by Shad N Freud
Cenere quirked an eyebrow and smirked at the goblin. He looked at the Bishop’s name plate. “So, anything you want us to bring back, Bishop Crackle?”
Bishop Crackle rubbed his chin for a moment as he pondered. “Well, if you could bring me back an autographed copy of Mein Kampf, I’d appreciate it.”
Cenere looked at the goblin incredulously. “What…why would you…but…what the actual fuck?”
The goblin shrugged. “I planned on taking it to my family reunion for Passover. I’m the black sheep of the family since I took the Horns, but I still visit my Faither family members for the holidays. I was going to burn the book to celebrate.”
Cenere shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. No promises, though.”
“By the way, what are you guys betting on and is it a private bet?”
Cenere hooked a thumb over at Baal. “We’re betting as to his identity. So far, we’re figuring he was a Pope, someone who put one over on Lucifer, a martyr to the religion, or,” he looked over at Zeke and Krang with a withering glare, “keeping it close to the chest. The buy in is $1.6 million and sure, you can join in if you like.”
The goblin’s eyebrows crept up into his hairline as he whistled. “$1.6 million? Fuck me! I’d be happy to join in on your mission if that kind of scratch is pocket change. Where the Hell have you people been that you can throw that much cash around?”
“Lascaux. Hong Kong. Yucatan.”
“Ho-lee-shit! That was you guys? No wonder. Well, that bet’s too rich for my blood. Anywho, the car is ready for you guys to leave tomorrow. Good luck.” Crackle nodded at the Inquisitors as he walked off to go rejoin his fellow techs and get into a much lower stakes bit of gambling.
Carl strolled back over to the group, a rather satisfied look on his face as he stuffed something into his coat. At the table behind them, the Pope was fuming as he glared at a laughing Graahl and a snickering Baal. He looked at Krang, who was staring pretty hard at the Archduke before he whispered something to Zeke, who laughed, nodded, and fist bumped the mechanical man. Carl shook his head, deciding he didn’t really want to know.
“Right! So, if you need to grab something from the base armory, now would be the time. We’ll be staying in the mansion tonight, and we’ll be getting up early. This could possibly be a one-way trip, so plan accordingly. We’ll be up bright and early at 10am. Have fun, kids,” Carl said with a forced smile as he turned around, made his way to a broom closet and activated the rune. He then disappeared into the opulent mansion and ascended the stairs before closing himself up in his room.
Cenere watched him go hide in his room with trepidation. He then felt a soft hand goose his rear, and watched Camilla make her way to her own room, swaying her hips as she walked. She looked over her shoulder at the handsome young tiefling with a come hither look in her eye.
Inside his skull, Sense had barricaded herself inside her room while All Consuming Lust and Intense Dedication to Duty duked it out. Lust threw a vicious right cross, knocking duty on its ass. “You fucking idiot! We have been waiting for this moment ever since the day we met that girl! Dat ass! Dem hips! And, lest I forget, Dem ti-”
Lust’s breath was knocked out of his lungs as Duty stood, shoving his fist into Lust’s solar plexus as his other fist shined with a blazing light, wreathed in green flames.
“Because pussy is a terrible reason to let your friend suffer alone!” His blazing fist slammed into Lust’s face, uglying the pretty one up a little bit. Lust fell to the ground with a feminine shriek, glaring up at the militant emotion. The emotion’s eye glinted behind his Oakleys. “That’s why, you little degenerate. Now, we are going to do what’s right!”
Lust stood, then turned his back on Duty. “I bet you’re gay.”
“I am not!”
Cenere shook his head, watching the very fine rear end of the gorgeous woman that winked at him disappear into his room. Cenere sighed deeply and went up the stairs, looking at two very important doors, feeling torn. Carl, his mentor who had been beating him half to death on a regular basis for the last few months, was suffering unimaginable anguish. The most important people in his life had been taken from him in the most horrifying way possible. And he was acting as though he was handling things just fine, whenever he didn't reek of booze.
On the other side of the coin, the woman he'd been utterly bessotted with for the last few months had just invited him to join her in his room for sexy naked times. It should be a no brainer. It should be the easiest choice to make. Ever.
And yet, he found himself outside Carl’s door with his hand poised to knock on the old man’s door and fighting the urge to start ripping his clothes off, and bolt for his room to knock hooves (among other things) with the very comely lass in the very next room.
The urge grew infinitely stronger as the door opened slightly, her panties came into view at the end of her extended arm, and she put them on his doorknob. “Unng, why today? Why in Lucy’s name does it have to be today?”
Camilla used the door to shield her body from view as she peeked around the door surreptitiously with a saucy smile as she stared enticingly at Cenere. Her smile turned into a confused pout when she noted that Cenere was standing outside Carl’s door. “Handsome, ah ken fur a fact that ye like pussy. Me 'n' th' marble girls had a bit of girl talk, yeh might say. Thay even gave me some pointers as tae what ye like. So, please, please tell me ye picked up on th' hints I been soft balling tae ye that have been about as subtle as a sledge-hammer. 'N', for Lucy’s sake, explain how come you’re outside Carl’s door right now? Because I’m very confused.”
“Lucy’s silky legs woman, you have no idea how much I want to join you in there. Nothing would make me happier. But, Carl…I can tell he’s not doing so well. I can’t leave him suffering in his misery like this. So, please forgive me, but I need to check up on him.”
The look of dawning comprehension on Camilla’s face replaced the confusion and she smiled sheepishly as she closed the door. The hurried sounds of a woman slipping into a bathrobe couldn’t be heard over Cenere butting the wall with his head hard enough to crack the plaster.
Carl opened the door, reeking of cheap rotgut whisky and cigarettes, as he glared at Cenere. “Oi, the walls are soundproofed for that crap, so stick to yer room, ya damn poof. Now leave me be. Sweet lass like that and you’re pounding on my door? Feck off you…you dumb lil’ bastard.”
Cenere grabbed Carl by the lapels and threw him at the stairs, which turned into a slide. He shook his head as he got to the bottom while Carl staggered to his feet. Cenere looked over at Jeeves as he sidestepped Carl's drunken haymaker. “Jeeves, do us a favor, and set the pain suppressor to maximum levels, safeties on.” Jeeves blinked at Cenere owlishly, as Carl was the one who usually set up the rules for the training room. Cenere then grabbed Carl by the back of his shirt and his waist band, and bodily threw the much larger man into the training room before following him in.
“Pup, you don’t want to do this. Go fuck your girl, drink yourself stupid, and have a good night. Leave me be.” Carl swayed slightly as he got back to his feet and stomped his foot, causing a pedestal to form under his ass as he sat down. He stomped a second time to summon a table. The table had a crystal decanter full of scotch, which he reached for.
Cenere unsheathed his snake-sword and whipped it forward, slapping the back of Carl’s hand as he reached for the decanter.
Carl turned his head to glare balefully at Cenere. “Don’t do that again, Pup, or I’ll beat you bloody after I turn off the safeties. I’m in no mood for your horseshit, and I could really use a drink.”
“You’ve had enough already,” Cenere argued as he rested the flat of his blade on his shoulder. “I also know you need to talk to someone. I had a word with Cardinal Belladonna, and she told me you haven’t opened up yet. The only reason they let you out was because we need you to end this. And, as your second in com-”
“My second in command? Pup, don’t let all that hot air you vent e
very time you open your mouth go to your head. You’re greener than my skin, and I wouldn’t leave you in charge of a beauty pageant. So, let’s not fool ourselves. We’re not friends, peers, or anything approaching equals. I can still wash you out, you little shit. And if you keep me from my drink again, I’ll whip your ass and send you back to the Sinisterem to let Montagne levy your punishment. So, kindly fuck off, and let me be.”
Carl reached for his drink again, and Cenere sighed as he whipped Carl’s hand again. This time, Carl jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers, causing his baton and pistol to pop into his hands. “Fine, you little shit. You earned this. Pain suppression: off. Non-lethal death: on. Regeneration field: offline.” Carl snarled as he tried to level his pistol on Cenere but the three of them wouldn’t hold still. So, to compensate for the little bastard’s cheating ways, he switched the runes to automatic and peeled out a ribbon of lead at Cenere, all three of him.
Cenere watched Carl as he swayed back and forth while he tried to stay vertical and shot his autopistol, spraying the wall above Cenere’s head and three feet to his right. Cenere palmed his forehead and sheathed his sword as he dodged the ricocheting bullets. He put his left hand in his pocket and began swaying gently out of the way of his mentor’s drunken shooting. He dodged minimally when the drunk man swung wildly with his baton, using only his right hand to gently deflect his baton and pistol downward. His mentor seemed to be moving in slow motion, as he was too drunk to fight properly.
He shook his head sadly. This was going to hurt him but needs must. Cenere waited for the next swing near his head and grabbed Carl by the wrist, then threw him over his shoulder and onto the table. The conjured marble shattered under Carl’s weight. Cenere then strode over and kicked the baton out of Carl’s hand and into his right hand, catching it as it spun upwards.
Carl staggered to his feet and sprayed an entire magazine at all six of the cheating tiefling fuckheads, missing all of them as they seemed to swirl around in his vision. Cenere merely rolled his eyes as he slapped the baton down on Carl’s hand, breaking every bone in the older man’s hand and wrist, causing his eyes to shift to red. He roared in drunken fury and leapt at one of the Ceneres, slamming face first into a marble pillar as Cenere sidestepped the three hundred and fourty pounds of angry half-orc trying to break his spirit as well as his body.
“Stop fuckin multiplyin you lousy tiefling! Stand still and take your beatin’, you pansy bitch!” Carl screamed at his trainee, blood sliding into his eyes from the cut on his head.
“Carl, stop this. Talk to me. Let me help you, you stupid bastard!” Cenere snarled as Carl kept swiping at shadows, whirling on his younger colleague. Finally having had enough, he brought the baton down hard on Carl’s left shoulder, shattering his clavicle before whirling and slamming Carl’s baton in a rapid-fire manner on his right shoulder, left and right knees, and his lower spine, crippling his instructor. He dropped the baton and grabbed Carl before he fell on his face.
Carl struggled ineffectually, snarling and biting before he finally gave in to his injuries and slumped, defeated, into Cenere’s arms and began weeping copiously. Carl rarely looked his age but currently looked ancient, like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders as he screamed in anguish, finally releasing his grief upon the world.
Jeeves watched everything from within his office, having long since set up surveillance in the training room. The girls, as well as Jin and Zeke loved watching the fights after the fact. He wasn’t recording this one. The defect he’d noticed previously had resurfaced: he had optic lubricant running down his face again. He reran the diagnostic, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with his lubrication arrays. And yet there were what appeared to be tears. Jeeves seriously considered wiping his databanks of the incident from almost eighty years ago, but the thought of wiping part of his own memory, especially considering what had happened in the last week…
He’d known what horrid fate would befall Carl’s wife and daughter but could do nothing about it. He hated having this knowledge in his head, as well as knowing about the hidden parts of the mansion under a time lock that Carl was unaware of, as well as why it was hidden, under a time lock, and why Carl couldn’t be allowed to know. Too much rode on what was to come. He looked up as his fellow conspirator stepped into the room, his ragged black robes whispering as they dragged on the floor and sighed. He was going to truly enjoy his upcoming vacation.
Chapter Ten
Some hours later, Camilla was using pillows to prop her up as she read a book, furiously rubbing her thighs together to try and quell some of her frustration. She’d been ready, willing, and so very horny. She felt so stupid for getting mad at Cenere for taking care of their mentor in his moment of darkness, but she couldn’t help it. All she wanted was to grab that sweet piece of maliness, rip his clothes off, and make sweet, sweet hate to him. She wanted to do everything the Bible said not to at least once and start working her way through the Kama Sutra afterwards with the gorgeous man.
But, instead, she was masturbating as she read cheap smut in his room and it Just. Wasn’t. Cutting. It.
She wanted to be pissed at her soon-to-be lover, absolutely livid that he chose to take care of his friend selflessly. But…she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at the little bastard.
She looked up as Cenere stepped into the room with a downtrodden look in his eye. His tail hung limply behind him as he made his way to the shower.
He stripped bloodied clothes off, hissing lightly as his torso was exposed to open air. A few of those ricocheting bullets hadn’t missed, and he hadn’t noticed until after he’d put Carl to bed. The hot water poured down his body, washing the excess blood off. His tactical vest had deadened most of the bullets impact, save the few that got past the kevlar, and the bruises were already fading. He ignited his hand, sterilizing the pair of forceps and scalpel he was about to use to dig the slugs out of his arm, thigh, and gut.
He turned off the water, then flinched slightly as he cut the wounds open and dug the bullets out, pressing his thumb against each wound as he went, hissing as the searing flames burned the injury away and left a faint scar where each bullet had marred his porcelain skin. Finally, he turned the hot tap back on and rested his head against the shower wall as the steaming water poured down his back.
The water hid his tears as he recalled Carl’s detailed account of what happened to Tristanna and Sophie. He hadn’t heard Camilla enter or disrobe so she startled him as she slowly wrapped her arms around the crying man and pressed her nude body against him. She murmured nothings in his ear as she simply held him.
She normally laughed at weepy men, thinking they were pathetic little pansies. Two of the strongest men she knew, however, had cried today. One for the destruction of his entire world and the other for the broken man he’d come to see as a father figure, not that he’d ever admit to it. For the loss of two people he’d never met. For how horrific death could be.
Cenere turned to face her, his eyes red, and buried his face in her chest as he cried. She turned the water off and simply held him, just let him cry as she rested her temple against his horn. He pulled back slightly and looked deeply into her eyes, and she suddenly felt very vulnerable as she began to blush deeply. Cenere grabbed her by the back of her head, and kissed her hungrily, desperately.
Within Cenere’s head, Duty was in a chokehold, getting throttled by Lust as he smacked Duty on the ass with a riding crop. “That! That was what we should have done from the start, you dumb prick! That!” Duty choked out a “go fuck yourself” before Lust knocked him out and rubbed his hands together with glee. He sat down on a piano bench as the metaphorical construct sprung into being and smiled as he began playing a tune as old as time, humming along as he looked out through Cenere’s eyes, and saw a magnificent sight.
Cenere and Camilla groaned into each other’s mouths as they stumbled out of the bathroom and towards the bed, nude as nymphs, their hands roaming and searing each
other with their touches. They fell on the bed with Cenere on top in a tangle of limbs. The pretty man stared into her eyes and kissed her lips, then the corner of her mouth as he kissed his way to her ear, gently sucking as he took her lobe in his teeth and growled. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she smiled broadly, grabbing a roaming hand as it not so gently squeezed a brown breast in its grasp. “I have wanted this since I first saw you, you gorgeous, amazing, sexy beast.”
“Is that sae?” Camilla bit her lip gently as Cenere went back to softly nibbling on her ear. “'N' just, hnn, whit dae ye plan on doin' tae me ?”
Cenere smiled as he looked deep into her eyes and leaned in to kiss her again, deliberately holding her down a little bit as he ever so slightly kept her from kissing him, “I’m going to make sweet love to you, gorgeous.”
Camilla’s face took on a faint blush and she forced her shoulders up from the bed, hungrily forcing her tongue into his mouth, and wrestled him under her. She smiled down at him predatorily, her voice husky as her full brogue came to the fore. “Loue making? Dae ah seem lik' th' kind o' lassie that wants that kind o' thing? Keek at mah tattoos! I’m nae some dainty flower -”
Cenere’s smile became sinister as he wrestled back into a position of power and held her wrists together as he grabbed a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. “Thank Lucy’s black and lacey garters! I was hoping you’d say that.” He grabbed a dog collar off his nightstand and slipped it around her neck. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed seeing one of these around your neck.”
“Is that sae? 'N' how come, pray tell, wid that be?” Camilla asked as she rubbed her thighs together. Every other guy she’d ever slept with had been a complete submissive, and she’d always gotten hot and bothered reading about men that ravished their women, controlling them completely. “Is it fur yi'll want tae conquer me? Tae mak' me yers?”
Cenere shook his head. “No. Because I want you to trust me. To…never mind, it’s not important.”
