by Alana Melos
VILLAINESS #3:
THE PRINCESS OF WANDS
by
Alana Melos
The Princess of Wands
Book 3 of the Villainess Series
Copyright 2016 © Alana Melos
Model Cover Photo © cokacoka @ depositphotos
All other artwork, graphic cover design, logo art, and graphic text © Jotham “Pipes” Talbot
Published: May 8th, 2016
Publisher: Alana Melos
The right of Alana Melos to be identified as the author of this Work is asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
Characters and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. All characters are at least 18 years old. All sexual acts portrayed in this work of fiction are consensual.
Author's Blog: http://alanamelos.blogspot.com
Author's email: [email protected]
Author's Twitter: @Alana_Melos
Contents:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Author's Notes
Excerpt from The Devil and Delilah
Links to Other Works
Bonus Short Story: The Razor's Edge
Prologue
Growing up, I lived on a secret island somewhere in the Pacific. It was quiet and peaceful, with no other living souls on it save for parents. We’d go to nearby islands from time to time for supplies, my father driving our boat wearing a horrendous Hawaiian shirt he thought he should be wearing since he was retired. My mother reclined in the back, watching the water with fascination to see if she could sense any sharks about so she could try and mind control them for pets. She had some peculiar habits, my mother did.
I would sit behind my father and wait eagerly closest to the exit of the boat, wanting to run out into the town and see everything I could see. Our island was beautiful, but boring. It never changed and there was no one else but us three. I wanted chaos, yearning for it for as long as I could remember. As a child, they’d let me run wherever I wished in the towns we visited, but always be close by in case I needed them. When I reached puberty that changed and my mother insisted I stay within sight. I knew why. After my powers bloomed, that first trip to market overwhelmed me. All the colors… all the thoughts… I wanted to play with them. I wanted to change and twist them, to make them into different patterns, to take them and make them mine. That was when my ‘lessons’ started. From then on out, I was never allowed to wander by myself.
It was no wonder why I never had any friends. Even after I ran away from home, I saw no need for them. I’d arrived in Los Angeles in the Western States of America at sixteen after stealing my mother’s sword and my dad’s boat to run to a neighboring island. From there, I hopped a cargo plane to the mainland .A friendly man greeted me at the airport. He saw someone young, naive, and innocent with no guardians. How so very wrong he was about the last two. He had the honor of being my first murder, but certainly not my last. The roll of cash he had in his pocket from his flesh trading gave me my first bankroll. I learned to survive by myself. I made my way cross country, never getting busted while committing crimes… by myself. I didn’t have anything in common with the people I ran across for the most part. Who else would have my tastes but other super villains? And villains, as we all know, couldn’t be trusted. Partners could, but that was work… and only after they were vetted. Or unless you had to take them. For recreation? Work was recreation for me. I practiced my sword work. I worked out. I lined up my next job. When I needed a fuck, I’d go out and find someone who was beautiful, but disposable.
My recent realization I needed backup also caused me to rethink the way I spent my social life. It wasn’t enough to just pull jobs together. Trust was built when people knew each other. When they spent time together, both inside and outside of work. They talked every day. They supported each other in various endeavors. Being as aloof as I was, I had no idea how to make a tool into a friend. That’s all people were to me: tools. I didn’t enjoy people’s company unless they were doing something for me. I couldn’t think of any reason I would want to spend time with people to just spend time with them.
Yet, as I wandered through my city, I watched people interact with each other. I watched them laugh at each other’s jokes, or cry over a broken heart. Scanning their minds, I looked at the threads, wondering at what combination was friendship exactly, what made a partnership into something more than the sum of its parts.
Many of the components of these partnerships--compassion, empathy, love--were missing in me. Those led to weakness, or so I had always believed. I hated to be thought of as weak. My failed attempt at shielding my allies in Axis still burned me, making me flush with anger every time something reminded me of it. I couldn’t see the point of caring. You’d just lose whatever you loved, or it would be used as a weapon against you. My parents held opposed views on some things, but on this they were united: the strong survived while the weak got crushed underfoot.
Chapter One
The knife jab narrowly missed my ribs as I stepped back and twisted. Gerard’s grin widened, knowing he had me on the ropes. I slid to the side and jabbed with my own blade, something much shorter than I was used to. I reacted in the wrong ways even after all our training, expecting the longer extension of my arm. The short knives felt alien to my hands and using two of them at once caused me to fumble more often than not. I grunted with effort, thrusting the dulled knife towards Gerard’s middle. He skipped to the side with graceful ease and parried.
“C’mon, Reece,” he taunted, his voice light. “You really have to use your telepathy that much as a crutch?”
I blew a few strands of my blond hair out of my face. He had to be cheating… because he always cheated. I just couldn’t tell how yet. Knife-fighting shouldn’t have been that different, but I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. I liked the longer reach of my o-wakizashi. This stab and run struck me as silly when I could use a better weapon. As much as I hated it, my mentor was right. Sometimes you had to use the weapon you had rather than the one you wanted, and thus these lessons in knifeplay.
Gerard, or Regulus to use his code name, stood a couple inches taller than me, but his reach wasn’t that great either. It became a matter of predicting his moves and anticipating where he was going to be. I shifted forward, thrusting with my left, then switched directions at the last second in a feint. He didn’t fall for it. Instead of ducking to the side, he pushed my arm aside and stepped in, rendering the attack with my right ineffective as I had tried to drive him to one place and he ended up in another. In the same smooth motion, his foot hooked around mine and down I went. I’d seen it coming a second too late and my ass hit the wood floor hard.
Instead of pressing his advantage, he backed up grinning his wicked grin. Still not used to the new lines on his older face,
I climbed to my feet slowly to save my energy. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Ger,” I growled.
“I love having you helpless and on your back,” he said, twirling the knives around in his hands. He’d been a knife fighter for years and there was no better teacher to be had. Even if he was an ass about it.
I edged forward with caution then slashed at him. He blocked the blow and sent one of his own my way. I blocked it, but only because he let me. “I thought you liked me on top,” I said, twisting my hand around so my blade scraped down the edge of his. I pressed forward and he stepped back, disengaging his blades from mine and moving to the side.
This time, I anticipated the move and swept out in a wide arc. I almost… almost had him. The knife blade touched the side of his arm and I smiled. It faded a moment later as I realized he had sacrificed the hit to step in close once more. Three rapid taps on my back told me he would have gotten my kidney. Right after I registered what happened, he stepped back to reset the fight scenario. We had gone back and forth like this for a half hour and I’d begun to sweat. I might have been losing, but it was a good workout.
“Top, bottom, table, chair, bed… doesn’t matter where you are,” he said, tossing his head back to flick a lock of hair from his brow. He stood there bouncing on the balls of his feet. Since we were sparring, he wore simple clothing: a white tank top and black sweats. The top showed off his body, how muscular but lean he was like a razor. Being utterly vain like myself, he enjoyed showing off his body. To display mine, I had worn a black sports bra and dark blue short-shorts and that was all. I always dressed to distract him when I came for a lesson. Sooner or later his arrogance would rear its ugly head and he would let himself fall into my trap, paying more attention to my body than my actions.
“You want to teach me, or just beat me?” I asked him, circling around once more.
“Both,” he said, grinning. His sharp features darkened and his grin turned dangerous. “You know how much I love working your body over.”
That certainly rang true. I half-thought he’d agreed to teach me so he could fuck me on a regular basis. I didn’t complain. He was a good lover, one who knew my body better than myself. It wasn’t just the lessons I looked forward to coming here.
Deciding it was time for me to cheat, I lunged at him knowing he would step back. As I did, I formed the picture of a large block in my mind and projected it with my telekinesis behind his foot, intent on tripping him up. He stepped back, hit the block, and his arms windmilled for a moment as he tried to regain his footing. I jumped on top of him, reverting back to my brawling rather than knife-fighting, and down we both went. Reversing the blade in my hand, I punched him in the side using the handle to make it really hurt. He grunted and twisted, letting go of one of his knives to grab my ponytail and pull hard.
Even though I was on top of him, he was still the stronger physically. My head cocked to the side and down as he pulled and my body went with it, ripping me away from my attack on his midsection. I couldn’t lift my other arm for a viable attack. Instead of hitting him, I moved into him and kissed him, hard. Gerard didn’t let go of my hair, but the rest of his body relaxed as he returned the kiss, sliding his tongue along mine… until he felt the knife blade at his throat.
“Ha!” he said as he broke the kiss. “That shows me.”
“It does indeed,” I replied, looking into his perfect ice blue eyes. As I straddled him, I felt him grow hard beneath me. My body answered that call and I moved along his length, encouraging him to get harder still.
“You broke our rules though, so it’s not a victory,” he said, the grip on my hair easing until he was stroking it with his hand.
“Any win you walk away from, isn’t that what they say?” I breathed. “Besides, you cheated too.”
“I was not,” he said his voice indignant, but a corner of his mouth betrayed the lie… I thought. He was such a good liar. He had no tells and showed emotion only when he chose to. Unless I was in his head, I could never quite tell when he was being truthful with me.
We continued to stare at each other, the electricity we shared grew, building up tension. His grin faded into a more serious expression and his eyes became misty, a faraway look coming to them. I sent a tendril of thought towards him wondering what he was thinking, but he kept his shields up. Since I had to use much of my telepathic power for diverting vampiric blood induced feelings in my head for another man, I couldn’t press him. It was hard to sneak into a telepath’s head anyway; most of them were always aware of everything which went on in their mind.
Instead I studied his handsome, aristocratic face. He was too lean and sharp for some people’s tastes, but the angles worked for him. He’d aged well. The Doctor had changed his appearance to reflect his true age since his altered genetic structure didn’t allow him to grow older. I wondered if that meant he was immortal unless someone killed him or an accident happened. I shivered. Even if that were true, it wasn’t worth the price of someone mucking with your DNA.
“Kiss me again,” he said, arching up as he spoke.
“Well, aren’t you pushy for being on the bottom?” I replied with half a smile. Instead of obeying him, I slid my body along his, reveling in the soft groan he gave me at the motion.
He didn’t take it lying down. Gerard dropped his remaining knife and pushed up and over. I laughed and let him as I knew he was going to do that. He liked being on top too much and just a little bit of rebellion excited him beyond measure. As he flipped me over to my back, he kneed my legs apart, and we ended up with tangled limbs. His hardness rubbed against the inside of my hip while the top of his thigh pressed against my sex firmly. Taking the kiss he wanted then withdrawing, he smiled.
“Was that so hard?” he asked, voice soft and seductive.
“Something’s hard,” I replied, shifting my hips so I could rub against him.
“You have that effect on me,” he whispered, stealing another kiss.
I kissed him back, tasting his lips. Although he was beginning to get my motor running, I had other things to do. “Get off,” I said, sighing the words. “I don’t have time for sex.”
“There’s always time for sex,” he laughed. Normally, that would be true, but the sessions we had would start… and hours later, we’d finally have enough of each other. Sex with another telepath intoxicated me in a way I’d never had trouble with before. I drank and had done drugs before, but nothing ever seemed to stick to me and the paltry high gotten wasn’t worth it. Blood got me going… blood and sex. Sex with Gerard even more so since he could project his pleasure, heightening mind. It was my drug of choice currently and I regretted the time crunch. If I had a few hours to kill, I would have had him already and be ready for round two.
“I can’t,” I said, pushing on him. He wasn’t much bigger than me and his torso moved a little until he pressed down again. “I have to get ready to go out.”
“You have work?” he said, running a hand down my side to my thigh. “I can tag along, after.”
“No, not work… get off, Ger,” I said, squirming a little.
He took another kiss and I bit his lip. Laughing again, he looked down at me, his blue eyes shaded. His thigh moved against my pussy and I shivered lightly as he sent sweet thoughts of what he wanted to do. “Afterwards,” he said, kissing my cheek.
“Come on, Jerry,” I said, sneering the word. “I don’t have all day.”
He mock winced. “Oh, the hated nickname,” he said, his dark grin returning a second later. The hand on my thigh slipped inside, testing my skin, seeking my sex. He wasn’t going to stop and he had this thing where he didn’t care about people other than himself. I think I got into his inner circle and was thought of as his, much the same way I thought of my own people: they were mine. Gerard still didn’t get I didn’t belong to anyone.
I pushed with my hands again and this time added my telekinesis to it. I didn’t modulate my strength and he went flying off of me and to the side. I jumped to
my feet as he hit the wall. Recovering quickly, he climbed to his feet, scowling at me.
“I told you no,” I said, simply stating the fact. Gerard’s mental state may have been ‘it’s all mine mine mine’ ala Daffy Duck, but I didn’t blame him too much. It was the way he was and I accepted that. Sadly, among men that mentality was all too common and among black hats it was damn near a requirement.
The scowl turned to a sunny smile in a blink. “Aw, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said, chuckling like the good old boy he pretended to be. “Rebekah’s stopping by in a bit anyway.” He moved around our practice area, scooping up the practice knives. “Next week? We’ll see if that compulsion has worn off enough for you to work telepathically.”
I nodded, picking up the blunted knife at my feet and tossing it to him. “Maybe then,” I said with a sigh. The quarantine zone I maintained in my head against the compulsory effects of the vampire blood took much of my telepathic power. I could still talk telepathically, and read emotions… but that was about it unless I dropped the zone. If I did that, I wasn’t sure I’d get it up again and I would find my wonderfully sadistic vampire and throw myself at his feet. It didn't help at all with my training with Gerard. Sure, I was learning how to fight with a knife which was always a useful skill… but it wasn’t increasing my power, which was what I truly wanted.
He walked out of the practice area with me into his new living room. Since he’d changed identities, he decided to move back into Imperial City proper. Like myself, he lived on the upper east side and, again like myself, he kept it on the downlow here since quite a few white hats shared our building. His new apartment was high up and decorated like a mansion from Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. Every stick of furniture, every bit of cloth, every piece of art had cost him an arm and a leg, but he had money to burn. He’d mind controlled investors and bankers for years, building up a stash of cash which left me panting once I knew how much it was. I fucked him hard that night.
