“Who knows?” Becca asked with a crooked grin as she raised her blades and readied herself for a fourth pass. “Maybe it’s my organic, protein rich diet.”
Iyllia cast a frown at Logan and her eyes shifted to the dark elf, who was watching with something close to satisfaction. Logan knew the woman had grown frustrated with how quickly and easily things came to his friend.
“Again,” the high elf said, and Becca launched herself forward before her mouth clicked shut, their blades clashing with a terrific sound.
Logan watched the souls observing the contest and noticed the faintest hint of interest and excitement in several eyes. Most glowered with an angry sullenness that made him think the hairs on the back of his neck and arms should be standing on end, but a few watched the women clash with the interest of spectators watching a sporting event.
“They’re being tortured here,” Dystra said from her perch in the shadows above Logan, causing him to glance up. “I don’t know the purpose of this place, except to keep Heaven and Hell exclusive to the real assholes, but whatever this place was meant to be… It’s broken now.”
“You’re right,” Logan said, noticing a little demon-child who’d slipped to the front of the crowd and watched the women.
“You see them too? The Fallen One’s minions?”
Logan hadn’t noticed them at first, but once the demon girl mentioned it, he noticed several dark figures spread throughout the crowd. Wherever they stood, they were at the center point of the glares and dark looks the living received. He noticed one of the shadowy figures slip a few vials of green gas out of its pocket and into the hands of a couple souls. Logan didn’t see what was traded in exchange, but he knew an illicit drug deal when he saw one.
“Can you slip amongst them unnoticed?” Logan asked softly and the demon’s dark eyes flicked down to him and he thought her fang filled mouth turned up into a smirk of self-satisfaction and she nodded. “See if you can find out what they’re trading for that gas.”
Nodding once, the demon slipped from her perch and entered the crowds, her dark form disappearing seconds later. Becca and Syn were working through a series of lunges and parry’s while Iyllia frowned at the dark elf’s instruction. He ignored the women and instead focused on the crowd. The moment the demon entered it, the nearest dark figure turned its head and seemed to track the demon’s movements.
Logan’s worry rose when the dark figure began moving, but it hadn’t gone more than a few feet when Dystra reappeared, slinking from the crowd and slipping into Logan’s shadow.
“The Fallen One’s Psion nearly had me,” the girl gave a little shiver of fear and went on. “I did see what they’re passing the Psion’s but it’s just sand.” She gave a little shrug and held out one clawed hand and frowned down at the tiny pile of white sand sitting there. “Snatched this from the fucker’s pocket. It’s loaded down with the stuff.”
“What is it?” Logan asked, reaching out a finger and pushing at the sand, but the demon shrugged again and put the sand into a pocket.
“Oooh, they’re about to go…” a cruel light entered the demon’s dark eyes as she watched Syn and Iyllia circling one another, their weapons held at the ready. “Kill each other! Hurry up!”
Syn shot the demon a frown of disapproval, and Iyllia shook her head.
“They promised no shedding blood, right?” Becca said, and both elves nodded, though with a hint of reluctance.
Logan could see how easily things might devolve between the sworn enemies, but he held his tongue. The elves circled one another for a few seconds, then Syn’s spear flickered out faster than Logan’s blue eye could detect.
Iyllia’s blades swept around herself in a hypnotic pattern as she deflected Syn’s strikes. Each time blade connected with spear, there was a cascade of blue sparks and as the women picked up speed, they sparked higher and farther each time, until the women danced in a halo of blue light.
Less than a minute after they began, the women came to a sudden stop and Logan saw the tip of Iyllia’s blade resting on the inside of Syn’s thigh, while the dark elf’s spear tip nestled between the high elf’s heaving breasts. Both elves had sweat on their brows and drew in deep lungful’s of stale, putrid air as they eyed one another.
“You have improved since last time I saw you fight,” Iyllia said, a small smile tugging the corners of her lips.
“You too,” Syn said begrudgingly, and Iyllia tilted her head forward in a nod of gratitude.
“Show me that thing you did with your feet again,” Becca said to Syn. “Right before you blocked her kick to your knee. You did this little,” the teen danced a quick jig, her feet shuffling around one another. “I didn’t see, but it was cool.”
“What about yourself, Logan?” Iyllia called over to where Logan lounged against the wall. “Would you care to spar?”
Sighing, Logan pushed back his exhaustion and pulled himself to his feet. He tried to ignore the demon’s smirk as he joined the three women in their training, but he could already feel the bruises he was about to receive. A part of him wanted to draw forth the magic that lurked within him, so he could hold his own against the white knight, but something inside warned that would be the worst thing he could do. With the eyes of thousands, perhaps millions of souls looking on, silent and watchful, Logan stepped into a guard stance.
The high elf’s instruction was more relaxed and comfortable than Syn, and he found the change in the woman’s attitude fascinating. Stiff and formal most of the time, during training she let down her guard and addressed Logan and Becca by their first names. While Becca sparred with Syn, the dark elf commander no longer having such an easy time with the teen, Logan moved through sword forms with Iyllia.
“You could be an excellent swordsman, if you devoted yourself to it.” The high elf said with an approving nod after watching him move through the forms. “Quick wrists and good balance are half the work, and you were born with both. Still in your head though.”
Logan tried to watch the woman’s slender wrists, as Syn had taught him, but she moved so fluidly and quickly that he couldn’t track them, and she thumped him in the ribs with an almost negligent strike. Gasping and clutching the bruise, Logan reset himself.
“Keep your elbows in… Don’t over commit…” the high elf parried his attack, and his sword sent an exultant pulse of pleasure into his mind, happy to be of use, even when Logan felt useless against Iyllia. “Better.”
Logan had sweat pouring down his nose by the time they finished their training, and a deep ache in his muscles. Becca prodded Iyllia with questions as they ate a quick meal and got ready to rest. The souls still hovered outside, filling the alleyways and boulevards all around the party, but they no longer felt like a looming threat in Logan’s mind. It was those dark Psion’s that troubled him.
Wary of his dreams, it took a couple hours for the young man to fall asleep. As he listened to Syn’s gentle snores as she snuggled against his side, his thoughts drifted to his friend. Logan had two gorgeous women pressed against him, and another slumbering nearby, and still he felt alone and depressed in this place. He could only imagine how Simon was feeling and prayed silently to whoever might listen for his friend.
When sleep finally stole him under, his dreams were blessedly dark and when roused a few hours later by the dark elf’s gentle ministrations, he even felt a little rested. It was useless to stop the dark elf from sucking down her morning dram of his seed. Not that he’d ever want to.
The dark elf gave a happy little purr when he ran his fingers through her pale hair. Lavender eyes glowed up at him and he took in the delicate features of her face and the long tips of her ears. The elf shivered, and he watched her hips roll as he rubbed a thumb down one ear, then it was his turn to shiver as Syn took him down the back of her throat.
Tongue and tonsils working, the elf swallowed down her lord’s seed, while a pair of golden eyes watched from beneath a set of blankets. The high elf kept perfectly still as the man ro
se and stretched, heading outside to relieve himself, and only when he was gone from sight did. She let out a slow breath. Her eyes found the dark elf commander as the woman writhed on her back like a succubus in a sea of virgins.
Shocked to see the powerful commander debase herself so, the elf’s hand found her sex once more as she watched Becca stretch like a cat and roll into Syn.
“You know you’re going to have to share tomorrow, right?”
Iyllia heard the teen’s husky whisper and the dark elf’s gasp, followed by soft wet sounds and Syn’s growing whimpers.
Queen, give me strength, Iyllia thought to herself. Help me remain righteous and pure… Oh goddess, I can’t stand it!
The high elf didn’t notice her own sharp cry of joy, as the pleasure washed through her body, but Becca cast a smirk over at the shuddering blankets before going back to teasing the dark elf.
Chapter 22
Logan stepped outside the building to relieve himself and noticed a small figure sitting in the alleyway with a glass vial in its hands. The girl gave a start when she noticed him approaching and shied back.
“I won’t harm you, child.” He said, recognizing the young demon from earlier. The girl’s large black eyes were round with fear and she glanced through the alley to the lurking horde of souls as if they might rescue her. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
“All dead fear the living… and you especially, sir.”
“Me?” Logan asked, stopping where he was and squatting down to show he meant no harm to her. “Why would you fear me?”
“You carry Grace… It burns in you bright as the sun once did over Hearth Home.”
Logan wanted to push for more answers but could see the girl was about to bolt any second, so he pointed to the glass tube she held in her hands.
“What’s that?”
The girl’s face crumpled in emotion as she glanced down at the gas filled tube and clutched it to her breast.
“You can’t take it from me! It’s mine!”
“Relax,” Logan said, holding his hands up in the universal sign of peace. “I’m not going to touch your stuff. I’m just curious… Is that what happened to them?”
He pointed to a few figures that lay motionless along the edge of the alley, and the demon-child’s expression grew solemn, and she nodded. Logan had known children like this in foster homes growing up, wiser than their appearance because of trauma, and desperate to cling to anything with stability.
“Did they take the gas in the tubes to… check out?” Logan asked.
The child nodded and clutched the tube even more tightly to her chest.
“Why are all of these souls here?” He asked, deciding to take another tack to try and get her to open up. “Shouldn’t they be in heaven or hell?”
The child shook her head, but Logan waited long seconds until she finally spoke up, her voice small and shy.
“They go Below if they’re bad… But you only get to go Above if you have the grace of a God and Mommy and I never had faith.”
The child sniffled and Logan noticed dampness gathering at the bottom of her large black eyes.
Demons can cry?! He thought to himself, reassured as the human-like emotions bubbled out of the child. Wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull her close, he gripped his hands together, not wanting to frighten her off.
“And the gas?”
“Gives you dreams of Above… or from the time before when I got to run in the grasses… Mommy said she wanted to see Poppa again and dance in Hearth Home with him in the before time.”
The child’s eyes cut to one particular shadow, and Logan noticed the form of an older demon woman. She looked similar to the other demons he’d seen, but she lacked the definition and toughness of one of the warrior-caste. The woman lay with her eyes open, staring up at the blank gray sky with an expressionless mask.
“What about the classes? Can’t you serve your time and then move on? Is there no way free of this place besides sucking down a drug?”
“Every soul a God takes, saps their strength… They only take souls that fed them prayers while alive… Those in the Outer Rings still believe the Psion’s lies, but Mommy said the Gods have abandoned us.”
“I’ve come to learn that Gods can be as fallible and foolish as mortals,” Logan said with a little laugh, but the girl looked shocked at his blasphemous words.
A sound alerted him to someone stepping out of the building and when he glanced back, the demon-child was slinking back into the deeper shadows.
“The elves are waking and that human girl’s already doing her stupid dance,” Dystra said, casting a frown after the demon child then shifting it to Logan. “What did you say to her?”
“Do your people have a god they worship?”
Dystra was so taken aback by the question, it took a second for her anger to register.
“Our faith is ours, idiot! You’re the last person I’d admit anything to.”
“There seem to be a larger amount of demons here than any of the other Fae races,” Logan said. By now he’d grown used to Dystra’s taunts and insults. In a way she was like Meryl, in that she hid her emotions behind a tough exterior.
“Well, there are more humans than all the rest, even those alien things. What’s that say about your race?”
“You have a point there,” Logan said.
The party was packed up and following the talisman’s trail ten minutes later with the hordes trailing them once more. They hiked deeper for another indeterminable amount of time, then made camp. Becca worked with Iyllia this evening, the White Knight took the teen through the Sword Dance again and again, until Becca moved with an earthly grace.
“Ascension has given you gifts, but most of this is either natural talent or gained from years of doing athletics. You’ll need to synthesize it into your own style, then you’ll be able to react without thought in every situation.” Iyllia said as they squared off to spar.
“Is that how White Knights are trained?” Becca asked.
“We begin as soon as the child is able to stand and hold a blade,” Iyllia nodded. “Sleeping with it in our beds and wedding it to our souls.”
“So, you’ve never had a lover?” Becca asked, a hint of flirtation in her smirk.
“Without those distractions, I’ve been able to devote my life to this pursuit,” Iyllia said, raising a blade before her face. “Emotions are a weakness, as is the desire for pleasure.”
“I find the opposite to be the case,” Becca said, twirling her blade and setting herself as the high elf moved into a guard. “How can you fight for something if you’ve never known how precious each of us is? And I’ve felt and learned things dancing between the sheets with Logan and Syn, that make me a better woman for it.”
“Weakness,” Iyllia scoffed as she moved forward.
The high elf once again proved her dominance over Logan’s Knight, but each bout lasted longer and longer, and he could see Iyllia’s growing shock at how quickly Becca learned. When their last bout on the third night closed with a draw, both women’s swords resting against a vital point on the others body, the elf looked more troubled than Logan had ever seen her.
That night the teen stripped naked and climbed atop Logan without a hint of embarrassment, riding him beside their small fire as the high elf fled outside, her expression frozen between shock and something that looked almost painful.
The days passed interminably as the party trekked deeper and deeper into Purgatory. Every few hours they seemed to travel back in time a few hundred years, the souls around them growing more ancient every day. Logan and the women passed through the area of known history in two days, but on and on the boulevards went.
Every evening when they rested, they’d spend an hour training with blades. Iyllia kept herself aloof from the others except when they trained, then the high elf would relax back into herself. The easy comradery would disappear the moment Becca, or Syn, pulled their sire into his blankets.
&nbs
p; Syn still woke Logan every morning, often joined by the brunette teen. Many was a morning when Logan noticed Iyllia’s golden eyes peeking out from under her blankets as the women’s moans and sighs of pleasure filled the building, they rested in.
Dystra grew more and more agitated the deeper they went, with no sign of Simon. The little demon fretted the fetish wasn’t working, or that Simon wasn’t here. It wasn’t to Logan she directed her anger and fury, much to his surprise, but at the high elf.
“If my Simon is dead because of an over-inflated idiot like you… The Demons will tear down your shining palace and burn your pretty trees!”
“Ha! You’ve tried for centuries and always fail,” Iyllia scoffed. “Your legions may be endless, but your magic is weak and our walls strong.”
“Ladies,” Logan warned, knowing if they continued their argument would soon grow to shout insults, from the demon at least.
“I’m not your pet like the dark elf,” Dystra sneered. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
The demon didn’t call him a fool, so he considered it a win. The high elf kept her words to herself but cast another one of those considering looks at Logan as they marched on. He’d grown used to such looks from the golden-haired elf. The woman no longer expected him to turn into a monster and try to ravish her in the night, but she still held suspicions about him.
Chapter 23
On their seventh day of marching, Logan stepped out of an alleyway to find something different from the endless sea of buildings and boulevards. The buildings ended, the tall structures marched off to left and right, curving towards the center.
Logan and the women saw the boulevards had actually been rings, so big their curve was impossible to notice. The center of the giant ring was an open field with a glittering tower rising from the middle of it. The tower held their gaze as they followed it’s soaring, glittering heights up into the gray skies. The slender building roof was lost in the sky above, if it even had one.
Coven Master 4: (A Harem Fantasy) Page 11
