Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3)

by Edmund Hughes

  Ms. Dion looked annoyed that he’d gotten the question right. Malcolm leaned back in his chair, feeling more than a little smug. Somebody whispered a joke off to Malcolm’s left, and several people snickered.

  He was not the most popular student with either his classmates or his teachers, though not for lack of personality. Losing his mother and brother on Day One had pushed people away from him, rather than drawing support and kindness. It was unfair, but after five years of living on his own, he’d learned to make do.

  “That’s correct, Malcolm,” said Ms. Dion. “Moving on…”

  Malcolm listened to her for another minute or two, only lowering his head down to his desk once the professor’s attention had moved elsewhere. He carefully worked his earbuds out of the collar of his shirt where he’d hidden them, slipping them into his ears and smiling as he pressed the play button on his phone.

  The playlist he had queued up was filled nineties alt rock. It had been just about all his older brother Danny had listened to, back when he’d been alive. It made Malcolm feel nostalgic, even if he did find some of the melodramatic lyrics to be super cheesy.

  He kept his eyes on Ms. Dion, making a halfhearted attempt at looking like he was still paying attention. She said something, and then gestured to the blackboard. Malcolm’s fellow students were all pulling out sheets of paper, probably the brainstorming exercise they’d been assigned the week before.

  He started to reach into his own folder, the sound of a guitar solo filling his ears, and then stopped. A chill ran up the back of his neck. It was suddenly hard to breathe. His hands were shaking, and fingers cramping. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his heart pounded in his chest. It felt like somebody had just flipped the panic switch, and his body was all too happy to oblige.

  What the hell?

  “Malcolm?”

  One of the earbuds had fallen out, and he could hear Ms. Dion walking over to his desk. Malcolm shivered, his body cold and feverish at the same time. He was in pain, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. He clasped his hands over his temples and buried his head against his desk.

  Several silent seconds went by. When Malcolm finally opened his eyes, everyone in the room was staring at him. Papers were strewn across the floor, scattered as though a rough breeze had pushed in through one of the windows and run amuck in the orderly classroom.

  But none of the windows are open…

  On the edge of Malcolm’s awareness, he could feel something new. It was as though his body had a new appendage, a new set of muscles, invisible and outside of what he considered to be his actual body. He stretched his hand out and slowly closed it, focusing on the new sensation at the same time.

  A gust of wind swept over the desk in front of him, completely ruining the carefully straightened hair of the girl sitting there and almost ripping her blouse open.

  “Whoa…” Malcolm blinked, and then let out a small, surprised laugh.

  Ms. Dion was pointing at him, her eyes wide, her jaw dropped as far open as it would go. One student was filming him on their phone, and then suddenly, half a dozen others were doing the same, a few of them standing up to get a better angle.

  Malcolm stood up, too. He tried it again, this time reaching toward one of the motivational posters hanging from the classroom wall. He summoned the wind and casually pulled it loose, spinning it in complicated loops and twirls, and directing back over to his hand, just to see if he could.

  He was still sweating, and focusing on doing whatever it was he was doing felt like exercise. Endorphins pumped through his body, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he swirled gusts of wind around himself.

  “You’re one of them…” said Ms. Dion. “You’re… gifted. You’re one of the champions!”

  “Yeah, apparently.” Malcolm shrugged, unsure of what to say. “Huh.”

  He took a step forward, and then realized that there was absolutely no reason for him to stay in the classroom. Everyone had their phone out. News of a newborn champion always spread like wildfire. Regardless of what he did, from that point forward, his life would never be the same.

  Malcolm took a slow breath and walked out of the room. Several of his fellow classmates followed him, still recording, or possibly live streaming. He glanced at them over his shoulder and briefly considered using the wind to smash the devices against the wall.

  You know what? Let’s see if I can give them something worth filming.

  CHAPTER 2

  Malcolm ran through Vanderbrook Community College’s hallways, taking long, loping steps. He could feel the full extent and flow of the wind, even slight motions in it. It almost reminded him of being underwater.

  On top of that, Malcolm could also feel the extent of his power. The wind was a physical thing, waiting for him to call out to and control. It took more than just a thought to do it, more like concentrated will, but it was easy.

  It felt like controlling a part of his body, and Malcolm took advantage of it. He pushed the wind hard against his back as he ran, propelling himself forward with inhuman speed.

  The students he passed by stared at him in shock. The wind swept across each of them in turn, scattering locks of hair, pushing up dresses and skirts, knocking loose binders from hands. Malcolm felt like some kind of god.

  A champion. Technically not a god, but it’s really a pretty minor distinction.

  He burst through the front door of the college and laughed. More people were following him now, professors and students alike, filming on their phones. Vanderbrook, as small of a town as it was, only had a couple of native champions that Malcolm knew about.

  Most of them had appeared on Day One of the Phenomenon, and the few that had gained their powers in the time since then had been underwhelming in their capabilities. Malcolm remembered one, a mailman who eventually earned the nickname “Sharp Eye”.

  Sharp Eye was gifted with perfect hand to eye coordination, which gave him amazing dexterity and skill when it came to things like throwing balls and catching… balls. The media had still greeted him with enormous fanfare, catapulting Sharp Eye to instant local fame. He’d moved out of Vanderbrook after a while, but was still listed in the town’s Wikipedia article under the “Famous Residents” section.

  A news van was already approaching from down the street. Malcolm wasn’t ready to sit down and give interviews. He flexed his hand, feeling for his new ability, and tried to do the obvious thing.

  Gathering the wind around him in powerful gusts, Malcolm took a step forward, and leapt into the air. He pushed against his legs and feet with all the wind he could summon, hovered for a second or two, and then slowly descended back to the ground.

  “Fly!” shouted one of the students filming him. “Come on! Take off, man! That would be so cool!”

  “Yeah, well, easier said than done,” said Malcolm. He frowned, feeling outward and taking stock of the strength of his wind power. He could sense that he didn’t have quite enough to fly, or at least if he did, he still didn’t know how to focus it in a way that would give him proper lift.

  Let’s try something else, then.

  Malcolm took off at a run, slowly using the wind to lengthen each stride, and push himself forward faster and faster. One of the college’s buildings was right on the edge of campus, and it had a metal fire escape staircase extending up the side.

  He hurtled up, reaching the top of the building and using the wind to stop on a dime. He waved to the news crew, who were still in the process of getting their camera set up. There was another noise, and Malcolm glanced up to see a news chopper there, as well, filming him from above.

  “That’s bold,” he muttered. “Especially given the nature of my power.”

  He imagined what would happen if he sent a strong gust into the helicopter from the side, or hit it with wind from directly above, slamming down into its blades. Part of Malcolm delighted at the idea, even though he knew that it would probably get the people inside killed. Using his pow
er felt amazing, and he wasn’t sure how much it mattered what he used it for.

  Malcolm shook the thoughts away, instead focusing on a less deadly alternative. There was a building nearby, just across the street, and the roof was a story or two lower than the one he was currently on. His body tingled with excitement. He wanted to do it. He had to do it.

  He broke off at a dead sprint, pulling the wind along with him. There was a small concrete lip around the building’s edge, and he set one foot on it before pushing off into open air. The wind hurtled him forward, his clothes flapping against his skin. He moved forward, still descending slightly, but easily crossing the gap and landing on the new building’s roof with several feet to spare.

  “YES!” he shouted. “Hell yeah!”

  There was more to it than just exhilaration. Using his wind powers had an extra euphoric edge to it. Malcolm kept running across the new building’s roof, immediately leaping to another nearby. He soared through the air and landed on target, crossing a distance of fifty feet, at least.

  The news copter kept pace with him. He considered whether he could outrun it. Malcolm jumped to another building, and then another, each time feeling more comfortable with the extent of his abilities.

  He was moving out of Vanderbrook’s modest downtown area and into the residential neighborhoods. Cars were stopped in the street. People stood in clumps on sidewalks, pointing at him, and trying to snap photos. Malcolm waved at them, looking away as he jumped from one house to another.

  He cleared the gap easily, and landed in the center of an open skylight. Malcolm’s surprise manifested in his chest, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to push himself upward with the wind as he fell. It wasn’t enough.

  He landed in a bedroom, on top of a bed. The fall was gentle, bruising his pride, more than his body. Malcolm let go of the wind for a moment and felt his thoughts immediately start to clear up.

  I need to chill. Making the press chase me and jumping on people’s roofs is probably not the best way to introduce myself to the world as a champion.

  “You…” said a woman’s voice. “You’re… him.”

  There was someone else in the bed. An attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties was underneath the sheets directly beside him, holding a comforter up to her neckline. Her hair was red, and her face was pretty and slightly freckled. She was staring at a large flat screen TV on the other side of the room, which was currently tuned into the local news.

  “We’re not sure where the new champion is at the moment,” said a reporter. “He was jumping from building to building, probably testing out the strength of his abilities, but it seems as though he managed to slip away after one of the jumps.”

  “Interesting,” said another reporter. “And do we know anything about the identity of this champion? Or the nature of his powers?”

  “We’ve spoken with several students at Vanderbrook Community College who claim that he was a student there,” said the first reporter. “They also say that his abilities are related to either gravity, or the wind.”

  “Fascinating,” said the other reporter.

  Malcolm shook his head, unsure of how to feel about hearing them talk about him in the third person. He sat up on the bed, noticing the woman again and feeling like a massive dick for intruding on her space.

  “I… am so sorry,” said Malcolm. “I’m just going to let myself out.”

  “Hold on!” said the woman. “Please. Let me get a picture with you, at least!”

  She stood up, still holding the sheet around her, and started walking toward the table where she’d set her phone. Malcolm chuckled and shook his head, feeling a bit awkward.

  “I’m a trespasser,” he said. “I think it’s probably best if I just go.”

  “Really?” The woman smiled at him. She had a gorgeous smile, and there was something vaguely flirtatious about the gleam in her eye.

  “Yes, really,” said Malcolm. “The press is going to figure out that I’m here in a couple of minutes.”

  The woman let the sheet drop. She was naked underneath.

  “There must be… something I can do to convince you to stay,” said the woman. “Just for a minute or two?”

  She slowly walked toward him. Her body was incredible, and Malcolm gaped openly at her big breasts. She seemed confident in her sexuality, and her smile only grew broader as she noticed the blush in Malcolm’s cheeks.

  “Whoa, okay,” he said, scratching his head. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  She stepped in close to him and set a finger on his lips. Malcolm had fooled around a bit with girls before, but he’d never had one come onto him like this. And certainly, not one this attractive before, or this serious about getting what she wanted.

  “Please?” asked the woman. “I’ll do the convincing upfront?”

  She pushed him back, and Malcolm fell onto the bed. Her hands were immediately on his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, and then pulling them down. He reached down, ready to stop her. She took his hand by the wrist and brought his index finger into her mouth, sucking on the length of it and letting out a seductive moan.

  “Wow…” he said. There wasn’t much else for him to say. The woman pulled his boxers down. He was already hard, and watched her with all the focus of a horny teenage male as she pursed her lips and wrapped her hand around his shaft.

  “You’re just a boy,” said the woman, in a teasing voice. “But you’re still a champion.”

  She planted a kiss on the tip of his erection, and Malcolm felt pleasure surge into him from the point of contact. Her lips slowly parted, and she brought her head down, pulling him into a warm, wet paradise of mouth and tongue.

  Maybe this is just one of the perks of the job?

  He watched her slowly begin to suck, half dazed from the pleasure of it. The woman knew exactly what she was doing, and Malcolm wasn’t all that surprised. She didn’t even know his name, yet, and they were already fooling around. Though, she knew that he was one of the gifted, a champion, and perhaps that detail was all that really mattered to her.

  The woman’s hand stroked the base of his shaft, while her tongue and lips pleasured the tip and upper half. She was confident, deliberate, and beautiful. Malcolm reached his hand out and ran it across her cheek. The woman took it as encouragement, and slid her lips down even further.

  Her tongue was doing a little trick, tapping and teasing the sensitive underside of his erection. She was looking at him, her green eyes locked onto his, full of excitement and pride. It was as though she felt like she was getting more out of it than he was, and maybe that was true, in way.

  “Oh…” Malcolm ran his hand through her hair. “Hey… I’m about to…”

  The woman moved started moving her mouth faster. Her lips made a tight seal around his shaft, unyielding, even as Malcolm passed over the edge. He bucked his hips upward and groaned as the pleasure hit him in an incredible burst. The woman kept sucking, running one hand along his thigh, encouraging him to unload in her hot mouth.

  And he did.

  CHAPTER 3

  Malcolm was drained from the experience. He leaned his head back in the bed, closing his eyes for a moment. His day had been incredible, and there was still so much waiting for him outside. It was a little intimidating, now that he had a chance to think about it.

  “Smile!” The woman slid up next to him in bed, taking a selfie of the two of them before Malcolm had a chance to say anything. “That one’s for my Instagram.”

  “Hey,” he said. “That’s kind of rude.”

  He stood up and started pulling his pants on. The woman kept taking photos.

  “Hey!” he said, a little louder.

  “Relax,” she said. “They’re just photos. And they’re going to be worth a fortune. The first intimate photos of a new champion, not even an hour into his powers.”

  “Are you… being serious right now?”

  The woman took another photo. Malcolm scowled, reaching
out with the wind and trying to knock the phone out of her hand. She clutched it to her naked breasts and glared at him.

  “If you try to hurt me, I swear to god I’ll start filming!” she said. “Do you want that to be the world’s first impression of you?”

  Malcolm massaged his temples.

  “Okay, I’m gonna go,” he said.

  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

  She followed him, taking photos even as he walked out her front door and into the street. The news copter had apparently gone off in another direction, and there was no media presence waiting for him.

  He wasn’t sure what, exactly, to do next. He’d left his backpack on campus, but there wasn’t much in it that he needed, beyond some textbooks and an extra hooded sweatshirt. Heading home would mean submerging himself into the media frenzy again. There was no doubt that the press would have his apartment staked out.

  Malcolm started walking down the sidewalk, headed in a direction that would take him toward the outskirts of town. He felt for his powers again, but didn’t use them, remembering how he’d been swept up in the sensation last time. The powers had an allure to them, a mysterious intensity that pulled him in.

  He’d been walking for close to ten minutes when a black BMW slowed to a stop next to him. Malcolm sighed and forced a smile onto his face, figuring that he might have to sign an autograph, or maybe pose for a photo.

  The tinted driver’s side window rolled down and a young woman smiled at him from behind it. She was attractive, and probably close to the same age as him. She had blonde hair, green eyes, and a curious confidence about her, as though she knew something important that he didn’t.

  “You aren’t going to run off again, are you?” she asked. “It took us far longer than we expected to pinpoint your location, young man.”

  Malcolm snorted.

  “Young man?” he asked. “You’re like, the same age as me. And… wait a second, what did you just say?”