Blown Away

by L. J. Vickery

  Ishkur put on water for tea, then paced, not knowing what else to do while he waited for Charlie.

  He went over and over the scene in his head, and couldn’t dispute what he’d witnessed. What he couldn’t do, was make sense of it. He had seen three very bad men ready to take advantage of a bound and blindfolded woman.

  If he hadn’t been with her tonight, she most assuredly would have been forced to suck at least one cock, and who knows what other depravity might have taken place. So why had Charlie spoken up for her ex-husband? Ishkur almost wished he hadn’t listened. Now he waited for an explanation.

  Charlie came into the kitchen looking young and uncertain in a pair of cartoon character pajama bottoms and a loose cotton shirt. She took the cup of tea Ishkur offered and sat at the sterile stainless and glass countertop.

  “Will you sit?” she asked. “I don’t like looking up at you, standing so tall and rigid.”

  Ishkur nodded. She didn’t know him well enough to understand he’d never hurt her. He slowly walked to the tall stool opposite Charlie and sat down.

  “I, umm, first want to thank you for intervening tonight.” She pushed a piece of hair out of her face and blew on her cup.

  A strange choice of words. Ishkur would have used the term “save” in her position, but he let it pass.

  “I didn’t know what Hal had planned, or I never would have gone to his house tonight.”

  Well that was some comfort. At least she didn’t have a death wish.

  She took a deep breath and words spewed forth. “Ten months ago, when I left Hal, I knew I had to get away from him. For Maity and for myself.” She licked her lips and took a long sip of tea.

  “Hal had gotten in deeper and deeper with his bookies, and hinted to me that there were ways I could help him out of his troubles.” She looked Ishkur right in the face.

  “You won’t like this, but I can’t leave anything out. I have to be honest.”

  Why did she appear jittery and nervous? Ishkur’s gut clenched.

  “Before I got pregnant, Hal and I were into a few kinky things. We did some bondage, a little S&M, nothing violent or over the top, but stuff I liked, and I refuse to apologize for that.” She raised her chin.

  Ishkur nearly groaned. Where was this leading?

  “While I was pregnant, we stopped anything that might harm the baby, and out of necessity, our sex life turned very vanilla.”

  Interesting choice of words. Ishkur kind of got the picture.

  “Hal wasn’t happy about it, but he accepted the situation. Or at least I thought he did. But at a certain point, he started going out. Every night. I became aware that he was drinking and gambling. I even found out that he was finding his kink outside the house, but as long as he didn’t try anything with me that might harm my pregnancy, I let it go.” The rest of her story tumbled out.

  “Once Maity was born, Hal wanted to start things up again, and I couldn’t. I didn’t. He’d lost his appeal to me. He’d had other women. He’d gotten sloppy and out of shape. I told him I wouldn’t have sex until he got tested for STDs, which apparently took too much effort, so he never did. That was fine by me. It meant I didn’t have to get near him. He always smelled bad, like beer and cigarettes.”

  Ishkur couldn’t help himself. He broke in. “Why didn’t you leave him?”

  Charlie turned pain-filled eyes to his. “I didn’t want to give up on the marriage with Maity being little. I thought maybe we could find help. And besides,” Red stained her pale cheeks. “He knew about my submissive sexual needs, and I couldn’t fathom opening up about that part of myself to someone new if I left Hal.”

  Ishkur tried to understand. “Go on.”

  “Hal bitched about the money he owed to a bunch of scary guys, and somehow, somewhere along the way, he decided I was his ticket out of his financial woes. One night, he told me a couple of guys he owed money to would be coming over to take part in a little bondage session. With me as the main event. They’d use some of our equipment, and do a little ménage. Hal told me that I had to do it for him, for us. That they’d threatened his life, as well as mine and Maity’s. I completely flipped out on the inside, but I stayed cool with him. I let Hal think I understood and that it would be okay.” Charlie swallowed hard.

  “A little while later, as nonchalantly as I could, I told him that Maity and I were headed to the park. I walked out the door with my purse and the clothes on our backs, and kept walking all the way to Ken’s house.” She sighed. “My brother welcomed us, not knowing any of the details except that Hal had put us in danger with his gambling, and we’ve been here ever since.” Charlie looked worriedly at Ishkur, “Please…don’t tell Ken any of this. He’ll kill Hal.”

  Ishkur nodded, but damned if he and Ken wouldn’t be on the same page.

  “Hal is a coward. You saw that tonight. And once I got out from under his reach, he never tried to bother me while I’ve had Ken’s protection.” Charlie held the warm cup up against her cheek.

  “I think he must have been watching the house, and figured out that Ken is off on assignment. He told me tonight he knew we’d been alone for a while. That’s why he dared to ask if he could see his daughter on Christmas Eve.” Charlie sighed and kept looking at Ishkur, who kept his face in an unmoving mask.

  “I really should have known better, I guess.” Charlie put the cup down, and gave a weak groan. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

  “Damn right, you won’t.” It took Ishkur everything in him not to pitch something against the wall. If he were Enlil, he would have. Instead, he clenched his hands and gave her an edict. “In five hours, you’re coming back to the East Coast with me. And you’ll be staying. For as long as I deem necessary to ensure your safety.” He wouldn’t scare her and tell her she wasn’t ever coming back. There’d be plenty of time for that later.

  “Ishkur, do you get what I told you before, about how my sexual needs played into this?”

  Charlie clearly expected censure from him about her lifestyle, but Ishkur was no saint. He had no right to judge.

  “It’s not my place to say what’s right and wrong between two consenting adults, Charlie.”

  “That’s because you’re normal, Ishkur, and I’m not sure why, but it’s important to me you understand. What you just said is true. My lifestyle choice is okay between two consenting adults. But Hal took it way over the line tonight. If I gave him any indication that what he attempted tonight was okay, then it was my fault. I apparently didn’t set good boundaries. But I want you to at least know, I like dominant men, not assholes.”

  Lucky for Ishkur, Charlie had been blindfolded during his grand entrance into Hal’s home tonight. Because if she hadn’t been, she would have seen how dominant he could be. Once Charlie found out about gods, she’d realize a little sexual submissiveness was no cause for alarm. But clearly now was not the time for Ishkur to tell Charlie about immortals. However, he’d set her straight on her asshole ex.

  “Charlie.” He took her hand across the table and held it tightly. “There is no way anything that happened tonight was your fault.” Charlie tried to interrupt, but Ishkur didn’t let her. “I may not know much about the kind of relationship you had with Hal, but I do know situations like those have to be based in trust. A true dominant takes care of the person he has for a partner, and does everything for her ultimate pleasure.”

  Ishkur hadn’t missed one thing Lenore had told him on the subject over the past few months.

  “Once that bastard tried to share you with his buddies, you shut him down. That was a threshold you wouldn’t step over, and he should have listened. But he broke trust with you by forcing you into a situation you didn’t want. That’s on him.” He repeated himself. “Nothing about tonight was your fault. Do you understand me? That prick never gave you an option. He took away the trust.”

  Charlie lowered her head. “Thank you, Ishkur.” Her voice sounded subdued, yet relieved. “Thank you for not judging me.”


  He lightened things up purposefully. “I’ll judge you if you keep us from catching our plane.” He drew her to her feet. “So off to bed, and no bitching when I wake you up in a few hours.”

  She gave him a tentative smile over her shoulder and walked to her room.

  Damn. Ishkur was too old for this shit. He couldn’t wait to get home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Early morning sun filtered through the bare trees and skipped across the crisp new snow. Enlil stood looking out the window. He was the first one up, but he wouldn’t be alone for long. The smell of coffee brewing wafted through the kitchen and rose with the heat off the venerable steaming radiators to drift upward, where corporeal gods and goddesses would soon be enticed below stairs by the aroma.

  Enlil experienced a vague unease. If Tess hadn’t gone to this much trouble making Christmas morning something special, he would have slipped back to LA right now and assured himself that Candy was okay. It made no sense. She was a big girl and had been handling her life just fine before he came along. But something inside of him curled and uncurled in visceral unease. He just couldn’t seem to shake it.

  This had to be the feeling the mated gods talked about. The one that took over when they weren’t with their Chosen. He told himself it didn’t mean anything in particular. It was just a god’s body craving its other half. But the reality was, he hadn’t mated with Candy yet, so why this disturbing gut reaction?

  He stepped from the kitchen into the vast living room with its new focal point—the enormous balsam fir decorated with gold ornaments, silver garlands, and red velvet bows. It towered easily fifteen feet to where a white, feathered angel graced the highest peak.

  Enlil fumbled in his pocket and drew out his hand, adding a small ornament to the branches. It was a carved wooden cradle holding a tiny baby covered in a woven blue blanket. An ornament for Tess. She’d really like it. His fingers disturbed the needles, and the heady fragrance released, calming him.

  By the time sleepy immortals tumbled into the room, coffee clutched in warming hands, Enlil had himself back under control.

  Enten advanced around the room and lit a plethora of candles; some glowed from glass jars, others perched on elaborately decorated bases, and some fine tapers elegantly pointed upward from sterling candelabrum. Flames rose in a myriad of scents and the result was slightly intoxicating.

  Marduk bent to light the already laid fire as the balance of the deities and mortals made their way into the room.

  None had bothered dressing. As requested by Tess, pajamas and robes were de rigueur, and on every foot were fuzzy, plush slippers. Even the witches and Kate, who had made their way through the snow from one of the cottages, carried their scuffs, along with a wildly protesting black cat, in a deep canvas bag.

  Wizarr leaped from confinement as soon as the tote came open, and claiming a prime spot on the hearth next to the roaring fire, huffily licked and cleaned himself.

  Trays filled with colorful donuts and morning pastries suddenly appeared on end tables, and Enlil didn’t wait for permission. He dug in with relish, strewing all manner of sprinkles and powder across the floor. Archie the dog nudged his foot, then his knee aside, unearthing and devouring the small dropped morsels.

  Lenore tuned in the large television to fill the air with Christmas music at a soft volume that allowed Tess to be easily heard.

  “Merry Christmas everybody.” She positively beamed with good cheer. “We have many wonderful things planned for today, I wouldn’t doubt it a bit if we don’t finish up until late tonight.”

  Enlil stifled a groan. It wasn’t that he hadn’t caught the spirit of things here in the Blue Hills, just that now―with the collar in hand―he had a very difficult time keeping his mind off Candy, and what he’d be doing to her if he could get out from underneath Tess’s proposed itinerary.

  “To start things off…”

  The air suddenly grew thick with god energy. Nergal and Ereshkigal appeared.

  “Your majesties,” Tess squealed. “I’m delighted you could make it.” Tess had sent them an invitation, but there’d been no response.

  The queen quickly approached Tess and grabbed her arm as Marduk’s wife wobbled into a very awkward, pregnant curtsy. “No need for any of that.” She waved a hand airily around. “Consider us family for today.” Enlil looked questioningly at Nergal, who smiled benevolently and nodded his agreement.

  “Yes, wind god. You can drop the titles for the holiday,” he allowed. “We’re Nergal and Eresh today, and I must say,” he looked around the ornately decorated room, “I’m looking forward to seeing what this Christmas thing is all about. Where do I put these Yankee items?” The big god king held up several packages, and Tess pointed to a pile under the tree where he quickly deposited them.

  The queen actually giggled. “And don’t think we did the wrapping. I tried and ended up with tape stuck together in every wrong place. I had Lavarette do the honors.” Ereshkigal spoke about one of the glowies whom they employed in the Underworld.

  Enlil, as much as he enjoyed the king and queen’s ignorance of the holiday, was almost equally at a loss as to how things would proceed. Although he’d seen Christmas done on television, none of the gods in the Blue Hills had participated in the Christian holiday before.

  Back in their Merrymount days, the humans had gone their own way to celebrate while the gods kept to themselves. The only one who had participated, because of family, had been Ishkur, and today he was absent.

  “Let’s get the Yankee swap going,” Tess enthused. The arrival of royals didn’t throw her off her game.

  She walked around the room and had everybody pick a number out of a cup, placing a matching number in another container. She even included the invisibles on this one. They’d each contributed to the pile of presents.

  When everyone became settled, Tess pulled a slip and called out a number.

  “That’s mine,” Nergal coughed, looking uncustomarily disconcerted he had to go first.

  Tess patted his arm to reassure him. “Just go pick out any present under the tree, but not one you brought,” she said brightly. He walked up to the pile, picked one, shook it, then put it back down. Tess’s mouth dropped open.

  “Nergal,” she said accusingly. “No using your powers to look inside.”

  Enlil and some of the other guys sniggered. The king looked duly chastised, then with his eyes closed snagged a different gift from the jumble.

  “I believed the idea was to get something I want,” he groused.

  “No. That’s not the point.” Tess gentled her voice at his displeasure. “You’re supposed to open one package, then see if you want to trade with someone who has something you want.”

  “But no previous offerings are available.” He scowled, clearly confused. He would be the first to open a package.

  “That’s true,” Tess assuaged. “But you’ll have an opportunity later to trade, and perhaps others will want what you have.”

  “Quit griping Nergal and open the present already.” Dagon clearly wanted to get on with things, and refused to handle the sovereign with kid gloves.

  Nergal tore off the wrappings with only one cold, killing look in Dagon’s direction, then held up his item. “And these would be…” He looked perplexed.

  “Bigfoot slippers.” The witch, Addie May, laughed. “I bought them at a World Fantasy Convention last year and realized they’d be a perfect swap.”

  Nergal smiled, determined to be a good sport. He slipped off his boots, put on the new footwear, and stomped around the room.

  “Very nice, dear,” Eresh chortled. “There’s nobody with a bigger foot than you.”

  The king approached her, and with a mock growl, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Drag queen into woods.” He mock snarled.

  Is that drag queen or drag the queen? Emesh questioned. Because I’m only interested in the former.

  The king gave him a quelling look, then put his giggling wife down. Hi
s gaze softened. A month ago, with his wife held hostage, the king never thought to hear her laugh again. Enlil saw the dreamy, romantic looks that came to the faces of the women as the king and queen regarded each other, and put a stop to that nonsense.

  “Okay. Let’s keep going.” He clapped his hands.

  Tess blinked and started again. “Nergal, pick the next number.” The king stuck his hand in the cup and called the next victim.

  “Me.” Lenore leaped to her feet, resplendent in a hot pink silk peignoir. She didn’t hesitate with her choice. Enlil figured she’d been eyeballing the tiny package toward the front of the pile, elegantly wrapped in pink and silver crepe. She ripped the paper off.

  “What the…” She held up two small items.

  “Nipple clampsss,” Anshar hissed. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resssissst the wrapping.”

  Lenore flounced over to her husband and wriggled onto his lap. “Such a naughty boy,” she purred. “Are they for me or for you?”

  “Uh, uh,” Dagon admonished. “You can stop speculating. I wouldn’t count on having those for long.” He turned an eye to his wife, Holly, and a blush worked over her cheeks.

  “My thoughts exactly.” The king raised one eyebrow. “Care to trade for some big, hairy footwear?” He chimed in, surreptitiously pinching his wife’s nipple, but not fast enough that Enlil didn’t notice. Sheesh. A shitload of hormones were flying around this morning.

  Lenore held a clamp teasingly near one ample breast, and worked the spring mechanism, clipping it to the material of her nightie near to its intended target. “Nope. Not trading. I’ll hang on to them as long as I can.” She attached clamp number two, and then plunged her hand into the cup for the next number.

  Even preoccupied with Candy’s absence, Enlil―and everyone else in the room for that matter―couldn’t move their eyes away from Lenore’s chest. Her mother and grandmother, far from looking embarrassed, actually seemed amused, and threatened spells to anyone who took the little prizes from Lenore.

  Marduk stood up, brandishing the proper number, to take his turn. It amused him to open a home weather station, but he decided to hang on to it because―as he explained―Tess’s nipples would be too busy feeding a baby soon to warrant clamping, and his feet were already hairy enough without enhancement. He picked the next number. Dagon was up.