Yes, torture someone.
These scenes were especially brutal. In one clip, Augustin approached a man tied to a chair, lighting one side of his body on fire and freezing the other, the two elemental forces meeting in the middle.
“So, that’s what we’re up against.” I leaned back in the chair and pulled up yet another Augustin snuff vid.
Finally, I was just about to call it quits for the night when something occurred to me.
Ken wouldn’t just leave me this stuff for no reason; there has to be more information here.
I went back to the folder where the facilities were listed, clicking through all the data until I came to the Sacramento facility. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to check out our next target, I started perusing the documents.
There was a bunch of contractor data here, and after skimming through it, I caught the receipt of an equipment transfer to Nevada.
But where in Nevada? I thought as I skimmed through another PDF.
It took me five minutes of skimming – some of the PDFs were pretty long – but I finally stumbled upon a memo typed out by one of the facility managers which had an address on it and a name.
“AEFL embryo storage area?” I murmured, running my hand through my beard.
“You didn’t bring me anything to eat.” Veronique stood in the doorway, a mischievous look on her face.
“Well, we could take a trip,” I said, looking at the embryo storage address again.
“A trip where?”
“Nevada.”
“Why?”
I tapped my finger on the computer screen. “I found something, and maybe there will be food along the way. First, though, I need to back all of this stuff up in the cloud. If something happens to my phone, etcetera, I want the information to be available. I’ll only share it with one other person, though.”
“Who’s that?”
“Luke.”
Chapter Twenty-Two: Not Vegas
“Well, it’s not Vegas, but it’s not bad.”
Dorian, Veronique, Grace, and I stood at a gas station about twenty miles away from the embryo storage facility I’d literally discovered thirty minutes ago. The place was dusty, a tumbleweed city if there ever was one, but the gas station itself wasn’t very busy, which was better for us anyway.
We’d just traveled through Dorian’s teleporter’s paradise, a vortex to make all other vortexes tremble, and my knees were a bit shaky. Real shaky, actually, but at least I didn’t feel the urge to vomit.
Our bellies full, well, aside from Veronique’s, the plan was just to gather a little bit of intel.
That was it.
No infiltration on the embryo storage facility tonight; we’d do that tomorrow after more training. With Grace around, we hoped to perform a little soft interrogation.
“Yep, that’s the facility; some government building or something,” the gas station attendant told us. He was a bald, portly fellow with unfortunate acne. A creeper mustache too, but he seemed nice enough, despite the skull tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his work smock.
But hey, I had ink now too, so tatted dudes were cool with me, and hopefully, I with them.
“What else can you tell us about it?” I asked. “Any shift changes?”
The attendant snorted, wiped whatever he’d snorted up on his sleeve, and continued. “Yeah, there’s a shift change about …” He glanced down at his watch. “Hell, it’s in about thirty or forty minutes, I guess. Some of those guys come by here to get gas and pick up beer on their way out.”
“Anything else you can tell us about them?” I asked.
“Well, they ain’t military men, but some of them look like military men. Private security, something like that. I try to stay out of it. I'm just here to give ‘em gas and sell ‘em beer.”
“You mind if we hang out for a minute and wait for some of them to come around?” I asked, only as a courtesy. It was exactly what we were going to do regardless if he wanted us to or not.
“Sure, take a load off. We got a booth over there. Feel free to have whatever you'd like.”
“Thanks, I’ll be taking over from here,” I told him and pointed to Veronique. “I want you to go meet her at the back, in the beer cooler.”
“Will do.” He gave me his smock and headed for the cooler. Veronique followed; I heard the thunk of his body hitting the ground a few moments later.
“All right, as planned,” I said to Grace and Dorian. “Also, we’ll need to do something about his body. Shit. We probably shouldn’t have left him alone with Veronique in the cooler. Grace, a little help?”
“I’m on it,” she said and turned to the walk-in cooler.
As she made her way there, she turned into a spitting image of the man. It was still odd to see her change into something that was completely opposite of her base form, like the fifty-something-year-old bald man with the bad skin, skull tattoos, and Chester the Molester mustache.
But before Grace could reach the cooler and do a little Super micromanagement, Veronique stepped out, dragging the man behind her using the metal on his belt. She placed him in the bathroom and put the ‘Wet Floor’ sign in front of the door.
Problem solved, Grace walked around to the back of the counter, where she joined me.
“You look way more convincing than me,” I told her. I touched the smock the man had given me, cringing at the fact that there were some pretty weird stains on its front. “Maybe I shouldn’t be playing dress-up.”
“Probably not,” Dorian said.
“Cool, I’ll just chill with you two in one of the booths.”
And that was how I ended up sitting in a booth at a gas station in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada, reading a magazine to kill time. Within twenty minutes I was caught up on Fall 2030 tech products, politics, which celebrities were fucking which celebrities, and the best cars to come in 2031.
Dorian, who sat across from me in the booth, also read a magazine; Glamour, or maybe it was Vogue. She had a couple. Maybe she read both of them. She kept sniffing the perfume inserts.
Some of them smelled pretty good.
For her part, Veronique simply stood near the door, arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t exactly incognito, so at some point close to the time that people were getting off, I called her over to the booth and told her to join us, which she did, admiring whatever new perfume smell Dorian had at the time.
It wasn’t ten minutes later when the first man came into the gas station.
He doesn’t work at the facility, Grace thought to me.
That’s fine; someone who works there will eventually come in.
Are you enjoying your magazines?
Sure, I’m caught up and ready for whatever pop culture quiz NPR could throw at me.
The guy bought some lottery tickets, scratched them at the counter, and moved on.
A woman came in, her hair done up and her body spritzed with a strong floral scent.
Nope, Grace thought to me.
I didn’t think she did. What does she do though? I thought back to her.
She works in one of the casinos, and she just got off work. She’s tired.
The woman bought a pack of cigarettes, a Bull Bean six-hour energy blitz shot, a stick of gum, which Grace told her was free today only. After a muffled burp, the woman dragged herself back to her car.
The next guy to come in definitely fit the bill. He was lean, had a buzz cut, and was pretty chiseled. He wore a black outfit, the top button undone, and his shirt untucked.
That’s our guy, Grace thought to me.
“Yep,” I said, grinning at the man.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Possessed
“How did it go?” Stella asked when we returned to the mansion outside Colorado Springs.
The Super Teens were up in their rooms, hopefully asleep. Stella was sitting on the couch when we materialized into existence, arms crossed over her chest as she watched an action flick starring Natalie Johansson.
Grace wi
nked at me, her form suddenly that of Natalie Johansson.
Stella laughed. “That’s just too entertaining.”
Veronique nodded, one of the first times I’d seen her be cordial with Stella. “It can be very, very entertaining.”
“I can attest to just how entertaining that can be,” I said sheepishly.
“So?” Stella asked me as I came around and sat on the couch next to her.
“We found out what we needed to know: how the facility was set up and what its security apparatus looks like.”
“And?”
“I’m going up to bed,” Dorian announced with a loud yawn.
“I’ll join you,” Grace called after.
Veronique sat down next to me, and I continued telling Stella what we had uncovered.
When I finished, Stella nodded and said, “It doesn’t sound like it’ll be too hard to destroy.”
“I don’t know,” I told her. “Strange things happen whenever we go after these facilities. This one is smaller, and I don’t think it’s as guarded as the others. But we should still be careful.”
“And the girls will stay here?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think it’s best if they stay here. Not that their powers aren’t useful, but … I don’t know, what do you two think? Should they be going into battle with us?”
Veronique thought for a moment. “I was training when I was their age, including real-world extractions. You?”
Stella nodded. “Training, yes, but I never did real-world extractions. We did do tests in the desert and what not.”
“Desert tests?” I asked.
I really wanted to interview Stella, but she seemed a little distrustful of me. She wasn’t completely confident in what we were trying to do, that much was obvious, but she was trying, and I think for the time being she was just giving us the benefit of the doubt.
I hoped to change that.
“There’s a lot of desert in New Mexico, and that’s where most of my outdoor training took place. They had other supers fight against us, probably similar to what you went through, Veronique.”
The metal-hungry vampire nodded. “That’s how Dorian and I met.”
“But I don’t have as much real scenario experience.”
“Then you should get some tomorrow night,” I told her, “because that’s when we’re going to do this.”
I stood, feeling a bit tired. To my surprise, Veronique grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down to the couch.
“What?” I asked her as Stella returned her focus to the television.
She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Unfinished business.”
Don’t have to tell me twice.
But rather than drag my ragged ass upstairs, she watched another hour of programming with Stella. To be honest, I wanted to go work a little, but I was also exhausted, and ennui had a way of knifing any work ethic I could muster in the back.
It had been a long day though, and I’d gotten a lot done already. No sense in beating myself up.
So I stayed in my spot between Veronique and Stella, zoning out as we watched yet another house-flipping show. Eventually, I got the strength to tell Veronique I wanted to take a shower, and as I went upstairs, she joined me.
When we got to the top of the stairs, she looped her hand in mine and led me to the room she’d designated as hers. The door closed behind us, and Veronique’s clothing dropped. There was nothing really romantic about it; Veronique and sensuality would likely never go hand-in-hand. Off came her top, and she stepped out of her panties.
All before I could even get my shirt off.
“Shower first,” I told her, figuring I probably smelled like a fish market down south.
Her hand came out again and I hesitated before taking it.
“I won’t drain you, I promise.”
“Cool.”
As she helped me undress, I felt a tingling sensation at the back of my skull. It suddenly felt as if I was watching what was happening, but at the same time, taking part in it.
I knew exactly who the culprit was.
Ready for this? Grace thought to me.
Are you serious?
Veronique turned the shower on, looked at me over her shoulder, and gave me a sexy-ish grin. Damn, even if she was trying to be sexy, I still couldn’t help but see the predator in her.
When I didn’t immediately come forward, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shower.
Just sit back and enjoy, Grace thought to me.
Don’t make my eyes turn white; she’ll know.
Don’t let her look at you.
How?
Figure it out.
This is wrong on so many levels.
That’s why it’s so hot!
As per Grace's instructions, I turned Veronique around and pressed her hands against the shower wall. It was like Grace and I were working in tandem; some of the actions mine, some of them hers.
For example, I was now bent before Veronique, the water spraying against my back, licking her in all the right places. Veronique moaned, the sound slightly muffled by the shower.
That was me.
At least I’m pretty sure it was me.
A minute later I was standing up and jumping into action, wasting no time in slipping inside Veronique’s tight snatch.
That was Grace.
Paying little or no attention to the logistics of having sex in the shower, I was pumping as hard as I could without slipping, cracking my ass, and having to go to the hospital with a concussion.
To combat Grace’s white eyes, I simply closed mine.
We continued like this for a while, my heart thrumming in my chest as I went at Veronique with everything I had.
Once we separated, Veronique launched at me, kissing me about as passionately as someone could and lifting one leg around me as I slipped back inside. My back hit the shower wall, and I figured it was time to get out of the tub.
Or Grace did?
Still sopping wet, we moved to the bathroom floor, and I lifted her legs over my shoulders, settling in, just as I’d seen someone do in a porn flick. From there, I bent them all the way back, placed one hand behind her shoulders and used the other to get her ass in place so that she was almost in a plow pose position.
Wait a minute … Dammit, Grace, stop accessing my thoughts!
Don’t worry, we won’t get to some of that Japanese stuff you watched.
“Shit,” I whispered, embarrassment washing over me as I kept my eyes squeezed shut.
“What is it?” Veronique asked.
“Nothing, never mind.”
She clawed at my head and pulled me in deeper. It hurt, and I responded by going even harder, refusing to open my eyes and blow Grace’s cover.
This is so fun! Grace thought to me as I got into another position, this time doggy style.
We were animals, we were filthy animals, and I was a possessed filthy animal. Which makes me even filthier than a normal animal. I glanced down at Veronique’s body, seeing her puckered asshole, the curvature of her spine, the way her hair bobbed up and down as Grace (or I?) continued fucking her.
What else can we do? Grace thought to me.
This is too crazy.
This is crazy fun, and you like it. Slap her ass. Slap her ass!
She could have just made me do it, but I think she wanted me to be the one who initiated that.
So I did it.
And Veronique stopped, just long enough for me to open my eyes to catch her looking at me.
Shit, I thought as she shot me either a devilish look or one of utter fury.
It turned out to be the former because she started pushing back even harder, grinding to the point that it was starting to get painful.
What now? I thought, happy that Grace had presciently released control long enough for my eyes to go back to their normal color.
Bedroom. Bedroom!
I grabbed Veronique by the arm – roughly, in a way I would never grab her normally – a
nd took her to the bedroom.
She responded by pushing me onto the bed and climbing on top of me, her hands around my throat as she positioned herself. Her nipples were erect, her hips moving up and down, and I couldn’t help but keep my eyes open to watch that.
But now, her eyes were closed, and she was starting to spasm.
Oh … I can’t wait for this!
I ignored Grace’s voice in my head this time as I just focused on getting the job done. Focus, focus!
Focus, Writer Gideon!
Veronique was quickly getting out of control, and it wasn’t long before I saw her raise her hands behind her head, a slight red glow to her palms.
She dropped her hands to my chest and bent forward, exhaling audibly as she came, simultaneously sapping my power.
I squirmed as Veronique both orgasmed and consumed my lifeforce.
I tried to push her off me, but I couldn’t; she was suddenly heavy, and I was losing steam fast.
“Veronique, stop, stop!” I cried.
“What are you two … Oh my God!”
I blinked my eyes open to see Michelle standing in the room. She was in a large sleep shirt, her black hair with its pink streak gathered around her shoulders, a look of shock on her face.
“Out of here, now!” Veronique roared. And Michelle was gone.
“Damn,” I mumbled, my vision suddenly blurred.
“Tell Grace to wipe her mind,” Veronique said, grabbing my chin with her hand. “Now. Tell her now. I know she can hear you.”
My heart leapt into my throat, and I looked at her curiously.
“What are you waiting for? Tell her?”
She doesn’t know, Grace thought to me.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, yeah, I’ll tell Grace.”
“But you should finish first.”
Veronique swiveled around on my member so that she was now riding reverse cowgirl, looking over her shoulder at me, blond hair framing one side of her face as she moved up and down. “Do it, Gideon,” she whispered harshly. “Faster, fucking finish and make sure you tell Grace.”
I’ve already taken care of it, Grace thought to me. Now do what Veronique says – finish. I want to know what it feels like!
This is ridiculous!
Cherry Blossom Girls Box Set Page 59
