Psychic Awakening: A Dragon Shifter LitRPG Harem Psychic Thriller (Primus Vitae Book 1)

by Terrance Thorndyke

  “You’re giving me a vocabulary lesson so I know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Zuha burst into laughter and, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, and the hostile eyes of her maid and butler affixed to his back, Wilburn followed after her.

  Chapter Five

  “We are primuses, that’s plural for primus,” Zuha said, several minutes later when they’d both settled into comfortable but refined leather chairs in a classic study overlooking a well-lit garden behind the house.

  “That means that we have transitioned from regular humanity, the imus, to a higher, elevated state of being and awareness,” Zuha explained. “We are…it’s hard to explain. Especially to another primus. We all grow up knowing what we are, you understand?

  The blonde maid, Belinda, entered carrying a tray that gave off a gentle rattle as its contents were delicately brought over to them. She set the tray down beside Zuha, leaning forward as she did so and giving Wilburn what would have been a very lovely view had his eye not been drawn so firmly to the firearm holstered at the small of her back. She poured coffee for Zuha then added a liberal amount of cream.

  She glanced over at him, her expression neutral, but Wilburn clearly heard, in a somewhat reluctant tone, He’s cute. He swallowed. He hadn’t really paid attention to Belinda before. He did now though. She was buxom in the best possible sense, and though he knew she was several years older than him, the way she’d styled her hair made her seem a little bit younger. Her eyes were a little too hard for him to believe the innocent act though, especially when, as she approached him to pour his coffee, he heard, I hope I don’t have to kill him.

  “Creamer?” she asked with a gentle smile.

  “Please,” Wilburn said, trying to sound confident and sure of himself.

  “Belinda,” Zuha said, making the made jerk upright and turn to face her.

  “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Wilburn is my good friend,” Zuha said. “And is to be extended every trust and courtesy. When you return with cookies, please leave the gun behind.”

  Belinda gave a curtsey, her face red. “Yes, Mistress.”

  She hurriedly finished preparing Wilburn’s coffee and left the room, glancing back at him briefly. This time the look wasn’t accompanied by the sound of her thoughts.

  “Wilburn,” Zuha said, drawing his attention back. She had a teasing smile on her face. “Did you understand everything I was saying?”

  He nodded. “We’re wizards, the rest of the world is muggles.”

  Zuha wrinkled her nose. “There’s no such thing as wizards. What’s a muggle?”

  Wilburn blinked. “You’ve never read Harry Potter? You’ve at least seen the movies, right?”

  Zuha shook her head. “No. But whatever that is, it is just a story. I’m talking about something real. What we can do isn’t magic. It’s…it’s just stuff that the rest of humanity isn’t advanced enough to accomplish yet. One day, maybe, but they’re nowhere near that yet. For now…well, it’s hard to relate to someone when you can make them do whatever you want.”

  “You mean there’s a whole group of people out there who can control other people’s minds?” Wilburn asked.

  “Sort of,” Zuha replied, a little uneasily. “Domination is a popular discipline among primuses. It’s usually how we settle disputes and establish our Houses and territories. But calling it mind control is a bit of a stretch. The most obvious and well-used ability is called, Suggestion.” She smiled at this, and gave him a look that, if he didn’t know better, he would have called shy. “You wielded it wonderfully against me earlier.”

  Wilburn blinked. Was she saying that she had liked him giving her a ‘Suggestion?’ Wilburn took a sip of coffee and savored it a moment. This conversation was too confusing for his confused and tired brain to operate without it.

  “Do you know anything about hypnotism?” she asked suddenly, jarring him out of that train of thought before it could turn into a fiery wreck.

  “Uh, not really,” he admitted.

  “This branch of Tower of Domination is a lot like it, though more direct. If you talk to an actual hypnotist, they’ll swear up and down that they cannot make anyone do something that they don’t want to do already but that’s not quite true. When they get someone into a deeply hypnotized state, they can present the hypnotized person with binary options—the human brain loves these by the way—and can create all kinds of logic traps to eventually shape or control the hypnotized person. Suggestion operates similarly, only it bypasses all the hypnotizing at the forefront. The more someone is already inclined to do what you are suggesting, the more likely you’ll get them to do what you want. Someone skilled in subtlety and suggestion is incredibly dangerous and can do some extraordinary things.”

  Zuha stopped her and picked up her coffee. She took a long inhale and savored the aroma for a moment before bringing the mug to her lips and taking a long drink.

  “That’s actually kind of terrifying to think about,” Wilburn said.

  Zuha shrugged. “Welcome to reality. This is what exists behind the façade civilization would like to present to you. We are the true powers in the world. By the way, it’s more difficult to give a suggestion to a primus, but as you obviously proved, it is very possible.” Again, that shy smile.

  “You said that Primuses aren’t wizards,” Wilburn said slowly. “That what we can do isn’t magic.” He gestured up and down at her. “I’m not sure how transforming yourself like that isn’t magic.”

  The smile turned into a grimace. “The body obeys the mind. This is another popular discipline. I don’t know any primus who hasn’t made at least some modification to their appearance. Sometimes the changes the Tower of Might enables are more…dramatic.” She looked away from him at this and took another drink of her coffee.

  When she was done she said, “We are the basis for most of the world’s legends. Vampires, witches, shapeshifters, all manner of monsters, even gods sometimes—the imuses world likes to pretend we don’t exist, a pretense our magi are all too happy to help maintain.”

  The door opened to readmit Belinda, who was now carrying a tray of cookies. And unless Wilburn was mistaken, she’d changed her outfit. He didn’t remember the cut of her uniform being quite so low before. It was an effort not to let his eyes linger on her bountiful breasts. She put several cookies on a smaller plate next to Zuha’s coffee, and revealing that she had, in fact, left her gun behind this time, before presenting Wilburn with his own plate.

  And a very warm smile. I’m so glad Mistress found him.

  She left, leaving Wilburn struggling to refocus himself on the conversation he’d been having with Zuha. “You’ve mentioned magis, magi, and Houses—what are they?”

  “A magis is a primus powerful enough to create a House, to dominate and claim other primuses, or make more primuses by extolling imuses.” She grinned at him. “I guess we are a lot like vampires this way. We’ve even got the whole blood thing—”

  “Blood thing?” Wilburn interrupted.

  She rolled her eyes. “Power comes in two forms. Life and death. Blood is a conduit for both of these things. You’d better get used to it. Even as powerful as you are, eventually you’ll have to recharge your energy stores and blood is one of the easier methods of doing that.”

  Wilburn made a face. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of going all Dracula on someone. He had a mental image of being in a conversation with a stranger and then lunging forward to bite them on the neck. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not the only way, some Houses don’t mess with blood, but it’s definitely one of the easier methods.”

  Wilburn suddenly remembered something. When he’d first awoken in the hospital he’d had the taste of blood in his mouth. Had he actually been given blood to consume while he’d been held prisoner? What the hell had been done to him?

  He needed to think about something else. “Why did your, uh,
maid call you Lady Frostbite? I thought your last name was Frost.”

  “My imus name is Zuha Frost,” she said, grinning. “But primuses choose a new name to be known by in our society when we come into our power. It actually helps us to control our abilities. I am called Frostbite. I can’t wait until you learn what yours is. I wish we knew who’d extolled you—that is, who raised you up from imus to primus. Usually Houses have their own internal naming tradition.”

  Zuha frowned. “Actually, it’s kind of disturbing to think that you were extolled and then set loose without a House to protect you.”

  “I’m actually finding a lot of this a little disturbing. It sounds like the whole world I’ve been living in is a lie.”

  Zuha offered him a warm smile. “Not a lie. Just not the whole of it. It’s…we can’t really explain our world to people who aren’t a part of it. It’s like…this is going to sound horrible, but it’s a lot like how animals just don’t get human society. They don’t have the tools to understand it. Maybe you have a special relationship with one, like a dog or a horse, but that doesn’t mean that they could understand what’s happening in your life.”

  “So I was a dog before?” Wilburn asked, earning a grimace from Zuha.

  “I know, it sounds awful, I’m really, really bad at this,” Zuha said. “That’s just the best comparison I can come up with. I never ever thought I’d be having a conversation like this. It’s really surreal.”

  “Because you’re talking to a dog?”

  “No,” she said. “You were a very cute dog. But no, you’re not a dog now. You’re….” she took a deep breath. “You have to be one of the stronger primuses.” She looked away, ears flattening in embarrassment. “Definitely stronger than me…and I’m only telling you that because we’re friends! I hope you understand how much trust I’m placing in you by sharing that information.”

  He wasn’t sure that he did, but he gave a nod anyway.

  Zuha gave a jerky nod of her own. “Good.”

  “Why is this so disturbing? Because I was extolled?”

  “No, not at all. Extolling someone isn’t common, at all, but I’ve never heard of someone being extolled who wasn’t immediately brought into the ranks of their extoller’s House,” Zuha said. “It’s usually very organized and deliberate. And the one to be extolled is made aware of certain things beforehand. Like, they’ve been a part of a famulus for a long time and so have an understanding of how things work.”

  She took a deep breath. “What’s been done to you…it’s like putting someone through an accelerated Special Forces training program and then turning them loose with all of their gear but no guidebook or chain of command. And you’ve got a huge target painted on your back.”

  “Why? Because I’m dangerous?”

  “Because you’re unaligned,” Zuha said. “The Houses…we exist to protect our own people. We grow and we expand and the normal world just doesn’t appose us. But other Houses do. Being part of a House means having the resources to learn how to use your powers. It also offers protection from the other Houses. We resist one another’s abilities, but as you demonstrated earlier, we are not immune.”

  “So the Houses are afraid of each other?” he asked.

  She nodded. “And you’re a prime asset to be acquired or a threat to be eliminated. You’re open and exposed.” She stood up and paced the room, tail swishing behind her. “Are you sure neither of your parents were primuses? It would make a lot more sense that you’re someone’s bastard or a secret heir hidden away, rather than someone investing the energy into extolling you—because that’s not easy—and then turning you loose without a word of explanation. That just doesn’t make sense. It’s like buying a prize-winning racehorse and then setting it free.”

  Wilburn took another sip of coffee. “I’ve gone from dog to prize-winning racehorse. I’m moving up in the world.”

  Zuha rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “You know what I mean.”

  “I think so. My parents died when I was young. I went to live with my uncle, my dad’s brother, and then he got married a few years later to my aunt and she brought her daughter with her. None of them have ever said a thing about psychics or Houses.”

  “Then it’s possible,” Zuha said, perking, but then her ears and expression fell. “Except that you should have come into your powers much earlier. There wouldn’t be a need to kidnap you…which doesn’t make sense either! If you’re going to extoll someone, it should be someone you know and trust. Someone who can be responsible with their power and use it to better your House.”

  She shook her head. “What’s been done to you flies in the face of everything I know about our traditions.”

  Wilburn finished his coffee. “That’s not comforting.”

  “It shouldn’t be. Us becoming friends is probably one of the best things that could have happened to you.” She offered him a suddenly shy smile. “I’ll help you get through this, Wilburn. I don’t know why this was done to you, but I can sense a ton of potential. And I’ll be there to help you figure out how to use it in our world.”

  Chapter Six

  Wilburn was more than a little in awe of the guest bedroom he’d been presented. It had a bed almost bigger than his room back at his apartment, an enormous television, an adjoining private bathroom, and a minifridge. It was like he’d stepped into a luxury hotel suite instead of just another room in the house.

  He stood under the hot water in the shower, which sprayed from multiple nozzles to completely soak him and with enough pressure that it was almost massaging his muscles. Sore spots he’d only been peripherally aware of were worked over and eased and by the time he got out, he was more relaxed than he’d been since before his stay in the hospital. He was still tired, but the grossness of fatigue had been stripped away and he felt more alert, his brain less crammed full of confusing facts about his new world. Or at least, his brain was digesting the new facts better.

  When he finally stepped out of the shower, a fluffy white towel had been set out for him on the bathroom counter and a toothbrush, already loaded with toothpaste waited by the sink. Wilburn stared at them for a moment. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Had Zuha been honest with him about there being no such thing as magic? It sure seemed as if these things had magically appeared.

  He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and brushed his teeth. When he stepped out into the bedroom, Belinda was there. She stood next to a heavily cushioned folding table that looked like it had a space specifically for someone’s head to rest upon and a black bag open beside it.

  “Hello, Sir,” she said with a curtsey. “How was your shower?”

  “Uh, good,” Wilburn said, making an effort to keep his eyes on her face as she dipped low and not on her breasts. He would not be rude to Zuha or her employees. They’d been nothing but good to him, apart from the misunderstanding where he’d been thrown off a building, and he was going to be polite and respectful.

  “Mistress suggested that your back might be sore,” Belinda said, cheeks flushing. “I took the liberty of bringing up my massage equipment.”

  “Thank you,” Wilburn said, wondering if there was a way he could politely turn her down.

  The look of determination on the maid’s face put any thought of not accepting her offer to rest.

  At her direction he climbed aboard the table and lay down. The cushions were remarkably plush, absorbing his weight so that it almost felt as if her were floating. Belinda’s small hand ran down the spine of his back, sending a little shiver through him, until she reached his towel. Deftly she unbound it from his waist and simply let it lay over his backside, leaving him naked underneath it and his face burning in the pillowy cushion his head rested in.

  Something warm and wet dribbled onto his back and a moment later, those small but strong hands returned, gliding over his flesh with eager expertise. Wilburn would have fallen asleep he was so relaxed, if it hadn’t felt so
good. She worked around his shoulder blades, then up his neck, which was carrying far more tension than he’d realized. By the time she moved down to his spine, a small headache he hadn’t even realized he’d had was gone. His back was a little tender from the fall earlier, no matter how expert his recovery roll had been, and so she didn’t spend quite as much time there.

  He thought she’d be done after that but instead Belinda moved down to his feet and began working out oiled fingers and knuckles into the tight spots there, slowly working her way up his legs. Her thumbs kneaded out his calf muscles and then slid further up with the help of a fresh application of oil to his hamstrings.

  Wilburn’s face burned hotter as she worked her way up higher and higher and despite his best efforts, he found himself growing aroused. It wasn’t that kind of a massage, he told himself. Belinda worked for Zuha, there was no way anything like what his erection had him imagining was about to actually happen.

  He clenched his teeth and fists as her hands moved to his inner thighs.

  “Is this okay?” she asked. “You got really tense there all of a sudden.”

  He swallowed. “It’s fine.”

  “Good,” she said, continuing for a few moments before asking, “Could you roll over please so I can get your front?”

  “Um….” If he rolled over, there’d be no way to hide his erection.

  I am going to be the best gift he’s ever received.

  That thought pulled him up. He lifted his head and looked up at her over his shoulder. Her face was red and she was biting her lower lip. She was just as nervous as he was, he realized. Maybe even more so. Terrified that he might reject her services. Might reject her.

  “Sure,” he said slowly, and rolled himself over. She gave him a nervous, grateful smile. He returned it, and she leaned forward, holding eye contact until she was over him and her hands began working his neck from the front. When she finally looked down to pay attention to what she was doing, he glanced down as well, discovering that her nipples were tenting her uniform. The sight made his erection twitch.