Enthralled: Book 2: Picking Up the Pieces

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by Prax Venter




  Enthralled: Book 2

  Picking Up the Pieces

  By Prax Venter

  Cover Art by Jaka Prawira

  Copyright © 2018 Prax Venter

  Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, and all characters depicted in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older. Characters with any resemblance to persons that exist now, or have ever existed, are purely coincidental.

  Additionally, the Enthralled series is intended to be read as one continuous story. If you have not read Book 1: The Crystal Heart, this novel will make little sense to you.

  ~ Special Thanks ~

  Steven Allen - For setting me straight on a few things

  Wexley Huntington III – For aiming light into the darkness

  Airamil – For finding what others had not

  - PROLOGUE -

  Meanwhile...

  “Fuck.”

  Vince swore under his breath as he saw the first gate get torn apart by the slashing claws and pressing weight of slightly less than three-hundred, snarling werewolves. The thick, redwood planks splintered before his eyes much quicker than he hoped they would and regretted not spending the money to reinforce them with iron.

  He dug his dusty boots into the dry dirt path as he sprinted uphill to the second gate. Vince twisted to point his pistols behind him, sending bursts of searing hot metal into the surging crowd of fur, claws, and fangs as he ran. He tagged a few of them, fiery particles emanating from their matted fur as the upgraded silver bullets sliced off bits of their health.

  A lucky shot zipped right through one of the bastard's skulls, and the creature went up in flames as dozens more surged around their fallen brethren without a glance, their red eyes focused solely on their prey. Vince allowed himself to celebrate this small victory with a fist pump as the second gate lifted up for him.

  After he passed under the stack of logs that made up the gate, it automatically dropped to closed behind him. Vince quickly raced up the twisting flight of stairs that allowed him access to the stone walls flanking the path and cast a glace up the iron muzzle of the bomb tower he strategically placed at this choke point. A wicked grin grew on Vince's bearded face.

  He knew it was the right call to spend his limited resources on the expensive tower and felt lucky to be pitted against flesh and blood monsters for this wave.

  He jumped the last stair and made it to the top of the wall just as one of his arrow towers locked onto and automatically fired at the first werewolf to come into range. The tower barely did any damage to the hulking, muscular creatures, and it looked like it was going to take about four arrows to bring down just one werewolf. He cursed again, thinking he should have spent the money on one ice tower and slowed them down instead.

  Vince shook off his doubts. He locked both of his pistols down onto the rushing mob and began squeezing the triggers. He didn't have time to lament his current defense, especially since he spent as much as he did to get upgraded ammo.

  Flames licked out from the barrels of his pistols as he rained death down on the vile bastards below. Despite all he had been through so far, he was grateful that he never had to reload his guns. As long as he was able to pull the trigger, they would fire.

  Vince flinched when the bomb tower across from him launched a black, sizzling sphere of destruction down into the crowd with a loud, concussive blast. Just as it landed, a moderate explosion blossomed like a beautiful, orange chrysanthemum. The wall shook under his boots causing a wide, toothy grin to spread across his face. The blast sent about ten of the hairy beasts into oblivion.

  “Yes! Take that, you assholes!”

  And take it they did. Between the three arrow towers, the well-worth-it bomb tower, and his upgraded pistols; Vince was growing hopeful that his carefully planned defenses would stop them all this time.

  Unfortunately, the bomb tower took too long between shots to keep the all the beasts from reaching the gate. He made sure to focus his stinging bullets on the ones digging their horrible, rending claws into the wood and turning his gate into splinters, but once the structural integrity was compromised, it was over. His heart sank like a coin dropped down into a wishing well that had dried up long ago. Vince shot the first werewolf that made it through the gate in its greasy face and took off sprinting along the top of the wall to the third and final gate.

  The bomb tower shook the air with another launched bomb, but the blockage was down, and the creatures were too thinned out now to dismember more than three as they loped past its area of influence.

  The last gate was just before the stronghold and Vince told himself there was still hope that in its narrow hallways and choke points he would be able to keep them at bay.

  Taking up position by the last gate, he wasted precious seconds shaking his head at the three arrow towers he placed here.

  Vince continued to send bullets down into the sea of monsters below as he cast his eyes up to the red, floating numbers waiting for him just outside his periphery. The system knew when his eyes wanted to access the information, and the number, '155', flashed and became, '154', as he watched.

  Turning his eyes back to the horde of monsters below, Vince clenched his jaw tightly and concentrated on his aim. If he weren't focused on getting as many head-shots as possible, he'd notice the dull ache in his teeth from the pressure. His pistols flashed bursts of light in his face, and he lost himself in his work.

  It didn't take the bastards long to tear down the third gate. Vince turned and sprinted forward, trying to make it to the stronghold entrance before the few beasts making their way through the hole could cut him off.

  He checked the count and saw a red, '107', and was actually pretty happy with the damage he caused at the last gate. He wondered if it would be enough.

  Running into the entrance of the plain, stone structure, he made a hard left and ran up the curved stairs to the landing where he could stand against the wooden railing and pop any snarling beasts that stepped inside. The doorway was narrow, and he figured only two would make it through at a time.

  The first, black shadow came into view, and he put a bullet right between its beady, red eyes, causing it to burst into an updraft of swirling embers. He aimed carefully, firing bullet after bullet and got into a steady rhythm. They were coming in one at a time, and all he had to do was fire in relatively the same spot to repeatedly nail the beasts in the face.

  The monsters began to come quicker, and with the entire gate down, they moved as a clump instead of a trickle.

  Vince missed a head-shot and had to put two more into the frighteningly fast creature before it could reach the stairwell. He was falling behind, eventually having to abandon his current position and forced to move further upward.

  Floor by floor he attempted to hold the beasts back with silver bullets, and he found himself standing on the roof, the massive, pale moon staring down at him.

  Shooting into the final stairwell, he risked a glance at the counter. The number '17' flashed back at him, and he knew it was just too many.

  “I was so fucking close!” he yelled into the snarling faces, climbing over each other to reach him.

  With one last head-shot, he turned and dove off of the edge. He let go of his guns as they fell with him, twisted his torso and extended both middle fingers at the werewolves peeking down at him. Not only was he not going to let them have the pleasure of ripping him limb from limb, he just didn't want to go through it again.

  The jagged rocks below slammed into his back sooner than he expected. The pain was a brief, red agony in his mind. Then everything was black.

  “Most unfortunate,” the infuriating, male voice that always sounded like a disapp
ointed, English butler pierced Vince's mind as he hung bodiless in the void between worlds. “I tally 137 victories and 589 losses. A paltry twenty-three percent win rate- you do want to see your two boys again, don't you? They're just outside the ChronoMind capsule, relativity frozen in time, wondering why daddy simply won't wake up.”

  “I'll fucking kill you, Jeeves. I'll rip...” Vince cleared his mind. “Whatever. Can't get to one-thousand wins with you yapping your nonexistent mouth in my nonexistent ears, now can I?”

  “That's the spirit, old chap. The bull by the horns and all the rest. I so enjoy our rousing games of Bastion Tower. Please wait while I randomize scenario data for another match.”

  - 1 -

  "Sasha will pay for what she has done."

  Mark, and his three Enthralled; Ahnix, Vale, and Roo, looked out over the desolate crater that used to be Auxuma Village. He wanted to just start running directly towards the monster responsible for destroying these people. He had been looking forward to seeing this beaten-down group of good people grow and prosper. Now- Donovan, his wife, their asshole son- all of them, were gone.

  “You said we had to fix the broken Heart first, right?” Roo said softly, behind him.

  Mark turned to face the velvet-girl and sighed. “I don't know if we have to- it seemed like the right thing to do. I figured we would run into the holes they created on the way.”

  “Which way does the compass point, Mark?” Ahnix said.

  He looked down at the object he had forgotten he was holding. The glowing, red needle pointed north-east, and Mark held out his hand indicating the closest Crystal Heart fragment.

  Ahnix crossed her arms. “That doesn't help us. We must be closer to a different piece. Regardless, Vale still needs armor and a weapon if we are going to fight anything.”

  Mark looked over at the dejected, giant naga. The sun was just about to slip past the horizon behind them, and her broad, muscular back was awash in the fading light of the orange-red ball of fire. Her shoulders slumped forward, and her long, pure white hair hung down as she gazed into the empty, concave patch of dirt and sand before her. Vale cherished the gifts she had received from the people of this village, but the oversized, leather armor and whip were reduced to ash by dragon fire in Sizor's Pit.

  She turned to face the group. “I know where I can get some good replacement equipment, but I need to come clean about something first. It's time I stopped running from who or what I am.”

  Vale focused on Ahnix. “Mark already knows, I told him just the other day and asked him to never tell anyone my true identity, but I no longer want to hide anything from either of you, Ahnix and Roo.”

  The cat-girl cast a glance at Mark briefly and then focused her attention on Vale again. Roo just stared at the naga with her pure black eyes.

  Vale took a deep breath and then continued, “I am a Princess of the Siv'Shyra Empire. I ran away from my boring life to seek out real danger and excitement. I went looking for a Collector to whisk me away on fairy-tale adventures. But, I am finding out that the real world is... real.” She turned around again and looked out over the empty place the village had been.

  “I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you,” she said.

  Roo walked over to the giant naga and wrapped her soft, fabric arms around her waist from the side. Vale looked down and put her hand on Roo's back, pressing her close.

  Ahnix looked at the ground for a moment and then nodded. “Great, so you must have access to some good replacement equipment. What's the plan? Just undulate right up to the royal throne room?”

  Mark knew Ahnix wasn't going to have a problem with Vale's royal blood, but he wasn't so sure about how she'd react to the deception. He was relieved to find that the cat-girl just moved past it.

  Vale turned her head to look over her shoulder at Ahnix, her perfect eyebrows arched.

  “No. I would like Roo to open a door to my mother's personal chambers.” Roo pulled away, and Vale looked down into her eyes. “I need to speak with her alone. If I were to be seen in public- let's just say it could bring shame to my family.”

  “Vale, how will we get you back?” Mark asked, suddenly nervous about losing contact with his giant naga. “What if you get into trouble?”

  “I just want to talk to her for a bit, explain things. Keep the door open. If it goes bad and she tries to detain me, I'll come back quickly. If she agrees to listen, I'll come back and ask everyone to join me.”

  “I'm not sure I can target a specific room like that,” Roo said.

  “I am very familiar with the layout of the keep. I was hoping if I fed you the details you could get me close enough.”

  “Alright, Princess, let's get this moving along,” Ahnix said, with a shrug. “We've got a succubus to hunt.”

  Vale cringed at her friend's use of the honorific. “Ahnix, please don't treat me any differently. I...” she trailed off as the half-lidded cat-girl walked up to her. Ahnix reached up with one of her claws and hooked it through the giant naga's right nipple-ring. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Vale held her breath, not knowing what to expect. Ahnix gently pulled down, stretching the naga's huge, fleshy nipple and forcing Vale to bend down to her level.

  “Queen outranks Princess.”

  Vale responded, breathlessly, “Yes...”

  Everything was going to be just fine between them. Ahnix retracted her claw and Vale's heavy tit bounced a little as it was released. The elfish naga had a weak smile growing on her face as she watched the black and gold cat-girl turn her back and walk a few steps away from her.

  “Okay,” Mark began. “Ahnix is right, let's get out of here and go back home for now. Get her as close as you can, Roo. We'll be just on the other side, waiting.”

  Roo nodded and held out her hand to the ground. A black door grew out of the dirt and cast a long shadow over the crater behind them. Roo pulled the door open, and they all walked through back to the place they called home, the infinite house dimension where they found the girl in the white mask.

  Both Vale and Roo went into the map room to pinpoint the exact location of her mother's private chambers, while Mark and Ahnix went over to sit on the bed. They had to maneuver around some of the barrels and crates they liberated from Sizor's pit before they made their escape.

  Mark plopped down heavily next to Ahnix who was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed. He let out a puff of air and fell backward, his arms stretched behind him onto the soft mattress.

  “I kinda want to go back and check on the water temple and that feisty squirrel, Sharee after seeing what happened to our friends back there,” he said.

  Ahnix turned back to look at him. “I'm sure that water god and his young nymphs can handle themselves. After that, our trail is obscured. We should be moving forward.”

  Mark looked up into her beautiful eyes with their black, Egyptian-style eyeliner. The wide, flat, gold necklace purchased in the dusty markets of Hanno completed her unique look. His eyes lingered on her tiny, frowning mouth. Her regal expression always seemed to be deeming everything as beneath her.

  He folded his arms behind his head and said, “You sure are so beautiful, you know that?”

  She ran her half-lidded eyes over his chest and down to where his limp junk was creating a bulge in his silk pants. She reached out a soft, warm hand and rested it on top of his penis.

  “I know,” she said, as she turned her attention to the doorway into the map room. “It seems like our runaway princess has grown more mature.”

  “Real loss will do that to a person.”

  Removing her hand, she leaned back on the bed with him and both stared into the wooden rafters above.

  “Have you ever lost anything important, Mark,” she asked.

  “I lost you in the forest that one time when Mother attacked us with vines. Worst two minutes of my life.”

  Ahnix looked over at him. “I'm serious. Tell me about something you lost before we met.”

  He sighed. “Okay, a f
ew years ago I touched a broken magic box. It emitted an electric blast into my hands- kind of like the first day we met in the pyramid. Only in my... home dimension, the healing isn't as good as it is here. I permanently lost all feeling in my hands. I lost my sense of touch. I spent all of my money on a device that would allow me to visit this world- partially because I'd be able to feel with my hands again.”

  Mark felt Ahnix's fingers slip through his, and he turned his head to look into her exotic eyes. Feelings of passion and devotion echoed through their gaze with more potency than mere words could ever convey.

  “Ready to go, master,” Vale said, from the doorway into the map room.

  Ahnix and Mark sat up together, unlinked their hands and made their way over to join the others. When Mark entered the room, he saw Roo already holding her arm out, doing whatever it was she did while searching for a good spot to open a doorway. Vale had wrapped most of the top-half of her body in the brown, fur blanket from Nip's shop, leaving the iridescent, white scales of her lower snake-half uncovered.

  She caught Mark looking at her. “I can't just show up naked.”

  “We really need to get backup outfits for everyone,” he said.

  Roo finished summoning the black door that led out into the world and backed up, making room for Vale to confront her mother.

  Mark leaned against the enormous table with world map painted on it.

  “We'll be here if you need us,” he said. “Good luck, Vale.”

  She nodded, turned the knob and moved through the door. Mark watched her tail slide past the threshold and waited for his giant naga to come back to them.

  Roo looked over to him and said, “Did I hear we get to go shopping again?”

  Before Mark could respond, they all heard Vale yell, “Master?” and all three of them rushed through the doorway, ready to rip apart whatever threatened her.

  Mark saw Vale a few yards away, facing to the right and holding a hand to her mouth. She was in shock by something she saw, and he raced to her side. Roo and Ahnix were on his heels as they all skidded to a halt next to her.

 

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