by M J Marstens
“Right,” Lover drawls sarcastically.
“You don’t know the maze he’s created. I do. Ra isn’t here right now. And we’d best leave before he returns. But we need to take at least one other prisoner with us. The Demigodling. I promised his mother I’d free him.”
Lover drops Bi-Polar but takes up a fighting stance.
“Bullshit. Why should we believe any of this?”
I grip Mjoli tighter. “I’m with the ancient dude on this one. Why now?”
Bi-Polar’s mouth settles into a thin line.
“I’m far more ancient than Tupac and, as such, I know Ra well. I could feel his wrath underneath the interest he showed in you. When he gets back, he will call for you. And you will wish you were never born. I don’t want that for you.”
His voice takes on an urgent tone.
Did my orgasm mean that much to him?
Or is there something about the prison magic that draws everyone together?
Does the drain that Ra put on demigod magic have some unknown, horny side effect?
Lover’s arm goes around me protectively. His bicep feels strong across my back and his hand brushes the side of my jean shorts in a familiar way, like we’re friends (or more), even though we just met moments ago. This reinforces my theory.
“Let Ra take me instead when he gets back,” my cellmate offers.
That second bit of chivalry hits me right in the lady bits. I mean, a guy willing to take on torture for you should be a turn on, right?
But it’s completely unnecessary. And possibly a little insulting. Does he not believe I can break us out of here?
“We’ll be gone before then,” I say.
My eyes land on Khepri and narrow.
“If you are really gonna help, you’re gonna do everything I say.”
“I give you my oath,” he promises.
Lover sucks in a breath and I glance over at him.
“Should I believe him?”
Lover nods and tightens his hold, hand squeezing my hip. “An oath by a god is unbreakable. Now ask him for the keys.”
“If I unlock all the doors, then Ra will know it was me,” Bi-Polar counters. “If she breaks you out, it will at least take him a little longer to try to unravel who did it. We’ll have more time to get away”
“Okay then, step back.” I say.
“Why don’t you let me swing that?” Khepri asks.
I have to bite back a grin.
“Sure thing.”
I set Mjoli down and step back, biting down on my smile. This is gonna be fun.
The Egyptian god gives an arrogant smirk before stooping to pick up the hammer one-handed. He can’t.
Two handed.
He still can’t.
Two hands and a foot propped up on the bars for leverage.
The chubby guy in the cell across the way starts laughing. Lover chuckles. Bi-Polar gets … bi-polar.
His eyes flash with fury and he curses Mjoli.
“What the fuck, stupid hammer!”
The hammer just doubles in size. Probably Mjoli’s idea of a ‘fuck you.’
I take pity on Bi-Polar and step forward. “Probably not a good idea to curse him.” I’ve decided Mjoli is definitely a guy.
So I grab his shaft gently and caress it up and down a second. “Hey, sweet thing, you ready to bust us out?” I whisper to the hammer. I’m not certain, but it feels like the handle grows a little thicker under my touch. But I’m easily able to lift it, and then it almost swings itself, smashing into the top hinge with full force. One more swing and my cell door falls down in front of me.
The guys immediately rush forward, but I hold up a hand to stop them. “Wait inside, please.” I lift the hammer to my lips, give it a little kiss, and step into the hall and throw it.
Mjoli spins as fast as a throwing star, hitting the lock on every cell door on the right before twisting like a boomerang and coming back on the left side, smashing through every lock there before returning to my hand. Two more throws and all the hinges are gone too so that the guards can’t just toss people back inside and easily lock them up.
Cell doors fall like dominos.
Demigods rush out into the hall and turn to look at me.
I smile once Mjoli’s back in my hand. “Hey peeps. Time for a premature evacuation!”
10
Raiden
I’m running a quick perimeter check outside the jail, ruminating about her and what happened. I’m still confused about what entirely transpired. All I know—the Nordic seductress is in my head and I can’t get her out of it. That alone makes me equal parts furious and sick to my stomach. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that some enemy of my family has cursed me.
It’s the only thing that makes sense—why else would I be sexually attracted to an ill-begotten deviant?!
I try to ignore how innocent she looked and focus on the fact that she’s a half-breed and was placed in The Black Hole for good reason. Ra doesn’t imprison innocent demis. Each one of them has perpetrated some heinous crime against the gods—an unspeakable travesty in itself. I can only assume that their human side makes them less reasonable and more reckless.
Makes me wonder if Khepri the Brainless isn’t a demi.
I kick the barbed wire topped wall in annoyance at the thought of him, our confrontation, and her reaction.
Khepri, the little fuck, finally decides to quit acting like a pussy and fight back like a man and, when I engage him, she steps between us and fucking comes when we both make contact with her. This troublemaking little demi, whose pheromones were already permeating my brain, had an orgasm when Kheprick and I touched her—an orgasm that smelled better than a rainstorm.
My brain keeps repeating this over and over, like it can’t quite understand. My dick understands well enough, though, and is more than happy to toss aside our honor, familial duty, and morals for a go at the girl. Damn whoever cursed me! They can go straight to Yomi!1
I kick the wall again and allow my anger to leak out into the atmosphere. I hear thunder in the distance—a reaction to my unchecked emotions, but I hear something else, too. Something that I can’t quite put my finger on.
I take a calming breath and the thunder subsides, but the other noise only grows louder. It’s a strange clanking sound.
I realize that it’s coming from inside the prison. I stare at the very modern human-looking jail—Ra specifically made it this way to remind the prisoners of their dirty human heritage.
I hear the noise again. A repeated clank. Almost rhythmic.
I rush inside, instinctively going to the new inmate’s cell. I’m one hundred percent certain that whatever is happening is due to the new troublemaker. I descend two flights of stairs and make my way through three secret passages to get to her floor as quickly as possible. When I round a corner, chaos greets me and I’m shoved aside by the sea of escaping inmates running amok.
That’s right—fucking inmates running amok.
My anger comes roaring back to life and I unheedingly unleash it on the criminals. Thunder crashes overhead and lightning arcs from inmate to inmate, incapacitating them. They fall to the ground, limbs wiggling like the Jello-jigglers that Zaca2 brought to my parents last dinner party as a joke. I will electrocute every one of these fucks and then drown them for shits and giggles.
Since they are demis, they can’t be killed, but I can get some enjoyment from their mass mutiny. My thoughts scatter when, suddenly, she comes walking toward me. Like Moses, another demifuck, she parts the throngs of inmates in two and walks tranquilly down the path she’s made for herself. I absently note that my lightning is not affecting her at all, but then, I remember that she’s Thor’s daughter.
Of course, she’s immune to my kind of electricity.
I should try something else to disarm her ... my dick offers to toss her some of his skills.
I doubt throwing her some meat will weaken her, you asshole, I sneer at my traitorous coc
k.
Doesn’t hurt to try, comes his ballsy response.
My brain agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try—it wouldn’t hurt at all … in fact, trying would do the opposite of hurt, a phantom orgasm floats up and clouds my thoughts.
The object of my obsession comes to a halt when she finally reaches me. I’m only a smidge taller than her and I try not to focus on her long, gorgeous legs. Instead, I stare intently upon her face and pray that she keeps her outspoken mouth shut.
Gods only know if she talks about smelling her orgasm how long I’ll be able to hold out before I break down and beg to lick her pussy or something equally disturbing—even in the midst of a breakout, I can’t stay focused on anything more than her.
I’m going to seriously fuck up whoever had the guts to dishonor my family and me with this attraction jinx, but my thoughts trail off when the Nordic demi stops in front of me. She tips back her head and smiles sweetly up at me.
Innocently.
Maybe Ra did make a mistake.
Then, she raises a tiny little hammer. It can’t be bigger than her index finger. It looks kind of cute in her hand—until she smashes it into the side of my left temple. I roar in pain as my vision instantly starts to tunnel. My last thought before everything goes black:
Not innocent.
But still fuckable, my dick throws in.
Of course, it gets the last word before I go unconscious.
When I come to, everything is hazy and I’m confused as to where I am … hell, I can barely remember who I am. All around me, people are sprinting and rejoicing, the boisterous sounds bounce off the rock walls and I squint. Maybe I’m at a party? Three people surround me—two guys and a lovely woman. For some reason, they are all familiar to me, especially the one man wearing eyeliner, but I can’t seem to be able to place them.
“Hi,” I yell, startling the brunette woman into dropping what looks like a small hammer pick. “Can you tell me who you are, where I’m at, and who I am?”
“What?” the woman squeaks, but the familiar man just laughs maniacally.
“You concussed him, Fuck-Off, congrats!” he tells the woman named Fuck-Off.
“What’s concussed?” I wonder.
I watch a man next to me leap down the hall shouting, “I’m free! I’m free!” I’m not exactly sure what he’s free from … pain, death, an unhappy marriage? But we’re in a long, dark hallway with a lot of broken doors. That doesn’t seem right. My head twinges.
“Concussed is nothing you need to worry about now,” the other guy, the one with bright yellow underwear, inserts smoothly. “I’m Lover and you’re Raiden.”
I hold out a hand for him to shake.
“My lover?” I ask, uncertainly.
I’m unsure if I’m into men … I don’t think I am. My gaze keeps wandering to Val, not the others. Next to me, the guy with the kohl-lined blue eyes barks out a laugh at my comment, and Lover smacks me on the back.
“Nah, it’s just my nickname, I’m Tupac, but I prefer you to yell ‘Lover’ if you need me.” Lover gives me a grin and a wink.
Behind him, a chubby man shouts, “You gave yourself that nickname!”
Lover turns and shows that man a single middle finger.
“You want us to leave you behind, Blimpy? Then shut the afterlife up!”
I nod toward Lover.
“Nice to meet you. Raiden—I like my name.” I roll the unfamiliar name around my tongue a few times, trying to get used to it. My eyes flicker around the little circle the others have formed near me.
“So, you’re Lover, you’re Fuck-Off, and I feel like I know you ...” I tell the familiar-looking handsome man in the white tunic.
He seems to be choking on laughter at something and the woman is frowning fiercely at me.
“Val. Please call me Val,” she requests, her smile polite even though her eyes are tight.
“Of course,” I tell her gallantly. It’s only honorable to do as a lady requests. And for some reason, that feels important to me. “I wouldn’t want to be called Fuck-Off, either.”
“I’m Khepri,” the Egyptian guy finally introduces himself.
“Khepri,” I say, testing the name. “Huh, never heard it. Do I know you?”
Val gets a secretive smile that I love to watch spread over her expressive face. That little grin causes my heart to gather and swell, like clouds before a storm. She’s so pretty.
“He’s your best friend!” she announces and my bestie looks shocked at her words.
“I’m so sorry that I don’t remember you,” I apologize. I feel embarrassed. What happened that I don’t even recall my best friend?! It seems so. . . dishonorable.
Khepri runs a hand over his face and shoots Val a look before he replies, “It’s, ah, no problem. I’m sure your memory will come back with time. Until then, old friend, we’re breaking out of the hellhole of a jail. Any help you can lend us would be great.”
“Yeah!” some woman behind us shouts. “Hurry the hell up before Ra or someone else comes back down here!”
Khepri waves an arm and shouts, “Form a single file line! We’re marching up the stairs!”
A line forms behind us and Khepri leads us through a door into another dark, dank hallway where algae has started to grow on one wall from a continuous leak.
“Of course, I’ll help! I’m not sure how, but anything for my best friend! Erm—why are we in jail?”
My eyes fly up the dank walls, and I realize that there are no windows in this place. It’s so dreary and depressing.
“A bad guy put us here against our will and forced us to eat lima beans,” Tupac announces and I shudder.
“Lima beans?” I ask in distaste.
Why can’t I remember people but my palate can remember the slimy, disgusting texture of a bean that tastes like rotten dirt?
“Lima beans,” Lover confirms.
“Thank the gods we’re escaping,” I conclude, following them. “This isn’t simply a prison, but a torture chamber if they force one to choke down lima beans. Where are we going now?”
“There are still two more people we have to save,” Khepri says, “but we’re going to have to tread carefully because Ra has set boobytraps throughout the prison that go off when anyone tries to escape.”
“Will the others be ok?” Val worries.
Khepri gives an unsure shrug.
“I hope so; there are enough Egyptian demis among the prisoners to help accurately navigate everyone’s way out. And, luckily, I can read hieroglyphics, but Ra hasn’t made this easy. It’s one of the reasons that I’ve hesitated to release the Demigodling. I wanted to make sure I knew all of Ra’s booby traps before attempting his escape.”
“You can read the pretty pictures painted on the walls? That’s awesome!” I tell him, truly happy to be the best friend of someone so magnificent—I tell him this, too.
Lover seems to find my confession hilarious, though.
“This way,” Khepri directs, leading us around a corner. The stairs disappear and the geometric walls become nothing more than a round dirt tunnel that twists in coils through the dirt, lit by an occasional tiny floating ball of fire. We’ve gone into what seems like the bowels of the jail.
I point this out and Val hoots with laughter.
“The bowels of the Back Hole, ahahahaha!”
“The Back Hole?” I wonder, wrinkling my forehead as I glance over at her.
“That’s the name of the prison,” Lover supplies.
“Ah,” I gasp in understanding, “That is funny!” I laugh with them, stomach shaking—it feels so good. For some reason, I get the impression that I haven’t laughed in forever.
“STOP!” Khepri suddenly orders and we all stumble to a grinding halt. “The first boobytrap,” he intones mysteriously, walking over to a wall that blocks our path forward. It has symbols etched into the side. There are animals, people, eyes, hands, and other shapes I can’t identify.
His hand traces the figures from top to bo
ttom. He’s silent while he reads and, then, he nods. He turns back to us and says, in a voice that carries down the tunnel to the line of prisoners, “One of these stones will open to reveal the right path—the wrong one is filled with venomous snakes that can incapacitate even gods. According to these hieroglyphics, I need to press this stone.”
Khepri the Bestest Friend in the World pushes it and a panel swooshes open, revealing a long, unlit hall that fades into darkness. I clap in praise and Khepri gives me a small bow. Wow—this guy. I secretly want to be just like him.
My clap is echoed down the line behind us until the tunnel is full of applause that sounds like the pitter patter of rain, a most glorious sound.
“Hurry—we need to move before Ra returns,” Val directs. “This is the way to Asteio?” she verifies with Khepri, who nods. “Any additional guards?” She reaches into her shirt, pulling the collar down to reveal a delicious amount of cleavage before she pulls out a tiny curved hammer that looks vaguely familiar.
I shake off that familiarity and peer into the dark hallway. I need to focus on helping my best friend, not on trying to remember where I’ve seen tiny hammers that don’t look like they could squash a cherry tomato.
“Here, let me light the way,” Lover adds, fire filling his hands and setting the tunnel aglow. He turns back and says to those in line behind us, “Any light or solar demis, spread yourself out so you can provide light for the others!”
Shuffling occurs as the prisoners behind us rearrange themselves.
We walk down in pairs, Khepri and Lover first and then Val and me. I debate taking her elbow, to help her along some of the rockier terrain, but for some reason, the thought of touching her makes my stomach get nervous and jittery.
Suddenly, the two men in front of us abruptly stop.
“Dude—are you sure you can read hieroglyphics?!” Lover accuses.
I hear a loud angry hiss.
“I can read hieroglyphs—Ra just fucked us, is all. Nothing new there. Both paths probably have snakes,” Khepri adds bitterly, and I hate this Ra being with all my heart to have tricked my best friend so.