The book Master Ko had held that day and his carefully controlled expression stuck with her though. Eventually she found her way into the library and, after much searching, was able to locate it. She flipped through the pages, reading about dragons, heroes, and battles long past. She paused as she began to encounter the Puppet Master. As he skulked and slipped through the passages she began to see disturbing similarities between his abilities and her own. As she finished the final page and put the book down she walked to Master Ko’s office.
She knocked and was bade enter. She walked to him and stood before the man.
“Master Ko, please, when you first asked about my powers, tell me what you saw.”
He looked puzzled, “I saw a young woman with valuable potential.”
“But you were concerned you saw something else, too? Something darker? I recalled the book you were holding and I noticed the similarities. You must have seen them as well.”
Master Ko’s face fell. “I was careless and you are very observant. I had hoped you would not face that until much later.”
Dahlia remained silent.
“It is true that your powers have similarities to the stories and they haven’t been seen in any other record I have. It is true that your abilities in the psychic realm are far beyond anything I’ve seen in other trainees of your age. But it is also true that I have seen nothing in you that would lead me to believe we have anything to fear from you. I believe you are no more than you appear to be,” he told her.
He sighed before continuing, “However, there is another part to the old stories that very few have heard but among those that do, notably our council, there may be concern. It is said that when the Puppet Master died the gods brought judgement against him and trapped his own soul in a labyrinth of their making as just punishment for his entrapment of mortal men. But the soul was able to learn even the minds of the gods and escaped to return to the mortal realm.”
Dahlia felt her chest tighten, “Master, you are saying that I may hold this soul?”
Master Ko looked tired, “I am saying that some people take old stories too literally. All we know is that you appear to be developing similar abilities to a man whose true nature was lost in time. But others will jump from that observation into fear and they will label it caution.”
“What will they do with me?”
“Nothing. I suspect a number of people would be upset with me for telling you this, but I have been in discussion with the commander of our forces, Captain Mazaran, as well as the council. Once it became apparent that I could not dismiss your talent or your abilities as anything outside of extraordinary I was bound to report them. Once you have finished here it has been determined that you will join a barrack and be kept under observation. You will be given the title of Puppet Master in an attempt to appease the soul of the original by showing it proper respect in case you and it are one and the same. It is superstitious nonsense in my opinion. Try not to dwell on that bit.”
Dahlia stayed silent for a moment. In any other circumstance she would have been thrilled to find out she’d already been promised a place in one of the barracks, a recognition given to only the best trainees. But to be given that position hand in hand with fear and the title of a demon out of legends…
“Sir, if I were to contain the same soul, would I not know it?”
Master Ko shook his head, “See there lies the mystery. I see no indication that you are anything but what you appear. But others feel this proves nothing for typically souls have their memories erased as they return to the mortal realm and, had you not, they feel you would likely have the power to conceal and deceive.”
She sat silently. Master Ko lit up his face with a kind smile, “Do not let this weigh on you. Nothing will happen for you have shown no indication of having darker motives and many more people will value your strengths and abilities than will fear them. I have let out the secret that you will be assigned to a barrack and you will have incredible potential there. I suggest you let it go, do not let it weigh on you but do take the book and try to experiment with some of what you see there. At the moment it’s the best guide we have to how your abilities may develop.”
Puppet Master…
The name echoed in her mind as did the man’s kindly smile as she looked up from the book and the memories she’d been lost in. She hadn’t been able to follow his wishes. She’d let the name weigh on her and had let fear take root. She bowed her head.
Forgive me, Master, for you were a better teacher than I was a worthy student.
Her door sliding open brought her out of her reverie. She looked up to see Kenny’s grin and felt a small pump of adrenaline.
“You’re out late,” was the first thought that came to her lips.
“Heard you killed all our prisoners since the last time I saw you.” He was joking...at least he’d better have been.
“Two survived. Heard you lost the team member we recovered,” she quipped back without thinking.
“Now where would you hear that? That’s supposed to be classified,” amusement was thick in his voice. “I see Nallia’s empty teapot over there.”
“Did you…”
“Did I what?” he asked, expression staying the same.
“Did you ask Nallia to bring me the tea?”
“Heard a bunch of the prisoners died. Figured you’d be worn out.” He was teasing but Dahlia felt like he was watching her for something. If he had been the one to suggest Nallia bring her tea then had he suggested Nallia tell her about the disappearance as well? She couldn’t think of a way to ask without revealing Nallia had been the one to tell her. It seemed likely but why?
“Thank you, saving the one did take a lot out of me.”
He sat down with her and placed a package on the table. She hadn’t noticed he was carrying anything. He nodded towards it.
“Brought you something.”
Dahlia glanced at him before sliding the package over to herself and opening it. Inside were jet black chains. She arched an eyebrow.
“Thank you? I always wanted something to chain people up in my dungeon with.”
He laughed, “Now that’s an interesting idea. I asked someone to make them for you for your axes. They’re created to attach to whatever you want: each other, the ax handles, your wrists.”
She blushed.
“...so you can throw your weapons and still pull them back,” he continued slowly, clearly enjoying her reaction. “I have one on my sword, it comes in handy.”
Dahlia really was lost for words. The gift must have cost him a great deal. Or else the maker must have owed him a lot. Each link would have had to have been made by hand and crafted to work with the others as part of a whole. That took time, metalwork, and an unusual ability. Give Sabir another hundred years and maybe he’d be that good.
“Thank you,” she managed. She stood up and collected her axes from where she’d laid them. She brought them over to the table and pulled the chains out. With a slight bit of effort she linked the chains to the axes and then to each other. The links shrunk until the chain was about the width of her spread arms. Then she disconnected them and with another bit of effort they wrapped around her wrists and most of the way up her forearms.
The links felt cool against her skin and moved like liquid. They were seamless and the make was easily of equal quality as her axes. She still didn’t know what to say.
“They’re beautiful,” came out at last.
He looked admiringly at them. “They are that.”
Silence stretched between them as she placed her axes back down by the table.
“Nallia’s tea really is better with honey,” Dahlia needed to reconnect her brain, apparently her filter had gone missing.
“She keeps telling me that.” He paused. Then, “Mind if I ask you something?”
“How could I refuse?”
He looked unusually serious. “I didn’t give you those because I wanted something.” He paused again and grinned, ”Not li
ke that anyway. If you don’t want to tell me I’ll get it. It’s just curiosity.”
Dahlia looked at him, “Ok, what is it?”
“Mazaran called you ‘Puppet Master’. Took me a while to remember where I’d heard it from. Isn’t he a boogie man from stories kids tell?”
Dahlia’s mouth went dry. Kenny looked at her curiously, “You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s ok, I’d just been thinking about it. Yes, he’s a creature from old stories. I happen to have abilities similar to his.”
“Like mind control and the extra copies of you?” He seemed comfortable with the idea. Many people reacted to her abilities with fear. It got worse when they made the connection to the ‘boogie man’.
“It’s not really mind control like you’re thinking. I don’t knock down someone’s ability to control themselves and make them walk around like a zombie. Even if I could I couldn’t do it and control my own body at the same time, that’d be like possession or something. It’s more like pushing and pulling the right strings. Whispering in someone’s mind and then pulling on something they already feel or think to move them in the direction you want.”
“What’s it feel like?”
“For me? It’s almost physical. I can sense different channels on someone’s mind and then push or pull them.”
“For the people you do it to.” He seemed simply curious.
“Oh...it depends on how I do it. If I’m gentle and it’s something floating on the surface then nothing but an unusually strong feeling or desire.” She hadn’t meant to tell him all this but she felt something like relief that he didn’t recoil and the relief lubricated her tongue.
“What if you’re not gentle?”
“It can be bad. You saw the archer we caught up to. I can break someone. It’s a violation in a way few people are able to understand or prepare for. Something that’s been so basic you’ve never questioned it--the sanctity of your own mind--is suddenly shattered. It can leave permanent damage.”
“Could you do something to me? Without cracking my skull open.”
“Could I or would I?”
“Will you? If someone likes playing tricks in people’s minds, I’d like to know what I’m looking for.”
She avoided answering his request directly, “Yes, it looks that way. The things he left in his own people were beyond cruel.”
“But you were stronger, you were able to dismantle them?”
“It’s not just strength, though I lean a lot more on strength than I should. Someone with better technique could probably best me. It’s also a difference in my abilities. It’s like, say, the difference between feeling your way through in the dark versus working under a midday sun. When Captain Lenoi was holding back the trap in the prisoners’ minds she had to feel out the destructive energy then push against it. I could actually see a physical representation of it. I could look at its structure and plan how to dismantle it.”
“Will you do something to me? I can’t fight what I’m not able to look for.”
“You wouldn’t ask me to if you knew what it was like.”
“Wouldn’t have to ask if I already knew,” he pushed back.
“Fine,” she said abruptly and stood up. He stayed seated and she walked around the table to him and placed her palm outspread on the table in front of him then one hand on his massive shoulder. She was annoyed. Annoyed at him and at herself. Mostly herself. She’d told him more than she should have because she’d felt relief at having someone not face her abilities with fear. Now he’d asked her to do the one thing that would likely make him look at her the same way everyone else who knew did. She shouldn’t have let herself feel that, should have remembered every other time she’d let someone see too much. She wished he hadn’t asked.
She focused and reached out, very careful not to push him. The shield before her was massive. A simple black wall without cracks or purchases, built from his complete confidence in who and what he was and what he wanted. It was rare to see someone with that level of comfort with themselves. A brute but a happy brute, she thought uncharitably.
She reached out and brushed along the perimeter of his mind, picking up stray thoughts and emotions. His pupils dilated just a bit and his eyes widened as his body reacted to the barely perceptible threat she now posed but he remained still.
She went with something easy that he’d already shown her. She found his lust for her, unhidden and surface level. Her mind whispered to his in his own voice that, if he were to fall to both his knees, surely he could have her again. Then she pushed on the desire to override any barriers that would have held him back.
The massive warrior before her fell to one knee. Then, faster than she could follow he caught her other arm before a second knee could hit the ground. She felt a jolt of the energy that she’d used to push on him feed back into her. She felt her body respond on its own accord; her breath caught as her nipples grew hard and she felt herself drawn forwards. She cut off a soft moan.
She’d never seen anyone able to react so quickly. The energy should have done its work and dissipated before he’d been able to sense it and push it away. She hadn’t realized he was that fast and hadn’t suspected he’d have the awareness to counter what she’d done.
She tried to cool her heart rate and put distance between them. “Not so much a mindless brute after all then,” she said coldly. A psyche rooted in animal instinct wouldn’t have had that acuity.
He rose and closed the distance between them, Dahlia could feel her heart beating in her ears and her body reacting how close he was to her. Gods, she wanted to have him again. Reason, caution were pushed away as he grabbed her.
“Be careful what you promise. I knew that wasn’t my voice,” he growled in her ear. “And I like it when you talk down to me.” The aggression in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. He crouched down in front of her until her head was just barely above his.
“It makes me want to fuck you,” he scooped her up and pressed her body against his. “To see you break like an animal under me.” She threw her arms around his neck as he pressed his lips painfully against hers. She could feel him harden as she pushed her hips against him.
He took her to the bed and dropped her there. He pulled off her clothes then pushed a hand the size of her head against her chest, pinning her back down against the bed. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against her vulnerable skin as he climbed on top of her.
He held her down as he moved his hand down her stomach, between her legs. She suppressed a whimper as his fingers brushed over her clit. He pushed two fingers inside her and she moaned. He watched her throw her head back and rock her hips as he stroked. Then he put his mouth on the sensitive skin below her hip bone and bit into her. She kicked one leg onto his shoulder and pressed him down, guiding his mouth between her thighs.
His tongue was rough as he lapped at her clit and rubbed his fingers into her g-spot. The feeling was just a tease of what she really wanted. The hunger she’d felt for him before returned as he played with her and she felt it grow until it consumed her. She arched into him, trying to move him deeper into her. Finally she thought she’d lose whatever sanity was left in her skull and she gasped out in shallow, uneven breaths, “Kenny, just fuck me.”
He pulled his fingers out of her, tugged his shirt and pants off then pressed into her, hard. Dahlia moaned in satisfaction as he filled and stretched her. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back into the bed until her back arched and her chest was thrust forward for him. He sunk his teeth into her breast, sending delicious pinpricks of sensation running down her body. He thrust into her as she egged him on with her body, eager to feel him deeper inside her. It felt sweeter, more intense with every thrust.
He released her hair and leaned back so his weight was on his knees and her could slide both hands to her hips. He rocked her hips harder against him as the new angle pushed his dick against her g-spot. She cried out and pushed her hands into the headboard to brace herself ag
ainst him as he pushed into her. She felt her need growing even as she had him. It was rough, feral but she wanted it harder, needed to feel more.
She pushed harder against him and cried out frustration, pleasure, and need. He leaned back over her and pressed a hand around her throat as he penetrated her with brutal thrusts of his hips. She felt him moving inside her, his strength overpowering, her body trapped beneath him as her focus narrowed to the overwhelming sensations. She growled and bucked her hips back against him, pushing him as deep into her as he could go, pressing hard against her wall. She loved the feeling, craved it again every time he pulled back. Her body begged for satiation.
Suddenly he pulled out, leaving her frustrated and empty. Her lips pursed and she went to reach for him but he pulled her further down the bed, brought his knees down above her shoulders, and pressed his shins down against her biceps. Her eyes opened wider as he leaned her head up and brought his tip to her lips. She opened her mouth and he slid his dick between her lips. She sucked on him as he thrust in and out of her mouth. The sensation of being dominated made her grow hotter and wetter as she twisted her hips in anticipation. She moaned around his cock.
When she felt like she’d explode if she didn’t feel him inside her again he pulled out, pushed himself back, then flipped her over and pulled her hips up and back so she was on her knees. She cried out as he slammed into her, pulling her hips back as he thrust. She felt him run his hand down to rub her clit as he leaned over her, his breath hot on the back of her neck. He bit down, holding the nape of her neck in his teeth as the strokes of his cock rocked her back and forth and pushed her towards her edge. It was heaven.
Dahlia felt herself building up to a climax. She didn’t want to let go of what she was feeling yet but she couldn’t hold it back. She felt herself release as her back arched into him. He released her neck and she felt him nip along her shoulder as her body shook.
Her tension released as the climax finished and she felt him slow down. She heard his low growl in her ear, “I’m not finished.”
Dahlia: A Novel of Dark Desire Page 11