The Enforcer - Book 1: An Urban Fantasy Serial for KU (The Enforcer by J.E. & M. Keep)

by J. E. Keep

  Taken quite by surprise with her abrupt push and the way she squirmed out from beneath him, his amber eyes went wide. Slipping from her wetly he went to the edge of the bed, eyes moving around in surprise.

  “Just like that?” He seemed quite put out by it all, flustered, his face blushing red.

  She looked over at him, confusion plain on her face, her eyebrows tilting upwards. It was, admittedly, taking her longer to decide what was real and what was fake, but she was pretty certain he was whining about just getting used. She blinked away the confusion.

  “What? You can come back another day. Not like I'm going anywhere,” she said.

  If that was supposed to be reassurance to him, he didn't seem to take it as such. Perhaps his ego was bruised? Nevertheless he stooped to pick up his things, beginning to dress, starting with his underwear and pants. There was a mix of the pitiful pout and a crooked frown on his face as he began to dress.

  “Another day?” he said, either in question or in mocking distaste.

  She leaned back on the bed, feeling the stickiness of his and her sweat combined on her flesh and finding it to be rather titillating as cum dribbled from her pussy.

  “Unless you can go again now,” she offered, her eyes moving to him. “Or if you want to clean your cum from me.”

  At that, he gave her a look. Distaste for her a bit perhaps, or at the latter offer, and a helping of crankiness at his bruised ego.

  “Can I stay the night if I perform?” he asked, sounding a bit peeved still, though pausing the doing up of his pants.

  She stared at him for a moment, taking the time to sort through the drug-confused question.

  “You don't have a place to stay?” she asked after another pause. Her black eyes were trained on him, her body splayed atop the bed. Sweat dew beaded along her flesh, creamy liquid running down her crack and onto the bed.

  Tilting his head, his hair was a bit rustled, though it only seemed to add to his appeal, making him look dishevelled.

  “Nooo, I just got here, and ah... as you recall, I was robbed,” he said.

  She relaxed back, shifting slightly in her bed, a light frown to her purple lips. She did remember something about that, she thought. Still.

  “I didn't offer you a place to stay,” she mumbled, then sat up. “But,” her eyes narrowed, even as she made the offer, “If you're nice I'll let you stay in the jail the night. Who knows, come morning, that might be the safest place for you. Bonus is that it's across the hall and almost never used.”

  The offer she gave didn't seem to really please him, though he shifted back to the bed, his cock still a bit stiff and poking from his pants. He knelt on the edge, leaning onto his palms and looking at her seductively.

  “I'll keep you feeling good the whole night if you let me stay here... clean you up... real nice,” he said smoothly.

  She groaned lightly at his insistence.

  “For fuck’s sake. It's the jail or the street, take your pick. I'd rather not lose all my belongings for the sake of a fuck, boy,” she groaned as she tilted and relit her cigarette. “You're lucky you caught me in such a nice mood to offer you that.”

  Feeling he had pushed her near her limit, he pulled back, standing up straight again, with just one knee on the bed. He sighed and nodded.

  “Alright then,” he shrugged. “Ah suppose it'll do.”

  “Damn right it will. Fuck, it's not like I'm going to lock you in there and let you starve to death. Though I'd recommend lettin' yourself be locked in. Keeps the freaks out, you understand?” she looked at him through lidded eyes, “Better inside than out.”

  Seeming to recompose himself, he ran a hand back through his thick head of golden hair, “Alright, madam. Alright, you've made your case. Though I prefer not to be locked into anything.” He flashed her another one of his charming smiles, “I do enjoy my freedom quite a bit, ah'll have you know.”

  She nodded, took another toke, then snuffed out her cigarette.

  “Me an' you both. And it's not like you weren't fine,” she finished. “I just don't spend the night. Ever. With anyone. Ever.”

  His smile was a bit strained.

  “Ah undahstand you, madam.”

  Whether he was pleased with her understanding or not, however, was up for debate. He finished doing up his pants, and bent down to reach for his shirt.

  She stood slowly, cum dribbling down the inside of her thighs. She offered him a feral smile, “You'll be staying out of trouble from now on, won't you Hugh?”

  Nodding to her as he pulled his shirt on over his arms, he flashed her a wink. “Ah course. Clean as a whistle, you'll be able ta say about me,” he said with that eastern drawl.

  “Right,” she said as she moves toward the door, unlocking the deadbolt, standing ready for when he was fully dressed. She, on the other hand, grabbed for a slick negligee from the nearby dresser.

  “How long are you staying?” she asked.

  Buttoning up his shirt, he tucked it in before plucking up his hat, placing it on his head suavely, then tossing his jacket over his shoulder.

  Looking around to her he declared nonchalantly, “Why, with how wonderful this here slice of heaven has been, I don't know how I could ever think of leavin' madam.”

  She smirked wryly, enjoying his sense of humor.

  Grabbing her pistol from where she had stashed it, she opened the door and shooed him out in the direction of the hall, reaching for her satchel as she moved out after him.

  He swaggered out the door as if he was quite the victor in the whole affair. There were no comers and goers at the moment in the grungy hallway, and so he strode out and pivoted on a heel to look back at her, waiting.

  Locking the door behind her, she moved across the hall and, with a different key, opened the door to the small jail.

  The 'jail' was just a refurbished apartment. There was the main room with an unused desk crammed against one corner, and a series of five cells, all of which were quite tiny, and containing only a small bed and a hole, which was no doubt used for defecation. Hugh curled his upper lip at the sight, the small barred window near the door the only light outside.

  “Ugh,” he groaned.

  “Trust me. Better than the streets and likely the best a new guy in town with no cash is going to get for the night,” she reassured him, as though that were reassuring. “Everyone holds onto their stuff here. As much as they can. If you can't do that, might be best you head back to wherever you came from.”

  With a sigh, and a resigned expression, Hugh moved into the room and casually looked about before tossing his jacket onto the desk in the corner.

  “Very well,” he said. Turning back to her, he took a bow, “Thank you for the hospitality then, madam. I shall remember such kindness always.” A hint of sarcasm was in his voice.

  “Yea, well, don't mention it. You'll come to appreciate it the longer you stay here,” she said, looking at him for a moment. “You don't want me to lock the door?” she motioned her head to it.

  Shaking his head, he tousled his hair before turning to her.

  “I'll cram the desk up in front of it for my own safety. How's that sound?”

  “Alright,” she said, resigned, tired from all of the talking. She wasn't used to it.

  “Sleep well, Hugh,” she bid him, giving him a nod before turning and closing the door behind her. It didn't take long to hear the scraping of wood on wood as the desk was shoved into place by the door, though a slight cursing mutter was soon to follow.

  She returned to her room, locking the door with the deadbolt before letting her pistol down on her bed, followed by her precious bag. Stripping off her nightgown, she took a deep inhale of the lingering scent of sex in the air, enjoying it and frowning at it all at once.

  Chapter 4

  Her eyes didn't flicker open — they bolted open — and she sat straight up in bed as though she had woken from a nightmare. Still, though, her heart didn't pound, adrenaline didn't catch her breath. She just look
ed ready. Alert. Moving quickly to prepare for what was, no doubt, going to be a trying day.

  She pulled on slick black leather that clung to her body and allowed for easy movement. She followed the leather with hard boots, a belt and a holster around her waist. She pulled back her hair into a bun — out of her face and it couldn't be grabbed — and started preparing. Two pistols on either holster, strapped in, a sawed off shotgun in hands. She tucked everything important in her room into her pouch and shoved it between her breasts. She was ready to face the crowds.

  The sky was another shade of red. The desert sands around the city always seemed to give it a reddish hue, but it was most pronounced at sunrise and sunset. As she emerged from her building, everything seemed calm at first. A few orcs and other brutes, shoulders hunched, were trudging to work at that early hour, but many more were still not awake, laid over from a night of drinking and drug use. Stepping out from her room, she heard a soft voice from behind her.

  A young boy.

  “Hey lady,” he said, drawing her attention to him. If he was a man, it was only barely. He was youthful and pristine by appearance. More noticeable than that, however, was the fact he seemed to be part satyr. Wearing some shredded trousers that resembled shorts, his legs were a smooth, glossy brown. His face was the same colour, shiny and smooth as he beamed up at her. Those legs, however, ended in cloven hooves, and upon his head he sported two tiny black horns, barely nubs, before his shaggy brown tussled hair began.

  “Got any coin to spare? Maybe a snack?” he asked. The truly desperate did start early in this city.

  She shook her head at him, feeling not even a tinge of pity for the boy. He'd likely have it pretty rough, and she shook her head knowing this. She wasn't paid enough to be offering every cute kid some food.

  “Naw,” she said quickly so as not to waste his time as he gazed up at her with dark, green eyes. “Try near the store,” she suggested, moving past him with a breezy, dismissive motion. She had to prepare for the chaos.

  As she hustled off, the young boy came after her, his dark hooves clacking upon the roadway behind her. Undaunted by her refusal, he seemed only genuinely curious now.

  “Where ya headed too, lady?” he asked. Nowhere near her towering height, he followed along, a sleek dark tail whipping behind him from out of his shaggy jacket.

  “Somewhere you don't want to follow, kid. Move along.” Her voice was hard, rich and leathery, commanding as she continued on her way towards the apartment complex. She figured it would be the first to see violence.

  Clacking along on his small hooves at a scurrying pace, he continued to talk, undaunted by her closed of demeanor and quick steps.

  “Oh. Strange to see so many folks actually in a rush to get somewhere so early in the morning. Don't usually see that, lady.”

  “Yea, well if you're gonna eat today, you best start hustlin', kid. Away from me.” She shot him a stern glare with her white-on-black eyes, her voice taking on a dangerous lilt, “Scram.”

  The teen wilted a bit at the harsh scolding, his oval eyes turning downwards beneath his shaggy dark brown hair. He stopped, falling further behind her.

  “Just wondered if there was somethin' goin' on today that had you and those orcs all rushin' off in such an excited hurry...” he said with a pout.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, “What do you mean, orcs?”

  He perked up again. “Big ones. Talkin' real loud. Looked angry!”

  He smiled a little, seemingly glad to have her attention with his news. “Usually those types are all groggy and sleepy this early. You know how orcs are,” he said, which was quite true. Orcs were more night creatures, and disliked the dawn of day by nature. “Stuck right out.”

  “Aw for fucks...” she frowned, looking around, “Where'd they go?” she asked. She looked down at the teen, having stopped her frantic walk, waiting for more information before choosing a direction.

  His innocent smile seemed to widen before her. His face had a certain quality to it, came down in an even arc to a somewhat pointed chin, the wide, white-toothed grin only amplified it. Slowly he began to extend a hand out towards her, palm up and dark little fingers wriggling a bit. He swayed his hips, dark little tail curling and coiling behind him. It was obvious what he wanted — he wasn't as youthfully dumb as he appeared it seemed.

  Fuck, she hated beggars. Her eyes narrowed down at him further, her hands hoisting her rifle, tilting it for him to see.

  “Kid, I'm kind of in a rush, and I'd hate to spoil that face of yours. I might want to see it again in a few years, so just tell me where the fuck the uppity orcs were headed.” She leaned in, “Now.”

  He seemed a bit taken aback by her violent outburst, though he sealed his lips tight and shook his head slowly. “Lady, I got a sister who needs to eat... bustin' my face in ain’t the greatest of my worries.” He was resilient, the young scrapper.

  She scowled at the boy, even as she tugged the bag between her breasts — careful never to let it into his grabbing range. She pulled out a single, small coin, holding it over his head.

  “Tell me,” she demanded.

  Reaching out and trying to snatch the coin he said, “They went off that way.” He pointed off to the north, toward the edge of town.

  “Super,” she dropped the coin, immediately moving in the direction he pointed in as she tucked the bag back between her breasts. What the fuck is this all about? She was in a sour mood for it being so early. She figured her day was going to be shitty, but not this shitty.

  Pleased to have the coin, he clutched it in both hands before tucking it away in some inside pocket.

  “But!” he called out after her loudly.

  Her head tilted back in annoyance before she cast him a glance over her shoulder.

  “But?” she asked loudly, stopping in place.

  Clip-clopping up to her softly again, he spoke a bit quieter.

  “But...” he repeated, sounding almost conspiratorial, “They said they was going to show the 'big shots' who was in charge around here, and that they'd be pickin' up something on the outside of town before heading off to the big buildings. You know what that means, lady?”

  She looked towards the towering skyscrapers that marred the skyline of the city. The bosses’ buildings.

  Her eyes could not possibly be more narrowed as she took off in a sprint, rifle in tow, headed north.

  Sometimes she really hated her job. How could they already know about the rent increase? It wasn't even light yet! Who the fuck told them without even giving her time to prepare? Morning meant after sun up!

  Her stupid fucking sexy boss...

  She cursed as she misstepped, tripping over some upended bit of stone in the road, then carried on at an increased pace. Her long, muscular legs carried her fast.

  She hoped their race and their numbers would slow them down against her more agile gait.

  Chapter 5

  The run took her through the grim streets, the rising sun bringing with it increased traffic. There were many types of orcs looking to be on their way to more drudgery, none seemingly in a rush about it quite yet. If this was the way the orcs were headed, they weren't quite here yet.

  She cursed, loudly, looking around at the passersby, seeing no panic or anger on their face and wondered for a moment if the kid had her on. If maybe he was paid to show her in the wrong direction. Really, it wouldn't be above or beyond, well, anyone in these slums.

  Some days she hated her job. Today was one of those days.

  Milling around looking as she was, few seemed to stand out of the crowds.

  A tall half-ogre pushing along, knuckles dragging, in one part. A very large, furred beast of a man on one sidewalk, looking to be snarling and trying to shove his way through, just barely on the verge of using its razor like claws. It looked like some sort of feral bear-like demon the way it was moving, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

  The city was filled with misfits and miscreants of so many specie
s, half-breeds and demons galore. It was why Zwi felt so at home. There wasn’t many places she could freely move about, let alone rule in a small part.

  All about her was the dregs of the town. Orcs moving in every direction, though mostly towards the center of town.

  Looking around and toward the direction of her boss’s place, she knew she needed, at least, some fresh information. Some new intel.

  Preferably not the bought kind. She hated having to spend her meagre allowance on actually doing her job, though sometimes it was unavoidable.

  She glanced over at a particularly unique orc-like fellow seemed to be moving a bit briskly. Unlike the greenish skin of most orcs, however, his was almost monochromatic. He had a sleek, almost scaly bald head, and a sleeker forehead.

  She moved towards him, figuring, hey, he was kind of an orc. Maybe he knew.

  “Hey!” she called out loudly over the crowds, moving briskly toward him with long strides.

  The tall and broad fellow looked toward her sharply, his eyes a deep red as he appraised her with some surprise. Noting the guns and the way she carried herself, he turned around, giving a strange look to the men behind him. His eyes darted to them, then back toward the center of town.

  Moving off from the others, while the rest continued on their way, he stood his ground. He was topless, his smooth, lightly muscled chest bared, tusks showing as he crossed his arms over his torso.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I heard some orcs were on their way to make some noise,” she said in that stern voice, her eyes not leaving him for a second as she measured him up. “Where are you on your way ta this morning?”

  The bald man's eyes went twitching back toward the center of town up ahead before shaking his head at her.

  “We're always makin' some kinda noise, missy,” he responded a bit contemptuously.

  Her eyes narrow at the word 'missy,’ her dark eyelids contracting into slits.

  “You best watch your language,” she said with a deadly sneer. “Tell me what's happening this morning before I make an example of what happens to orcs who call me Missy.”