by Aaron Crash
Which she owned. Nan Honeysweet was her Knowing golem and her cover. Why, Ymir didn’t know, but even Della Pennez spoke of the Fayee and their enterprises with a certain amount of awe.
Ymir rubbed his face. Dealing with both the Veil Tear Ring and the fairy candy seller had made him feel dirty. In some ways, those two things felt worse than the idea that his assassin was probably still on campus and waiting for another opportunity to kill him.
As he made his way up through the Sea Stair Market, he was thinking of what he’d learned—about Ziziva, the xoca bean deals she was making with the merfolk, and his own profit margins. The Sunfire torches were flickering on in the twilight.
Outside of the Unicorn’s Uht, with tankards of ale in their hands, were Darisbeau Cujan and Nellybelle Tucker. Odd Corry and Roger the Viscount must be inside with the rest of the Swamp Coast girls.
Ymir ignored Daris. He fixed a glare on Nellybelle’s face. He walked up to her, while Darisbeau stood back, smirking.
He didn’t say a word, just stared, and Nelly stared back, too stupid or too scared to talk.
Ymir smiled. “I find it ironic.”
“What’s that?” the woman asked in a choked voice.
“I find it ironic that professors have a way of coming to Old Ironbound and dying. When I got here, I heard rumors it was the scholars that wound up cold.” He nodded at her.
Then he walked away.
He heard their whispers. Daris, Nelly, and their ilk hadn’t made a serious attempt on his life, but they would. It would be amusing to have such piss-poor enemies after what he and his princesses had already overcome.
At the top of the steps, which ended at the Flow courtyard, he turned and walked to Jenny’s suite and his home. There, the lingering scent of perfume filled the dampened air, moist from the shower. Jennybelle was in a rush, trying to find the right thing to wear. She was loud, happy, and full of life.
Sunfire candles glittered. The fireplace was cold. It was warm enough outside they didn’t need to worry about heating the suite anymore.
Lillee was in a white-gold dress, just a shade darker than her platinum-colored hair. It hugged her hips and ass and was tight enough that her thick nipples showed through. The outfit was positively indecent and would have the stuck-up Ohlyrran professors shaking their heads all summer long—the Sullied elf wasn’t following their stupid rules. The elf girl was freer than ever with herself. He was glad to see the cuff on her left arm, though, or they’d never get out of apartment. They’d spend the entire Summernight Festival in bed.
Lillee stood in the bathroom, at the mirror, putting on a little makeup she didn’t need. The cosmetics were gifts from Jenny, who still had money. Her aunt had tried to kill her, but the Josentown princess hadn’t been cut off yet.
Tori was sitting on the couch, drinking sparkling wine and laughing. At what, he didn’t know, but the little woman was as cheery as ever. She was in a green dress with lots of lace, and she’d put away her normal big work boots for something sleeker and with a higher heel. Her red hair was braided perfectly. She didn’t have makeup on, and yet, her lips were red, her cheeks flushed, and her nose sprinkled with her cute freckles. Her green eyes shone a little too brightly. If she wasn’t drunk, she was close to it.
Jenny came out of the bedroom in her pannee but with her big breasts hanging out—wide areolae and little nipples. She had a dress in either hand, one green, another golden. “I can’t fucking decide! Ymir, would you be a dear and tell me which one you like? Should I match Tori or Lillee? I’ve been trying to split the difference, but I can’t decide.”
“I’m wise enough to know that whatever I say you’ll disagree with.” Ymir walked over to the kitchen area, found himself the bottle of wine, and frowned. They had wine bottles, but not beer yet, and he’d have to change that. Brewing and bottling his own beer, with a bit of magic thrown in, would be a great business. He could add a little charm to make people cheerful or chatty.
The Princept was right. The xocalati business would only get him so far.
“Ymir!” Jenny complained. “I need help.”
“I’d go with that blue dress that brings out your eyes,” he said.
“Ugh, ain’t that just some shit under my shoe?” She rolled those striking blue eyes. “You didn’t listen. I want to match one of our girls.”
“My girls,” Ymir said, and he poured himself some sparkling wine. It was too sweet and bubbly for him.
Lillee popped her head out of the bathroom to give him a warm look. “Your princesses.”
He nodded. “Two princesses and the cleverest, prettiest little dwab to ever embezzle ingredients for the world’s best xocalati.” He’d have to tell her about Ziziva’s clockwork grandmother, but not that night. They would have all summer long to talk business.
Tori snorted. “Who says I’m not a princess? You’re looking at the thane of Ruby Stonehold’s oldest little baby daughter. I’m the ugly one, it’s true, but I’m a gosh-me-underground princess all the same. And who said anything about embezzling?”
“I thought stealing might be a bit too harsh,” Ymir said. “You are doctoring the books in the kitchen so we can get cream, vanilla, beet sprinkles, and our other ingredients, am I right?”
She shook her head. “Bless my stone bits, but that would be so dishonest, Mr. Man. I told you people I was rich—ugly but rich. I couldn’t tell you I was financing your operation. You’d never allow it. But, ha, the joke’s on you because I totally was. Now, Ymir, you big hunk of an Inconvenience Partner you, how come stealing is just all right but charity for your business isn’t?”
Jenny stood with the green dress in her hand. The fabric was just blue enough to work with her eyes. The swamp woman’s mouth fell open. “A princess of the Ruby Stonehold? That’s not just rich, that’s stupid amounts of money.”
Tori shook her head. She was drunk after all, and willing to talk. “Oh, now, you females better not treat me any different than you normally do. I’m just one of Ymir’s princesses now. You overtoppers sure lose your cake over a little money.”
Lillee again poked her head out. She blinked at Ymir. Even she was impressed.
Jenny sputtered. “But you, you, you work. You live with a dozen other girls in that big rambling Moons apartment, and I won’t talk about how much of a mess that place is. The Zoo, that’s what they call it, and you live with Ribrib. She’s a nightmare. Why don’t you kick her out? Why don’t you hire a housekeeper?”
Tori frowned. “It’s a mess, all right. I try to get those girls to clean, but our resident mermaid is the worst. I guess sea caves are self-cleaning. And yes, Ribrib isn’t the easiest person to get along with, but I figured she’s just homesick. If you put me in the ocean for months on end, I’d be sad too.”
Ymir’s attention was immediately piqued. Ribrib was a mermaid? This was an interesting turn of events.
The little woman sipped her wine and giggled. “Just because I’m rich doesn’t mean I don’t want to live life to the fullest. Why else am I hanging out with you poor people? And you’re not even Morbuskor. Gotta say. Kinda gross.” She laughed far too much at what she’d just said. She sobered. “I think back to how I treated you back then—you, Lillee, and me running from Ymir. I was jealous, and I was intimidated, and sad about my fate. Just goes to show, you don’t know what’s inside the rock until you tunnel right through it.”
Lillee came out, a spectacle of grace and beauty. “I think the sex helped.”
“It did,” Tori whispered. “Lillee, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. Oh, thank you.” The little woman got to her feet. She spilled her wine but was too drunk to notice.
She staggered and fell against the elf girl, wrapping her thick arms around Lillee’s slim body. Tori had her face buried in the soft gown covering Lillee’s belly. “Oh, thank you for being my first Inconvenience Partner here. And being sweet to me. And just thank you, Lillee. Thank you.”
Lillee held the little woman. The elf gi
rl’s eyes were closed, and a peaceful look relaxed her beautiful face.
Jenny put on the green dress and sidled up next to Ymir. Her hand found his.
“Good choice,” he said in a low voice.
Tori then backed up, drew Lillee over, and forced them into a group hug. With the dwab at the center. “I’ve been rich, and I’ve been lonely, and I’ve made myself happy, and gosh, the money helps, but it’s not everything. This, here, with your love...this is happiness.” And the little woman broke down completely in sobs.
Jenny bent and kissed Tori’s red hair. She then turned and looked into Ymir’s eyes. Tears pooled in the blue heaven of Jennybelle Josen’s eyes.
He couldn’t help but kiss his Jenny. Then they got Tori onto the couch and gave her a handkerchief so she could wipe her tears and take care of her sniffles.
Lillee sat with her.
Jenny, finally, was ready to go. Good. Ymir’s stomach was growling. He couldn’t wait to stuff himself at the feast.
Ymir had the door open, waiting to let his princesses pass—all three of his princesses. He’d have to get more of the fire-headed dwab’s story. This was monumental news and could very well change everything.
Tori stopped, blinking, and a hand went to her breast. A blush colored her face, her mouth opened, and she started to breathe heavily. “Oh, Ymir. I think...I think it’s happening. I’m sorry, guys, but my Inconvenience is on. I...I can’t help it.”
Lillee gave Ymir a heated smile and slipped off her essess.
Jenny exhaled good-naturedly. “Well, they don’t call it an Inconvenience for nothing.”
Ymir closed the door and started to take off his shirt. He’d get to eat eventually. First, he had a little business to take care of.
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Looking for more from Aaron Crash, and need it right this minute? Check out: Raider Annihilation (Son of Fire Book 1). Or keep reading to take a sneak peek.
HE’S NO ANGEL, BUT He’s Got Everything She Needs
He was minding his own business on Earth when a beautiful sorceress summoned him to defend a backwater village from demonic raiders. He’s lost his gun, his family, and even his name, but it’s not the first fight he’s been in, and it won’t be the last.
The sorceress isn’t happy—she expected an ancient goddess of war. Instead, she got some random guy who’s halfway decent with a sword. But there’s more to him than good looks and a big stick, and if he can harness this new world’s magic, the town of Foulwater might just be glad he stuck around.
First, though, he’ll have to get a busty elf buccaneer to sober up, sail through monster-infested waters, kick a bunch of lava monsters in the face, and plunder the submerged basement of a demon king. It’s a race against time before the raiders return to burn down the village, and their deadliest enemy might already be inside the walls.
Disclaimer: Raider Annihilation is a steamy isekai harem adventure like no other. Our hero isn't shy and neither are the women of Caranja. There is sex on the page, swearing, smoking, drug use, and goat-milk beer. Enter a spicy new world from Aaron Crash, the bestselling author of the American Dragon series and The Princesses of the Ironbound.
Chapter One
BEFORE THE TORMENT, I smelled coffee.
I had been with friends and family, in a nice house with a fireplace, a big kitchen, and a ton of smiling faces. I remembered the light in the windows, the warm mug in my fist, and the weight of a friend’s hand on my shoulder. We were talking about something important, and he was worried about me. Why? I couldn’t remember.
I made it clear that worry wasn’t our friend. A wise man once told me that worrying was not preparation. He also told me something else, rather strange.
Agony was your friend.
Not only did it tell you that something was very, very wrong, it also focused you like nothing else. You couldn’t be bored if you were in excruciating pain. You couldn’t contemplate your own mortality. You couldn’t worry about how much Taco Bell you were eating. You couldn’t worry. Period. Pain reduced life to only one sensation, and that made things very, very simple.
Normally.
First coffee, then pain.
I was in blinding anguish, and that anguish did things to me. If pain is weakness leaving the body, I was going to emerge the Incredible fucking Hulk. It felt like someone had surgically removed my internal organs and pounded them flat with a ten-pound sledgehammer. Sprinkle with battery acid. Bake at three hundred and fifty degrees for forty-five minutes. Then? My insides were shoved back into my body along with a dozen live scorpions dipped in habanero juice.
My mind was reduced to nacho cheese.
A woman chanted words, over and over, in a language I didn’t know. There was a flash of light. Then?
I could understand her words. The agony subsided, though I still felt as dizzy as a dervish and twice as nauseated. I had no idea who I was, where I was, or what my name might be.
Cold stones lay under my hands. A high wind whistled above me. I smelled the ocean.
Pushing myself up onto my knees, I blinked the sweat out of my eyes. I was in jeans and a red hoodie. I knelt in the world’s worst-maintained courtyard, weeds growing from cracked and scattered pavers. I stared down at a woman’s sandaled feet.
She was standing over me, a woman with a definite Egyptian vibe about her. It was the haircut, very Cleopatra; her skin was dusky and smooth. Those sandals also had a classic feel to them, rough leather that wrapped around her shapely calves up to her knees. Yes, shapely, and I was liking the thigh I followed up under her ivory-colored tunic.
What the hell is a tunic? I was a twenty-first-century guy, and fashion wasn’t my thing. I wasn’t a hair stylist either. I thought she might have bangs, though I didn’t really know what bangs were. Brits call them a fringe. That didn’t help.
She wore a gold circlet fashioned out of interlocking golden rings. And she wasn’t happy. Her light brown eyes, nearly gold, flashed with enough fury that I thought she might Spartan kick me with her classic footwear and shapely calves. Or she could beat me to death with the butt end of her big fork. The spear was wrapped in leather, and weathered, with two long points. It wasn’t a trident. More of a duodent? Was that a thing? Across her back was a net. Weights hung off the webbing.
I was still sweating, dizzy, and just glad not to be in intestine-shredding pain. And I still couldn’t remember my name—just thinking about it sent more sharp pain through my raw belly.
I looked away from Princess Forks-a-lot—she hadn’t said a word so far, and she didn’t look like she was in the right headspace for conversation. I took a second to try and figure out where I was. It wasn’t a courtyard after all, but the ruins of a circular building, overgrown and left to the elements. An empty fountain was off to the side, and it hadn’t seen water in a long, long time. Statues stood in alcoves around an altar under a collapsed roof. That was how I could see the sky. And hear the wind.
“You don’t have wings!” the Cleopatra cosplayer
shrieked. She hauled me to my feet, which was kind of comical because I outweighed her by a hundred pounds and was taller by a good six inches. Yet, she was strong. Under her tunic, she had definite X-Fit muscles. X-Fit was CrossFit’s little brother, the next generation of high-intensity training.
Ha! I knew what X-Fit was. I wasn’t completely useless. Now, if I could only master the name thing.
“Should I have wings?” I was smirking, though I knew any kind of wise-ass smile around a pissed-off woman was a bad, bad thing. Whoever I was, I had that bit of wisdom going for me.
“What is that accent? What are you wearing? Who are you?” she said, shaking me by the hoodie. “You’re not Lalindra Namenri! You’re not a mighty winged warrior! We needed a warrior! You look useless!”
Glancing around, I noticed I was standing in the middle of a circle chalked on the stones, with intersecting lines that led to candles and inscriptions on the border of the summoning area. The massive tattoo on the woman’s left arm was still glowing with a silver light. I think that was the light I’d seen. I’d definitely heard her voice.
She tried to slap me, but I saw it coming. I grabbed her arm and got in her face. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you don’t get to hit me. Ever. And I don’t know what my accent is because I’m speaking a language I don’t know.”
Weird. Somehow, I could understand this woman, and she could understand me. The words formed in my head as English and changed into whatever she was speaking.
She shoved me away and twirled her duodent. No, that wasn’t right—a bident—she had a bident.
Bells rang out, not happy bells, but the panicked gongs of alarm.
“Fool! The Kankar are minutes from our walls.” She frowned. “Do you know how to fight?”
