by Leo Hull
“You do remember that she’s actually in charge of me, right?” Tristan answered, shaking his head at Nessa’s refusal to accept reality.
“Annik just wants to see you at your best! That’s part of what makes her so perfect for us, and I have to say she’s doing a great job.” Nessa’s hand traced the lines of his muscles sending shivers through Tristan. “Once you’re ready, she’ll take her place as head Bound. Trust me.”
“Sure,” Tristan agreed, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. “Maybe you’re just sick of me and want a break. You know you don’t have to sleep with me if you don’t want to, so there’s no need for these schemes.”
“Take a break from you? Tristan, I really don’t think you understand me. When you bind her, you’ll have to satisfy both of us, not one or the other.” Nessa winked at him, then skipped ahead to walk next to Annik.
Tristan swallowed heavily at her teasing and couldn’t help but stare at the two opposing pinnacles of feminine beauty. He’d had weeks to admire Nessa’s form and couldn’t help taking the opportunity to appreciate Annik. The muscles in Annick’s athletic legs and ass flexed as she walked, inviting and holding Tristan’s eye. Each step rolled her hips and stretched the fabric to bare a tantalizing glimpse of her hidden charms. He wondered if they would continue their training now that they were in Saeli. Tristan smiled at the thought of finally winning Annik’s submission.
He relished the combat, and not just for the feel of Annik’s body or the promise of reliving the games of the Corp training ground. Nessa watched eagerly, and though he’d lost every match the thrill of the heated contest always had Nessa eager for them to retire together. As much as the arousing aspects of the sparring itself, Tristan loved the feel of having a purpose and the adoration in Nessa’s eyes and growing respect in Annik’s. He felt looked up to, but more importantly for the first time in years he felt worthwhile of the Bolstered name.
Grinning, he pushed forwards and squeezed between Nessa and Annik. The silver-haired Spark smiled happily and wrapped an arm around him. He slung an arm around both women and though Annik scowled, she didn’t move away until the trio reached the dingy looking inn on near the outer rim of Saeli.
“The neighborhood looks rough,” Annik said, eyeing the rundown buildings and alleys that had refuse spilling into the street. The buildings pressed together, and the balconies were no longer quite so entrancing.
“It’s not the best,” Nessa admitted, “but it’s cheap and the only money we have is from your armor. The Arbiter said two days for the judgment and we still have to track down Perran and recover your crystal. Even if we get a ruling in our favor, he might have already found some way to claim the money or sold your crystal.”
“Where should we start looking?” Tristan asked, just happy to have a real bed again. Even the worst bed would be better than the cramped quarters of the ship that rocked with the ocean or the hard ground of the past few weeks. It would also open unexplored opportunities with Nessa, assuming she was interested in continuing their nightly rendezvous. From the way she stared at him, he suspected she was game.
“He had to sell his townhome after he lost his other Sparks. Before we left on whatever that venture was, he gave up the rooms he rented near the Public Baths. Don’t worry, I have some ideas, but first a bath and real food!” Nessa led the way in without waiting for an answer.
Annik followed, clearly as eager as Nessa for the trappings of civilization. Tristan had to admit that the smells of well-seasoned meat had reminded him of just how plain their food had been lately.
“Do all Sparks have silver hair?” Annik asked, grease from the leg of mutton she held in one hand dripping down her chin. Tristan tore into his own, chewing happily. The food was spiced heavily, the flavors strange and strong compared to Aeolian fare.
“No, most just get a streak or two,” Nessa answered, “or nothing at all.”
“Well, it’s beautiful.” Annik reached out and ran her fingers through Nessa’s shimmering locks. The Spark’s eyes turned to slits and she seemed to relax at Annik’s touch.
“It’s not something I can control.”
“Like the sparks on your skin when you…” Annik drifted off, her cheeks rosy at her unspoken question.
“When Tristan fucks me?” Nessa giggled. “Kind of like that, I guess. The Gift can change a woman, but it depends on her strength and how much she uses it. It’s certainly left its mark on me.” Nessa leaned forward and opened her eyes wide. “See the bright flecks? Those are even rarer, and you can’t fake the eyes like some do with hair dye.”
“You’re powerful?” Tristan asked. It seemed like a stupid question considering she’d taken Annik down and only lost to Tristan because of Perran’s cowardice and a lucky fall.
“I guess. It’s not like there are rankings or anything, but I was the best in Perran’s harem, and my contract payment was large. I stood to make eight times what my parents put up. Most Sparks don’t even double their buy in.” Nessa grinned and sent a small zap into Tristan’s side. His body spasmed and he sloshed water over himself. “I don’t really give it much thought. I just do my best.”
“Well you handled me easy enough,” Annik said with a grin as Tristan rubbed his side.
“You had metal armor on. No one wears that around here for a reason. It’s like a focus for a Spark. Now that I’ve seen you and Tristan fight, I think things would have turned out differently if you were dressed right.” Nessa looked down at the table as she spoke, and Tristan wondered about the truth of her words.
“Like I am now?” Annik asked sarcastically. She gestured at her outfit and even thrust her chest out to emphasize the ludicrous clothes. Tristan knew better than to say anything, but he thought she looked incredible in the skintight top. Her nipples hardened at the attention and Tristan guiltily looked away.
“You look great, but I do worry about how that would hold up in an actual fight,” Nessa giggled. “We can buy you something more durable once we get the money and have more time. First, we need to find Perran.”
“You said you had some ideas?” Annik asked, pouncing on a change in conversation. She had held her head high walking through town, but Tristan had seen how she blushed whenever she caught him looking at her. Annik had done so much for him that he regretted his attention if it made her uncomfortable but keeping his eyes off her was as hard a challenge as he had ever set for himself.
“He has his mom hidden in a house near the sea,” Nessa began, rushing to explain herself when Annik cringed. “Not to kidnap or anything, but we could stake her out and see if he visits. She’s sweet and old, but he keeps his visits a secret for some reason. I’ve only been there a few times but I’m sure I could find it again. The downside with that plan is he could go months without visiting her.”
“He just leaves her alone?” Annik asked, horrified at the idea.
“He has debts and I think he’s hiding her. He treats her well and I hate the idea of using her as bait in a trap,” Nessa shuddered. “Better would be getting the money after the Arbiter’s decision and then hiring some professionals. Perran did that a few times. We just need to find the right crew.”
“I want to find him ourselves,” Tristan said, surprised by the forcefulness of his feelings on the matter. In the past he would have readily foisted duty off if it meant more opportunities for drinking or carousing. Not this time and not with these two depending on him. “Or at least try. The man stole from all of us.”
It felt important to do this himself, to be more involved than hiring bounty hunters. Annik smiled approvingly at his desire. Tristan basked in her admiration, surprised at how satisfying it felt.
“Right! Then tomorrow we head to the Acropolis Ward. There’s a club he liked to visit, but we will need some different clothes.” Nessa paused and looked thoughtful. “And we’ll need a pair of Slivers for Annik.”
“What?” Annik eyes widened to the size of small saucers, a blush blooming on her cheeks. “Why
would I need that?”
“Relax,” Nessa assured her. “We just need you to look like a Bound and they won’t check past the fact that you’re wearing a Sliver. You two can save the official binding for later!”
Tristan’s face heated up as Annik nervously glanced at him. Nessa grinned happily at their embarrassment, pleased with how her jab had landed.
The conversation drifted, Nessa answering questions about Saelian society until they had all eaten their fill. Tristan was startled when she casually mentioned Saeli was small by the standard of cities on the Albeder Sea. Saeli was one of the younger cities and the Gift here was particularly hard to accept. Most cities had less potent Gifts but made up for it with sheer numbers.
Even more concerning, to the western edges of the Albeder Sea, rumors spoke of monsters raging—animals corrupted by the Fallen’s Gifts that pushed at the boundaries of civilization. Tristan’s world expanded as Nessa spoke, and he felt a strange unease at the knowledge that Aeol sat on the fringe of the world rather than at the center.
He’d left Aeol expecting to stomp around for weeks or perhaps a couple of months. A few expeditions had discovered small pockets of humanity that eked out a meager existence, but nothing like the vast and varied cultures that Nessa described. Fallen, they had actual wars here that made the conflicts between factions of Aeol look like minor dustups. The Corp, Aeol’s standing military, seemed inconsequential next to the vastness of these new lands.
Despite everything, Tristan had never been happier.
“Why are you smiling?” Annik asked Tristan, her face heavy as Nessa described how just a few months ago, rumors had arrived of barbarians raiding outposts riding massive lizard-like creatures that stank of rotting flesh.
“I don’t know,” Tristan answered honestly. He felt oddly eager, even excited by the new world. Serving in the Corp mostly meant parades, crushing the odd rebellion, or bullying tribes as Aeol sought to establish colonies. The Corp and the Empire took themselves seriously, training and stockpiling as if preparing for something. Maybe this was it.
Or maybe Tristan just liked adventuring with two beautiful women clinging to his side.
“I feel purpose for the first time,” Tristan finally said, squeezing Nessa’s hand while grinning at Annik. “Can’t say why, but it feels good to be here, to be me.”
“I wonder who you have to thank for that?” Annik teased, but Tristan could see how his words moved her. For the rest of their meal, she wore a stupid grin on her face, and she deserved to.
Forcing him along on this trip might have saved his life.
Chapter Ten
Annik tensed as Tristan wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, but then melted against him. Tristan tried not to let the feel of Annik’s breast pressing against his arm or Nessa’s tight butt in his other hand go to his head. After all, the two were playing an act, albeit one that Tristan wished could go on forever.
Well, Annik was acting and her costume was a false Sliver and a clingy dress with open sides held together by a ladder of ribbons that bared more skin than it covered. The ties ended above her hip and left the front and back flaps free so that every step exposed leg to her hip. She sat now; the skirt pooled between her legs to expose expanses of tantalizing flesh. Annik had been more nervous emerging from the fitting room than departing Aeol, and she had clung to Tristan and Nessa as if to shield herself from the world.
Tristan was pleased to support her.
Nessa, on the other hand, was her normal self. She had swapped her leather skirt and top for a black dress that emphasized her shimmering silver hair and clung to her like wet fabric. The dress molded to her tits and exposed a deep swathe of tanned flesh nearly to her belly. It was a miracle she didn’t spill out as she leaned across Tristan.
During the walk to the Relegate, Nessa had skipped playfully and chatted relentlessly with Annik until the Bolstered’s anxiety eased. The gesture wasn’t lost on Tristan or Annik, but Nessa shrugged away the thanks as unneeded. Regardless of how comfortable they started out, both women now cuddled against him, scanning the room for Perran or his friends.
Tristan wished he could say he had the same level of focus to their mission, but the atmosphere at the Relegate proved too distracting despite Nessa’s attempts to prepare him. Nessa’s veiled description of a club where men met to socialize, and women went to find a vulta, failed in all respects to capture the bacchanalian atmosphere.
Women served drinks, danced, and put on graphic shows on elevated platforms, many in an attempt to advertise themselves to potential vulta. Most weren’t even employed by the Relegate but that didn’t hold them back from trying to catch the eye of the wealthy patrons. Nessa giggled at Annik and Tristan’s shocked embarrassment over the debauchery, and particularly Tristan’s helpless arousal.
Her hand in his lap certainly wasn’t helping his concentration.
“What is that?” Annik hissed, pressing closer to whisper to Nessa over the chatter and feminine moans. A woman wearing black leather harness with a dark phallus attached positioned herself behind a rather eager looking redhead.
“Interested?” Nessa asked with a raised eyebrow, her fingers dancing lightly over Tristan’s bulging pants. An image flashed through Tristan’s mind of Nessa preparing to mount Annik and it was all he could do to stifle his groan.
“No!” Annik quickly insisted, but she didn’t look away as the redhead pushed back against her lover. “And stop teasing Tristan! He’s barely functional as it is.”
“Yes, mistress,” Nessa cheekily replied, her hand withdrawing after one last stroke.
Tristan sighed but knew he should be better. What did he care for the carnal displays of these other women? None held a candle next to the Spark siren or Bolstered beauty draped over him. He clutched Nessa and Annik tighter, surprised but pleased when Annik wrapped an arm around his and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Annik warned, but her voice lacked any bite. Tristan knew better than to antagonize her and turned himself to the task at hand.
At Nessa’s suggestion, they had arrived at the club after lunch. The nights pulled bigger crowds, but vulta and women who were serious about finding new contracts did so during daylight. Nessa was convinced Perran would be on the lookout for a new Spark. He had debts to pay, and Nessa thought his only hope was binding another Spark. Even if he had managed to claim her money, this would be the place he would come to spend it. Nessa had watched him lose a small fortune in the private rooms for high rollers.
The afternoon dragged on, Tristan and the two women nibbling at food and ordering just enough drinks to avoid arousing suspicion. Tristan cleansed the alcohol even as he swallowed, nearly an unconscious habit now after weeks of practicing low-grade continuous use of his Gift. The burn of liquor felt like home and he missed the intoxicating numbness it brought, but he now had better things than alcohol. He’d seen enough old drunks repeatedly claiming ‘just one more’ then showing back up the next night to walk that slippery slope.
Instead, he studied the people of Saeli, many clearly from other lands and exhibiting stunning diversity beyond what was known in Aeol. Women walked past with skin as dark as coal or as pale as vellum, many in clothing that reflected their culture of origin. A few had silver streaks through otherwise dark hair, Sparks marked by their Gift, but Nessa alone had a fully silvered mane and it drew attention.
More than one man approached to inquire if Nessa’s contract was ending soon or could be bought, a concept that made Tristan’s stomach flip. Nessa had warned him this would happen, but his visceral reaction was stronger than even he could anticipate. The first man that asked he sent away with a hard shove that earned a soft rebuke from Nessa even as she grinned proudly at him. After a stern warning from Relegate staff, Tristan let Annik handle them, which she did with a skill that had Nessa simmering with pride.
Most of all, Tristan just let himself enjoy his time with two women that seemed to actually res
pect him. It was strange that this was the part that mattered most and not the erotic displays around them or even the nights with Nessa. Tristan tried not to question it. If he looked too hard, he might decide he was actually worth something.
“That’s him,” Nessa whispered, her body tensing as she nodded towards the main entrance. She sank into the crook of Tristan’s arm to hide her distinctive hair, but Perran was on his way out and never looked back.
The three were up as soon as he stepped from view, Tristan parting the growing crowd as they followed in pursuit. When they reached the door, he hesitated—a fortunate choice as the door swung open to admit a fresh surge of patrons and reveal that Perran stood right outside, his back to them as he talked to half a dozen men in leather armor with swords at their sides. The rough men stood out amongst the throngs of partygoers.
Tristan pulled back before Perran had a chance to turn and possibly recognize him.
“He’s there and he has armed men with him,” Tristan told them. “Six of them. Swords and light armor.” The girls had small knives strapped to the inside of their thighs, while Tristan wore one openly at his belt. Despite their lack of swords, Tristan felt confident. He and Annik could probably take them while unarmed, and Nessa didn’t need anything but herself to be dangerous.
She might not be able throw her lightning without being bonded to a Ground and Perran would be able to limit or completely counter much of her power, but hopefully they wouldn’t need her at all. They planned to talk with him first and only get rough if he refused to return the crystal and abandon any claims on Nessa’s contract. Nessa thought he would give it up when cornered, but Tristan suspected Perran wouldn’t be so easy with the armed men at his back.
Tristan pushed the door open and stepped out and to the side as if coming out for a breath of fresh air. He turned to face the breeze so that Perran, standing just feet away talking to his guards, wouldn’t get a clear look at his face.