by J. E. Keep
If there was one thing she hated about her job, it was definitely the hours. In that she had to be working nearly all of them. It was lucky enough that she had a few hours off for a fuck last night, and that was only because she was planning for the bullshit that would be this day. She wondered if she'd be so lucky tonight, but doubted it. Chances are someone'd get in a ruckus and she'd have to break it up. The daily grind.
As night fell, the bar really hit its stride. Though always dark, as so many of its denizens preferred, it was packed, always with a ton of people coming and going, even after the harsh new rental raises. There was some sound of fighting from inside, though that was quite ordinary, and hadn't reached the point of alarm yet. Zwi’s new 'deputy' clip-clopped up to her again.
“Ma'am!” he said, calling out to her, his green eyes shimmering only a little in the darkness.
She immediately looked toward the familiar voice, moving quickly toward him before hissing at him to keep it down.
“You don't need everyone knowing you know me!” she reminded him harshly, getting quite tired and cranky now without the help of her drugs.
Nodding to her with a bob of his shaggy haired head, he responded, “Oh right!” Waving at her to follow him, he stepped around into the dark alley beside her apartment building, nobody in the grimy dark recesses there.
She moved along with him, leaning against the wall almost lazily.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice still quiet, but above a hissed whisper.
Smiling up at her widely, he rocked back and forth on his hooves, hands clasped behind him.
“They was talkin' about what you did earlier. The folks, I mean. Kept sayin' how there was supposed to be some big sign against the bosses, but it never happened.”
She smiled a tight-lipped smile, her brows raising lightly. “Is that so? And are they hoping to reconcile this?” she asked.
Shrugging his shoulders to her he continued, “I don't know nothin' about that, but some of them were right down about it. Said they was expectin' a big 'reckonin'’ they said.” He seemed to be quite excited with his information, or at least with sharing it with her. “Though most folks seemed glad nothin' came of it. Said they were afraid it'd have caused too big of a fuss and got them all in trouble or some such.”
“It's true,” she said, feeding him information. “Not like the bosses are gonna just say 'alright, well, let's not bother them no more.' They’re likely just to punish everyone. Harder,” her eyes narrowed in warning, “Can you make sure people understand that if they say anythin' to you about it?”
His ovalish eyes widen at her words, a request? No! A mission! She gave him a mission! That seemed to be what his glossy eyes said, as they shimmered even in the dark shadows if the alleyway.
“Oh yes, ma'am!” he said excitedly. “I'll do just that! And... and I'll be real sly about it too, no worries!” He grinned at her.
“We all gotta look out for one another, right?” There was pretty much no conviction in her voice and she was just saying what she hoped he'd be most susceptible to believing without asking for additional payment. Though, if the people weren't rioting, she was pretty happy about it all. At least then she wouldn't get in shit.
Despite her hopes, the idea of everyone looking out for each other seemed kind of new to him, and gave him a moment of confused pause.
“Uh, sure ma'am!” His excitement was so great at being given an official duty by her. “I won’t let you down. Swear!” With that he clicked his hooves on the stone alleyway.
She let out a soft sigh as he left, wondering if she shouldn't just go home. She did have her payment for a day's hard work, after all. And, well, her boss had given it to her. She shivered slightly.
Next time she should ask for a bonus, she decided. She did save his life, after all. And the other people's lives, of course. She figured it'd have to suck double hard to die as an immortal and, besides, the orcs were pretty set on it. She wouldn't tell him how close they were, though. In her retelling, she’d known what they were doing before they were!
As she considered calling it an early night, there was the continued sounds of some ruckus going on in the bar, and one high pitched cry — very un-orcish — though the fight itself never sounded too terribly out of control. Well, not by New Azoth’s standards.
She might as well check that out, she reckoned, moving toward the direction of the scream. Maybe it was the elf from the night before, she thought with some wry amusement. He was fun, though.
Entering into the bar, there did seem to be a fight going on, around which many of the denizens were gathered, drinking as they did indeed watch the elf from the other night — topless now, and a bit bruised and cut up — bare-fisted boxing with some rather tall and exceptionally broad shouldered orc, who, though equally as topless, was doing a much better job at the fight, with his lack of cuts and bruises.
She almost laughed at the sight, staring at the elf incredulously. He just didn't learn, did he? Or maybe he thought that since she rewarded him so well the night before he'd get lucky again. Still, she quickly moved into the front of the circled crowd.
“What now?” she shouted over the loud noise of the bar
If it was all some act, he didn't seem to show it well. As she laughed at him he cast a dark, amber glare over at her before a big orcish fist came crashing down into his jaw, knocking him down to one knee as he spat up blood. The sight of the small elven man taking on the massive orc was rather ridiculous, especially since by the look of things the orc was by far the superior fighter.
Moving through the crowd, Frellen, dressed the same as always and looking as tall and striking as ever, slid in near her, murmuring to her through the din.
“The orc bought him a drink,” he said, as if it explained everything.
“Hey!” she cried out, hoisting her gun up as the orc took another swing. “Fuck off with that. The bartender doesn't need to be cleaning up blood all night any more than you need to be wearing less clothes right now,” she said, all the while staring down the shot of her gun, directed to the orc.
She wasn't in the mood for this. “Now simmer down or I'll pop you in your knee.” In demonstration she let the gun drop to the direction of his kneecap.
The large orc begrudgingly took a step back, all the while giving a tusked glare at the woman pointing the gun. Slowly his fists lowered as he backed away, victorious at least. Moving to the bar he grabbed a mug of some drink, as the elf pushed himself back up to his feet. Rubbing the large, obviously swollen spot on his jaw where he was just struck, he moved after the orc and gave him another punch in the back. The orc, however, just continued to drink, ignoring the low thud it made and seeming unperturbed.
She moved up to the elf, dropping the gun to her side and yanking his shoulder, spinning him to face her.
“What the fuck is your problem? Two days, two fucking fights?”
His lower lip was broken and bleeding, another addition to the giant welt that was swelling up on the side of his jaw. He gave her a sort of drunken look, as if seeing her for the first time.
“Hey!” he declared loudly. “It's you.” His handsomeness and charm were somewhat faded in his current state. “I just kicked some ass,” he declared with certainty, to the sound of laughter around the bar.
“Yea, you sure did,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You can't come back now, you just kicked so much ass that everyone's too afraid of you to drink here when you're around. So you have to go now.”
Fuck, why did this job feel so much like a job lately?
He was quite intoxicated, though some kind soul tossed his clothes in a pile onto his back and head as he spoke.
“Fuck 'em, serves 'em ri—” he started. He was silenced by a heap of his own clothing.
The tall apparition-like Frellen slunk away from her side entirely, back through the crowd to his usual spot elsewhere.
“You need to leave,” she said again, more sternly this time, everything else fa
ding out to background noise, “And if you're not going to leave on your own, you'll be tossed out. Now. Move it,” her hand grabbed his shoulder, shoving him toward the door.
The smaller man stumbled towards the door with her push, reaching the exit as he twisted a bit and declared, “You've seen the last of me! Vaga... vagabonds!” He then managed to push through the door with a mix of drunkenness and woozy-headed swaying.
She breathed in the night air, following after him to ensure he made it all the way out.
“I don't want to see you in there no more. You've had more fights in there than anyone I know.” It was a bald faced lie, but she didn't care. She was tired of dealing with this and just wanted to get high. And masturbate. At the same time.
“Get your ass somewhere to sleep,” she said.
Reaching up he began to pull the jacket and shirt from his head. “Is that an offer?” he asked without turning back around.
“No,” she said, annoyed, “You spat at my hospitality last night,” she moved towards her own place. “An alley might sober you up a bit.”
“You'll come crawlin' back. They all do,” he said, stumbling away.
“Maybe once you sober up,” she said with a sneer. Last thing she needed was a drunk puking on her nethers. She reached between her breasts, pulling out the satchel and, from within it, her keys, walking to her building.
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More by the Authors
Series:
The Vixen:
The Vixen Torn
The Vixen Arises
The Vixen Triumphant
Leon:
When Dreamers Wake
Chanting the Ancient Lay
Novels:
Theodora's Descent
Corrupted Hearts
Magic Academy
The Warlord’s Concubine
The Mistress
Vile Wasteland
Forgotten Thrones
Novellas:
In Her Dreams
Brutal Passions
Brought the Stars to You
Bound as the World Burns
Her Master’s Madness
Biography
J.E. & M. Keep love to combine fantasy, scifi, horror, romance and mystery into exciting and titillating novels.
They are long term, loving partners in a very happy relationship and because of this, they love to torture their characters. Dark romance touches all of their stories in one way or another, from elicit trysts to forbidden love.
Some of their work contains dubious consent and erotic pain, so it’s not for the faint of heart. Their stories are often called twisted and arousing – at the same time.
All work is 18+, trigger warnings available on the second page of every book. If you want to hear about new releases, sign up for the newsletter!
Owners of Darknest Fantasy Erotica, J.M. Keep has been writing smut as a pair for over 10 years.
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