
those tusks and rubbery lips. "How about a third option?" he said, and suddenly reached inside his jacket to pull out a massive gun, which if I’m not mistaken, was a bloody Desert Eagle.

  Amelia didn’t flinch when she saw the gun. "Wow," she said. "It’s amazing what you can get on the streets of Dublin these days, isn’t it?"

  "This might as well be Detroit or New York with all the guns floating around here now," I said, though I didn’t feel as confident as Amelia about the situation. It was a fucking Desert Eagle after all.

  Amelia took a step forward. "Do you think you can pull that trigger before I get to you?" she said to Cletus.

  Cletus snorted. "I’m happy to try."

  Amelia nodded. "Just as long as you know that if you do try, I’m going to take that gun and shove it up your green-skinned ass. Then I’m going to pull the trigger."

  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or not, but I couldn’t help a small laugh coming from my mouth, which only seemed to wind Cletus up further. He took two steps forward and pointed the gun at Amelia’s head, the huge barrel only inches away from her now. Still, she didn’t seem nervous about it at all, even though she should’ve been. I wasn’t sure if even she was that quick.

  "Go ahead, Cletus," she said calmly. "Pull the trigger, and then Iolas will hunt you down and keep you locked in his dungeon for the rest of your miserable life just so he can have you tortured every day. And knowing my uncle, he’ll probably round up every other orc in the city and have them all killed, one by one until there are none of you left." Crazily, she took another step forward until the gun was almost touching her forehead. "Is that what you want, Cletus?"

  Cletus looked uncertain now, especially as he knew Amelia was probably telling the truth. There would be no end to Iolas’ wrath if Amelia were to be killed. "It might just be worth it to see you die, bitch," he growled.

  "Wrong answer," Amelia said, and in a blur of impossibly fast movement, she suddenly disarmed Cletus of the Desert Eagle, sounding like she had broken his thumb against the trigger guard in the process. She now had the gun pressed tight against Cletus’ forehead, and suddenly the orc didn’t seem so cocky anymore.

  "You should’ve listened," I said, just glad the whole debacle was almost over.

  "Go ahead," Cletus growled, somewhat softly now. "You think I’m afraid to die?"

  "I do actually," Amelia said. When she cocked the hammer on the gun, Cletus’ eyes closed for a second as though he was expecting a bullet in the head.

  "Amelia," I said, now thinking she was actually going to shoot the orc. "I think he’s learned his lesson now, don’t you?"

  For the first time, Cletus seemed to agree as he glanced at me almost gratefully.

  "Fine," Amelia said, lowering the gun finally after another tense moment. "Pick your men up and get out of here, Cletus, and don’t ever let me run into you again. Next time, I won’t be so lenient. Also, I’m keeping your gun."

  Cletus tutted and shook his head, seemingly more annoyed over the gun than with his defeat. "You know how hard those things are to get here?"

  Amelia shook her head. "Just go."

  The rest of the orcs had woken up by this stage and were all pulling themselves to their feet, including the one whose eye I gouged. He threw me a dirty look as he walked away, at least with his good eye.

  Amelia stood holding the gun until Cletus and his gang had vacated the room, then she turned to look at me and we both smiled at each other, that feeling of aliveness flowing through us that only comes from having survived a close encounter with death. "You can handle yourself rightly," she said. "I’m impressed."

  "Right back at you," I said, unable to take my eyes off her.

  She went to the bar and handed the barman the Desert Eagle. Although he was Touched, he still seemed shocked by the events that had taken place in his bar. "Put this away for me, will you, Frank? I’ll pick it up next time. And put any damage on my tab."

  Frank nodded and gingerly took the massive gun, holding it for a second like he was expecting it go off, before placing it under the bar.

  Outside, just as dusk was settling over the city, we got into the Dodge and Amelia drove down the street a bit before turning up a deserted side street and parking the car. "What are we doing?" I asked her.

  Her reply was to suddenly climb on top of me and press her lips hard against mine as she furiously began to kiss me, her hands dropping down to expertly undo my belt and open my trousers. A little overwhelmed by her sudden passions, I nonetheless responded in kind, sliding my hands under her short skirt, finding to my delight that she was sans underwear. In seconds it seemed, she was pressing herself down on me, and I almost exploded there and then as her silky wetness enveloped me. Then she began to grind her hips against me, gripping my hair as she bucked with abandon on top of me, her moans of pleasure increasing in intensity as she neared her orgasm. When she came, I felt her soft walls tighten around me, and a second later, I came with a loud groan as I pulled her in tight to me, her firm breasts pushing against my flushed face.

  "Jesus Christ," I panted after she was back in her seat. "I’ll say one thing for you, Amelia."

  "What’s that?" she said smiling.

  I smiled back at her. "You sure know how to show a guy a good time."

  15

  It was almost dark when Amelia dropped me off outside the bookshop. She seemed as cool as ever as she sat with the engine still running, telling me she would be in touch when there was more work to be done, coming across like we didn’t have sex a mere twenty minutes ago right where I was sitting. I sat for a moment, wanting to ask her about Iolas buying up the industrial estate in Damastown, but sensing she probably wouldn’t take too kindly to such questions right now. Besides, I had enjoyed myself and didn’t want to spoil the good vibes between us, so I merely smiled and told her goodbye before exiting the car and watching her screech off up the street.

  Still smiling, and with a pleasant buzz throughout my whole body, I unlocked the door to the bookshop and stepped inside.

  "Did you enjoy your date?"

  I jumped when I heard the voice and switched on the light to see Dalia sitting behind the desk at the back of the shop, her eyes dark and serious looking as she peered out from under a black hoodie. "Jesus, D," I said shaking my head. "I wish you would stop bloody doing that."

  "You never mentioned you were going on a date."

  I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable under her glare. "It wasn’t exactly a date, and what’s it to you anyway?"

  "Nothing." She sat back in the chair and folded her arms across herself. "You can do what you like, I’m not your keeper."

  I went and sat on the edge of the desk. "Then why are you giving me third degree?"

  Dalia shook her head dismissively. "I hope you got some good information out of her at least."

  "I’m still working on that," I said shifting slightly on the desk. "Amelia isn’t the type to be rushed."

  Dalia sat forward slightly and seemed to sniff the air. "Isn’t the type to be rushed, eh? I can smell her sex off you, Corvin."

  Smiling slightly, I looked away for a moment. "Things may gotten…heated."

  "I’m sure they did," she said, making a face. "I can’t believe your fucking an elf, especially when you suspect her uncle killed your mother."

  My feel good buzz was well and truly dampened by now thanks to her persistent badgering. "Gimme a break, D, will you? I just needed to blow off some steam, that’s all."

  Dalia sighed as she pulled her hood down to reveal her pale face. "Fair enough. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Those elves are dangerous."

  You’re telling me.

  "I’m being careful."

  "I’m sure your cock tells it differently."

  I started laughing as I shook my head. "You’re too much sometimes, D, you know that?"

  Even she was smiling now. "So what’s your next move, Lothario, besides edging to fuck your new elf girlfriend again?"

 
"She’s not my girlfriend," I told her. "And I was going to pay my pathologist friend a visit, if you want to come with."

  She stood up immediately. "Let’s go then, before I die of boredom sitting here."

  "Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have your own shit to do?"

  "No, I just thought I would wait around on you coming off your date so I could give you a hard time about it."

  "You’re twisted, and for the second time, it wasn’t a date."

  "Maybe not." She placed her hand on my chest for a moment. "But you have feelings for her, I can tell."

  I tutted and shook my head as I walked away from her. "Let’s go. We’ll have to take me ma’s car."

  "Cool," she said seeming excited now. "I love that car. Can we drive with the top down?"

  "Sure, D, if it makes you happy."

  "It does."

  Although I had a driver’s license, I didn’t have my own car. Truth be told, I preferred to walk around the city, or grab a taxi, bus or train when needed. Cars make a person lazy, I find, so I tended just to use my mother’s old car when I needed it. In return, she used to insist that I fill the tank after I’d finished, which I was usually happy to do, unless I was skint, of course, in which case I would end up cleaning the flat or running errands instead. My mother was nothing if not fair.

  The car was kept in a private garage not far down the street, a garage that I would have to start paying for myself once the lease ran out in a few months. As we walked down the street, Dalia picked up her line of enquiry again.

  "So," she said. "What was that elven pussy like? Was it as fine and beautiful as the rest of her?"

  "Jesus," I said shaking my head. "You’re relentless."

  "I’ll bet it was slick as hell."

  She certainly wasn’t wrong on that score. "It was no different to any other pussy I’ve had."

  "Liar."

  Ignoring her, I used the key I had to unlock the door of the garage and walked inside. My mother’s car was one of four other cars parked next to each other. Her’s was a dark blue MIII Triumph Spitfire that was manufactured all the way back in 1967. How the thing was still running, I’ll never know. Sometimes I wondered if my mother used her magic to keep it from giving up the ghost. Or maybe she just knew a good mechanic. Either way, the car still drove well, if a little awkwardly at times. After we got in, I used the remote control sitting on the dash to open the garage door, then I started the engine and drove out to the street, using the remote again to close the garage door behind us. Dalia sat next to me looking like a kid about to go on their first fairground ride. She never did learn to drive, so she liked it when I took her for rides occasionally. It was a balmy night, so I didn’t mind having the top down.

 

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