by Hooke, Isaac
For the next two minutes he had to keep telling party-goers the seats across from him in the booth were taken, until finally Gwen returned. She acted as a crutch for Abigail, whose arm was slung across Gwen’s neck and shoulders.
“She drank a little bit too much,” Gwen explained when they arrived.
“Definitely can’t hold her alcohol,” Malem commented. “Time to go.” He finished the last of the grout, emptying his jug and the one Gwen had left behind, and then stood up to help bolster Abigail’s other shoulder. Her breath smelled of vomit.
“Potatoes don’t taste so good the second time round,” Abigail commented as the pair led her toward the door.
“No, I’ll bet they don’t,” he agreed.
Malem accessed the rooftop owl’s eyes and confirmed that there was no ambush waiting outside the inn.
As he and Gwen led Abigail outside, he realized the grout was beginning to hit him, too, now. He had a slight wobble to his step.
Damn it. If we’re attacked now, we’re screwed. No fire mage. No weapons. And only one of us not piss drunk.
He suddenly erupted in a raucous laugh.
But it sure would be funny!
“Shit, you’re drunk, too?” Gwen said.
He began to hum drunkenly, a catchy bawdy tune he’d heard in a tavern somewhere.
“Wait, the weapons!” Gwen tugged backward.
“Hey, you’ll split me in half!” Abigail slurred, caught in the middle between Gwen and Malem.
“Weapons? Oh yeah.” He backtracked to the alleyway and lowered Abigail to the cobblestone to retrieve his sword and dagger from the rooftop eave. He knew the weapons hadn’t been filched, of course: the owl had the weapons in view from its perch, and he’d instructed the night bird to alert him if anyone tried to take their stash.
He was able to secure the dagger relatively easily to his ankle sheath, but he had some difficulty with the sword scabbard. Finally Gwen helped him, and he got it done. Then he reached underneath Abigail’s shoulder and helped Gwen carry her once more.
“Maybe I should carry her on my own,” Gwen commented when he stumbled and nearly tripped.
“No, no,” he said. “Loose stone in the cobble. Caught me by surprise.”
The city guard was out in full force tonight, as they often were in the party and red light districts of Northern Redbridge, especially on weekends. He drunkenly saluted one of the guards, who eyed him with disgust.
“Stop it,” Gwen hissed. “Do you want to get charged with public drunkenness?”
“Sorry,” he said. Then began giggling uncontrollable. “They’re going to arrest me!”
For some reason that seemed the funniest thing in the world. He had experienced a few arrests in the past, of course, and they were far from funny.
Malem stopped humming halfway to the inn, and he sobered up during the final leg. He hadn’t really imbibed all that much, when it came to it. A good thing, too, because the city guard presence was beginning to thin out. The soldiers concentrated on the rowdier sections of the red light district; this area was relatively quiet at night. He still spotted at least one guard every block, though, which was good. Still, he felt like he’d be able to handle himself well enough if it became necessary to fight. At least long enough for more guard reinforcements to arrive.
He wouldn’t be able to rely on Abigail for backup, however: she remained completely hammered. He suspected fire mages just didn’t have the constitution for drinking. It doused their inner flame or something.
He had the presence of mind to check ahead with the owl, to confirm that the roadway in front of the inn remained clear. And when he finally arrived at The Rutting Cat, he recalled the second owl from the tavern to stand guard at the inn with the first. He reached out with his mind and confirmed that Bounder and Felipe were still where he expected them to be.
An old woman was on duty behind the main counter in the common room, and she returned Malem’s nod of greeting with a scowl.
He escorted Abigail and Gwen up the stairs to their room. Gwen fumbled with the key in the dimly lit hallway, and once they were inside, they led Abigail to the bed, and she dropped down heavily. She closed her eyes and her breathing changed almost instantly: fast asleep.
“She sure snores loudly,” he told Gwen. “Have fun getting some sleep tonight.”
He left her and made his way back down to the stable, using the connecting door in the common room. When he reached the stall that housed Bounder and Felipe, he peered over the gate and saw the pair sleeping amiably, snuggled against one another.
He didn’t have the heart to interrupt them, so he slid down on the floor, and propped his back against the gate. He lowered his hood and adjusted the collar so that he could easily withdraw the sword from the scabbard on his back.
He noticed motion to his right, at the entrance to the stable. Someone had followed him.
He glanced that way, ready to draw his sword, but it was only Gwen, standing at the common room entrance.
“Well hello, little bird,” he said softly, not wanting to wake the boarding animals.
She closed the door behind her and came inside. She paused next to the stall that housed Neeme and peered inside for a moment. She smiled fleetingly, then sat beside him in the dim light, and leaned against the gate.
“I won’t be able to sleep, not with that racket.” She spoke in a hushed voice, like him.
He gave her an appraising look. “I thought I smelled and needed a bath?”
She grinned. “You get used to the stench. Besides, this is the stable. The horses are doing a pretty good job of masking your smell.”
He chuckled quietly. “Gee, thanks.”
He turned away and stared at the gate of the stall across from him. He could hear the horse beyond, breathing in and out. He could sense its mind, this energetic bundle of dormant thoughts and emotions, as well as the minds of the other horses, and his own animals.
He listened to the night air. He could hear the crickets, and the occasional raucous cry from somewhere out in the street. Insects, and humans, two beings he could not sense. Not that he wanted to. Having the ability to perceive bugs and people would ruin his ability to sense animals entirely: there were just so many of them out there.
He considered seducing Gwen, but decided he wasn’t in the mood. He just didn’t feel like putting in the effort tonight. She was ready to go in the bar, and then that damned bandit had to show up. He’d already forgotten her name. What was it? Xanax or something?
He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the gate behind him.
And then he felt a hand on his knee, on top of the fabric of his robe. He looked down and saw Gwen’s palm; she had removed her glove. While he didn’t quite feel like seducing her, if she was going to offer herself to him flat out, he wasn’t about to say no…
He looked at her face. Her eyes were wet with tears.
“Help me forget,” she told him. “I want to forget.”
And so he helped her.
He took off his robe, and opened up his pants, then he grabbed her bare hand in his, and guided it between his legs.
“This should help you forget,” he said.
She shoved her hand violently inside, and he flinched when she gripped him.
He leaned forward, but before his lips could touch hers, she was pressing her mouth against his. So hungry. He returned her kiss with equal passion, matching her mouth movements with his own. She released him a moment to wet her fingers, and then once more her hand went down.
He moaned.
“You stink so bad,” she said between kisses. “But I don’t care.”
“You know how to turn me the fuck on,” he said.
She squeezed tighter.
In only a few short moments, the two of them were naked, and they did it right there on the stable floor. They managed to keep their grunts and moans to a minimum so that only a few of the closest horses stirred.
He was about thirty
seconds away from climaxing when he felt Gwen again with his mind. At first he didn’t know what was happening... his urgent need for release blocked out everything.
But then he felt the growing sexual energy emanating from her, this vibrant, pulsating bundle of pleasure outside of himself, writhing with barely constrained passion, nearly overwhelming his own. It was the strangest feeling. And hot as hell.
He slowed his physical pace as he explored that bundle of thoughts and emotions with his mind. He couldn’t help but wrap the fingers of his will around it. He wanted to grab that pleasure, add it to his own, make it a part of himself. When he squeezed, he expected her mind to slip away from his, as it had done the last time. He expected his tenuous connection with her to boomerang in his face.
But incredibly, this time his grip remained firm. Her mind didn’t break free.
Instead, it surrendered to him.
She moaned.
He began thrusting harder than ever, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching entirely inside that bundle, intertwining his mind with hers, joining their two pleasure centers into one single cohesive unit. His eyes involuntarily rolled toward the back of his skull, and he found his release at the same time as hers; because their minds were linked, the effect was magnified tenfold. It was like a feedback loop. Her pleasure fed his, and his fed hers, and back and forth it went. He could do nothing as convulsions wracked his body. Underneath him, she fared little better.
Finally he collapsed on top of her, panting, feeling utterly spent.
“What the hell was that?” she whispered between gasps.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he was taking stock of himself in confusion. Something had changed deep inside. He was linked to Gwen, yet he still remained connected to the two owls on the rooftop, which wasn’t possible. He had a limit of two animals at once.
She’s not an animal, he reminded himself. Half monster. She was half monster.
His connection to her also felt different than the other two. More permanent, like the strand connecting him to her could never break. As the moments passed and he recovered, he began to feel strangely invigorated, as if her innate strength and endurance had been added to his own.
There was something else in addition to that link. When he operated at capacity, and used the two mental slots reserved for animals, it often felt as if his mind was squeezing against some invisible barrier. But that barrier had lifted, or at least increased in size, because though he held the owls, and now Gwen, he didn’t sense the barrier anymore, not at all. His mind must have expanded, that was the only explanation.
Can I control more than two animals now?
Without releasing the owls, or Gwen, he reached out experimentally and wrapped his will around all seven horses that were in the stable, including Neeme.
It was only a halfhearted test, because he didn’t expect it to work. Calming an animal of that size was one thing, but taking direct and total control? Normally, he had to physically subdue a horse beforehand because of the stronger wills those animals possessed. And to attempt seven at once was pure lunacy, but this new feeling of power inside of him was intoxicating. By flexing his mental muscles so, at least he would quickly learn what his limits were.
As he wrapped his will around all seven horses at once, those among them that were slumbering awakened. All of the animals began to dance nervously in their stalls, and some neighed loudly.
Gwen glanced around, worried. Probably about Neeme.
To his surprise, Malem was able to tighten his will around four of the seven horses with ease. The mental bundles didn’t slip away, and his grip remained firm, unremitting. It did drain him, however, when he tied the mental knots of his will in place, and he slumped slightly against Gwen. Even with his newfound stamina he felt the fatigue. Gwen also seemed suddenly tired, because her head bobbed, and she had trouble keeping her eyes open.
The horses had the same ephemeral-seeming connections as the owls, not the solid link that joined him to the woman at his side.
He was knocking against his mental limit once more… he could sense the barrier, pressing down just above him, constraining him once more. He tried to press past it and seize the three remaining horses, but he couldn’t break through. So he had six beast slots in total, then, versus his two original. Or seven, if counting the half-gobling woman.
How?
But he already knew.
I should have seduced a monster woman years ago.
He released the horses and his stamina bounced back, his mind free of the mental exertions necessary to keep so many animals in check. He knew the mental tax would lessen as he practiced, just as it had when he accustomed himself to controlling two animals at once all those years ago. Of course, assuming he kept all of these new slots when he released Gwen from his will.
And he would release her, he told himself. Very soon.
Maybe I can convince her to allow our minds to remain entwined like this?
He chuckled inside. Unlikely.
Gwen, whose physical and mental fortitude seemed linked to his own now, opened her eyes widely now that he had released the horses. She gave him a confused look.
He couldn’t help the excited smile that formed.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he told her.
13
Now that Malem had released them, the animals fidgeted nervously in their stalls once again, and he sent out a calming vibe. It usually didn’t work on so many at once, especially when not under his direct control, but to his pleasant surprise, all of the horses settled.
“Believe what?” Gwen said angrily.
He began to feel rage himself, no doubt as a consequence of their tight bond. He glanced at her and sent the same tranquil vibe through their mental link.
It worked, to a degree.
That made him wonder...
Could he actually control Gwen?
He focused on the bundle of energy that represented her in his mind. It was easy, because hers was the strongest of the three currently within his will.
She stiffened suddenly.
“What did you do?” she hissed.
Scratch your cheek with your right index finger, he commanded.
“No!” she shrieked. The anger flared up again.
He flexed his will. It was like trying to bend a glowing hot piece of iron with his bare hands: it burned his fingers, but the bar slowly bent.
He heard her voice in his head then, clear as day: Piss off!
She reached up and scratched her cheek. With her right index finger.
Interesting.
“What did you do?” she repeated, gulping for air. She physically wrenched her body away from him, and her naked breasts flopped about distractedly.
He quickly averted his eyes. “I don’t know. We’re... mentally linked. I, uh, broke you. Accidentally, of course.”
“Accidentally?” she said. “How can you Break someone accidentally? I felt you in my head during sex. It felt good though, so I didn’t try to stop you. I thought you were just trying to enhance my pleasure. You weren’t supposed to do this.”
She paused, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t push you out. No matter how hard I try.” She looked at him and demanded: “Let me go.”
“Okay, okay,” he said.
“Do it, or I’m going to get as far away from you as I can!” she said.
“But our link lets me control more animals,” he said. “It—”
“That’s it.” She was fumbling through his clothing on the stable floor. Probably looking for his dagger, since she had neglected to bring any weapons herself.
So much for convincing her to let him keep their connection.
“Okay, I’m releasing you now,” he said.
She ignored him and continued to search through his clothes.
“You might want to stop that,” he said. “I can’t concentrate with you fidgeting about. And if you’re looking for the dagger, here you go.” He reac
hed down beside him, where he had stowed his two weapons, and tossed the sheathed dagger her way.
She caught it, and then scowled at him.
He homed in on her bundle inside of his head and tried to unwrap his will from her psyche, as he would have done to an ordinary animal, but he couldn’t release her, though he strove with all his mental effort. It was like trying to slough a thick glob of mud from one’s hands by flicking the palm alone. He couldn’t extricate his will from hers: their minds were inexorably tangled.
He was, however, able to distance their emotions from one another, so he no longer felt the full extent of her anger. But that was it.
“I… I can’t do it,” he said.
“What do you mean, you can’t do it?” she said.
“I’ve never formed a bond like this before,” he said. “I don’t know how to let you go. I don’t think I even can. It’s like… our minds are permanently entwined, somehow. During sex, the mind downgrades to a more primitive state. Mental barriers are relaxed: you lowered your guard. I couldn’t help myself from latching on to the pleasure I felt. It was like you were spreading your legs before me, inviting me inside. I accepted the invitation.”
“I—” she began angrily. Then she lowered her gaze. “I did invite you inside. When the pleasure began, I didn’t stop you. I wanted more of it.”
He nodded. “It’s similar to when I physically subdue a stronger willed animal. Eventually, they just stop fighting, and I can take control. The difference is, I can always release them. You, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I suppose, if the sex is mind-blowing like that, it’s something I can endure,” she said. “But keep your will where it is right now… distant. And no controlling. I’m going to fight you every step of the way otherwise.”
“I promise I won’t control you,” he said. “You’re a person, not an animal to bend to my will. Of course, if you ever step out of line...”
She glared at him.
He raised his hands. “Just kidding! Seriously, it’s a struggle with you fighting me every step of the way. If I tried to do anything more than make you scratch your face, I’d probably burn myself out.”
