by Susan Laine
These sorts of clashes between the mundane earth and the mythical realm were pretty commonplace these days, unfortunately. I wasn’t the only one who no longer batted an eye. Most of the mythical beings had fortified dwellings, magicks, high technology, large gatherings, or all of the above. Elves had the advantage of superior technology and cities high up in the sky or deep below the ocean surface, as such inaccessible through conventional means.
“… local news, a building has burned down in the Sunset District. Upon closer examination of the debris, a midsized phoenix nest was discovered, recently vacated. The fire marshal at the scene believes the hatching of the phoenix accounts for the fire and the ferocity with which the structure burned to cinders….”
At this point I tuned out and then turned the radio off. Whatever news was out there to be heard, I’d get the gist of it from Ford. He was an avid listener to everything around him, always keeping an ear to the ground.
Right then I missed him to bits, and I couldn’t wait to get him in my arms. My cock was at half-mast by the time I parked in the mall’s underground parking lot. Killing the engine and ending the vibrations did nothing to dampen my raging libido.
I texted Ford to get a bearing on him, and he replied immediately.
We met at the food court.
Or more to the point, I saw him across the food court, waving at me—just as the alarm bells sounded, a high-pitched noise cutting through the general background chatter.
Pink lights flashed all around, like a dozen strobe lights at a nightclub, and sugary sweet Muzak surrounded us. Then the giggles and delighted screams sounded, and I cursed out loud.
I ran toward a grinning Ford, and I wasn’t the only one running for cover.
The mall speakers rattled. “They’re coming…. Run!” Before the alerting party got any further, he made a muffled groan, and then he started chortling like a hyena.
By then I had reached Ford.
Unfortunately, the moment I touched his arm, I felt the hit on my back.
I saw rainbow-colored bubbles floating and pink hearts dancing in my field of vision as the blow from a cupid’s bow reached my consciousness, tearing through my bloodstream and making its endorphin-induced way into my heart, groin, and senses.
And then all I saw was Ford, who was holding me upright, smiling. His pupils were as dilated as mine undoubtedly were. Lust coursed through my being, ripping away my defenses and my sense of public decency.
Vaguely, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the little cupids flying past me, laughing, their wings fluttering, their imp-like faces grinning, and their bright eyes full of mischief.
But Ford was my main concern. He was surrounded by a pulsating halo of pure light and dirty desire. I may have imagined it in my drugged-out state, but it could have been real too.
I heard a howl and faintly realized I had made the sound. This wasn’t the first time I had been hit by a cupid’s arrow, unfortunately.
Then I was tearing at Ford’s clothes, my mouth crashing on his, claiming him with feral force. He tasted like chocolate coffee and apple custard, so he must have had a snack before I got there. But the underlying flavor unique to Ford alone made my toes curl, my hands fist, and my cock stand up so erect it could have cut glass or stone.
In my desperation to get Ford naked, I was barely aware of him dragging me toward the closest store and then shoving me into a fitting room. On our way there, I had noted other people engaged in various sensual and sexual acts that turned the familiar mall into a luxurious palace of orgies. Greek-style columns had magically appeared, and springs of clear blue water, copses of lush vegetation, and bedding of all shapes and sizes filled the floor.
The magicks of the Unveiled world couldn’t have mattered less to me the moment the door of the fitting room slammed shut, and the lock clicked in place.
Ford pushed me against the back wall. I felt the sharp pain of a metal hook digging into my back, but I honestly didn’t care. The need inside me was too potent to resist.
I turned the tables by grabbing Ford’s neck and back and tossing him around so his back was to the wall, and my front pressed on him, hard. I ground against him, my nails ripping at his clothes once more. He wore his typical stylish button-down shirt, and I heard the pings as the buttons tore off and hit the floor.
Then… glorious skin. My hands and mouth had a field day. I dove into my meal with an insatiable hunger, licking and sucking and nipping and biting to my cock’s content. I wanted him so badly.
Ford shoved my jacket off my shoulders and then yanked my shirt above my head. I could barely give him the time to do that, impatient at my hands staying tangled in the shirt for precious seconds. Finally freed, I wrapped my arms around his waist and suckled on his puckered nipples. Ford groaned, a deep guttural sound of pure lust.
God, I love you, Ford, so damn much.
“I love you, Sam,” Ford whispered in between pants. His hands raked through my hair to grip hard, to keep my mouth in place.
I may have mumbled something incoherent back, but I couldn’t be sure. My tongue spiraled around that nub of flesh, hot and throbbing against me. I kept pulling him closer, as though I would not feel satisfied until I was sinking into him, becoming a permanent part of him.
“Sam, please, fuck me,” Ford muttered, and I shivered at the plea.
I dropped to my knees, the hard floor uncomfortable in its unyielding quality. I all but shredded his zipper to get his khakis and boxer briefs down his legs. Finally, that hot, hard piece of flesh hit my face, and eagerly I wrapped my lips around his dick and took him deep into my throat in a single swallow. I tasted his precome, bitter and sweet, and licked the delectable flavor off, my mouth awash with it.
“Oh, Sam, yes,” Ford moaned, and I felt his thighs trembling under my palms.
After I had made his most sensitive skin wet all over, I began to really blow him with all my might. I bobbed up and down so fast and hard a neck injury was definitely ahead of me in the near future. Yet I couldn’t stop. Not with the fiery-red haze of the cupid’s arrow burning inside of me, demanding me to surrender and give the rush my all.
I dug my fingers into Ford’s hips and buttocks to keep him in place as I sucked his cock. I felt like I was starving, and his meat was right there. I was dying of thirst, and his juices kept death and darkness at bay. I shivered within from a cold I could not define, and his warmth was blazing before me, a source of light and life and heat.
I needed his sex to live.
Then Ford grabbed me fiercely under my arms and pulled me up on my feet. I was sort of aware I was growling and fighting back, but he stopped me—only to shove my jeans down in one swift motion and free my dick. I sighed with relief I had not known I needed.
I didn’t care where Ford got the packet of lube, but next thing I knew there was a cool substance coating my erection as he rubbed it on me. Then he swiveled around and braced himself against the stall wall. I took hold of his hips and watched as my slicked cock slipped between his round, firm ass cheeks and slid past his twitching hole over and over.
“Sam, please.” Ford’s voice was nothing but a choked outcry.
I shook all over, my skin tingling in anticipation.
I inched one finger inside his tight, hot channel to open him up, but he swayed his butt in protest, grunting. “Don’t need any more prep. Do it, Sam. Do it!”
And I did.
I thrust my cock inside Ford’s ass in one motion, and he screamed in pleasure.
His muscles clamped down on me, strangling the life out of me, and I was practically yelling. Far in the background of my haze, I heard other noises like mine join in. The orgies went on outside too.
But then Ford relaxed, and he shoved his ass back at me, hard, demanding me to take him. It was my pleasure. I pulled out and pushed back in. The slip in and slide out made the hairs on my nape rise up, like a lightning bolt had struck me. I became an animal rutting in heat, desperate to get off—with him.
There was no slow, sensuous glide toward the peak of pleasure. No, there was only the yearning that burned in my veins and the quick rush toward the inevitable climax.
There were no words to describe the feverish urgency of the mating.
I felt Ford’s skin, sweaty and hot and shivering, beneath my fingers. His breathing was shallow and forced, and he was making sharp, keening noises. His palm landed on my thigh, his mere touch inciting me to go on. I could barely stand, my knees about to give out, but I snaked my hand below his waist to his erect dick and began to tug adamantly.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Ford shouted out hoarsely.
Funny how that raspy comment was all I needed in the end.
My orgasm washed over me, tearing through me and taking me for a ride on the crest of the wave. I shouted out loud, deafening myself. I spilled my load inside Ford, the involuntary jerks propelling me to continue until I had spent every last drop. My hand on his cock stuttered, but by then he was coming too, and wet, sticky heat covered my hand. The smell of fresh spunk filled my nostrils, and as I collapsed on top of his back, I couldn’t focus on anything else.
Panting helplessly, I waited out the afterglow. I had nothing more to give. I doubted I could’ve lifted a finger.
Then his hand came to rest on mine that still grasped at his now flaccid cock and freed my numb, clenched fingers from around him.
“Sorry, babe,” I mumbled, my gravelly voice all but gone.
A breathless burst of laughter came from him, and my cock slipped out of him. “I’m not hurt, love. It’s all good.”
On wobbly feet I straightened myself, releasing him. “Jesus….” I honestly couldn’t remember when I had been this rough on him during sex. I had a flood of apologies on the tip of my tongue.
As if anticipating me, he hushed me by turning around and gently kissing my lips. His were swollen from my harsh love bites. “I love you, Sam. Every time I think I couldn’t possibly love you any more or my heart would explode, you prove me wrong.”
The relief that swamped me at that moment made me all teary-eyed, and I didn’t care. I embraced him, shaken to the core. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, with his sweaty hair tickling me moistly, the smell filling my nostrils. I felt his body against mine, as solid and powerful as ever. Yet he had given in to me and let me pound the shit out of him. He trusted me not to hurt him, and I was grateful I hadn’t.
“I love you, Ford. So fucking much.” It was just a whisper, but he heard me. And more importantly, he understood me. His arms tightened around me, as did mine with him.
After a few minutes, or it could have been longer, we were brought out of our shared intimacy by the rattling of the mall speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, the cupids have dispersed. The police and paramedics are on their way. Please, stay where you are and remain calm. No charges will be filed for any property damage or vandalism, and all injuries will be taken care of. Once again, stay where you are and remain calm.”
As the crackling sound system died down, I felt Ford shaking.
For a second I was worried, but then I heard his muffled giggles, and I had to join in. This was our world now that the Veil had been lifted.
What a freaking mess.
Journal Entry 9, the Chance Case: Coming Down From the High
“HOW are you feeling?” Ford asked me when we got home. I knew he was referring to the head injury from the beating I had gotten and not the horny, primitive, near-violent mating we had experienced as a result of the cupids.
The cupids were fairy folk from ancient times, and their ethereal arrows were laced with potent pheromones and addictive aphrodisiacs. So far, there was no known counteragent. And whoever you were watching at the time was the object of your adulation for the next hour or so. The news usually gave out warnings of recent sightings of cupids, but sometimes the flying imps just came out of the blue, blew in under the radar.
“I’m fine.” I brushed the back of my head. I felt the bump there, and there was a minor ache as I touched it, but it was gone the moment I moved my fingers away. “I don’t know exactly how that happened—”
“How you got hit?” Ford sounded serious and incredulous, and with every right too.
I snorted halfheartedly. “No. I remember that. A couple of professional enforcer types knocking me about, ordering me to lay off the Chance case. I meant I don’t know why I was hurt at first, and then I wasn’t. I feel fine.”
He harrumphed as he escorted me to the bathroom. “Stand still. I’m going to check you out.”
“A full physical?” I asked, getting frisky again.
Ford laughed. “God, you’re incorrigible and insatiable.” But he didn’t push my hands away as I began to unbutton his shirt, although quite a few of the buttons were now missing.
Though I wasn’t bleeding from the back of my head or my busted lip (I hadn’t even noticed it when kissing Ford) or my left cheekbone where I had been hit. It was as if I hadn’t been in a fight at all, though technically I hadn’t done any of the work involved, consigned to being a mere punching bag.
Nonetheless, Ford made sure all my bumps and bruises were tended to before he let me get up from the toilet seat. He sighed then, rueful. “I swear, Sam, this job of yours was supposed to be a meal ticket, not a first-class ticket to the emergency room.”
“Oh, come on, Ford,” I deflected and downplayed the whole thing. “It’s not like this happens to me a lot. It’s the first time since I started—”
“Fourth.”
“What? No way, man.”
“Yes, way.” His chin jutted stubbornly. “The Pierson case? The bar fight?”
“Hey, I didn’t start it. It was just a surveillance job gone awry. How was I to know he was a mean drunk with an indiscriminate taste for bar brawling? Anyway, that wasn’t my fault, and it’s not like I got any permanent—”
“What about the Adderley investigation?”
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Ford. That woman was high, and those were bitch slaps she doled out. I’ve been mauled worse by cats. That doesn’t count.”
“And the Wyatt case? Hmm?” Ford crossed his arms over his chest, a surefire tell he was as serious as he got.
“Aw, Ford…. The guy came at me from nowhere. I’m not a fortune-teller. How could I have possibly known he was gonna ram me and throw me out the window into the bay? I mean, hell, I landed in water, and the cops got him for assault. I’m fine, babe. I’m fine.”
This time it was me trying to assure him it was all good, the way he had said before. But that had been the afterglow talking, and now Ford had had the time to really think about it. Seeing his blue eyes mist and his jaw quiver while he kept his posture rigid and his shoulders squared hurt my heart and my conscience.
“Ford, you know I love you. Just because you’re making good money, I can’t just sit on my ass all day and do nothing. I know how to be a cop. I can do this. Those guys aren’t going to get the drop on me again, I promise.”
Ford shook his head, gave a halfhearted snort, and looked anywhere but at me. “And the next time? The next case? The next thugs who decide you shouldn’t poke your nose into other people’s business?”
That gave me pause. Ford was truly afraid for me. I was devastated at the thought of causing him suffering with my choices. “Okay, Ford. Okay. I’ll talk to the lawyer tomorrow, and I’ll drop the case. It’s fine.” I went to him with the intention of pulling him in my arms.
But he backed off, looking mortified and sad and angry. “God, Sam. I don’t want you to do that. You’re committed to this. And I want those thugs to pay for what they did to you. If I know you, and I do, you’ve got an idea about what’s going on already.”
He wasn’t way off on that one.
“I won’t cause you heartbreak….”
Ford smiled then, brightly as the sun. “We’ll always be together, Sam. In this world or the next. We’re bound by forces beyond our imaginings. You won’t ever break my heart.” He wound his arms around my shoulders, letting me in, and his forehead touched mine. “Don’t let go of the case, Sam. If Mo Chance was murdered, the world should know. Just… be careful.” Then he kissed me softly, and I knew my place in the world.
“Okay, babe. I’ll stay with the case. But I swear I will do all that I can to ensure—”
“I know, Sam.” He kissed me again, and our row ended on a pleasant note. Then he pushed me off, laughing. “Go do your thing, hot stuff.” He swatted my behind on the way out.
I laughed with him, and my battered face didn’t hurt one damn bit.
Later that evening, after hours of reading and research, I had learned a lot more about the Chance case. Or more specifically, about Mo’s personality.
I’d read most of the books Mo had kept in his playroom—in addition to having perfect recall and being ambidextrous, I was also a speed-reader, as I’ve said before—and it was obvious Mo had been interested in every little thing under the sun. His wealth of knowledge about sciences across the board, society at large, and literature from erotic romances to the classics was astounding.
His library consisted of classics like Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front, Shelley’s Frankenstein, the entire literary works of Mark Twain, Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dumas, Kipling, Verne, Dickens and so on. My eyes were beginning to get crossed and glazed over. His scientific interests were cutting edge: from astrophysics to robotics, from sociology to psychology, from mathematics to chemistry, from economics to pyrometallurgy, from politics to paleontology. Mo had even written papers on several topics, and his reputation was considered legitimate.
