Nine Swords

Balam wrote: ↑Wed Jun 30, 2021 5:45 am I don't mind at all -- not really? I've written things here and there, but I've never had the courage to go for something bigger.

If something on a larger scale appeals to you, and if writing gives you a kick, I'd definitely say go for it. I think you've got talent, and I've read a lot of work [15 years of study ]

Evris entered the Basement through the side staff entrance, meandering along in Kara’s wake like a bodyguard trailing a royal. It wasn’t too far off, given her status in the Fae courts, but his friend took it to new heights. She had skipped wearing normal clothes, claiming she didn’t want to ruin the look, and strutted into the club clad in thin underwear Evris had painted over. She looked like a fish man, like an alien monster from some ridiculous water world from the tip of her ensorcelled hair to the shark-sharp teeth painted over her full lips.

It was iconic and alluring but Evris didn’t have it in him to fall a little in love with his artwork as he normally did. The thoughts that Theo might be back in New York didn’t bode well for the city. Things had been so silent for months and now this. Now…

His steps faltered as the sound of hunting horns ran through his mind, not from hearing them but remembering them; where had he come across them lately?

His stumble carried him the last few steps into the staff rooms behind the main club; as he caught himself on the lintel he cursed his conflicting heritages for making him clumsy now of all times.

“What the fuck?”

The voice didn’t belong to Little Meow Meow or the man Evris had met earlier. It was a little higher but no less forceful; when he looked up to identify the owner he felt his heart squeeze in two.

Tall, taller than Kara and almost as tall as himself, the man had dark messy hair raked open over a wonderful forehead, a face that suggested a bunny ever so slightly and a body that looked as if it worked out religiously. Like this, with his shirt half on as he changed clothes, Evris could see the faint shadows of tattoos swirling up his abs, arms and chest, and suddenly he ached to make them better.

He could, he could take the faded human art and make it something special, he could…

Focus.

“DJ Seagull?” Kara asked dubiously. “Artemis’ new protégé? Are you even old enough to drink legally at a club, kid?”

The guy yanked his shirt down and gave them both a scathing look. “This is a staff area. You can’t just come in here for fucking kicks, you midget, even if you have a pretty banging paintjob. Get out before I throw you out.”

Even Evris knew it was precisely the wrong thing to say. Kara was a little touchy about her lack of height; some days it didn’t matter that power practically oozed out of her pores as long as someone even hinted she might be short. He watched his friend bristle at Hotness, spotted the amusement in Jacob Chwe’s heterochromic gaze, and pushed off to stop Kara from kicking his prey in the ankle.

“Sean.” The voice did little more than ripple out of a dark corner, but Evris heard the ‘Down boy’ in it as Artemis stepped from the shadows.

It was as if a light switch flicked in Kara. “Artemis!” she called happily, abandoning her irritation to mosey over to Artemis’ side. As the elder mumbled a greeting she circled to drape arms across his shoulders and stuck her tongue out at ‘Sean’ from behind his boss.

“Everyone is legal,” Artemis said tiredly. “Kara, Evris, this is Sean Breathnach. You’ve met Jacob?”

“We’ve met,” Jacob murmured, sliding on a pair of blue earphones to sink into his own world with a small, tucked-away smile.

Sean snorted before his gaze transferred to Evris. The irritation smoothed from his features, but his stare remained as forceful and his forehead crinkled a little. Rather ironically his ears coloured as well, turning a soft pink at Evris’ slow smile. “Hi,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

“Sean,” Evris murmured. “I like that.”

Sean’s ears coloured even more. “Whatever, I gotta start my set,” he muttered as he stomped from the room.

Cassandra carefully wiped at the corners of her lips, adjusting her collar with a small, fussy gesture as her meal walked carefully out the door. She considered the blood lingering on the back of her palate and fought not to frown.

For all the trouble her personal assistant had had to source a willing individual with RH Null blood in America, it still tasted common and crass; bland, almost, with none of the variety she normally preferred. “Marie,” she dictated to the AI that ran the tower. “I will not be needing any more from that particular type of donor.”

“As you wish, my Prince,” the mellifluous female voice said. “Your next appointment is in an hour…”

“Thank you, acknowledged,” Cassandra said as she crossed to the nearest mirror to straighten her suit with little gestures. “The Illuminati representative, correct?” Marie kept her schedule like others bred animals, both highly regimented and painstakingly meticulous; some days she felt like a show pony in truth.

A whisper on the balcony caught her attention. It was a soft, slow sound, a caress of material on worked stone, but there was a timbre to it that she knew of old. It was soft, old leather working against something sturdy, and the sense-memory it evoked shuddered through her along with confusion.

The sound had been deliberate, the owner certainly didn’t make noise as he walked but here? Now?

She wandered to the open French doors onto the balcony without the fear that she might be mistaken. No intrepid thief or daring bee would dare attack so high up, and her reputation kept most of the supernatural ones at bay.

No, the only person that would have… coming to a halt, she canted her head to the side and smiled at the strong figure sitting insouciantly on the balcony’s edge. She spent a moment looking at him, just taking in the length of him before wandering closer. Sinew and corded muscle and features older than the pack he ran with, with eyes that did not show color but stars instead, an innumerable sparkling pinpricks in darkness.

Dangerous eyes – he had looked on the Sleepers beyond the horizon, and had been strong enough to survive and come back. He bore many names, but there was a smile as well – for her, at least.

“Theo,” she murmured, and tilted her cheek for a cool kiss. “I thought you were going to be out of town for longer. That business in the Schwarzwald?”

Theo turned his small smile into a wider, beaming one, flashing excellent teeth just a tad too sharp. Not for the first time, Cassandra wondered what he had been at his start: ascended bee? Fae? Some older form of menace, like a jinn guttered out and made flesh? His current body, as dancer-strong and wonderful as it was, was a mere glamour over the larger reality of the strange man.

Cassandra smirked as a long-ago memory sparked. It was said that only his people knew the reality of him behind the mask, and that it was the litmus test for being in the Hunt. If you could understand the leader’s being, survive it, then you were in.

“Cassa,” Theo said smoothly as he slipped off the balcony. His fingertips quested, found the silky lapel of Cassandra’s suit jacket, and tangled in it. “You know I go where business calls me. You look good, as living as ever.”

“Theo,” Cassandra said, smiling despite herself. “Why are you here? We always have trouble when you’re in my city.”

Theo gave a step closer and leant into her. Very slowly, very softly his lips found Cassandra’s jawline, travelling up it as he inhaled. “Hmmmm.” The sound was a deep, dark purr. “You smell of growing things and life, Cassa, have you been feeding on our dear Druid again?”

Cassandra inhaled shakily as the Leader of the Hunt delicately bit at her earlobe, body surrendering its position as Theo slowly crowded her back, all the way back, until her hips found the stone railing. It was a thrill; very few people were strong enough to do that to her even if she felt like allowing it. Vampires grew stronger over the years, and she had seen a lot of years.

“He’s still angry at you, you know,” she murmured as her eyes closed at the shiver of pleasure that ran down her spine. “It’ll be difficult to convince him to take you back into his bed.”

Theo pulled away, eyes night-dark with the creature inside him swimming close to his glamour’s limits. “No,” he murmured softly, hands lifting from the railing to settle on Cassandra’s hips. There was a bite to his fingers, but innate sweetness as well. “No, it won’t.”

No, Cassandra was forced to agree shakily in her mind as the hands persuaded her around, pointed her into the direction of the tower apartment. Holy shit, no, it won’t. We’re both too weak for you, Theo.

Theo laughed as if he could hear that thought. “Cassa,” he said out of the blue. “Cassa, I’m going to have to borrow some money from you. You won’t mind, do you?”

Cassandra fought to keep up. “What? I… no, I don’t…”

“Because I’m sure I’m going to get a parking ticket, you look that fine.”

Time slowed to a golden moment as Cassandra blinked, tried to internalize that. She heard the crash of stationary as she started laughing, mirth curling up from deep inside her being. Her back thumped against her desk and her jacket was off before she could stop laughing at the ludicrous pickup line, the sheer cheerful insanity it had been delivered with. “Theo, oh my fucking god…”

“Don’t call on the gods, sweetness, they’re no friends of ours,” Theo soothed, looking proud at the effect of his hideous pickup line. “You’ve got the best mouth in the world, you should laugh with it more often.” His hands lowered to Cassandra’s belt, tugging it open with a few practiced moves.

“Theo, oh my god,” Cassandra groaned, still trapped between laughter and the slow, cascading increase of lust pooling through her body as the talented hands slipped her shoes and skirt off. “Why are you here? Surely this isn't just for fun.”

Theo paused to give her a cool look before his eyes travelled down her body, large hands parting her thighs after slipping her underwear down. “Beyond the obvious? I had a vision,” he admitted. “Out towards Montauk Point. Someone’s been messing around with ritual magic. There are bodies in the sand, buried deep, but the gods can hear their calls for revenge.”

Cassandra shuddered, unsure whether it was from fear or sheer lust at the fingertips caressing up and down her knees to open her legs wider. “Not one of my people,” she begged. “Please tell me it’s not one of my people being that stupid.”

Leaning in to press a delicate kiss against one long, milky thigh, Theo smiled slowly. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted easily. “But you know what awaits them. Quiet. Let me admire you.”

“You’ve got the best mouth in the world, you should laugh with it more often.”

Great line.

Are you writing to detailed outline and structure, or are you a non-planner?

Keep going!