Fantasmic Tales: Poppy Rider And The Glass Shards

by Adrianna Dane

  "Behind you, Will. Hurry."

  Just as she spoke, the demon's arm shot out and Will screamed as the goblin's claws dug into his back, gripped and yanked Will backward.

  Will dragged free, spun around, and jabbed forward with all his might, his body going full-tilt into driving the blow home. Long lethal claws punctured his chest and Will dropped to his knees, the demons claws the only thing holding him upright. The dagger clattered to the stone floor. The demon yanked back, shredding Will's chest. Will screamed and then collapsed face first onto the floor, blood pouring from the wounds in his back, more blood seeping from beneath him. Gray growled and surged forward. Poppy screamed with rage and, drawing from a well deep inside her, she shoved Gray aside and vaulted forward, snatching up the dagger.

  One too many monsters from her past roared to life. By God, she was not going to allow this one to defeat them. And this was one she was going to face herself. She gripped the dagger.

  "Will! Damn you, Delal. You're not taking one of my men!"

  "Poppy, no!" Gray yelled.

  "Take care of Will." Without a thought for her own safety, she turned on the demon. Delal spun to face her, red claws, dripping with Will's blood curled as he advanced on her. Something dark and vengeful reared inside her. She feinted; Delal lunged. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gray drag Will out of harm's way. She saw the smeared trail of blood in their wake.

  She swung around out of Delal's grasp. A glance to Will and Gray. Her lovers, men who would die for her. But not this time.

  A power surged strong inside her now, an energy that made her feel invincible. She danced around the demon in pirouettes, taunting him, toying with him like a cat with a mouse, some instinct warning her of his every move. A jab here, a jab there. Pin pricks that drew little blood, but taunted the demon to lose control. The demon screamed in rage. One last spin and she was positioned where she needed to be. Enough playing. She drove her arm forward with all the force she could muster putting her full weight behind the effort. Her aim was true and the demon's scream reverberated like fierce thunder warning of a violent storm rumbled through the corridors. Delal dropped. Taking a deep breath, Poppy pushed forward to do what she didn't think she could ever do, and she plunged the knife into Delal's chest, carved the demon's chest open, and removed his evil beating heart. Blood dripped from her fingers as she tossed it into the burlap bag and tied the opening closed. Then she whirled away and ran to Will.

  Will tried to lift his head, his face was tinged with gray, a bit bluish around his lips. Poppy dropped down and pulled him into her arms.

  "Will," she said as she hunched over him and pressed a kiss to his cool lips. The ravages to his body were terrible.

  She looked at Gray with tears in her eyes. "Gray. Help me. He can't die. I can't lose him--I won't lose him."

  Gray dropped to the floor next to them. Will looked at Poppy. "Get the heart out of here. Burn it. That's the only way to destroy its power. Save Ashon."

  "Oh no you don't. You're coming with us." Will's flesh seemed to be disintegrating before her eyes. "Oh, God, what do we do?" She looked pleadingly at Gray.

  Gray clutched the medallion in his hand, staring down at it. It was opened and there was some sort of reddish powder inside. "What is that?"

  He drew himself up and looked at her. Poppy didn't understand the look in his eyes. Then taking a deep breath, he removed a hunting knife from his belt. He sliced the blade across his left arm, drawing blood that he allowed to drip into the small indentation of the medallion.

  "It's my turn to use the gift that Moira gave me. She said I would know when and if it should be used." He stirred the contents with the tip of the knife until it liquefied. He forced Will to drink every bit.

  "Swallow it, big boy. All of it. I hope you'll forgive me when this is all over." And then he leaned forward and kissed Will. A long kiss that sealed them together. He reached for Poppy's hand and placed it over Will's heart. And they stayed like that for long, endless minutes, the only sound Will's ragged breaths. The only smell, Will's spilled blood.

  Finally, Gray lifted away.

  Will slowly sat up. Poppy looked at his chest and then his back. She was shocked to find there was no evidence of the long savage gouges. "It's gone," she said with wonder. She looked at Gray. "You healed him."

  He breathed an audible sigh of relief. "It worked. Moira's magic. Now let's get out of here. Moira said I have exactly eight hours from the time I used this stuff before I turn back into a wolf. So let's get going."

  And then the ground beneath them started to rumble. Fissures in the floor erupted. "Let's free Narcissa and get the hell out of here," Poppy said. Will grabbed the sack as he shot to his feet. He staggered slightly, then righted himself.

  The light orb suddenly reappeared and they followed it back through the winding tunnels. It took several minutes to locate Narcissa and free her from the spikes. She couldn't walk, and Gray carried her as they hurried along the tunnel, zigzagging as they attempted to evade bits of rock and falling debris showering down all around them. It was barely a breath after they jumped from the mirror into the queen's bedroom that the mirror collapsed in upon itself and disappeared.

  "Poppy, check one of the closets," Gray said. "See if you can find something for Narcissa to wear."

  Poppy hurried over to a set of mirrored doors and flung them wide. She grabbed a long black robe. Then she saw a flash of white. She grabbed in and quickly tore it into strips. Then she turned and hurried back to Narcissa.

  "Put her in the chair, Gray. I need to bind her wounds."

  Gray set her down and Poppy carefully wound the fabric strips around the angry piercings in Narcissa's hands and feet and then helped her into the robe.

  "It's not perfect but hopefully it will help until we can find you proper care."

  Narcissa gave her a weak smile. "Thank you, Poppy. You are kind."

  "We need to find a fire--a real one," Will said.

  Gray lifted Narcissa into his arms.

  "We should try the kitchen," Narcissa said tiredly, her arms curled around Gray's neck as she leaned against his strong shoulder.

  They found the hidden door and stepped back into the inner tunnels. Within steps, Simon appeared. "Heard a bit of rumbling, thought maybe you could use some help."

  "We need to get to the kitchen," Will said as he held up the squirming bag.

  "Damn," Simon said and then thumped Will on the back. "Good job."

  "Not me," Will said and then pointed to Poppy. "It was her."

  Simon grinned. "Well done. Moira was on the money about you. All right then, Simon says follow me." Then he turned and they hurried along the passage.

  Damn all these small dark places, Poppy thought. It had to be one of the reasons she hated the drafty old castles. Her cabin was nice and simple and neat and had really big windows that let in lots of light.

  Simon stopped at another door, then turned to look at the others. "This leads to the kitchen. It's a straight shot to the stone cook fire. That should get the job done I think."

  "You all stay here," Will said. "No need to put all of us in danger. And it will draw less notice if I do this alone."

  Simon pressed a lever and the panel slid open. Will stepped out and leisurely made his way to the fireplace. Most of the women in the kitchen were on the other side of the big room, working at a table, rolling out dough and chopping up vegetables. Arriving at the huge fireplace that took up one full wall, Will hesitated just for an instant before tossing the bag into the flames. Quickly he stepped away a safe distance, but stayed to watch--to bear witness that it burned completely.

  The stench was terrible but quickly dissipated as the fire flared bright red and then the bag and its contents were consumed. Will turned and headed back to the sliding panel and stepped inside.

  "It's finished."

  "They're gone," Poppy said, an edge of wonder to her tone of voice as she looked at Narcissa. Then she began to unwrap the bandages
she just put on moments ago.

  "Delal is really dead," Narcissa said as she raised one arm and looked at her hand wonderingly.

  "What is it?" Will asked.

  Poppy turned to look at him a huge smile spread across her face. "All those terrible scars, and the wounds from the spikes. They've all healed. Her flesh is totally unmarred."

  "Now, we just need to free Ashon and then get us all out of here," Simon said. "Damn, I'll be glad to be rid of this place. This is not a vacation retreat I'll be recommending to my friends."

  "So what next?" Poppy asked.

  "Now I get you some appropriate clothing and masks so you can get into the Queen's Ball. That's where Ashon will be. And we're going to have to be quick." He pulled out a pocket watch and looked at the time. "It's already ten o'clock and we've got to get to him before the clock strikes midnight and he's taken to the fighting rink."

  "Lead on, Simon," said Gray.

  They all turned to follow Simon down the narrow corridor. The worst is over, thought Poppy. Getting to Ashon should be a cinch compared to dealing with Delal.

  Or so she hoped, because she was really getting tired of this place.

  Chapter 11

  * * *

  "No clothing beneath," Simon instructed. "It will add too much bulk."

  He provided them dominos and matching silk slippers to wear. Poppy felt extremely naked beneath the hooded royal-blue satin cloak, even though it certainly covered her head to foot. The simple white demi-masks helped to disguise their identities.

  When they were ready, Simon guided them out of the passageway and down the hallway toward the great hall where the ball would be held. Poppy could hear music coming from inside. They walked through the assemblage as though they belonged, passing others much more ornately accessorized than they, with bright feathers, beads in a variety of colors, embroidered cloaks all seeming to try to outdo each other.

  It was only as the door in front of them was held open by a footman and they passed into a smaller dimly lit receiving room that Poppy realized this wasn't any ordinary costume ball.

  Standing in front of a cloakroom was a maid. Poppy realized she was expected to hand over her cloak, leaving her bare except for her mask and blue satin slippers. Poppy turned to Simon.

  "You didn't warn us about this."

  "There wasn't time to argue."

  "You really expect me to go in there naked?"

  "You won't be any different than anyone else. And no one will know who you are."

  "Jeez, Simon."

  Simon stepped around her and nonchalantly removed his cloak and handed it to the girl. Well, one thing about Simon, he had a hell of a body. Tight, toned muscle stretched over golden flesh--a body that moved as effortlessly as a tiger's. It had to be the furred texture of his flesh that made her realize he must be a shape-shifter. Or maybe it was the tattoo of a tiger on his tight butt cheek. And then the illusion was gone and she realized the clarity drops were losing their potency.

  "We need to get to Ashon and get out of here," Will said. "The quicker we get in there, the sooner we get out. No time to be shy now."

  Will was right, of course. Taking a deep breath, Poppy unbuttoned the cloak and handed it over to the maid. Her whole body felt warm with embarrassment at the thought of being naked in front of all these strange people. Damn.

  "The things I do for my grandmother," she muttered under her breath, as she stepped inside the much larger salon, which was filled with naked people.

  Lit by glittering chandeliers, icicles dripping from the ceiling--a ceiling that looked alive with undulating bodies reflected in the mirrored facade.

  Blue and gold velvet sofas. Oversized pillows. Water pipes emitting swirls of blue smoke into the atmosphere of the room. Pungent and almost sickening in its sweet scent.

  "Be on the watch for Ashon," Poppy said.

  Just then one of the naked masked men grabbed her and pulled her close, his hard cock pressed again her flesh. He spun her onto the dance floor and away from the others.

  "What a beauty you are," he said in a dusky, elegant tone. "And that hair, such a stunning red." Her eyes popped wide as one of his hands pressed to her mound. "And natural, too. I wonder if you're as hot a beauty as you look. I think I must find out." A thick middle finger pushed between her lips, burying itself inside her pussy, hooking her to him. She gasped, her eyes widened as he wiggled his finger. Poppy felt a lascivious heat surge through her blinding her to any possible use of commonsense in the situation she found herself in.

  Her breasts were crushed against his smooth muscular chest.

  "Ah, Rolf, what have you here?" a feminine voice said from behind her. And then she felt the fullness of a woman's breasts press against her back. Feminine hands settled at her hips. And that devilish finger rocked back and forth inside her.

  "She's very wet, Desiree. Very hot."

  They spun Poppy 'round and 'round the dance floor until she grew dizzy and light-headed. Already one climax had splintered her and she was currently on the rise to another. And so needy she couldn't stand it. All thoughts of Ashon were almost completely obliterated from her mind.

  She felt weightless, as though she were flying. The next thing she knew, soft velvet cushions slid against her body and she was horizontal on one of the sofas. Desiree knelt next to her. Her red lips close to Poppy's mouth. And then they were fastened to hers and the ball of lust twisted tighter inside her belly.

  Poppy cupped the woman's head, opened her mouth wider, and Desiree's tongue tangled with Poppy's. Poppy moaned, the need to feel more surged through her like a tidal wave.

  She felt Rolf slide his hands over her thighs, widening her legs. She lifted her hips in a silent plea that she could not control. She felt the heat of his prick between her lips, sliding through her juices as Desiree's tongue explored the recesses of Poppy's mouth.

  Then suddenly Poppy was yanked away from them.

  "Sorry, folks, but this hot little number is mine. She's promised me first fuck--if you know what I mean." And then Poppy was spun away from the wanton couple and onto the dance floor once more. Like a rag doll she leaned against Will's hard body as he spun her away.

  "It's the drug--whatever they've got in those pipes. It's affecting all of us."

  Poppy curled her arms around Will's neck. "Fuck me, Will. I need you right now."

  "Damn, Poppy."

  "I can't think straight. I need...something. Please, Will."

  What was wrong with her? She'd never been like this before--so damned needy. She was begging him to fuck her.

  Finally he drew her toward an alcove, pushed her up against the wall and thrust into her. The mating was fast and frantic. The climax powerful and freeing. Within seconds her mind began to clear.

  "Oh, God, what's the matter with me?"

  A maid appeared and offered two cool, wet cloths. Will handed Poppy one of them, and once they were finished tossed them into a silver bin that was sitting on the floor close by. Within moments a footman replaced the full bin with an empty one. More maids passed them by with clean, wet towels neatly stacked on silver serving trays, offering them to guests, a parody of refreshment service at any elegant party.

  Poppy couldn't believe what she was seeing. They might not believe in using condoms but they sure did believe in cleanliness coupled with the fucking. Perhaps they didn't succumb to disease in these magical realms. The scent of sweetish drug mixed with the aroma of scintillating and varied sex was almost more than Poppy could withstand.

  "Where are the others?" she asked now that her mind was lucid.

  Will pointed to an open doorway that led to another room. He grabbed her hand. "This time I'm not letting you go. Come on."

  The next room was smaller, but also held some strange and intriguing decorations that had Poppy's jaw dropping.

  Tall cylindrical glass tubes running from ceiling-to-floor surrounded the interior. Each was filled with blue-tinted bubbling water. And within them was what looked
like--good heavens! They were mermaids and mermen--two to a tube. Hair like bright clouds floating around them as they fucked in various and intriguing ways. What Poppy particularly did not like was that it appeared the merfolk were prisoners. Iron manacles surrounded the end of their tails and a chain was bolted to the bottom of the tanks.

  "I don't like her," she said.

  "Who?" asked Will.

  "The Ice Queen. She seems very heartless and cruel. Are you sure we can't do something about her?"

  "You heard what Moira said. Doing anything to her could have implications in our world that we do not want to instigate."

  She looked at Will, who was staring at the closest tube. "We can't save them all, as much as we would like to."

  Watching the mer couples was like observing a flawless ballet performance as they undulated and rubbed against each other. Poppy looked up and saw one of the queen's men attach a slanted funnel to a slot near the top. He pressed a button and then poured some sort of blue powder into the water.

  "That must be what's coloring the water," Poppy said.

  Within moments the mer couple increased their gyrations, the undulations becoming more frantic as the male pressed into the female. It was not so much a look of pleasure on the faces of the couple as of an undeniable lusty pain.

  "Looks like it does more than just color the water."

  "Probably like the smoke pipes they're using in the other room. We've got to find Ashon and get the hell out of here."

  Will dragged her away from the merfolk. Anyone who could do to people what this queen did, didn't deserve to rule anybody.

  And then she turned away and saw the ice platform at the center of the room. And upon the platform Ashon was mounted and bound. But he wasn't standing--he was seated on a sort of red throne, hands spread and bound above his head, legs spread and bound to the legs of the chair. The manacles looked to be made of thick ice. His cock rose stiffly from between his legs, bound with a shiny blue cock ring. A glassy focused expression on his face as though he wasn't even here in the room with them. Jaw slack.