California Imperium

by Aaron Crash

  “If you’re trustworthy, that’s fine,” Steven said. “But you know as well as I do that I have to be careful every step of the way.”

  “Of course, which is why I’m offering you gifts.” Morty motioned for the women to stand up. Both were around Steven’s age, maybe even younger, and both looked scared and uncertain.

  Steven again thought of Pretty McGillicuddy, her past, and her soft words to him, words that broke his heart.

  “These aren’t my wives,” Morty said. “The pale one is Denise Pryce. The darker one is Fimi Eyota.”

  Chazzie snapped her fingers. “I thought I knew them.” She giggled, then tried to sober but failed. “Denise is Tiano Helge’s wife, his youngest. They’re from the Dakota Primacy. As for Fimi, Lawrence Candler snapped her up. They’re from the Farmlands Primacy.”

  Steven chanced a guess. “But they aren’t... not really. Both Helge and Candler work for you, don’t they, Morty? You own those two Primacies, but you let everyone think you don’t.”

  Morty smirked. It didn’t come across as self-serving. No, it was more like fatherly pride. Steven had seen his stepfather give him that same look when Steven had won a hand of Texas Hold ’Em, bluffing his father when there were just a few too many clubs on the flop. “That’s right, Steven. But no more. Both Primacies are yours now.”

  In one swoop, Morty had given him Nebraska, Iowa, Kansas, and Missouri as well as the Dakotas and Minnesota. Steven felt the enormity of the gift, but he showed nothing to Morty Flint.

  Steven sipped his drink. The whiskey went down smooth and warmed his belly nicely. But he was hungry. “Chazzie,” he said. “I’d like chicken wings. Buffalo wings, as spicy as you can get them. Can you help me out?”

  Chazzie laughed. “A little celebration feast? Ha. I don’t have a phone on me. Maybe Morty can help me out?”

  “Extra ammo in the purse?” Morty asked.

  “Does it show?” Chazzie asked with a giggle.

  Morty handed her his phone. Then he let his intense stare rest on Steven.

  Chazzie put her H&K 416 on the counter, then left the living room to call in their order from the bedroom. Good, she could make sure no one skulked there. A heartbeat later, when there were no screams, no surprised shouts, and no firestorms, he knew it was okay.

  Steven let Morty stare at him as he took another drink of whiskey. Let the fucker stare as long as he didn’t go for the assault rifle on the bar. Steven surprised himself by wishing that Morty would do just that. It would be easier than having to maneuver through the landmines of this supposed peace offering.

  Steven’s left hand was on the bar. Morty’s eyes went to his missing pinkie finger. He thought the Great Lakes Prime was on the verge of saying something, but he didn’t. To Steven, that lost finger was a reminder that this wasn’t a game. The stakes were as real as his flesh, his blood, his very life.

  More than once, Tessa had sung about Steven, the nine fingers, and the ring of doom. That girl, such an LOTR geek.

  Morty finally broke. “I give you about half a million miles of property and you want chicken wings? Not sure if I’m insulted or impressed. Who are you, Steven Drokharis? Are you really a human orphan turned sorcerer?”

  “I’m a Dragonsoul, like my father before me,” Steven said. “But I grew up human and poor. It’s given me some perspective. I’m going to change things. For us and for the humans. I’ll take your offer, Morty, but I don’t want Helge or Candler skulking about. They’re out.”

  “Yes, they are,” Morty agreed. “I gave them my Canadian holdings. Lawrence is fat and doesn’t care much about much. As long as he gets to keep his Escort and his buffets, he’ll be fine. As for Helge, he understands how things have to be. He is a realist. I respect that.”

  Steven left the bar. He approached Denise, who shivered under his gaze. Denise’s hair was nearly white, and her skin creamy. Her blue eyes were shocking in comparison. She was like a porcelain doll—just as fragile. Fimi was her polar opposite in a lot of ways—big brown eyes, copper-colored skin, and straight black hair. Steven felt the sexual energy between him and the women. He had to take them into his care. And maybe more? His eyes went to their breasts, down their flat bellies, to the flare of their hips. And their legs, shapely, perfect, without a blemish.

  “What do you think of them?” Morty asked.

  “Fabulous prizes,” Steven whispered, and his heart felt sick. Candler and Helge would’ve donated the wives they cared the least about. These poor girls, they might’ve thought they were safe under the protection of a Dragonlord Prime, but here they were, cast out to the wind with only the clothes on their backs.

  Abby Free had referred to the Five Widows as trash, tossed out. Pretty had used different language. She had called them pets.

  The memories of Pretty in Australia hit Steven hard. The girl-next-door beauty, lying on her back, face turned to him, her soft pink lips parted and tears in her eyes. You don’t mean it, Steven. You say the words, but you don’t mean them.

  Steven steeled his heart because if he didn’t, he might get tears in his own eyes. He turned from the two women. “You two should sit on the couch.” Denise and Fimi complied.

  He noticed Pru’s eyes follow them. What was that all about?

  Steven walked back to the bar and sat down in front of his half-filled whiskey glass. “Okay, so Denise and Fimi come with me. I’m sure your attorneys have already contacted Novak, Boaz, & Jessup to draw up the papers about the transfer of the two Primacies into my ownership. But you said something about cash. How much?”

  More laughter from Morty. “You are a cheeky bastard. No, that is the extent of the deal. You get the Primacies, the wives of the two Primes, and my word. That is priceless, like in the credit card commercials the humans like.”

  “Your word on what?” Steven asked.

  “My word that I will not make a move against you if you don’t move against me. And that when the time comes to fight the Zothoric, I’m with you. You will have me, my wives, all my vassals. You’re ready to fight them, aren’t you?” Morty paused, his face going deadly serious. “You used portal magic to get here. That means you don’t care if they find our world.”

  Chazzie returned. “I offered a local joint ten thousand dollars to deliver a hundred wings in ten minutes. We’ll see how them humans do.” She stumbled, but Pru caught her. “What’d I miss?”

  Pru filled her in.

  Chazzie whistled and careened back to the bar and sat down. She patted her gun. “Oh, Morty, and I thought I’d get to shoot someone tonight. But I guess peace is good in these troubled times.” She stopped talking, blinking while her soused brain tried to catch up. Or was it an act? Knowing the Wayne twins as he did, he bet Chazzie was just fine, and more sober than anyone in the room.

  “He cares about the Zothoric, more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Chazzie erupted. “Steven hid his portal magic, but we won’t say how. He’s the real deal, Morty. You know us. You knew we were with Carlo Bart because he was weak, and we could do what we wanted. But Steven here? No, he wants to travel the universe and give me and Pru whole worlds to enjoy. He wants to create a heaven on this here Earth. Now, my question to you.” She aimed a wobbling finger at the Great Lakes Prime. “You, Morty, Mort, Mort, are you going to stand in our way? Or are you going to help us?”

  Morty dropped his eyes. “I had a Magician, an old, old woman, a real sorceress. It was years ago—”

  “Decades?” Chazzie prodded. “Centuries?”

  The wily old Dragonsoul grinned. “You’re gorgeous, Chazzie, and I’ll be thinking about your tits later, but no, I’m not going to admit how old I am. Either you’ll think I’m younger than I look, and that puts me in a defensive position, or you’ll think I’m an old fool. Also, not ideal.” He continued. “It was years ago. She used Divination magic. She showed me the Zothoric. If they find us, they will kill us in the streets. They will sweep through the humans like they were ants. This blue-green gem will become a dark de
ad marble. I’ve seen, firsthand, what the Zothoric can do.”

  Chazzie turned to Steven. “I think the fucker is trying to tell us he’s in, but he’s scared shitless.”

  That word firsthand echoed through Steven’s head. Even more telling? Morty didn’t contradict what Chazzie said about being scared shitless. In fact, the Dragonlord poured himself another drink and didn’t say a word until the doorbell rang.

  “Looks like your wings are here,” Morty Flint said. “And I hope you have enough to share.”

  “I do,” Steven said. “I hope we can be friends, Morty, I really do.”

  Morty raised his glass. “To friendship.”

  They toasted and ate wings until Steven’s phone rang. He answered it, and it was Bud. He was at the Eagle County Regional Airport, down I-70 a bit. He was meeting Skylar, who’d flown the others in on the jet. And yeah, Bud exploded about the news. They had two huge Primacies to add to their holdings.

  While Bud chatted, Steven realized something. Chazzie could’ve called in their order using his phone, but no, she’d grabbed Morty’s. And without a doubt, she’d gone through it.

  Once again, Steven was glad the Wayne twins were on his side. But what had Chazzie learned? And would it damn Morty? Or confirm that he was the most powerful ally Steven had at the moment, maybe even more trustworthy than Javier Jones? At least fewer decapitated heads were involved. Was that a good thing?

  Steven wasn’t sure. At one point, he asked Morty, “Do you know anything about someone named Spider Finger?”

  Morty shrugged. “Goddamn dragons these days. Everyone has a gimmick. I don’t know Spider Finger, but he’s about, weaving a web, I have no doubt. If I hear something, I’ll get in touch with you.”

  Steven went out on a limb and gave Morty his private cell phone number. Seemed only fair, since they had the Great Lakes Prime’s number. And some very tasty bits of information gleaned from his phone.

  Chapter Five

  THERE WAS TROUBLE AT the Eagle County Regional Airport, which served Vail and the surrounding cities. The snow was falling thick, so Skylar and the jet had been grounded. The authorities thought they’d be out by morning as the storm was moving fast through the valley.

  Morty left around midnight. He’d insisted they keep the suite, which he’d paid for, and by that time, Steven was feeling pretty good. Yes, Morty had definitely lured him into trusting him. But this was what Steven wanted: a coalition of Dragonsouls who would stop fighting each other to fight the Zothoric, which would allow them all to be free. Other than Javier Jones, Morty had been the first Dragonlord to talk to him rather than try to kill him.

  Denise and Fimi, in their lingerie gowns, stood uncertainly, their bodies warm and glowing. He felt himself drawn to his two new wives, but that wasn’t sitting right with him, not right at all.

  He kept thinking about what Pretty had said and the tears in her eyes. You say the words, but you don’t mean them.

  He rented Denise and Fimi another suite. He could afford it, without a problem. He wasn’t sure if the two new women were relieved or disappointed, but they left. Before they did, Pru gave them one of the H&K 416s.

  Fimi took the rifle. “Thank you, Prudence. But you should know we’re Dragonsouls. We can shift. Denise can even do a shield spell.”

  Chazzie kept a straight face. Pru laughed. “Well, a shield spell, impressive. Bless your little heart.” Pru gave the woman a condescending little pat on the bottom and sent them on their way.

  I was a pet, Steven. I was their pet.

  Steven gritted his teeth and grabbed Pru by the arm. He spoke low and locked eyes with her. “You can’t treat them like that. They’re people, and we’re going to be better than that.”

  Pru wasn’t cowed in the least. She turned and peeled down her dress to reveal her big chest and wide pink nipples floating above her flat stomach.

  Steven’s mouth went dry.

  Pru cooed. “Stevie, them girls aren’t nothing for you to worry about. But you did want them, didn’t you? I saw you look. Even I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. I thought I was straight until tonight.”

  Chazzie came up from behind Steven and pressed her body against his. Her hands cupped the hard muscles of his chest. “And I saw you both drooling over them. It got me fired up. I didn’t wear panties, ’cause I was hoping tonight we’d get a little alone time.”

  Chazzie’s hand went lower to grip the growing bulge that was making the tailored suit uncomfortably tight. “Oh, well look at that. Are you looking at Pru’s tits? Or are you thinking about Denise and Fimi joining us? They would, you know. That power you have, it’s got them frisky. I bet if they swing both ways, they’re on that nice bed in the suite across the hall, making each other come and come and come. And if they’re straight? They’re rubbing themselves, thinking of you, thinking of what you’ll do to them.”

  Steven turned around, grabbed Chazzie’s hips, and pulled her to him. She smelled bubble-gum sweet with a hot musk underneath. He loved how the twins smelled, and with two of them, that smell was doubled, tripled, quadrupled. The whole suite stank of their hot lust.

  Chazzie kissed him, moaning as her tongue found his. Even as they kissed, he eased the straps of her dress over her shoulders, but it was so tight, it wasn’t going to just fall.

  She knew what he wanted. She stepped back and wriggled herself out of the fabric. Every shake made her breasts dance. She was a sensual animal, disrobing for him, dancing, swaying, as hypnotic as a cobra. It was like a burlesque show in Vegas, except he wasn’t a client. Chazzie wanted him bad. He could see it in her eyes, in the blush of her cheeks and her slightly parted lips.

  Behind him, he heard Pru’s dress drop. And then she was reaching around, expertly undoing his belt, his pants, and then stripping them down to his shoes. She kissed an ass cheek.

  His heart pounded and his lungs worked, but he couldn’t get enough oxygen, and his mind whirled. Already, the kiss, their touch, the energy of them was filling his empty Animus reserves.

  “We don’t have to have sex together,” Steven said. “At the same time, I mean.”

  “He’s sweet, isn’t he, Pru?”

  “Adorable,” Pru said, smacking his ass.

  “Edible?” Chazzie said, getting on her knees in front of him.

  “Definitely.” Pru pressed her breasts against his back as Chazzie took him in her mouth. “Are you going to liberate us, Stevie?” Steven’s eyes unfocused as Chazzie went to work. “Are you going to protect us from all those big, bad Dragonlords who want to tell us what to do with ourselves?” She bit down playfully into the meat of his shoulder, and her hand slid between his legs. She ran her fingers over his right nipple while her left hand slid over the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How about it, Stevie? You gonna be a dragon or are you our white knight? Or maybe you are both.”

  Chazzie did something amazing with her tongue, and Steven leaned his head back on Pru’s shoulder with a sigh. It wasn’t worth fighting them, though he’d been right. Chazzie hadn’t been drunk, not a bit. It had all been an act. But what had she learned from Morty’s phone?

  Speaking of which...

  Their enemy had just left, and he’d been in the suite before them, so before Steven could relax, he had to check. “Magica Divinatio,” he whispered even as Chazzie took him deep, so deep, in her mouth.

  For a second, Steven couldn’t see through the black smoke leaking from his eyes, and then he was given a glimpse of the future, where he and the twins slept in the master bedroom, safe and sound. As for Denise and Fimi, they didn’t know each other, coming from different Primes. They slept in separate rooms, after showering, removing their makeup, and relaxing into their new lives. But yes, in their beds, before they went to sleep, both of them masturbated. He had to smile, thinking Skylar would love to use magic to indulge her more voyeuristic tendencies.

  Steven was thrown further into the future.

  They’d be in Oregon the next day. Liang Pope would know. T
here would be a battle and blood would be shed. They would find an Americos Chamber, next to another cave, half-submerged. The ocean crashed into rocks, flinging spray into statues eaten away by time, the sea, and the wind.

  Words from the encrypted pages of the third grimoire came to him:

  Not yet time.

  Wait for the next torch.

  Then you will open one eye.

  He would know the meaning of those words before the sun set on the next day.

  The spell ended, and Steven was snapped back to the moment. Chazzie pulled her head back with a pop. “Mind if I go first, sis?”

  “Be my guest.” Pru’s breath was hot on his neck.

  Chazzie walked to the dining room table, gripped the edge, spread her legs, and raised her ass.

  Steven wasn’t going to fumble with his shoes or his pants, and so he did something Mouse had done, the first night they were together. He shifted into his Partial form, shredded his clothes, then returned to human. He strode across the floor, took hold of Chazzie’s hips, and found her entrance, wet, warm, and as inviting as a fire on a frigid night.

  She gasped when he entered her. And she continued to gasp as he pushed his full staff all the way into her gripping sex. “Oh, oh, oh. I’m ready, Steven, you don’t have to be gentle. Pound me hard. Grab me and pound me.”

  He couldn’t. Pru had cozied up behind him, keeping him locked into the woman in front of him as she whispered into his ear, “Do you think Fimi shaves? Do you think her tits are as dark as the rest of her? Or are they lighter? I was looking, really looking, but the lighting wasn’t so good. I know Denise shaves. I caught a glimpse of her... down there.” She was relentless.

  “Please!” Chazzie begged.

  Pru stepped back. and Steven gave into his lust. He pulled back and thrust forward. As for Pru, she went to a dining room chair, slithered down, and spread herself for him. She began to touch herself, one hand between her legs, the other on her breast. “Do you think Denise is tight, Steven? Do you think Fimi would lick me? Oh, both are so pretty. So young and pretty.”