by Sarah Hawke
Maybe that’s the point.
“Gods damn it,” I said, holding my quim against his face for another few moments before I finally lifted my leg and pivoted around. His cheeks and lips were glistening with my juices, and we started down at other, completely expressionless, for a solid thirty seconds.
And then we laughed. Together.
“I had a feeling you’d like it rough,” Jorem said. “Bad girls always do.”
I wiped the last bit of his seed from my face and shoveled it into my mouth. Even drained of their Aetheric energy, the thick strands were still intoxicating. He didn’t have a mirror nearby, so I could only imagine how shamelessly whorish I looked right now. Hair tousled, eyeshadow smeared, chin dripping…
He slowly shook his head. “I admit, I didn’t think you could feed that way. I figured I’d be able to have a bit more fun before you escaped.”
“It’s even easier to feed through the skin than the mouth,” I lied. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like a reasonable excuse for my back-breaking climax. What kind of girl had an orgasm just because a man dumped his seed on her?
Me, apparently.
Jorem watched in stunned silence as I licked myself clean. I don’t know how much time passed, but he eventually slumped down next to me and sighed.
“So now what?” he asked. “Sobren’s long gone, and the Brotherhood is probably looking for us.”
I paused and glanced around. The total lack of sunlight down here made it impossible to tell how long I had been out. “What time is it?”
“Late morning, give or take. Long enough for them to move everything of value out of that den…and to tell every bounty hunter in the city that Jorem Farr brought a Senosi right to their boss’s doorstep.”
“We killed the guards, and from the sound of it you caused a big enough ruckus to escape in the confusion. They might not blame you.”
“Every single person in that place got a nice, long look at my face. They’ll remember, trust me.”
“You were already on their bad side and you managed just fine.”
He snorted contemptuously. “I live in the fucking cistern, sweetheart. Just because the Brotherhood wasn’t actively trying to kill me doesn’t mean they were leaving me alone. They blacklisted me—I couldn’t get a job in this city to save my life. Did you really think I was healing refugees in the warrens out of the goodness of my heart?”
I frowned as he ran his hands back through his short hair. I felt legitimate sympathy for him, which was annoyingly out of character for me. I wasn’t sure why, but I continued treating him differently than every other man I’d ever met. Apparently a handsome face and a big cock were all it took to get on my good side.
“Since I failed to help you bring in Sobren, I assume you’re about to tell me that our deal is off,” Jorem went on. “Which means I am officially fucked.”
“The deal’s not off,” I assured him. “I’ve never given up on a hunt before and I don’t intend to start now. We just need to come up with a new plan of attack.”
He eyed me curiously for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Aren’t your superiors going to be pissed at you?”
“No,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. If the Brotherhood started spreading rumors about a known sorcerer like Jorem Farr working with a Senosi, it wouldn’t take long for my sisters to put two and two together. I needed to get ahead of this while I still could. “But I will need to head back and give the Inquisitrix a report soon. In the meantime, you can try and find another lead.”
“Weren’t you listening?” Jorem asked, leaning up. “Sobren will have every one of his goons out there looking for me. I’m fucked.”
“Any sorcerer who has managed to survive in this city for as long as you have must have some tricks up his sleeve,” I said. “And I’m sure you still have a few contacts left. Otherwise maybe I should break off our deal.”
His eyes widened ever so slightly, and I could tell he was still trying to decide whether or not he could trust me. I couldn’t help but wonder what would ultimately make a bigger difference: the fact that I had taken a crossbow bolt for him, or the fact he had just spilled a gallon of his seed all over my tits and face.
“There might be one last thing I can try,” Jorem said eventually. “But I’ll need a little time. Probably a few days at least.”
“You have one ,” I told him. “I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning.”
“And if I don’t have a lead for you?”
“Then you will no longer be useful to me.” I paused and glanced down at his cock. “Not as useful as I’d like, anyway. Even the best food gets stale after a while…and then you have no choice but to throw it away.”
His lip twitched as he struggled to decide whether or not I was serious. “For the record, I still think you’re the craziest bitch I’ve ever met.”
I smiled. “Never forget it.”
4
I arrived back in the Castarium about an hour later, and I headed straight for my personal chambers. I had planned to slip out of sight as quickly as possible, but on the way I heard several of my fellow Huntresses gossiping about the previous night’s events. Apparently the rumors were spreading even faster than I’d thought. They whispered about an assassination attempt on Sobren Lecasi, though they didn’t seem to know any details beyond the fact that one of our kind was involved. That was good…probably.
After cleaning up in my room—and confirming that I did indeed look like a mess—I washed up again in the public bath before slipping back into my regular armor. I probably should have tried to get some sleep instead, but I wasn’t tired. Besides, I had to work to do.
I reopened my door, planning to head straight for the Sentry Tower to see if the Spymistress had learned anything useful. But before I even set foot in the corridor a tall, purple-robed woman rounded the corner and raised her silver gauntlet.
“Huntress Valuri,” she said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Her Exaltedness will be pleased to learn that you have returned.”
I froze in place and bit down on my lower lip, mostly to keep myself from swearing. I never liked dealing with the Sanctori under the best of circumstances, let alone when they caught me at a disadvantage like this.
“I am ready to serve, as always,” I said. “But I just returned a few minutes ago, and I was hoping to—”
“I am afraid Her Exaltedness is not willing to wait,” the woman insisted. “You will accompany me to the audience chamber. Now.”
My heart skipped at least two beats. While the Senosi were the Inquisitrix’s personal infiltrators and assassins, the Sanctori were her bodyguards and enforcers. They were trained almost exclusively in close-range combat, and they underwent the same vatari bonding ritual that we did. They didn’t technically outrank us—we all served at the pleasure of the Inquisitrix and her Hand—but ignoring the request of a Sanctori was…unwise, to say the least.
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Please, lead the way.”
The woman turned on a booted heel, and I dutifully followed her across the Castarium. Despite my best efforts to remain focused, my mind raced through all the ways this could go horribly wrong. Did she know about my failure last night? Did she know that I was working with a sorcerer? Was she planning on punishing me for putting the Brotherhood on alert and possibly ruining our one and only chance to cripple them for good?
I had nearly worked myself into a frenzy by the time we crossed the courtyard and arrived at the gate. Two more Sanctori opened the door for me, their golden-tipped spears glinting in sunlight. I crossed through the chamber quickly, wincing at the surprisingly loud click of my stiletto heels reverberating off the walls, before I finally dropped to my knees and bowed before my mistress.
“It is good to see you again, my child,” the Inquisitrix said, her husky voice as cool and imposing as ever. “According to your Senosi sisters, you’ve been quite busy of late.”
“Yes, Your Exaltedness,” I replied. �
�Every day I grow closer and closer to presenting you with Sobren Lecasi’s head.”
“So you say—so many of your sisters have said. And yet still he eludes all of you. It is…disappointing .”
I forced myself to breathe steadily and keep my eyes upon the floor. The Inquisitrix rarely raised her voice, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t angry. Her rage had always been more like a smoldering ember than an uncontrolled wildfire.
“One of your sisters heard a rumor that a Brotherhood gambling den was attacked last night,” she went on. “I assume you are responsible?”
“Yes, Your Exaltedness.”
“I see. You may rise.”
Taking a deep breath to brace myself, I slowly glanced up and returned to my feet. The Inquisitrix remained motionless on her throne, her sleek, silver gauntlets folded in her lap and her long, leather-encased legs crossed. She was an imposing figure in her own right, and not just because of the ceremonial blades jutting out from her shoulders or the enchanted battle-robe encasing her statuesque figure. Few women in this part of the world could match her imposing height, and none projected the same aura of menace. Curiously, I had never actually seen her true face; she wore her featureless silver mask wherever she went, a testament to the time she had spent among the Dragon Brides of Varellon. The white streaks in her otherwise red hair were the only clues hinting at her true age.
The Inquisitrix’s rule over Vorsalos was unquestioned these days, but that hadn’t been the case back when I had been a little girl. She had fought a long and brutal war against the other factions in the city, and she had ultimately been victorious thanks to the support of the people. A generation of murderous, pillaging men like Sobren Lecasi had made sorcerers an easy target. She had leveraged that hatred and promised the people of Vorsalos a cure.
Namely, us.
“Your sisters do not believe you are capable of handling this man alone,” the Inquisitrix said after another moment. “After your latest failure, I am inclined to agree.”
“Sobren will not escape me again,” I promised. “I still have a lead—his trail isn’t cold.”
“Then perhaps your sisters should help you follow it. Faith just returned, as did Nelthara. You could ask them to—”
“I don’t need their help,” I replied a little too quickly. Even though the Inquisitrix didn’t move, I swore I could feel the temperature in the room dropping. “Adding another Huntress would only make this more difficult. I just need a little more time.”
The longer the silence lingered, the harder my heartbeat pounded in my ears. If the Inquisitrix insisted that Faith or any of my other sisters help me, then Jorem was finished. The instant they saw him they would tie him and down and bleed him for information…and not in the fun way.
I knew I shouldn’t have cared. He was still a sorcerer, after all, and he had the power to ruin countless lives if left to roam free. I had no business protecting him no matter how much I had enjoyed fucking him or feeding off his seed. No cock was worth risking my position, no matter how long and hard and perfect....
“You have never failed me before, child,” the Inquisitrix said after another long pause. “But there is always a first time.”
She casually lifted her left gauntlet. My tattoos abruptly flared to life, and my arms froze in place at my side. I tried to gasp in shock only to realize I had no control over my lungs; I had no control over anything below my neck. The vatari dust woven into my skin obeyed her and her alone. I was effectively her puppet.
“Perhaps you need a reminder of where your loyalties lie,” the Inquisitrix said. “Whom do you serve?”
“You, mistress,” I mouthed, unable to summon enough air to actually speak. “Always you.”
“I have gifted you with powers beyond anything the people of Vorsalos have ever known,” she said. “You are my Huntress. You are my Champion. You are the unquestioning symbol of my authority. Do you understand what this means?”
I tried and failed to nod. My vision was already spackled with black spots, and I could feel my consciousness slipping away second by second.
“It means that I must trust you completely,” the Inquisitrix said. “When you leave this chamber, you are my voice and my blade. You are my instrument of justice and order. If we are going to save this world from chaos, we must act as one. Always as one.”
“Yes….mistress…”
And suddenly, I was free. I collapsed onto my hands and knees, frantically gasping for breath. The Inquisitrix hadn’t exerted her control over me in several years, but it was a humbling reminder of the limits—and the price—of my awesome power.
“I trust that you will not falter,” she said, lowering her gauntlet. The rest of her body hadn’t so much as twitched; she seemed more like an ice sculpture than a real person. “Not when we are this close to victory.”
“I won’t, Your Exaltedness,” I promised, my voice sounding hollow to my own ears. “You will have Sobren Lecasi’s head soon. I swear it.”
“Very well. Then go, and do not return until you have found your prey.”
I bowed again, my entire body trembling beneath her gaze. I stood and slinked out of the chamber, still gasping for the breath when I passed the Sanctori and entered the courtyard. I didn’t dare look at or speak to anyone on the way back to my room, at which point I slammed the door behind me and glared into the mirror above my bed.
She doesn’t know about my deal with Jorem or she never would have let me leave. But she obviously suspects something, and that’s bad enough. You should just drag him back to the Castarium now and get this over with. You should abandon this horrible plan before you get yourself killed.
“Fuck,” I hissed, closing my eyes and balling my hands into fists. I had known from the beginning that Jorem was nothing but a means to an end. If I’d had any sense, I would have allowed that Brotherhood thug to shoot him last night. I could have pursued Sobren and ended his reign of terror right then and there. How many people had he killed in the past few decades? How many lives has he ruined? I could have avenged them all, but instead I had decided to take a bolt for a man—a sorcerer!—who I barely even knew.
Scowling, I drew my crossbow. I almost shot the mirror off its hooks, but I snarled and chucked the weapon onto my bed instead. What in the bloody hell had gotten into me? I never hesitated like this. I never doubted myself like this. From the first moment the Sanctori had opened the gates and walked me into the Castarium, I’d had a clear, consistent purpose.
Unlike most of the other Huntresses, I hadn’t been rescued from abuse or poverty or slavery. I had volunteered to join the regime the instant I’d turned thirteen. I had always supported the Inquisitrix and her quest for law and order, even back when I barely understood what those things meant. Rogue sorcerers and their uncontrolled magic had done enough damage to this city for two lifetimes.
And yet…
They aren’t all alike, no matter how much easier that would be. Jorem Farr is not Sobren Lecasi. Whatever his motives, he has probably saved more lives with his healing magic than any priest in Highwind. Should he be killed for that “crime?” And what about all the other children he mentioned, the adepts captured by groups like the Brotherhood and forced into servitude? Did they deserve death and torment as well?
And what about the Inquisitrix herself?
I swallowed and glanced down at my bare midriff. My tattoos had faded, but I could still feel a fragment of the Inquisitrix’s power crawling around inside me. She was a sorceress too, obviously, though her powers weren’t like any other channeler I had ever known. I should have been immune to her magic, but somehow I was actually more vulnerable to it. Didn’t that make her the enemy as well? Didn’t it make her a giant hypocrite, at the very least?
Does it matter? Without her, this city falls back into chaos. Without her, even more vulnerable people will be tormented by vile men like Sobren Lecasi.
“Without her,” I whispered, “I am nothing.”
***
> Vorsalos’s sprawling aqueduct system was practically a second city. The labyrinthine tunnels had been a haven for fugitives, slavers, and lotus smugglers for decades, and even the current regime had never had the resources or personnel to properly flush all of them out. Jorem had made his home in an out-of-the-way cubby that wasn’t actually on any of the original designs, and I retraced my steps to avoid all the traps he had placed along the way.
I arrived in the middle of the night several hours before our scheduled rendezvous, partially because I wanted to surveil him and partially because I really didn’t want to spend any more time in the Castarium than I had to. I half expected him to be waiting at the door to his cubby with a crossbow in his hand, but to my surprise he was actually sleeping like a normal person.
So either he’s a total fool or he trusts me not to murder him. And since I know that any sorcerer who has survived into his twenties can’t be a fool…
I choked back another wave of self-disgust as I camped in the shadows of the cubby and watched him. A few hours ago, I had almost talked myself into striding in here and shooting him just to get the Inquisitrix’s noose off my neck. I probably couldn’t find Sobren without him, but at least then I could go and work with Faith or Nelthara or whoever guilt-free. Failure was far more palatable than betrayal.
But I wasn’t actually going to do that, of course, especially now that I was here in person looking at him again. There was something about him, something I couldn’t explain. From the first moment I had started shadowing his movements across the city, I had felt a connection with him. At first I had just assumed it was my hunger talking, but this went beyond mere gluttony or even lust. I had been genuinely flirting with him at that Brotherhood party, and not just because I enjoyed wrapping men around my finger. I genuinely wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to like me.
What in the bloody hells was going on?
“You’re early,” Jorem said into the silence.
