Tradition Be Damned

by Rebecca Royce

  They looked at one another, unreadable expressions on their faces. My shoulders sagged. Sister Weirdness had struck them again.

  “Ah, Sister Anne,” Four spoke up first. “Why can’t you call us for sex? It’s somewhat traditional among the sisters and the guards.”

  “Because it’s wrong. Sex should be consensual, not a job requirement. You left lives to come here. Bad enough you risk yours. You’re going to go back to your girlfriends or whomever you’ve left back home, and you don’t need to think about a time I forced you to have sex with me.” I shook my head. “That’s not really a turn on for me anymore than it would be for you.”

  Silence met my statement. I nodded, pretending I didn’t want to sink into the floor. “Well, make yourselves comfortable.”

  “Sister Anne.” Five caught my attention. “Please, we can’t turn you away from your bed.”

  I shook my head, the hood flapping around. I needed to adjust it. “I insist. None of you would fit on that couch. It’s perfect for me. I’m small of height. Oh, there’s plenty of food in the cabinet.” I pointed to the one in the corner. “And anything you need, let me know. This room, the bedroom, bath, and my dressing room are my space.”

  Before anyone could speak, I hightailed it in to the dressing room. Inside, I closed the door then ripped the hood off. Why couldn’t we wear masks? A full hood with only my eyes visible felt like torture day in and day out.

  I sunk onto my couch and pulled out the books I’d set up to get me through the night. I needed to get better versed on managing my own powers. Other people weren’t driven to venture to the holes and grab babies. I would always be glad I had, but I couldn’t make a habit of it. I started to read. Or at least I pretended to. After a while, I heard the low murmur of their voices in my sitting room. It was comforting to hear noise. So much of my life was spent in silence.

  Someone laughed, then someone cleared his throat. They were normal, easygoing sounds. I didn’t hear loud proclamations of my insanity, and no one had come in to demand they were going to leave. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Eventually, I drifted to sleep. When I woke again, the room was dark, and the sound of breathing from the floor caught my attention. It was a deep sound, not quite snoring, but rhythmic, the sounds of someone sleeping. I’d gotten used to the noise when I’d lived in the nursery.

  But not since. I quickly looked around to find Two asleep on the floor, his head tucked under his arms, one of the blankets covering his body. What was he doing? I’d made them beds. The floor was not comfortable.

  I tiptoed over. The moon shining through the window told me it was late. I should put on my hood, but it was dark and he’d already seen my face once. I gently touched his arm, and he came awake.

  “Sister?” His voice was low, rhythmic, and musical. I’d never get to hear him talk to me for a length of time, but I loved the small doses of it I got on occasion.

  “What are you doing on the floor in here?”

  He sat up. “I knocked and peeked in. You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. So I laid down here.”

  “Okay, thank you for the description.” I’d try again. “But why?”

  He fiddled with his blanket. “You’re nearby. Whenever you’re nearby, I need to protect you. With a door between us, I can’t. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep knowing you were close but I couldn’t get to you fast.”

  Two was the one who always caught me first. “Really? Because my bed is really comfortable. I bet you could sleep in it pretty well.”

  He shook his head. “Not going to happen, Sister.”

  “You are really amazing at your job.” The moonlight bathed him in her glory, and he looked almost unreal.

  Two cleared his throat. Was he getting sick? “My job. Right. Yes.”

  “Did I just make you uncomfortable?” I hated not knowing what to do or say. Were compliments totally off limits?

  He shook his head, coming up to his knees. “No.”

  “I can’t have you on the floor. I grabbed all those mattresses. Surely one of them would have worked. Or my bed. Is it totally taken?”

  Two touched the edge of my gown and then dropped his hand. “No one is sleeping in your bed. That’s your bed. We’d all rather you get in it. There was some debate about carrying you to it. But then we decided that would be inappropriate.”

  He was probably right. I stood. “Well then, come on. We’ll share.”

  His eyes widened. “Share?”

  “It’s big. I’ll sleep on one side, you on the other. You can keep me safe in there. Just think that if I’d ordered you to sleep with me, you’d have been in it anyway.”

  My final statement seemed to spur him. He grabbed his blanket and followed me out of the dressing room. Sleep sounds resonated from the sitting room, and even though I couldn’t see them, I guessed they’d all turned in for the night .

  Two followed close behind me, and we managed to make it into the bedroom with no one the wiser that we’d snuck around. I climbed into one side of the bed, more dressed than I ever was for sleeping, and Two got into the other. We lay together in the dark. This was the first time I’d shared a bed with a man. I didn’t feel weird, just warm.

  He was like a radiator of heat, and I’d been feeling cold.

  “Sister?”

  I rolled onto my side. Thanks to the moonlight, I could still see him pretty well. “Would it be really weird in these circumstances for you to call me Anne?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Not if you call me Mason. And just tonight. I can’t call you Anne at other times. It would be wrong.”

  “Mason it is. Just tonight.”

  He rolled onto his side. “You called yourself a fisherman’s redheaded wife.”

  I touched the top of my head, which reminded me I was hoodless. I’d have to fix that first thing in the morning. “Not much hair left, but what’s there is red, that’s right.”

  He reached out and put his hand on my nearly bald scalp. It was the most intimate touch I’d ever experienced. I didn’t dare move lest he stop it. “They sheared it off. That’s a crime.” He dropped his hand. “I didn’t know they made you bald under the hood.”

  “Every few weeks. My hair grows fast.” I wanted this man to like me. Was it possible he’d warmed up to me a bit?

  Mason inched slightly closer to me. “Where I’m from, fishermen are rich. We all need of them. Food grows so badly in the Deadlands. But fishermen come with their fare, and we scramble to buy it. Fish is a luxury. Their wives are lovely.”

  “Ah.” My heart broke a little. “So I don’t even qualify for that. Sister Katrina told me that was what I looked like. So maybe I need a better description. Dog catcher’s wife?”

  He took my hand. “You misunderstand me. Anne, you are lovely. We don’t care about redheaded nonsense in the Deadlands. There’s good, and there’s bad. You are so good and lovely. Any fisherman would be lucky. Men would line up.”

  It took me a moment to answer him. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.”

  He squeezed my fingers in his. “Go to sleep, Anne. They might call you tomorrow. You need to be rested.”

  I doubted it. They tended to keep us home when it snowed. But that was okay. I appreciated the care. Mason didn’t hate me. I was sure of it. I was weird, and maybe he didn’t know what to do with me. But he was kind. I’d take it.

  I woke up some time later, and it was still dark. I must have rolled over in the middle of the night, and Mason slept close to me, his arm over my waist, his body pressed against mine. My powers were on, big time. He breathed in my ear, slowly, the slightest moan on his exhale.

  Why were my powers on? I sensed no evil. With my body on high alert, I could see Mason’s light shining brightly against me. It was warm, as was the man who radiated the heat. I moved slightly to look around. I hadn’t woken up with unexplained powers since I was thirteen.

  That was when I felt h
im. Asleep, he was hard against me. His cock jutted out from his pants, pushed against my rear end. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. I’d never made a man hard before. Sure, he was asleep, and maybe he dreamed of a beauty from back home. I wasn’t going to overthink it. He was in my bed, and he was sexually aroused.

  It still didn’t explain my powers problem.

  He sat up slightly, pulling me toward him, and moved until he could see my face. “Anne, your powers. Why are they on?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  Mason stroked my cheek. “I can always feel your powers. Like a gust of wind on a hot day. My whole body craves the feeling. Since the moment I met you … never mind. Why are they on? Your eyes can’t lie.”

  “I don’t know.” My voice shook, and I looked away. “I can’t see or feel anything wrong. I’m aching for something, and it won’t tell me what.”

  He was so quiet I was sure I’d scared him off. The one man who doesn’t hate me, and I wake up with a power jolt that can’t …

  His mouth came down on mine, ever so slightly. My body buzzed. I raised my head a bit to meet his kisses, and he deepened the embrace. Seconds later, he adjusted our positions until we were side-by-side, facing each other again.

  Mason kissed me. Over and over. I could have gotten drunk from the sensation. His mouth was tender on mine, and with every exhale he let out the slightest moan, which almost seemed like a plea for more. Although he made no moves to change where his hand lay on my side, I could feel the hardness that had been there before increase in size.

  I’d had lots of sexual lessons. I knew what his erection meant, and my own core throbbed with need. My declarations on consent hit me hard.

  I pulled back slightly to look him in his eyes. They were dazed, unfocused. Mason tried to kiss me again, and I stopped him by placing my fingers on his lips. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Anne, is there some part of this that seems to you like I don’t want to be doing? I want you. Even before I saw your face. I want your … it’s hard to explain. When they came to tell us we were coming here tonight, I got excited.” He kissed my fingers. Once, then again. And again.

  His words fueled my excitement. I reached between us to touch his hard length where it pushed at his pants. He closed his eyes. “You don’t have to do that, Anne.”

  “I want to. It excites me.” I stole his word for my use. My powers buzzed. Whatever reason they’d turned on, this wasn’t bothering them in the least. Mason’s light bathed me in his warmth. I could stay like this forever. “Can I touch you?”

  He nodded once. “Yes.”

  We moved around in the bed until he could take off his pants and underwear. His cock cried out for attention, and I stroked him gently. He sucked in his breath. “So sweet. Please more. Harder.”

  I did as he instructed, and it wasn’t long till he throbbed in my hand. The little moans he made increased in length, and his mouth found mine. We kissed in rhythm to the way I stroked him. His hands moved fast, finding the bottom of my skirt and raising it until he could thumb my panties. One finger slipped inside. I was wet like I sometimes was when I woke up needy, thinking of my faceless men.

  His finger pressed inside of me, finding the spot that pulsed when I dreamed of sex. He rubbed, and it was my turn to moan into his mouth. His cock jerked in my hand at the sound. I couldn’t tell what was my powers burning or my body or if it mattered at all what the difference was. He pinched my clit, and I came hard around his fingers. With his free hand he pulled my head to his, consuming me with his mouth. My own hand was wet with his seed, and we both panted hard.

  He pulled back to look at me, his eyes still heated with lust. “Wow.”

  “That was okay?” I’d never done it before. I knew he had found release, but I was sure there were ways I could have done better.

  “Better than all the times I imagined it.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve imagined it?”

  He took my hand and brought it to his mouth. “Wait here one second.”

  His absence from the bed made me cold, and I shivered. It was like being plunged into an ice storm after bathing in the sun. I shivered violently and dug into my pillow. He came back, slipping into the bed.

  “Why are you shaking?”

  “Cold.” I hoped he couldn’t hear my teeth chattering.

  Mason pulled me against him, a rag he must have gone to get in his hand. He wiped me gently and then himself before discarding the rag on the bedside table. He rubbed my back, and some of the ice went away. “I can keep you warm. For tonight.”

  “Can you tell me anything about yourself, Mason? You said you’re from the Deadlands. Anywhere specific?”

  He grinned. “Can’t tell from my accent?”

  “I’m so sheltered. I don’t know the difference.”

  “Fair enough.” He yawned and then kissed my hand. “I like that about you. I like that you’ve not been … battered out there. I like that you have a heart to save everyone. I’m from the northernmost tip of the badlands. The way I say my Rs, that’s the giveaway. Only northern Deaders sound like me. My dad died when I was a baby, and my mother raised six of us sewing and doing wash. I’m the last of the group, the only boy.”

  He would never be Two to me again. I’d always think of him as Mason, even if I had to call him Two. “She sounds so strong.”

  “She is. Other people failed, but she never did. My father died in the mines. I decided to try for a position here so I wouldn’t have to go down there. Evil things are down there.”

  I knew that. Or at least I’d heard that about the mines. “Would you like me to see if I can go down there and get them? Those evil things.”

  Mason stilled. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes. Even if it wasn’t your story. Even if it was a stranger. I mean, I guess we’re kind of still strangers. Even though we did this amazing thing. I had to ask you where you were from.”

  “I don’t want to be a stranger to you or you to me. I want to know you. I know that’s wrong. I know you don’t really belong to me. I have to give you back in four years. Three will take One’s place, I’ll never be One unless something—and I’m horrified to even think what I’m going to say, I don’t want it—happens to One. He and I will stop at the same time. Four will be me. Five will be three, and two new people will have the gift of being your guards.”

  I ran my hand through his thick hair. He smelled like soap, and it was a heady sensation to speak to him in the moonlit darkness like this. “You speak kind words. I’m successful but weird. It can’t be easy.”

  “Anne, if only I could explain it to you. They teach us how to talk during training. They fix us so we’re more attractive and clean up our language. They tell us what the Sisters will be like. You’re nothing like them.”

  I steeled my heart. “I know.” I was wrong. A round peg in a square hole. The wrong kind of Sister.

  “They’ll never let you go there. No one clears the Deadlands.”

  I would see. We had some discretion. If I claimed to be called to go, they wouldn’t deny me. And really, what was more of a calling than this night? My one taste of pleasure and kindness.

  “You need to sleep, Anne. Your eyes are still glowing.” The more frequently they glowed, the faster I would lose the color in them.

  “When I’m like this, I can see you glow, too. All white light around you. Beautiful.”

  He sat up on his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “Really?”

  “You all do. Every time I take out a demon, I can see all of you. Like the baby in the hole the other night. I’d come for you too out there.”

  Mason stroked my arm. “Power down. You need to rest.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I can’t sleep when it’s on like this.”

  He tugged me to his chest. “You can. Rest in my arms. Power down. Whatever triggered it tonight, you have nothing you need to do.”

>   I listened to his heartbeat. He was right. Eventually I fell asleep. I didn’t dream.

  I woke up to a shifting in the bed. Three lay down next to me, on the other side from where Two had slept. “Sorry to disturb. But you need your hood. Your ladies come in the morning, right? We wouldn’t want them to tell anyone you were hoodless.”

  Three—Garrett—gently handed it to me. “Thank you for thinking of it.”

  “Bugger off, man.” Mason swatted at him. “Too early.”

  “Unfortunately, not.” He pushed at Mason. “Get up. Get dressed. I can send Bryant in.”

  Mason groaned. “No, give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

  Garrett didn’t move. “Are you okay, Sister?”

  Hearing the term made me want to wince. I was lying in bed with one of my guards, hoodless, as vulnerable as I could remember being, and I was still “Sister.” It would always be so. Only in the darkness could I be Anne.

  “Her powers turned on in the middle of the night.” Mason squeezed my arm. “She’ll be okay. I imagine she needs more rest.”

  Garret furrowed his brow. “Any idea why?”

  “None, actually.”

  Mason bounded out of bed, stretching his arms over his head. “I feel fantastic. Every muscle in my body is loose.”

  So did I. Tired but easy in a way I’d never been before. I wasn’t going to analyze why too closely.

  “If we come back here again, I’m guarding her.” Three had spoken more in the last minutes than I’d ever heard him before.

  Mason nodded. “None of us get to own her; for a brief period of time in our lives we can share.”

  “If she lets us.” Garrett’s gaze stared out the window. I wondered if he saw the snow or if it was something else.

  Four

  Two—I had to think of him as Two so I didn’t call him Mason— did pushups on the floor of my sitting room, and One stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “What’s happening here? I have to drag you out of bed.”