Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Benjamin Laskin

  To her chagrin, she recognized too many, including the pretty archivist, Clio, whom she had met earlier that day, and who was now being passed over the heads of the dancers like a rubber dinghy on the rapids of the Colorado River. Many of the cupids, Grace noted, found this a good opportunity to get in some gratuitous groping, none of which Clio seemed to mind.

  “What’ll it be?” a bartender shouted over the din, slapping a napkin down on the bar counter.

  Grace waved him off, got up, and wandered over to the sliding doors to the Middle-Eastern room, which opened automatically upon her approach. Gratefully, when the doors slid shut behind her, they choked off the blaring music to a muffled thumping.

  “Good grief,” Grace repeated, taking in the room.

  She strolled around the environs, turned a corner, and spotted a pretty celestial in a loose-fitting halter-top sitting upon the lap of a shirtless cupid soldier. The girl’s short, thin, breezy cotton skirt was pushed up to her hips, revealing a G-string. The celestial giggled as she fed the cupid grapes between his tokes on the hookah at his side.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Grace muttered to herself. The young celestial was Hera, Grace’s secretary.

  A typically beautiful celestial, Hera had flawless fair skin, and thick, long blond hair. All celestials possessed some outstanding feature, and for Hera, it was her small, captivating, steel-blue eyes.

  Grace had hired Hera based on the celestial’s agreeable nature, courteousness, and excellent test scores in analysis and logistics. Endearingly sweet and simple, Grace came to adore her in an almost motherly fashion. To see Hera in such a compromising situation both angered and embarrassed her.

  Grace was about to turn and walk away, but when she saw the cupid reach around to Hera’s backside and give the girl’s bottom a painful squeeze, she felt a surge of righteous indignation. Instead of slipping away undetected, she marched straight over to Hera, snatched her grape-feeding hand, and jerked the celestial to her feet.

  “Madam Grace!” Hera exclaimed, red-faced.

  “Hera,” Grace said, unruffled, “tomorrow is a busy day. I want you to be well-rested.”

  “Yes, Madam,” Grace stuttered, smoothing her skirt and straightening her halter-top. She bowed, and made a hasty move to leave.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” the cupid said, nabbing Hera’s hand and yanking her back onto his lap. He canoodled her neck and then stuck his tongue into her ear, his laughing eyes on Grace in a show of mocking defiance.

  “Lieutenant Jason,” Grace said diplomatically, “I see you are well-recovered from your courageous exhibition with the fear demons. I’m glad to see that my celestial nurses took such good care of you.”

  “Oh,” Jason said, “they took very good care of me. In fact, if you hadn’t butted in here, this little cutie was about to give me a check-up.”

  He buried his face into the crook of Hera’s neck and took a deep whiff of her hair, flicking his wrist at Grace to buzz off.

  “This is no way for a member of CSF [Cupid Special Forces] to behave,” Grace reproved. “Let her go and I will have seen nothing.”

  Jason withdrew his head from underneath Hera’s curtain of hair. “You will have seen nothing no matter what, Celestial, if you know what’s good for you. Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, bitch? Leave while you still have that pretty face of yours.”

  Grace didn’t flinch. “Painful as I’m sure it must be for you, Lieutenant, I outrank you. I’m ordering you to leave this girl alone, and to go home and sleep off whatever it is you’ve been ingesting.”

  Jason took a long toke from the hookah, and blew the smoke at Grace. She sniffed at the air, and frowned. That wasn’t tobacco in that hookah; that was hashish.

  Grace pulled out her communicator and waved it in front of her. “Am I going to have to call your commanding officer? I doubt that Captain Perseus will appreciate being interrupted with such news.”

  The lieutenant narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me, Celestial?” he snarled. “Because I’m warning you, I don’t handle threats well.”

  “I don’t think you handle anything well, Lieutenant,” Grace replied, glancing towards the hookah and two empty pitchers of beer beside him.

  “Yeah?” He smirked. “Then you don’t know me very well at all, lady.”

  “Let her go and we’ll be off,” Grace repeated. “No harm done.”

  In a flash, the commando was on his feet with Grace’s communicator in his hand. Hera, whom he had tossed off his lap, was sprawled face down on the Turkish rug, her face in an ashtray and her skirt flung over her back, exposing her buttocks.

  Grace quickly recovered from her surprise and helped Hera to her feet. She withdrew a handkerchief and wiped the black smudge from Hera’s teary face.

  “Come on, Hera,” Grace said comfortingly. “We’re going home.”

  “She can go,” Jason said, “but our fun is just starting, Celestial.”

  He snatched Grace’s wrist and jerked her into his arms. The lieutenant wasn’t built like Hercules, as so many other cupids were, but he was deceptively strong.

  Grace struggled to free herself, but her arms pinned to her sides, she was helpless in his embrace.

  “Madam Grace!” Hera shrieked.

  “It’s okay, Hera,” Grace said calmly, as Jason lapped at her neck. “Run. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “But…”

  “Go!” Grace ordered.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Hera blubbered, frightened. She fled sobbing out of the room.

  24

  Level 3

  “Now it’s just you and me, sweetheart.”

  “Let me go, Lieutenant,” Grace said, straining to maintain her calm. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “You’re wrong, Madam Celestial. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. I know who you are. This librarian-getup tease of yours doesn’t fool me. It only makes you hotter, and you know it.”

  The lieutenant launched himself backwards landing on the pile of fat pillows, Grace secure in his arms. The top buttons of her white blouse ripped apart and her knee-length skirt slipped up her flailing legs. He rolled her onto her back and positioned himself between her thighs. He began kissing her, his hands roaming her body in the search for flesh. Grace struggled under his weight, whipping her head side to side to avoid his sloppy kisses and stinky breath.

  “Stop it,” she cried. “Stop it or I’ll scream!”

  “No, you won’t,” Jason said, clapping his hand over her mouth. “Scream and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

  Grace opened her mouth and bit down hard on Jason’s middle finger.

  “Ow!”

  The soldier cursed and slapped Grace across the face. He ripped open her blouse, sending the buttons flying and revealing her bra.

  Grace winced in pain and humiliation.

  “I’ve heard about these babies,” Jason cackled. “The stories are true!” He buried his face into Grace’s bosom, her fists beating vainly against his back.

  “Lieutenant Jason!” came an unmistakable, gruff bark.

  Jason froze, then slowly turned his head. A ferocious scowl across his face and a snarl on his lips, he looked like a ravenous dog hovering over a juicy bone.

  The lieutenant calculated his odds. Grace was so tempting, so delicious, that in his addled state he could think of nothing but finishing what he had started. Two against one, he thought, panting, his blood racing with rage and desire.

  “Lieutenant Jason!”

  “Take a breath, soldier,” said a second voice. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  The lieutenant balked, as his mind slowly cleared like steam from a bathroom mirror. He rolled off of Grace, and smiled innocently.

  “Just having some fun, Commander,” he said. “Weren’t we, Ma’am?”

  Sett strode over to Grace and helped her up. He felt sorry and embarrassed for her as she fiddled desperately with her ripped blouse. The commander reached for one
of the blue diaphanous curtains and tore it from the wall. He draped the curtain around Grace’s shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she said, ashamed, doing her best to straighten her outfit and wipe away her tears.

  “Just a little fun,” Jason repeated, a nervous chuckle in his voice. “I had a big day in the field. Three matches and fourteen dead demons. A little celebrating, that’s all.”

  “A very big day,” Captain Abishai said evenly.

  “Yeah, Captain,” Jason said. “You know how it is, right?”

  Sett said, “Lieutenant Jason, you’re under arrest for the murder of Judge Laban.”

  “What?” Jason exclaimed. “What are you talking about? Why the hell would I do that? That’s nuts!”

  “Exactly,” Abishai said. “Why would you? On your feet soldier.”

  “But I told you, I was in the field all day. Ask Captain Perseus, he signed me out!”

  Sett roared, “Captain Abishai said on your feet!”

  Jason shook his head in disbelief and stood. When he grabbed his shirt off the floor, a round container of chewing tobacco fell from its pocket and rolled towards the feet of Captain Abishai.

  Abishai glanced over at Sett in recognition. The captain picked up the chew, opened it, and took a whiff. He tossed it to Sett.

  “What’s this?” Sett asked the lieutenant.

  “Chew.”

  “Nah,” Sett said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Huh?” Jason said, puzzled. “It’s chew, Commander, I swear. Lots of the guys chew. There’s no law against it.”

  “You’re right, Lieutenant,” Sett said. “There’s no law against chewing tobacco. But there is a law against murder.”

  “What? It’s just chew!”

  Sett nodded. “It’s also evidence. Take him in, Captain.”

  “Huh?” Jason said. “Evidence? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Abishai walked over to the lieutenant, whipped him around, and cuffed him.

  “Come on,” Jason protested. “There must be some misunderstanding. I—”

  Sett strode up to Jason and seized him by the throat. “The same sort of misunderstanding you were perpetrating on Madam Grace?” The lieutenant gagged under the commander’s iron grip. “You disgust me, Lieutenant. You’re a disgrace to CSF and anything that is holy.” Sett tossed the lieutenant’s head aside. “Captain Abishai, get this pukebag out of my face.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Abishai shoved the lieutenant ahead and frogmarched him out of the club with the end of his baton.

  Sett turned to Grace. “You okay, Ma’am?”

  “Yes, thank you, Commander,” Grace replied, still collecting herself. “How did you know I was here?”

  “I didn’t. I went looking for Lieutenant Jason and heard he was a regular here.”

  “Well, thank God you came when you did,” Grace said. She shivered at the thought of what might have happened to her. “Did Lieutenant Jason really murder Judge Laban?”

  “We believe so.”

  “But why?”

  “Dunno,” Sett said. “But I’m going to find out. I shed no tears over that old goat, but we can’t have cupids taking out judges either.”

  “Maybe someone put him up to it,” Grace said.

  “I can think of a few people who might want Laban out of the picture.”

  “Another judge, perhaps?”

  Sett shrugged. “I’m not gonna speculate, Ma’am.”

  “Sure,” Grace said. “Of course not.”

  “What about you?” Sett said.

  “Me? You think that I would—?”

  Sett laughed. “No, I mean, what’s a party-pooping fusspot like you doing in a swamp hole like this?”

  “You got me thinking this afternoon.”

  “I got you thinking? That can’t lead to any good,” he cracked.

  Grace smiled. “Apparently not. Anyway, you mentioned a few things about our underbelly here. I went to the Academy’s archives to do some research. If you come by my office, I’ll show you what I found.”

  “Ma’am, I already know what goes on around here, trust me. You think this joint is bad? This is upscale. I could show you side-street dives that afterwards would have you washing your eyes out with bleach.”

  “No doubt. But, I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?”

  “The big yesterday,” Grace clarified. “A time well before the Civil War. Things were different here, very different. The surviving documents have been censored, but the overall picture is still clear.”

  “Gee, let me guess,” Sett said wearily. “Things were better.”

  “I suppose that depends on who you’d ask,” Grace replied. “Lieutenant Jason certainly wouldn’t think so. There were no Astarte Night Clubs back then. I’m saying different. And I’m not talking about our technologies and architecture and arts. We were different, Commander. The cupids, the celestials, our relationships, our beliefs.”

  “Here we go again,” Sett yawned.

  “I’m sorry to bore you, Commander,” Grace rejoined, hurt in her voice.

  “Celestial, you do a lot of things to me, but bore is never one of them. I’m sorry but it’s been a long day. I’m not up for another sermon, that’s all.”

  “You wanted proof that what I was telling you was true. I’m offering you that proof. Classified documents that depict a time when cupids and celestials were angels.”

  “Classified? How would you get your hands on classified documents?”

  “My position entitles me to a Level 2 security clearance, same as you.”

  “I’ve perused those documents,” Sett said. “I saw no such thing.”

  “A Level 2 security clearance got me into the archives. Charm,” she winked, “got me into Level 3.”

  “Grace, I’ll be the first to admit that you could sell sand to a Saudi, but those people over there wouldn’t let you within shouting range of that room.”

  She shrugged. “You underestimate the powers of a celestial. Like I said, things were different back then.”

  Sett squinted. “What are you saying?”

  Grace smiled, a bewitching twinkle in her mercurial eyes. “Cupids aren’t the only ones with unusual hidden powers, Commander. We celestials have a distinct suite of enhanced feminine virtues.”

  “You mean wiles.”

  Grace shrugged. “Let’s just say, celestials were blessed with more than brains and beauty.”

  “So you’re telling me that Volk and those cadets aren’t the only ones who have been reading magic books.”

  “Magic has nothing to do with it, Commander. It’s emuna.”

  “What’s that, some sort of sport drink?”

  “Simple faith, Commander. The greater my emuna, the more my true nature reveals itself to me. What you saw Cadet Kohai do did not come from any magic or sports drink. It is the result of emuna.”

  “I find it hard to believe that the Academy would be holding classified documents describing such hocus-pocus.”

  “And you’d be right,” Grace rejoined. “There is nothing in them about emuna or angels. Or, if there is, it has been blacked out or otherwise expunged. But upon close inspection, what does emerge is a Heaven very different than the one we now experience. For instance, I have a copy of one of the first reports put out by the Academy.” Grace noted Sett’s arched brow. “That’s right, Commander, the Academy wasn’t established until a couple of centuries before the Civil War. Before that, we studied in something called yeshivas. Most were destroyed during the war, and today there is only one left.”

  Sett smirked. “Another guess. The one Cyrus and Volk belonged to.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Grace, I know every square inch of this place. How come I’ve never seen it?”

  “You can’t. You haven’t the eyes to see. You haven’t the adaequatio. Captain Volk took me there, and it is real.”

  “Adaequatio…I’ve
heard that word before,” Sett said, pawing his beard in thought. “Cyrus used it in the elevator on Earth when talking to the cadet after meeting with you. I didn’t know what it meant then either.”

  “It means that you can only know what you are prepared to know.”

  “Well,” Sett chuckled, “that certainly sounds like something old Cyrus would have said. You know, I actually miss that guy. He was a pain in the ass, but he was a damn good cupid. God knows we could use a guy like him right now.”

  Grace grinned. “God does know.”

  “Hey,” Sett said, having surprised even himself. “It’s just a phrase.”

  “Not coming from you it isn’t, Commander.” She rewarded him with a double-dimpled blast to the heart.

  Sett said awkwardly, “So, um, have you heard anything from that cadet?”

  “Kohai,” Grace said, turning sullen. “No, nothing.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll send a team down. Just to scout things out, you know…”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Stupid kid,” Sett muttered. “What was he thinking? And where the hell is Volk? If you see him, tell him to report to me pronto.”

  Grace nodded.

  “Everything is going to crap in a hurry,” Sett grumbled. “All right, Ma’am, let me walk you out. I got a lot to do. About a week from now I have to escort Judges Minos and Danaos down to Earth for a meeting with Hamanaeus. I need to go over the logistics and prepare a detail. It looks like the fools are going to be signing that damn Solow treaty.”

  Sett accompanied Grace out of the harem room and into the blare of the main bar. He cleared a path for them with shoves and shouts of, “Out of my way, dirtbag!”

  One tanked-up, unsuspecting cupid didn’t like being pushed. Nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze, he wheeled around with arm cocked.

  “Try it,” Sett said icily.

  The cupid squinted his commander into focus, and blanched with dread. His cocked fist hastily changed into a snapping salute. “Commander Sett, Sir!”