by Noah Rain
It was hard. I felled the first of them with a feint right cross that I turned into a left hook that cracked the resin helmet and had him sleeping before he hit the floor. But the next three were much more careful, much more cunning, and much more exhilarating to fight.
You see. It wasn’t that they weren’t well-trained. They were. It wasn’t that they didn’t hit hard. They did. I had more welts after that fight than after my run-in with Vash and the Shockers, and I was wearing a little Kevlar of my own. In the end, what kept a smile plastered across my face the whole time was the fact that I hadn’t been pushed like that in ages, and I quite enjoyed the experience.
I blocked a baton strike with my left forearm and followed it back with an elbow to the neck. That guard went down clutching his throat, but I didn’t think the blow was strong enough to collapse his trachea completely. He’d be okay.
The next two must have been brothers, or lovers, or maybe coach and student. They fought in coordination. Since guns were such a big no-no around these parts, Enforcers, Guilders and Synners had to be exceedingly comfortable with hand-to-hand combat. But many disappointed. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised when the brothers in black coordinated their strikes in such a way that I couldn’t avoid both at once.
This resulted in me blocking a lot of heavy, vicious strikes from heavy batons, steel-toe boots and military-grade plastic elbow guards. I must have looked like a horror show as I leaned against the left wall in the entryway, peering at the guards through my raised forearms, and watching Carmen kick the ever-living shit out of a man in the background. She looked like she was going out of her way to throw him or be thrown through as many expensive glass sculptures and high-class paintings as she could en route to victory or defeat. When the second guard got to his feet woozily and tried to attack Carmen from behind, she twisted around and landed a kick from orbit that blasted his head … no, sorry, just his helmet, up toward the ceiling.
“Yield,” one of the men said in a far-east accent.
“Surrender,” the other said.
“Ah, right,” I said. “I’d forgotten about you two.”
They looked at one another, and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to blindside them in that moment. So I waited until they looked back at me, and then I ducked down and bowled them over, wrapping an arm around each of their legs down at knee level.
Now that I knew I was stronger than I had any right to be, it was like my brain had taken some of the limits off of my muscles. I had always hit hard, and maybe I had hit a bit harder after the condition had taken hold. But man, when I attacked knowing what I could do, it certainly felt like I was a tough ask for anyone, or any two.
We went down in a violent tangle. I got sliced up on some of the errant shards of glass, obsidian and marble, but I got top position on the left guard as the right scrambled to his feet. Those precious few seconds alone with his partner were all I needed. I pressed a knee into his solar plexus, hearing his wheezing through his helmet, and then ripped it off with one hand as I guided a punch into his waiting face with the other.
I won’t say he was sleeping, but close enough.
A bright light flashed, and I felt familiar warmth coursing down my neck. It was interesting, the sensations that made their way through the web that was my nervous system.
I realized dimly that I had been struck in the back of the head by a baton, and that I should be unconscious. Since I wasn’t, I reached back, hooked my hand around the bootheel of the other guard and pulled him down roughly. I fell back, and brought my right elbow down with me, probably harder than I needed to. It sank into his ribs, and I heard a crunch, even though my ears were ringing.
“You’re … going to want to get that checked out,” I said.
When I gained my feet, I was a little unsteady. I didn’t feel any pain, but my vision was cloudy as I scanned the room. It wasn’t quite as lavish as the Vixens’ abode, but it was big, and we had probably done a few million worth of damage to it.
Speaking of us.
I felt a delayed surge of panic as I scanned past the Suit—who was looking decidedly less confident than he had a few moments ago—and saw Carmen with her back up against the glass. One guard was groaning amidst a pile of ceramics on a white carpet in the center of the room, but the other was going to work on her. He had lost his baton and his helmet, but he landed hook after hook to her blocking arms, with one getting through to her ribs and sinking her to one knee. She looked like her gloves had lost their charge.
Before I knew what had happened, I had cleared the space between us in two leaps, and had the guard lifted off his feet, both of my bloody hands around his throat. He clutched at my wrists like a struggling child, his legs flailing so hard one of his boots flew off and broke something else in the Suit’s suite.
“Konnor!”
I blinked, remembering that it wasn’t the first time Carmen had shouted my name desperately. I looked down to my left at her. She was panting on her hands and knees, and looking at me with a twinge of fear. I let go of the guard without looking at him, and he fell with a thud, then devolved into a fit of coughing and puking.
Carmen accepted my hand, and I pulled her in close without really meaning to. I was still unsteady, and she felt it.
“Konnor? Are you alright? Come on. We’re almost through.”
I released her, and followed her like she was the guiding light in a dream. She stalked over to the Suit’s desk, walked right around it, and seized him by the collar.
I don’t remember what she said to him. Something threatening, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have been sure he took the meaning if I hadn’t seen how wet his pants were when she let him fall back down in his chair. I didn’t think of it until later on, when I had recovered, but he hadn’t been looking at Carmen while she’d been yelling at him. He’d been looking past her, at me.
As Carmen led me out of the austere battleground on the fiftieth floor, I examined the writhing and still guards. I guess those guys had been a big deal.
Then again, I guess I was now, too.
Chapter 15
In Too Deep
I woke up feeling groggy, confused and, well, like a bag of shit for what felt like the tenth time in as many days. Only this time, it wasn’t the result of some weird, experimental elixir. This time, I woke up with the familiar, somehow comfortable fog of exhaustion that could only come from a good fight.
Back in my League days, which seemed like another life now, I’d have been wincing before I even sat up in bed. Now, I might not feel the same aches and pains, but my body still took damage just the same as any other man. In some ways, not feeling the pain put me in greater danger than the Vixens. If Carmen was banged up, her body would tell her to stay put. Me? My body would tell me to pick another fight.
Not this time. It seemed the heavily-armored, well-trained and baton-happy guards had landed a few solid blows, including one particularly brutal strike to the back of my head. Nerves or no nerves, pseudo superpowers or not, there was no toughing your way out of a concussion.
I blinked at my surroundings, mustering the wherewithal to sit up and scoot back against the headboard. The room was dimly lit, and I noticed that the walls weren’t blood red, but green, which meant I hadn’t woken up in Sascha’s chambers this time.
“Carmen’s room.”
I was too tired to jump, but the voice caught me by surprise. I looked to my left and saw Scarlett sitting at a desk. She was in a towel, and her hair was wet.
“Where’s Carmen?” I asked, not able to think of anything more pertinent.
“Probably waiting for me to leave so she can have you to herself.”
Scarlett’s tone was calm and even playful.
“How long have I been out this time?”
“Just overnight,” Scarlett said. “I take it Mr. Barrington wasn’t alone.”
“Not quite, but
I’m sure you heard the details from Carmen.”
“She was impressed with you,” Scarlett said. “Said you took out almost all of the guards by yourself. They were paramilitary, from the sounds of things.”
“Would have been nice to know going in,” I said.
Scarlett shrugged, as if it was the sentiment of a child. This was war, that shrug seemed to say. Shit happened.
It was a contradictory image: a beautiful, red-haired vixen like her, sitting in a bathrobe like she was preparing for bed rather than for some secret mission led by a former commando or spy or assassin or whatever the hell Sascha had been in her previous life. Or still was.
“Is it day or night?”
“Mid-morning,” Scarlett said.
I shifted, only realizing I was completely naked when I saw Scarlett’s eyes flicker down toward my waist. I was covered in nasty black bruises and dried scabs.
“The hell.”
“You reeked,” Scarlett said by way of explanation.
“Who did the bathing?”
“You were still semi-conscious,” she said. “You were mostly able to stand. I don’t think you minded the shower. Darla offered to help. She’s generous like that.”
“That she is.” I looked at Scarlett, focusing on her eyes even if it was easier said than done, given how good she looked in anything and everything. “So, what’s the plan for today? New mission?”
“Not for you,” Scarlett said.
I winced, wondering if I’d done something wrong. Then I got a little annoyed. It was Sascha’s plan, after all.
“It would have been nice to know about the guards,” I said, sounding a little more petulant than I would have liked.
“Nobody knew,” Scarlett said. “They were likely Enforcers. Off the clock Enforcers, so to speak. Seems to be a new trend.”
“The Enforcers are supposed to be neutral,” I said. “They defend the system, right? They’re not controlled by any single company, but answer to the world government.”
“Hence the ‘off the clock’ modifier,” Scarlett said. “Konnor. You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did Carmen. You both got Sascha’s message across loud and clear.”
I noticed a glass of water sweating on a side table and grabbed for it, taking a long drink and not really caring that half of it ended up soaking my chest. Scarlett didn’t seem to mind either.
“Did you know about the immunity bill?” I asked, as more details of the mission returned to my clearing mind.
Scarlett’s expression grew as cloudy as my brain had been when I first woke up.
“Not until after,” she admitted. “Why?”
“Scarlett,” I said. “Doesn’t something like that give you questions? An immunity bill. Credit immunity.”
“It’s just more company posturing so the Suits can protect their own,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “But think of the potential for something like that in the right hands. What if the people had immunity?”
“If we hit one million credit points?” Scarlett scoffed. “It’s a bit out of reach—“
“You’re not hearing me, Scarlett.” She looked at me, searching my expression. “The intent and execution of the bill was meant to protect the Suits. But if we could get the right people onboard, what if we could get a different version of it adopted by the Silk City government?”
“The Suits are the government,” Scarlett said. “Or haven’t you been paying attention?”
“The government is a collective,” I said. “Sure, the Guilds and Syndicates hold most of the obvious power in Silk City and Jaxton. But the government is how the companies come together. Don’t you see, Scarlett? The government and its rules are the binding charter—the spider web that holds the companies together and prevents one from stepping out of line. If we can get something changed about the web, every fly caught in it is affected.”
“That’s a big ask,” Scarlett said. “We’d need to get Suits and Pearls onboard. In my experience, threats work best when compelling someone not to do something, rather than compelling them to act.”
“There have to be some good ones,” I said. “Some honest ones. Or, if not that,” I noted Scarlett’s doubtful expression, “then at least some that have common enemies to us, and common interests in a more empowered populace.”
“Sascha knows more about the companies than you know about yourself, Konnor,” Scarlett said. “She’s got a plan. Maybe something like what you’re suggesting factors in. You’re more than welcome to bring it up to her.”
It was a non-starter and we both knew it. An awkward silence passed, and we both seemed to remember my nudity.
“For someone who seems to be Sascha’s right-hand woman, she seems to keep a lot from you,” I said, risking Scarlett’s ire.
“She’s reading me in on top-level information now. We all have to prove ourselves, Konnor. Even me.”
“What about Sascha?”
“She’s done more for the girls in this tower, and she will do more for the people of the twin cities—and eventually, the world—than you could ever know. I may not always agree with her methods, Konnor, but I’m far from perfect. I know myself enough to recognize that part of why I want to burn the system down is to dance on the ashes. That doesn’t sound like a new world. It sounds like a broken one. Maybe … maybe there is a better way, and I just can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help bring it about.”
That was hard to argue with. I did want to talk to Sascha, but as Scarlett stood and crossed the small room to the door, I knew my opportunity wouldn’t come today.
“While you’re brooding,” Scarlett said at the door, “you could at least admit that you had fun yesterday.”
I smiled. “Guilty as charged.”
Scarlett was right, and it took a fighter to recognize the thrill of combat in another. It had felt good to let loose like that, no matter the specifics of the mission. It was easier not to question it when I could stop any question in its tracks with a well-placed answer on the end of my fist or boot.
That was what scared me.
Scarlett must have seen the shadow that flitted across my face.
“I had fun last night, too,” she said.
I remembered our … video session from the night before.
“Just be warned,” she said conspiratorially, “I think Nina, Darla and Carmen have been watching it on loop all morning. Carmen saw you in action firsthand. She’ll expect an encore.”
I tried to suppress my excitement. It was such a strange dynamic among the Vixens. I clearly had feelings for Scarlett, and I thought she had feelings toward me, but it was hard to know where they ended and where the rest of the group started. I thought there was more to the sex-crazed girls than physical attraction, and even more than Nina and Sascha’s desire to develop a new elixir to aid them in their eventual takedown of the Silk City power structure. There was a bond between these women that was one of both sisterhood and sensuality. Trust and intimacy. And they had brought me into that fold.
Putting it that way, I really had nothing to be so broody about.
“Good luck on your mission, Scarlett,” I said before she left. “And thanks for the bath.”
She winked, opened the door, and closed it behind her.
I must have fallen back asleep, because I woke up with a start.
“Scar … err, hey Carmen.”
She was crawling toward me on her hands and knees, and the soft light coming in through the door frame painted her outline. Her naked outline.
All of the Vixens were beautiful, but Carmen’s form was lithe, athletic perfection. She moved like a jungle cat, and judging by the intense, focused look in her eyes, I was her prey.
Her skin was brown, like caramel. She was soft as she crawled over my legs, allowing her firm breasts and tight core to brush ov
er me as she arched her back and slid down to caress me with her body. She licked the top of my penis, wasting no time, and carried the lick up the shaft, to my pelvis, and she kept going, rising into her arch as her tongue traced over my abs, licked the salt from my chest, tickled my neck, and brought the taste up to my waiting mouth.
It was a long, hungry kiss, and when Carmen released me, and sat down on me, pressing her hips onto my hardening cock, she had a dark, mischievous look on her face.
“You don’t feel this?” she asked as she pressed a finger into one of the dark bruises on my ribs.
“Not the pain,” I said. I felt my penis pulsing, coming to life under Carmen’s warm hips. I felt moisture, and then wet. Her vagina was already dripping, coating me, getting me ready.
“Nina was going to run some tests on you today, to see if you had recovered,” Carmen said.
“Oh yeah?”
“But I thought I might be the one best suited to seeing how you were doing, what with Scarlett busy.”
“I heard you were watching our video,” I said.
“I was there for the real thing,” Carmen said. “But if you think that’s going to be enough for me, you’ve got another thing coming, Konnor Kayde.”
“You fought well yesterday,” I said, running my hands up along the sides of her ribs, feeling her musculature. She was more solidly build than the other Vixens. Strong. Powerful. She was like a race car.
“I was going to fuck you back to life,” Carmen said. Her lip was quivering. She ignored what I had said entirely. “But I’m going to let you try to impress me.”
“Oh?”
“Your stamina is … impressive,” she raised herself up onto her knees, and reached underneath her, taking my cock in her hand. She started stroking me, biting her lip. I was more interested in watching her abs and her hips move up and down than I was in watching her play with me. “But I wonder who will come first?”
“I don’t think you’re up for the challenge,” I said. “Don’t you remember how many times I made Scarlett cum?”