by Hickory Mack
“I don’t care what Cornick is aware of or what clearance you were given. If my feet are on Earth, she stays with me, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop her,” Elsie told him. Wren smirked, giving weight to her words.
“You’re the strangest, and probably the worst, prisoner I’ve ever heard of,” Hasprey laughed.
“Captive,” Cross corrected him. “She’s not a prisoner.”
The four men didn’t know what to make of that. They believed what they were told by their superiors, and they had no reason not to. But now that another superior was contradicting previous information, they were forced to think for themselves. Hasprey looked deeply uncomfortable with the news, and Elsie completely understood. Saint had forced her to face her cognitive dissonance head on once, too. He’d pulled back a veil so she could see reality instead of the pretty lies.
She touched her chest where she could feel the still healing bond that linked her to the wolfhound. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, her mate was irritated about something. Elsie wished she could soothe him. Saint deserved nothing more than peace and comfort, and she was determined to make it happen, even if it took a while.
His attention turned her way; he must have felt her on the other side of their bond. The link warmed, and some of his irritation melted away. He sent her feelings of complete devotion and longing, letting her know how much he hated being away from her now that they were finally able to be together. Deep into her soul, it hurt. Saint wanted her, but she couldn’t go to him.
“Reaper?”
Elsie blinked, coming back to the world around her. Wren kneeled before her, a concerned look on her face.
“What is it?”
“You dazed off for a minute, and you looked so forlorn. Where did you go inside that pretty head of yours?”
“He’s unhappy,” Elsie answered. She didn’t dare say his name in front of the hunters. If rumors spread that the reaper was talking about a man named Saint, there was no telling whose ears those rumors would reach or what they’d do to him when they found out.
“He’s been unhappy for years. This short time is nothing in comparison,” Wren reminded her. “He should be celebrating. His suffering is coming to an end, and he’ll return to you as soon as he can.”
“You’re right, but it’s a special kind of torture, knowing that what you want is in reach but having to wait. I hate it,” she complained. Wren gazed at her with knowing eyes, a soft expression on her face.
“I am well aware of how it feels.”
Elsie grabbed a bit of Wren’s hair and gently tugged her closer, dropping a light kiss on the spirit’s lips. “You aren’t alone anymore.”
“There is still a distance between us,” Wren said, too softly for the others to hear over the noise of the truck. “I crave the moment our bond forms so I can feel you in my soul.”
She dropped her head into Elsie’s lap, hugging her hips. Elsie petted her hair, wishing she could give Wren what she wanted right then and there. For both Saint and Wren, only time could fix what hurt them most, and she hated every moment of it.
“Hopefully there won’t be a reason for us to be apart anymore by then,” Elsie murmured.
They passed the next hours keeping each other close. Wren fixed Elsie’s hair then fell asleep in her lap. At dinner time, the spirit sat with Frida at her side and watched the reaper practice with the staff.
The following days were more of the same. Travel, eat, drink a vial of elixir with breakfast, practice, and spend a lot of quality time together. Frost had taken to running alongside the truck, boredom driving him in a need to move his feet. Elsie couldn’t blame him. She was itching to get out and move, too. The only thing keeping her sane was the calming proximity of Wren, Frida’s silly antics, and Frost’s continued vigilance and protection.
On the third day, Wren took a branch from the ground and infused it with magic, changing its shape to a stave while making it dense and hard enough to stand up to the staff. Elsie watched with interest, excitement growing in her chest.
“Let’s see how far you’ve come,” Wren said before launching herself at Elsie without further warning.
Elsie dodged out of the way and gave the spirit a bewildered look. Wren attacked again, and Elsie blocked her. “You’re finally going to spar with me?”
“I am.”
Wren jabbed forward, but Elsie blocked it again, stepping to the side to give herself space. “Why now?”
“How are you going to progress if you only practice on your own? You must fight someone better than you to improve.”
Elsie stood a little straighter, her chin lifting slightly. “You think you’re a better fighter than me?”
“I know I am.”
Wren came fast and hard, forcing Elsie to push herself. As Elsie adjusted, Wren moved faster, testing the limits of how far the reaper could go. She struck and whirled, throwing a swing directly at Elsie’s face.
Elsie ducked and slid into the open space Wren left for her, ready to strike, but it was a trap. The way the spirit handled her staff allowed her to pivot the weapon in less than a second, and she received a soft tap on the side of her neck.
“Dead,” Wren said.
Elsie responded by going on the offensive. Adding a touch of magic to the Staff of Sanaia, she separated it into a pair of quarterstaffs. One she used for defense, the other offense. Wren grinned, easily keeping up, but her eyes had turned serious.
Half an hour later, Elsie had died eight more times, and she hadn’t managed to land a single blow on her lover. She panted, sweating profusely, and Wren finally let up, setting her new weapon against her shoulder.
“We’ll go again tomorrow. I expect that you will have made corrections.”
Elsie was already rethinking the sparring session in her head, reviewing where she most needed to improve. “I will.”
“There is no water here. I’ll take you to a place we can clean up,” Wren said. She picked up Frida and set her on Frost’s shoulders. “Take care of our little monster.” Frost curled his lips and jumped to his feet, but before he or Elsie’s security team could react, Wren had her arm around the reaper’s waist, and they were gone.
“You really need to warn me before you do that,” Elsie complained, clutching her stomach.
“It’ll be easier for you once you learn how to do as I’ve asked you.” Wren shrugged. “We can travel your way instead.”
Elsie looked around in shock. The calls of tropical birds were all around them, and the rushing sound of a waterfall was nearby. “Where are we?”
“This was once known as Brazil. It’s what’s left of the rainforest. The humans destroyed most of it, and it’s taking centuries to rebuild itself to the diversity it once had,” Wren lamented. “The small bits of old growth like this one are still as beautiful as they once were.”
Wren took her hand and led her toward the water, the noise growing as they drew closer. Once they left the dense forestation, Elsie went starry eyed. The waterfall was tall, with a deep pool beneath it. Tree branches stretched out over the middle, and large boulders created a near perfect walking path out to the center of the pool. Purple sky flowers outlined in white covered a large section of the far side of the water, dangling so low that some of the flowers floated in the current.
“It’s beautiful here,” Elsie breathed.
“I felt you could use a break, and maybe I can convince you that travel is a good thing,” Wren said mischievously. She reached down and peeled off her dress. “It’s time for you to practice time manipulation, so you’re not in too much trouble when we get back. But it’s not going to be easy for you. I’m going to be doing my best to break your concentration.”
Elsie reached for her, but Wren wagged her finger. “No touching until after you stop time,” she said, backing slowly into the water. Fuck. Elsie called her ethereal magic, looking away from her lover so she’d be less distracted. She enveloped the both of them in her spell and stopped time, but that wa
s the easy part. The hard part would be keeping it that way. Stripping off her robe and then her clothes, Elsie gave chase, but she came to a dead stop before she was knee-deep.
Wren had draped herself over one of the stones and was lazily touching herself, looking at Elsie with half-lidded eyes. They both felt it when Elsie lost her hold on time, and Wren laughed at her.
“You have to do better than that,” she said. Elsie put the spell back in place, rushing it to go faster this time. She waded deeper into the water, looking down to avoid slippery rocks, but her eyes snapped up when she heard Wren moan. She’d slipped two fingers into her pussy, working them in and out with a languid look on her face.
Elsie took a deep breath, trying to concentrate, but then Wren tossed her head back, her long hair floating in the water, her breasts and throat exposed. The spell dropped again, and Wren looked over at her with a sultry smile. Elsie stubbornly put it back in place and continued forward.
Wren sat up and greeted her by pulling the reaper close, wrapping her legs around Elsie’s waist. “What you need to do is use what you learned from your mother and what you worked out for yourself on Molta. Control your emotions without losing them. Feel what you want to feel but remain mentally coherent.”
“Easier said than done,” Elsie sighed as Wren’s fingers pressed between her slit, encircling her clit and rolling it expertly, wringing gasps from Elsie’s lips.
“Focus on your breathing. Long and deep and slow,” Wren instructed, tugging gently, her mouth dropping kisses along her throat between each word. She gave Elsie a gentle push until she took a step back. “Float in the water for me.”
Elsie obeyed, loving the hungry look in Wren’s eyes. She’d never been so exposed to the world, but she loved it. Wren hooked Elsie’s knees over her shoulders and gave the reaper a naughty smile.
“Lay back and enjoy, but keep time in place,” the spirit reminded her. Holding Elsie’s ass up with one hand, she stroked her waist with the other, dipping her head down to run her tongue from one end of her wet pussy to the other. She gently raked her teeth along the inside of her labia, making Elsie shudder.
The sensations were almost too much. The water swirling all around her, the beautiful trees swaying in the breeze above, her lover’s mouth between her legs. Elsie desperately wanted to let go of the spell and dive into the pleasure Wren offered, but she knew if she did, the spirit would stop.
Wren knew exactly what she was doing. Her masterful tongue swirled around Elsie’s clit, and though her muscles wanted to tighten as the heat built in her core, she was forced to stay relaxed or dunk herself under the water. Wren pursed her lips and sucked in while humming, shocking Elsie with an almost painful amount of pleasure. She cried out but managed to hold it together.
“Good girl,” Wren murmured, sliding a finger into her pussy while continuing to suck on her clit. “Don’t lose it.”
This was so much like their last time together, the spirit making her hold off on orgasming until she was allowed, that Elsie was able to calm down much easier. She breathed as she’d been told, letting herself feel everything without focusing on the sweet friction inside of her, and it let her keep her hold on the magic.
Wren added a second finger, and Elsie’s back arched, trying to take more, but she immediately began to sink so she had to stop. It was torture. She wanted to touch back, to taste, to take part, but all she could do was experience. The build up was painfully, deliciously slow, the heat in her core smoldering until Elsie was left shivering with need.
She wasn’t even aware she’d reached her breaking point. Wren’s tongue teased her opening while her fingers kept pumping, and before Elsie knew what hit her, everything blacked out and she saw stars. Her toes curled up, her legs trembled, and the most delicious sensation rippled in a growing wave from her middle to her nipples then up the back of her neck.
When she could see again, she was held safely in Wren’s arms, and the spirit looked entirely too smug.
“What the fuck was that?” Elsie asked, touching Wren’s hair and frowning. “Even my fingers are tingly!”
“A full body orgasm, sweet one,” Wren told her.
“I’m going to have sex with you every single day of my life,” Elsie muttered, and Wren laughed.
“Do you promise?”
“Every. Day.”
Wren kissed her gently then helped her stand upright. “We have to get back. You lost your hold on time, and they’ll start looking for you soon.”
“Those bastards,” Elsie complained, but she couldn’t even pretend to be angry. Every muscle in her body was relaxed, and her mind was nothing but blissful peace. Wren laughed at her again and led her back to shore.
The spirit picked up her clothes and made a face. They still smelled like sweat. The convoy hadn’t exactly given anyone enough time to wash their clothes. At least her robe was self-cleaning. Gods bless her mother for creating the darn thing with practicality in mind.
“You need something new to wear.” Wren shook the shirt, using her magic to transform it into a purple and black, sleeveless corset, with buckles and lace and string tying the top together. Next, she took Elsie’s shorts and gave them the same treatment, coming up with a sexy pair of black hot pants.
“That is an incredibly convenient talent,” Elsie praised, pulling on the shorts. They fit perfectly and gave her ass a slight lift. The shirt was like a second skin and incredibly revealing. She gave the spirit an exasperated look. “Are these the clothes you imagine me in?” She laughed, but Wren’s face was far too serious. She waved her hand in the air and tossed a black bolero jacket at her.
Elsie obliged her lover and put it on before pulling on her boots. Wren’s lips twisted into a frown, and she touched the tops of her boots, trailing her finger up Elsie’s thigh, stopping several inches below the shorts. The boots changed, becoming soft and supple thigh-highs with buckles and straps to match the corset. The only skin left bare was a few inches of her thighs and her chest. Wren finally nodded her approval.
“Let me clothe you from now on,” she begged.
“First my hair, now my clothes? I am perfectly capable of clothing myself,” Elsie snorted.
“Then we can collaborate! When I see what you usually like to wear, let me make adjustments to it,” Wren pleaded. Elsie bent over, crouched, and rolled her shoulders. She had to admit that everything moved perfectly, giving her a full range of motion.
“Alright.”
“Yes!”
They returned to Frost’s quiet anger. He could have returned to the cuff at any time, but it would have meant leaving Frida behind, and he’d grown too fond of the alebrije to do that. Elsie swore to make it up to him, but he returned to the truck, ignoring her completely.
“If you do that again, I won’t cover for you,” Cross warned when they climbed in after him. Elsie was too relaxed to hate his handsome face as much as usual.
“Okay,” she said simply, taking her seat. A few minutes later, their truck rolled on, speeding faster than usual to catch up with the rest of the convoy, which had left without them. There wasn’t any more time for them to screw around anyway. The next morning, they’d arrive at their first destination.
Chapter 27
It was early morning, but the first trucks were already being loaded when they arrived at the hunters’ nest of Prosperity Colony Nine. They’d stopped outside of a large two-story white building, but the egress window wells suggested there was quite a lot more underground.
The name fit the colony well; this nest was certainly the most prosperous Elsie had ever seen. On their way through from the barrier, they’d all taken notice. Everything, from the neat houses and perfect lawns, screamed affluence. It made her wonder what the hell these specific people did to deserve lives so much easier than the other nests and colonies. From what she remembered, Prosperity had a mining nest, but coal wouldn’t bring this level of wealth.
Frost stood next to Elsie as they watched the empty cages fill
with hundreds of earth and metal-affiliated demons. All of them had the same dazed expressions as the demons already traveling with them. Cornick must have been spreading his misery all over the place.
It made sense now. The reason Prosperity had so much wealth stood right in front of her. Some of the demons looked wrong. It was all the more noticeable since they were sequestered in separate cages from the rest.
There was a raccoon demon who should have been the picture of adorable mischief, but instead, she was altered. She had horns and wings, and instead of a fluffy ringed tail, it had the whip-like tail of an imp. This poor girl had been turned into a chimera. The Hunter Clan was basing their genetic experimentation here. Of course ludicrous amounts of money were being thrown the colony’s way.
The long Elsie looked, the more evident it became that there were more chimeras in the group. The vast majority were typically harmless creatures that had been crossed with something far more deadly. A kappa crossed with a goblin, creating a monstrous creature with dead eyes that should be glittering with intelligence. A magpie demon, which was affiliated with both earth and metal, crossed with a dryad, making Elsie wonder how they were even managing to control something like that. Dryads were far scarier than most people gave them credit for.
Elsie’s feet moved of their own accord, drawing her closer to the sad souls before her. These poor creatures were not only under some sort of mind control, but apparently some kind of performance enhancer. Many of them were unnaturally muscled, and creatures that wouldn’t normally have claws were sporting razor-sharp nails at the ends of their fingers.
There was also something wrong with their magic, like it was suppressed somehow. Elsie stopped in front of one of the cages, unable to look away. Their faces were so devoid of emotion, except one. A small demon, she looked young, and though her face was just as blank as the others, tears streamed down her cheeks. Subdued as she was, the demon was at least somewhat mentally aware of her situation.