by Randi Darren
Tiffany had an extraordinarily strong mind, and apparently that was from her presence of spirit. Most souls would have already been pulled through their gate before they knew they could even fight it.
Tiffany’s spirit seemed unperturbed.
“Good to see you, Tiffany,” Sam said, startling what was essentially Tiffany’s ghost. She backed up several feet, partially fading from view. Then she slowly returned to visibility. “All good?”
“Yes,” came the rasping whisper from Tiffany. He’d expected her to just nod her head. “I died. Right?”
Very strong, if she can make herself heard.
“Yeah. You died. Jes is fixing your body right now,” Sam said, pointing to the corpse. Its head was actually growing back right now. “I’ll make your hair grow a bit afterward, just so you’re not bald.”
“Thank you,” came the breathy hiss from the spirit.
“Okay, I’m done,” Jes said. “Now what?”
Turning her head, the Succubus found Tiffany’s spirit between her and Sam. “Oh, hey Tiff. Can you just… come get back in your body?”
Grimacing, the spirit moved over to her very bald, eyebrow less and eyelash less self.
“You’ll make it grow?” Tiffany asked, turning back to Sam. “My hair?”
“Yes, now get in. We need to go,” Sam said.
Tiffany winced, then sank into her body.
With a sudden gasp, Tiffany’s eyes flew open. Her whole body heaved.
Choking, Tiffany coughed twice, then took in a deep breath.
“Oh fuck, that’s awful,” she said in a gasp. “It tastes like rot.”
“What, dying? I can imagine it being awful, yes,” Sam said. “As for the rot. You weren’t breathing for a while.”
“No. I mean yeah,” Tiffany said, taking in another deep gasp. “Pretty sure I shit myself. I think I peed too. Damnit. I’m just a puddle of nasty.”
Oh.
True. Corpses do that.
Tiffany took in another deep breath that didn’t seem as strained as the previous one. Grimacing, she started to lever herself up off the ground. “My panties are full of cum, shit, and piss. I’m a goddamn dumpster.”
“Dead bodies tend to do that. Shit themselves, that is,” Wren said, echoing Sam’s own thought. She got down next to the witch. Without any tenderness, Wren picked the witch up by her neck and dragged her into the duffel bag. “Glad you’re not dead. Good to see Jes and Sam can do what they said.”
Wren paused to punch Irene in the side with enough force to make the woman’s body actually bend around the blow, and there was a soft crack of bone breaking.
“I’m just going to kill her when we’re done,” Wren said, zipping up the bag. “If you were actually dead, I was going to make it last for days.”
“Yeah, well,” Tiffany said, patting at herself. “Alive and well. Just… very… disgusting. Can I get a shower? Do we have time?”
Not really, but—
“If I can at least get a chance to change clothes, then you can have a quickie, Sam,” Tiffany said, getting up to her feet. “Let me shower and change, and I’ll play the lucky girl in the middle for you and Jes.”
“Go change,” Sam said.
“Take a shower,” Jes said almost at the same time.
Twenty-Two - Too Much -
Wren dropped the hooded witch into Stacia’s bathtub.
“At least Stacia’s tub is big. Good for draining. I’ll get some paracord after this to string her up with.
“I feel like we do a lot of wet work, and we’ll do more,” Wren said, pulling a knife out. She’d stripped down the moment they’d gotten back, out of everything except a tank top, pants, and her belt and holster.
“Definitely is starting to feel that way,” Sam said, leaning up against the bathroom doorway. “I sense a ‘we should’ or a ‘but’ coming.”
Wren bent over, giving Sam wonderful view of her athletic rear end.
Speaking of butts…
Wren seemed completely unaware of Sam eying her as she worked at cutting all of the witch’s clothes off.
“You and Jes are planar lords—maybe we could look into a pig farm, or just a big pit?” Wren asked, slicing off the woman’s pants. “Jes just shoved that dead Vampire through into her plane after we were done with her, but we might as well make it work for us while keeping it clean. Might need that plane later, and no one wants to have to deal with a body after it goes to black.”
“Not a bad idea. We can definitely look into that,” Sam said. He did appreciate ideas. Ideas weren’t limited to one person or area.
So far, they’d almost all been from Stacia and Irma.
Thinking of the Imp, Sam immediately felt weird.
He didn’t like being away from her, he realized. Didn’t like it, and he was looking forward to this being over—not because he felt like he was losing out on the deal, but because he just wanted to lounge around in his apartment or Irma’s.
“She’s awake, by the way,” Wren said. “She’s just pretending.”
“Is she?” Sam asked. He’d been watching for her soul. It’d slipped into her body and hidden itself away once they’d loaded the witch into the SUV. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of it.
Wren grunted and finished stripping the woman. The witch wasn’t amazingly put together like Irma or Jes, but she was definitely attractive and would turn a head.
Once she was completely naked, Wren bundled up the torn clothes and put them in a trash bag she’d brought with her. She pulled the bag shut and tossed it to out the door into the adjoining hallway.
Looking at the witch, Wren seemed to be contemplating something.
“Hey. You can be awake, or I can punch you, cut you, or brand you awake,” Wren said.
“I’m awake,” said the hooded witch immediately. Her voice was higher pitched and honestly sounded rather nice to Sam. “I’m awake, I’m awake. No… no need to do anything.”
Wren snorted and then stood up, looking down at Sam. “All yours, boss.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, looking at the big Cambion standing there in a tank top. “After-lunch snack later?”
Not responding immediately, Wren seemed to be contemplating his words. Then she gave him a wide, bright smile. “Just you and me? An actual bed and not the floor like back at the house?”
“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod. “You and me. Guest bed.”
“Yeah. I’d like that,” Wren said. Then she left the room, taking a sniff of her own armpit. “I’ll go shower. Showering after a mission always helps me shed it.”
How lovely. Having a willing feed harem is a blessing.
Looking back to the witch, he found just the top of the soul’s head peeking out of her bare chest.
Raising an eyebrow at it, Sam waited.
“Hello?” asked the witch.
Hmm? That’s curious.
“Oh?” Sam asked. “I thought for sure you could see what your soul saw. How’d you know we were there? Back in the house, that is. I thought we were rather well hidden.”
“What? My soul? What are you talking about? And who are you?” asked Irene the witch.
“Your soul. It’s not… inside of you,” Sam said, coming over to sit down on the toilet next to the bathtub. “I can actually see it. You’re telling me you’re not aware of it?”
“My soul…? I… no. But that might make sense. Actually, it makes a lot of sense, I guess,” Irene said.
“How’d you know where the Were and I were?” Sam asked, pressing. “You killed her before you even saw her.”
“I just… felt you there,” Irene said, her voice sounding less confident by the second. “I felt you and her there and knew you were there.”
“Huh,” Sam said. “Your soul isn’t in you, and it can help you, but you weren’t aware of it. Nor of how you knew things.
“I’m betting your telepathy is the same. Do you have to see them?”
“I… no. Seeing definitely helps. But I just hav
e to focus on it and will it,” Irene said.
Sam watched as the soul practically appeared on top of him, staring hard into his eyes. He could feel it scratching at his mind.
Except he was the planar lord Sameerixis. He’d faced down demons of abandon, ladies of the abyss, and even the armies of hell and heaven.
A soul, no matter how strong, wasn’t going to penetrate his thoughts.
Instead, he lifted a finger and stuck it into the soul, then hooked his digit into it.
The soul writhed against him, beating at him to get away from his single finger that had her held.
“I see,” Sam said. “I suppose that makes sense. A few more curiosity questions if you don’t mind?”
“I’m… apparently not going anywhere,” Irene said, shifting around in the tub a little and giving Sam a show. “That kind of hurts, whatever you’re doing. If I don’t try to read your mind again, could you please… stop? Is it my soul? Are you attacking it?”
“Mm. I have it hooked; I’m not hurting it. It’ll keep me company for the time being,” Sam said. Reaching up, he took the soul into both hands and laid it down over his knees. Resting one hand on its back, he stuck his elbow down on its ass and put his chin in his palm. “Were you born like this?”
“If… if I answer your questions… will you let me go?” Irene asked.
“No. To be honest, it’s very likely I’ll let my Vampire drain you and then dump your body,” Sam said. “If you’re especially good, I’ll make sure you’re unconscious for the draining.”
“You can try,” Irene said, her arms flexing. “I’m immortal. If you let me go, I’ll pretend none of this happened.”
“Immortal, hm? Tell me about that and I’ll consider it,” Sam said.
“Not much to tell. I’m immortal,” Irene said. “I was human; a witch cursed me and made me immortal. I bashed her head in at the same time.
“And before you ask, yes, that’s also where I learned to cast magic. I found her driver’s license and went to her house. Took a little while, but I figured it out.
“Now. Let me go, and I’ll forget this happened.”
Sam chuckled at that, sinking his fingers into the soul on his lap.
“Last question, and then I’ll pluck your soul out and toss it onto my plane. Maybe she and I can have some fun later,” Sam said.
Irene quivered even as her soul thrashed and writhed against him.
“Alison. Did you tell anyone about her? She’s all I’m actually concerned with,” Sam said, digging his fingers ever deeper into the soul.
Irene groaned, her body hunching into itself. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m going to pull the center out of your soul,” Sam said, his fingers brushing against something that felt incredibly warm. “Don’t worry—once it happens, it’ll be like a light switch being hit.”
“Stop, no,” Irene said. “Stop. Stop. I can help, I can be useful I can—”
“No thanks. I already got suckered by a Were in a bathtub, not going to happen again,” Sam said, and he closed his hands around that hot core. “Got enough help right now. More than I can eat, really. Thanks, though.
“Last chance. Tell me about Alison, or I feed you to the vampire and then pull your soul out.”
Irene shook her head, her breath clearly caught in her throat.
“Useful how?” Jes asked from behind him.
Growling, Sam looked behind him to find Jes watching from the doorway.
“Not now, Jes,” Sam said. He wasn’t in the mood for this. He just wanted to kill the witch and be done with it, then go home.
“Yes, now,” Jes said, walking over. She laid her hand down on his shoulder and smiled down at him. “For me, Sam? Just let me talk to her. I need more mercenaries, remember? She could be useful to me.”
Frowning, Sam kept a tight lid on his frustration. Because he honestly couldn’t identify why he was so annoyed. It wasn’t really like him.
“I know. You want to go home. She killed Tiffany. And you’re happy with what and where you are,” Jes said. “But I’m not. And neither is Irma. We want more. But for you as well as ourselves. So just… let me talk to her. And if I don’t like the talk, you kill her.”
Sighing, Sam let his eyes fall to the ground.
“It’s okay, Sam,” Jes said, her fingers sliding through his hair. “I’ll personally take great care of you after this. No feeding, just… fun. Okay?”
Oddly, that sounded even better to Sam than eating Wren.
What’s wrong with me?
Slowly, Sam opened his hand and released the core of Irene’s soul.
Taking a massive, gasping breath, Irene coughed twice.
“I’m very useful. I thought I was immortal, but apparently I’m just really hard to kill. I’m a witch, and I know everything going on in Saint Anthony,” Irene said. She didn’t sound nervous, defeated, or even broken.
Impressive will for someone who just had her soul manhandled.
Sam curled his fingers slightly, running his fingertips along Irene’s core.
The soul in his lap flashed a pink color while trembling, then lay motionless against Sam’s lap.
Shivering from head to toe, Irene moaned deeply. It sounded surprisingly sexual.
Well, that’s curious. Seems if you play with a core rather than crush it, it can go the other way.
I’ve apparently been doing this wrong the whole time.
“I-I-I really do,” Irene said, her voice sounding breathy.
“I’m a mercenary commander and a Succubus,” Jes said, looking at Sam curiously. She’d been watching when he started fondling the soul.
Jes pointed at the soul and nodded her head at it.
Again, hm? Alright.
Sam began to slowly and delicately stroke Irene’s core. The soul in his lap trembled and squirmed, but it didn’t pull away from him.
Irene began to pant softly, soft moans slipping free as she clearly tried to fight what was being done to her.
Sam stopped, looking at Irene with a grin.
I wonder if I can feed on an orgasm like this.
“I want to hire you as a mercenary and sex object,” Jes said. “You’ll service myself and my mate and partner, Sam, as needed. At all other times you’ll be part of the mercenary team.
“Our goal is to hit people who can’t go to the police about it. Make lots of money and earn a good life. I offer a salary, benefits, and some planar-lord contract benefits such as actual immortality and eternal youth.”
“Sex… sex object?” Irene asked.
“That’s right. Sam and I feed on orgasms. You’d be used to that end. We’d do our best to get you to the most explosive orgasm possible. Repeatedly. Often. Your sex life would be amazing,” Jes said. “Make no mistake on that. We’ve already dined on most of the team three or four times together in the last week. Sam’s privately eaten from them each at least seven times today. I think.”
“More like nine,” Sam said with a shrug.
“And the alternative is be drained and have my soul pulled,” Irene said.
“That’s right. So, care to join my team?” Jes asked.
“Does the team have a name? How long have you been operating?” Irene asked.
“Inc-Suc,” Jes said with a laugh. “Incubus-Succubus that is. You’d be the little dash between us. It’s appropriate. Especially the name. Be sure to suck your Incubus, Irene.
“As for how long… about a week or two? We’re new, but we’re learning quickly. We already took out everyone from Marin and down her chain of command. Now you.”
“Marin really is dead?” Irene asked.
“Oh yes. Stacia drained her like those little milk cartons at school. We robbed her, of course,” Jes said.
“I… I’d like to talk over the details some more, but I agree,” Irene said.
“Great! Hold still while I brand you. Everyone is wearing my brand or Sam’s, but really we’re all under Sam. Since my brand will eventually j
ust feed into his,” Jes said, leaning over the tub. She began to dig into Irene’s chest with a fingertip.
Wincing, Irene shifted, the bag moving up as she lifted her chin.
“While you’re getting your orientation, I suppose,” Sam said with a checked sigh, “how about you tell me who you report to in Saint Anthony and if they know about Alison.”
“No one knows about Alison. I only did because Marin was an idiot,” Irene said. “She was trying to get me to help her out. I was waiting to hear from the hitman.”
“Hitman isn’t a concern. She works for us now,” Jes said, her finger branding Irene’s flesh.
“Is that what happened to her? Alright,” Irene said. “Wait… and the Were pack?”
“Tiffany works for us as well,” Jes said. “We dispersed the pack and stole much of the weaponry.”
“You really did infiltrate and start taking apart my operation,” Irene muttered.
“Indeed. You were the last stop on our way up, hopefully. And now that we know Alison went no higher, we’re all done here,” Jes said. “Now it’s just for pleasure. Know any good places to rob from your organization?”
“I… yes, of course,” Irene said, and then flinched as Jes made a curling motion with her finger, the brand wider in that particular spot. “We just have to worry about the council. They run everything here in Saint Anthony. They’d also be the best people to rob. Most people don’t know about them, though. They think it’s just a giant Vampire coven.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect,” Jes said, then patted the brand once she’d finished. “There, you’re all mine now. Do keep in mind, though, that everything of mine is Sam’s. We’re working on merging our planes completely. I’m his Succubus, and he’s my Incubus.”
Sam rolled his eyes at that but didn’t argue with her. She wasn’t wrong, and he’d found he didn’t dislike the idea as much as he originally had.
Jes did well by him, and there was something magical in having sex without feeding on her.
He wanted to try it with Irma.
Jes grabbed the hood and pulled it off her head.
Irene blinked twice, looking from Jes to Sam.
“Oh… oh. I… see. You really are both hot as hell,” Irene said, looking from Sam to Jes and back again.
