Mixing assassins and child care; what could go wrong?
In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.
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“Lying is fine, but take care to not cause suffering because that makes it wrong.”
Keys jingled and Timothy walked through the door.
"Mr. Denver," Nikita got off before I could make introductions.
"Oh, you must be the cop," Timothy snorted.
"Does Cáel have so many we are labelled by profession?" her suspicious nature flared up.
"Nah. Unlike Gomer here," was he calling me a hick?
"I'm New York born and bred. I know a police issued Beretta in a hip holster even under a jacket. Also, the next time Cáel calls me Mr. Denver will be the first," Timothy chuckled. "If it's any consolation, I can see why he's risking grave bodily injury by going out with you."
"Does he think I'll shoot him if I catch him screwing around behind my back?" she asked pleasantly.
"Pretty much," Timothy winked at me.
"Good boy," she patted my cheek.
"Ah, the prospect of imminent pain reminds me; Timothy, I need two more favors," I begged.
"This is going to be good," Timothy replied sarcastically.
"I've got four girls lined up for Saturday night; three high society children and Nikita here. Is this okay, or do I need to take this somewhere else?" I began.
"This the nine year old?" he questioned.
"Aya and her two sisters," I replied.
"Sure. Every Park Avenue babe should get to meet a gay tattoo artist from Queens once in their life before Prom," Timothy nodded sagely. "The other thing."
"Yeah; could you double-date with me. There is this school teacher who rooms with her older sister. The sister came through a nasty breakup recently and the teacher asked me if I could help out," I tried to sound upbeat.
"Wow; I don't know what to say," Timothy's mouth gaped. "I don't know what's dumber; asking your gay roommate to distract his fuck-mates sister so he doesn't end up screwing them both, or requesting this in front of the cop you are almost dating?"
"Wah; huh; what he said; that last part," Nikita glared at me.
"Hey, now," I warded her off. "There's barely a week of school left. Then she'll get a summer job and I won't be taking the kids to school anymore and that will be that."
"You are sleeping with a teacher at the school your girls attend?" she gasped. "Why?"
"She's hot," I declared. Nikita looked shocked. "I mean really hot. Not as gorgeous as you, but she's very attractive."
Don't think I'd lost my damn mind. I had, in fact, learned something over four years of being far hornier than smart. See, when a girl thinks you are true blue and you cheat, you are a scumbag. If a girl thinks you've slept around and now you are hers and hers alone, you cheating still makes you dirt, but that is ameliorated by the deep-seated fear that she did something wrong.
If you are openly a man-whore when you start dating, you can cheat. She thinks she's weaning you off your promiscuous ways. This toleration is not limitless, so be warned. Make every indiscretion count. Eventually she will give up and dump you. Refer to the break-up sex discussion earlier.
My mentor once asked me if one woman would ever be enough. I told her that I always thought one woman would be enough and I was always wrong. One of these days I hoped to meet a woman who could satisfy my sexual urges and could keep my balls in a vice to stop me from straying. Then I'd be happy.
"You need to stop that," Nikita threatened me. "My fiancé cheated on me. I'm not going to put up with it from you."
"I already promised them I'd go out at least once," I reasoned. "You wouldn't want me to treat you like that."
"I'm not them," she bit her lower lip. "This roving eye of yours has got to stop and soon." See; a license to cheat. I really liked Nikita and I wanted to make an effort to keep her happy. Somehow I could keep my libido under some kind of restraint; for 80 days. Then my co-workers at Havenstone would own me like their prison bitch, providing I was still alive.
"I'll do my best," I promised. We hugged and kissed. She wasn't gone thirty seconds when my phone rang. It was Odette. I told her to come on over so Timothy shot me with his Nerf gun.
"Cáel, consider having sex with me," Timothy teased.
"What? I'm not gay," I pouted.
"Oh, I know but you'll be dead soon so the sexual ambiguity won't be something you have to deal with for long," Timothy laughed.
"I'll put it on my bucket list," I sighed. "Double-dating with me?"
"Sure. It isn't like life with you has been dull," Timothy taunted me. I groaned.
(Friday)
"I have today off," Odette murmured to me as I cut off the alarm. That had to have been the issue she'd been holding back on last night.
"I have to work; being the first week of my three month internship and all," I sighed.
"Are you sure I can't convince you to be late?" she gave me a sultry look.
She compounded that offer by stretching out, her knees in place so that her ass rose and wiggled suggestively. Last night I had introduced Odette to a form of doggy-style that didn't involve the man trying to drive her skull through the headboard. We had a long, dual-participant, sensual melding of bodies, control passing back and forth until the need for sleep became something she despised even as it took her.
"Not fair," I groaned into my pillow. When I looked out, she was still giving me that sexually hungry look and wiggling that ass. Why do I even pretend that I can have a normal sex life? I found myself arriving late and changing in the elevator on the way to the Executive Services floor. The two women with me were a viewing gallery I could have done without.
Since I put everything on display; remember; no underwear; one of my two fellow travelers felt permitted to rub her hands along my abs while I was pulling my pants on.
"Goddess, he's hard," she moaned to her companion. "Come, have a feel." I didn't protest. Technically, stripping naked in a public place could get me fired.
"His back is very nicely defined," the other side as she ran her hands over my back and shoulders. "What is it that you do?"
"I'm with Executive Services," I replied. "Right now I'm suborned to Product Testing. I teach monkeys to ride unicycles." Their confused looks humored me.
"Actually, I'm with ES and I'm a gopher; I pick up stuff," I grinned.
"Oh; you are that guy from the elevator; the kneeling man," the first woman exclaimed. "They said you were funny. Goddess, our man sure is hot, but he is so dull."
"Let me guess; you are with the Financial Investigations Unit?" I said. Trent.
"Yes," she smiled. Orgy time. "He's just as good looking, but you are so much more fun. My sister can't wait for you to become available."
"Sister?" I prodded.
"Daphne Pale," she smiled suggestively yet again. My face lit up.
"Daphne?" I caught the lady off-guard by hugging her. "I think Daphne is great," I stepped back. "She's really nice to me. She's smart, gives good advice and treats me like I'm something more than a walking, breathing annoyance. What's your name?"
"Brielle," she informed me.
"Beautiful name," I remarked, as I went back to dressing.
"Do they let you see other women; besides those of ES?" the second woman questioned.
"I don't see any Havenstone women for 79 more days," I stated. "Corporate policy. After that, all requests for hunting licenses are submitted to Desiree; non-lethal weaponry only until I develop more refined survival skills."
Blink. Blink.
"You are joking, right?" Woman Two muttered.
"Nope. Katrina feels it will be a great third quarter kick-off. Let some women get out of the office for a weekend. Besides, I get to hunt those hunting me. I think it will be fun, don't you?" I hummed along.
"Desiree?" the second woman asked for clarification as she pulled out her phone. I nodded. The doors opened; my floor; so I stepped out and hustled to Katrina's office with only seconds to spare. The meeting was normal, right up until Dora adjusted my tie as we were exiting the office.
"Where did you dress? A closet with the lights out?" she teased.
"In the elevator on the way up," I confessed. "Daphne, I met your sister; Brielle," in case she had more than one. "She felt up my stomach and I made her laugh," I added.
"You let her touch you?" Tigger inquired.
"Cáel, did you come to work dressed like you normally do?" Daphne teased.
"Yep," sighed.
"So you were naked in the elevator," Violet snickered.
"Yep," I confirmed.
"You should be relocated for that," Fabiola sneered.
"Damn Fabiola, why do you; what would he be relocated for? Getting dressed?" Paula groaned.
"He was naked in front of an employee," Fabiola explained.
"Two actually," I clarified. "They both did touch my naked flesh. It was a bonding experience."
"Did you do any actual 'bonding'?" Dora winked.
"I hugged Brielle, but that was only because she was Daphne's sister and I'm not allowed to hug Daphne at this time," I answered.
"You can hug me; in a purely platonic way," Daphne murmured.
We were at Buffy's desk; I was working with her today.
"Okay," I nodded. I took a single stride to Daphne. She closed with me and I put my arms around her waist. Daphne put her hands on my shoulders. Our heads got closer and closer. I let my hands roam higher up her back and through her long locks.
Nose touched nose, I ran my hands through her hair until I tickled the back of her ears. Daphne's lips parted and her tongue played along the edges. I let my breath play along her cheeks as I worked to her left ear. I felt a sharp pain in my right ass.
"Ow!" I squalled; after I pulled away from Daphne's ear.
I tried to fully spin around, but Daphne wasn't letting go. I caught sight of a furious Buffy, small knife in hand, burning holes in me with her eyes.
"You stabbed me," I protested. Daphne had thought I was playing a cruel game with her. Now that the truth had come out, she's was pissed; with Buffy.
"Time you got to work, Intern," Buffy snapped.
"Did you have to stab him?" Daphne complained.
"Intern, don't you have some place you should be?" Buffy snarled at Daphne.
"Take care," Daphne tenderly stroked my cheek. It didn't take an Aeronautical Engineer to realize I was about to get poked again.
Daphne glared defiance at Buffy even as she retired. Buffy stabbed my left ass this time. I could have stopped her. What would have been the point? I didn't shout out. I manned up and shed a tear instead.
"Keep him in line, Buffy," Fabiola chortled. "He's been flashing women on the elevator."
"Fabiola, please appreciate the fact that I requested Cáel today. If I had you one more hour, I swore to Katrina they'd find your corpse in a Newark landfill," Buffy sneered. "Now scurry off to where you are assigned to be before my first order for Cáel this morning will be to carry your subdued and gagged body to the trunk of our car. I'll be doing the subduing."
Fabiola repositioned herself and said something in Old Kingdom Hittite.
"Your blood is the fecal matter of cats and dogs; unworthy of your station at arms."
Fabiola had this smug, superior look ruining her classically beautiful Italian features. Buffy was angry yet hampered by not being able to understand the insult. I scanned about.
"Tigger," I called out. She was the closest. She quickly gained visual permission by her trainer for the day and jogged to Buffy's area. "Tigger what does (dead word) mean?" I relayed Fabiola's insult, in Old Hittite, to Tigger. "Fabiola said it to Buffy and I think it is the same language she used on Tuesday."
"What did she say?" Buffy demanded.
"I cannot tell you, Buffy," Tigger bowed. "I promise I will convey these words to Katrina right now so that she may properly evaluate them." She sprinted off. Fabiola was worried; not so much she apologized, but worried.
Tigger came sprinting back a minute later. We were all supposed to get to work. Katrina would deal with this matter. Fabiola's smirk told me she was completely naïve about the shit-storm she'd unleashed. Off Buffy and I went. It was the child protection detail once more. There was the added bonus of having the security guards at the armory giving Buffy shit over not speaking Hittite; morons.
"We need to work on our pig Latin," I suggested to Buffy as we loaded the car.
"Huh?" Buffy's funk subsided somewhat.
"Do you speak any exotic languages, or do we invent one, because I'm sick of this secret language bullshit," I declared.
"I'm still furious with you," Buffy finally spoke. I filtered through a variety of insufficient responses and ended up sighing as I looked out the passenger window. I was my usual boisterous self during the pick-up and drop-off. I deftly evaded my 'teacher time' today so I was able to spend a few minutes with the Brazilian security hottie.
She didn't have a gym to work out in so I suggested we could meet at Havenstone and she could use their corporate facility with me. It was safe enough. Buffy kept up the silent treatment until lunchtime which left me pretty grim. At 12:15, Nikita gave me a call. She was on her lunch break and was making sure our two dates were still on.
It felt good to hear a friendly voice. I confirmed our engagements and she left me with a smile as she hung up. I noticed Buffy glaring at me again. I looked away.
"Which girlfriend was that?" she commented snidely.
"How is that work-related?" I didn't even look at her.
"I am telling you it is," she snapped back.
"Put my refusal in yet another one of your stunning job performance reviews you are going to give me," I stated calmly. I still wasn't looking at her.
"I will," she grumbled. I didn't respond. There was no point.
As we finished our cue, Buffy pulled me aside.
"What is wrong with you?" Buffy hissed quietly.
"If I've messed up any part of my assigned work, please make it aware of it," I stared back.
"Don't be a smart-ass," she seethed. "It isn't appealing."
"Since you haven't addressed any specific grievances, I'll do my best to randomly determine the source of your displeasure," I said. Had I not spoken in a voice devoid of emotion, it might have been taken as a joke. "You resent being treated like a random employee in the same manner I resent being treated as your property."
"Since you are convinced you have done nothing wrong and that I'm a jerk, I feel this conversation is at an end. Have a good weekend," I kept calm.
"You are a jerk. In 78 more days," she snarled.
"78 days; nothing. I can sleep with far more important women, Buffy," I let my countenance harden.
"The only reason I would have sex with you would be because I liked you. That would imply that you liked me too. You clearly don't like me, so I think we are done here," I explained.
"I say when we are done," she grabbed my elbow.
"Really?" I laughed in her face, "I'll see what Fabiola, or any of the new girls feel about that."
"Do you think they'll feel generous enough to give you the scraps off their table?" I mocked her. Buffy looked ready to stab me again. "You felt free in stabbing me this morning yet when Fabiola clearly insulted you, you did nothing. You aren't even courageous enough to fight for me, or treat me with dignity. Lacking any virtues, what would attract me to you over any of the others?"
"Who says you get to decide anything?" Buffy was breathing heavily now. Her problem was she was aroused, angry and being buried under the crushing weight of the truth. I wouldn't have total freedom. I knew that. I also knew that I would have some choice and certainly enough to deny a woman with Buffy's low status. The truth of that was in the anguish in Buffy's gaze.
Begging wasn't in her creed, especially not to a man. She couldn't apologize to me either. I hated myself at times.
"Buffy, I need to go," I tugged on my elbow. She let go. "Can I talk to you on the elevator ride down once I'm off the clock and can speak freely?"
"Yes," she looked down. I changed in Katrina's bathroom then made my exit with my fellow 'new hires', minus Fabiola whose absence was noted by all. The group mostly kept the conversation about work with some flavoring being applied in the form of weekend plans. When Buffy and Helena stepped in, I looped my right arm around Buffy and pulled her too me.
Buffy jolted in surprise, refraining from attacking me long enough to realize we were back in the corner we shared yesterday. I was back to the corner and she had her back to me. Putting my valise down allowed me to place my other arm around Buffy as well. The kiss I placed on the top of Buffy's head caught everyone off-guard.
My right hand came to rest on her left hip. The left crossed her body, pressing on her bosom from beneath. Repeated kisses fell upon her hair until the elevator reached the main floor.
"Apology accepted," Buffy turned in my arms so that we were facing. She placed each hand upon my jaw and tilted my head down. "Be more appreciative on Monday, or I won't let you off so easy next time."
As we parted company, the 'girls' gave me similar looks as I biked away. Things got worse immediately. Sitting on her ass next to my door was Odette; with a tote bag. She pushed up the wall and smiled broadly.
"I figured since we had the weekend free we could hang out," she beamed.
"Let's go inside," I offered. Keeping upbeat was key; a crying woman on my stoop would suck. As we entered the apartment and I was putting my bike aside, Odette made for the bedroom.
"Odette, we need to get something straight," I called out. She didn't stop. "I have a date with another women tonight." That did the trick.
"Did I do something wrong?" she gulped as she turned around and stared at me.
"What?" I feigned surprise. I've been here before. "No! Why would you think that? Odette, you are wonderful." I walked to her and she came into my arms. Pig. Dog. Take your pick.
"Why are you dumping me then?" Odette looked up, tears in her eyes.
"I thought you would be dumping me," I reversed things. "I'm the one not ready for commitment. I am afraid you have been far better for me than I've been for you."
"I don't want to let you go," she pleaded as her hug tightened.
"Wait. Odette, think about this. You deserve a guy who wants you and only you. I'm not that guy. I'm a serial dater. I can't help it," I complained on her behalf.
"That's okay," Odette mumbled. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Cáel Nyilas. You are a wonderful man, too. I'll wait around until you figure things out. I'll take what I can get while you look for your happiness." Odette wasn't weak, or stupid. She was a young lady, romantically alone and living in her parent's house.
I was exciting and different, the sex was great and it was a new experience to wake up in a foreign place, safe and warm. I had turned her phantasm dreams of a better life into a tangible reality even if she now had to morph her expectations. Adaptation wasn't failing. It was the reason human beings existed today. I feebly tried to break free.
"Odette; Honey, I can't," I explained. "I'm getting so hot for you right now. I don't want to;” Odette pressed a finger to my lips. She too was aroused. Yes, I had told a second girl that I was a slave to my cock and again, the woman had created a mental excuse that allowed her to stay with me despite my promised infidelity.
And I was about to have sex with her before going out on a date with the first girl I had confessed everything to. Should I 'oink', or is that 'bow-wow'?
"How long do we have?" Odette's voice turned molten with lust.
"An hour," I kissed her.
"That should be just enough time," she licked her kips then led me by the hand to the bedroom. Odette started out somewhat desperate. I cooled her down and instructed her in micromanaging intercourse. Doing the little things that targeted the erogenous zones of your partner instead of going straight for the sex.
In the afterglow, we cuddled together, Odette kissing my nipples and me nibbling on her ear; one of her hot spots.
"You are yummy," she sighed. "Delicious."
"Are you trying to distract me with your alluring words and dynamite body?" I sounded worried.
"Is it working?" she giggled.
"It will if I don't escape right now," I pleaded. She reluctantly let me slip away. Her eyes followed me around the room and out the door. A warm shower was nice, dressing in front of Odette was innocently refreshing and we ordered her some takeout.
Odette would stay the night; I gave Timothy a warning call; and I'd be back late. We'd have Saturday morning to spend together; my cobbled together plan would leave everyone happy, right? I headed out to my date with Nikita with high hopes. We met at an East Side theater, watched the movie with minimal conversation and exited hand in hand.
Nikita was coming around to my romantic approach. All I had to do was let her know I was dying to have sex with her in the same way she was dying to have sex with me. I was holding off because of my desire to get to know her, so she held back in order to be the 'better woman' and help me with my sexual issues; namely to have sex as much as possible.
We walked, talked about our schools growing up, colleges and her time at the Police Academy. Nikita and I ended up at this nice bar that served tasty comfort food and a good selection of alcoholic beverages. An hour and a half later, we left, both feeling tipsy. Nikita snuggled up against me, taking in my scent and warmth.
Our kisses were more intense that night, our desires more raw and evident and Nikita's craving for our contact to evolve was stronger than ever. We parted. I took a few steps then turned around. Sure enough, Nikita looked over her shoulder, smiled then kept walking. A few steps later, she looked back again. This time she stopped. We looked, then met each other half way and kissed some more.
The second separation was permanent. It was important that Nikita know I was fascinated with her. A more virtuous man might have been troubled with the fact that I was going to unload the sexual frustration I had hefted upon myself by dating Nikita onto Odette, but I'm not that guy. I did get a surprise when I came through the door.
Odette was on the sofa watching Kick-Ass 2, her head resting on Timothy's lap. Timothy was in the midst of impressing on her how delectable Morris Chestnut was when I came in.
"Hey Cáel, Ulyssa called. We are on for Sunday dinner at their place. A Yasmin Palhavã called as well. She's says you are on for Monday at 5:15 pm," Timothy smirked.
To add to the fun, Odette looked up at me and smiled.
"Timothy and I bonded over ice cream," she giggled. "He says you give such an unbelievably good dicking, women lose all common sense for days, even weeks afterwards. He says he's never seen anything like it before and he's jealous."
"You two are hilarious," I griped. "I'm going to the bathroom and masturbate. Then I'm going to bed; alone."
"No, you are not!" Odette declared. She hopped up and charged me. "You are sleeping with me tonight. I need to exercise these extra calories off." She was in her underwear, which I got a brief flash of as she left the sofa, and my old Mayhem Festival 2012 t-shirt.
Beyond her looking far sexier in it than I ever had (in my opinion), she was definitely ready to give me some 'makes him forget about all those other women' sex. I wrapped an arm around Odette and looked over my shoulder to tell Timothy goodnight. He was giving me the finger. Not only had he picked up a jealous lover after careful consideration, I apparently could carpet bomb the city and not hit a single woman willing to hold my philandering ways against me.
(Saturday)
Round nine; I thought it was round nine; was ended abruptly by Timothy dumping a pitcher full of ice down my back. Odette and I had meant to get some breakfast in the living room. We were eating some shredded wheat, some milk dripped down Odette's chin and I licked it off. If anyone doesn't think that's an open invitation for sex, you're nuts.
Anyway, we were face to face, me sitting on the sofa, Odette in my lap with a combination of her thighs and my hands helping her bob up on down on my cock while we battled tongues and checked that we hadn't sucked any of the other's fillings out yet. Timothy stumbled past in his normal morning pre-coffee haze, busied himself in the kitchen then came back with the aforementioned pitcher of ice.
I screamed and jump off the sofa. Odette squealed as I suddenly thrust deeper into her and stood up. Timothy was smirking, I was getting ready to scream at him and my phone went off in the bedroom. I gave Timothy a quick, angry flash because Odette needed my attention more. I took her to the bedroom, flopped us on the bed; me on top; and answered the phone while I fucked her.
"Cáel, Katrina wants you at 1105 Pomwell Avenue, Doebridge, Long Island," Buffy snapped. "What's that sound?"
"Its 8:20 in the freaking morning; what sound do you think it is?" I growled back. "What am I doing in Long Island?"
"Going where you are told." Buffy hung up before I could respond. I was righteously pissed. It was the freaking weekend and I had plans; which included three children, one hot cop and sex with Odette until noon. Now, at least one of those gems was being stolen away from me. Odette and I did finish round nine; I think it was nine; then I showered.
Odette offered to stay. I strongly suggested that she go home because I had no idea how long this chore would take. I was coaxing her out the door when suddenly Odette volunteered to help clean up the place, change the sheets and set up the air mattress; for the date that wasn't her. Timothy looked at me then shot himself with the Nerf gun in a futile display of utter disbelief in the power of my sexual charisma.
It wasn't like I even asked Odette for help. She volunteered. I made my way out the door with my bike. I went to Havenstone. I was checking out a car. There was no way I was paying for a taxi ride out to Long Island. Miracle of miracles, I was given a car without a séance and a full-body cavity search.
I suspected Buffy might have pre-ordered one for me, but anyone at Havenstone giving me a helping hand was so; unlike them. My onboard navigation system took me for a fifty minute drive away from the city and up along Long Island Sound. It turned out Doebridge was the Stepford Wives, sans the husbands.
I could now say I've been racial-profiled (my minority status being male). The first cops (both women) stopped me as I rolled into town. They suggested I might want to take an alternate route. I showed them my ID then said that I was here to investigate a case of poisoning involving Girl Scout cookies. They seemed worried. I then told them I was the food taster for the Queen.
They got pissed so I reminded them they shouldn't have stopped me in the first place. I wasn't speeding, or in a stolen vehicle. They pulled me out and asked to search my car. I told them it wouldn't be a problem but I had two attack midgets in the trunk, so they should be careful. Next thing I knew, I was handcuffed and they were on the phone to a ballistic Buffy.
"What is your problem?" she seethed quietly. She was 'somewhere'.
"I don't know. Maybe I was pulled over for unlawful use of facial hair, or not having a back-up supply of tampons," I groused. "Until Charlie's Angels pulled me out of the car, I swear my cock was behaving itself. For once, it wasn't at fault."
"If you were in front of me now, I'd kill you," Buffy promised.
"You do realize there is a cop standing in my personal space, right?" I brought up.
"It's okay, she's a woman who has talked to you. She'll understand," Buffy snapped. The policewoman's grin confirmed that supposition.
"You are too lucky," Buffy grumbled. "Hayden wants you here, so you escape once more, you cocksucker. Give the phone back to the policewoman." Sure enough, two minutes later I was on the road again. Six minutes after that, I was cuffed and pressed against a brick wall in scenic downtown Doebridge.
I didn't understand it. I swore to Buffy I had been polite. I had complimented both women on how pretty and professional they were. I even suggested we take turns strip-searching one another. I especially wanted to see them do it to each other while I watched. Buffy promised me I'd be a long time dying when I finally showed up. I reminded her she was too passionate.
Four minutes later I was in sight of my target; and pulled over again. This time I behaved well by anyone's standards. Why was I pulled over, I asked? They heard I was cute and wanted to take a look. I was frisked; by the both of them; again. I swear to God, if they had pulled out elbow-length gloves they were going to have to pistol-whip me first. They patted my ass and let me go.
The next hurdle was Havenstone Security itself. They scanned my ID. The second they called their supervisor, I started stripping down.
"What are you doing?" the supervisor asked.
"Lady, I've been searched three times since I entered this crazy town. Since you clearly won't take their word for it that I'm not smuggling anything, I see someone ramming their wrist up my rectum in the near future."
"Oh, that's not;” she got out then another guard pulled on her sleeve and winked. "Go ahead." I stripped, they had me spin around a few times. Then they patted me down and made triple sure my raging hard-on wasn't an artificial attachment packed with high explosives. On the second tour, Buffy called again wanting to know what was taking so long. I told her I was sightseeing but would be there soon. That's when they let me dress.
"What I meant to say was 'what are you doing dressed like that?" the supervisor stated.
"What do you mean?" I wondered.
"Why aren't you in business attire?" she clarified.
"Let me think about that," I pondered.
"Oh yeah, its freaking Saturday and no one told me what the hell was going on so I came dressed like it is freaking Saturday. I know most of you are home-schooled, but is reading a calendar really that hard?" I glared. "If this was a quiet cry for an early Christmas present, it worked. Can I go now?" I knew the look Security was giving me.
"If you slap me, prepared to get punched back. I'm not one of your Ken dolls," I warned them. "You'll gang up on me and win. Then you will get to tell Hayden why I'm not where she wants me to be."
"We'll get you on the way out," the supervisor menaced.
"That's right. How dare I act like I have a vagina?" I mocked her. I took a few steps past them before realizing I was missing something crucial. "Where am I supposed to go?" They took malevolent glee at my confusion. "All I am asking is for you to do your jobs," I groaned. They kept grinning.
"Fine, I'll wander about until some far less friendly, helpful and more heavily armed woman takes offense at my temerity to breathe the same air and kills me. Good job boys," were my parting words. The supervisor dispatched a guard to escort me into the complex. "So, do you date much?" I asked the guard a few seconds later.
"What? No," she sounded confused.
"Do you date girls?" I continued.
"No," she grumbled. "Not dating men does not make me a lesbian."
"You are right. Are you a transvestite?" I kept teasing her.
"No! What gave you that idea?" she gawked.
"I was thinking that if you are a tranny, that's really good work," I told her.
"I'm not a transvestite!" she insisted.
"Fine, will you go out with me then? You get even better looking when there is a fire in your eyes," I grinned.
"If I say 'yes' will you shut up?" she studied me intently.
"Of course. You can access my personnel records for my current work and home numbers. Give me a call sometime," I winked. I was SO going to fuck this woman. See, she had to get back at me for taunting her. She was going to punish me with sex and she was going to think it was all her idea.
Our path led to a massive indoor archery range. It had twenty lanes. Each lane was clearly marked out to 150 meters plus there was approximately 20 meters of back space where the observers and archers waiting their turn congregated. I recognized plenty of the women present. There were also three men; the other male new hires. The rest of us had made it through Week One.
The guys were all dressed in suits. Ah, some of the previous conversation made more sense. I had on a tight white t-shirt, comfortable jeans and docker shoes (essentially canvas tennis shoes). The women dressed in a similar style though not identically. Tight vests, bound breasts, short skirts and short boots. I quickly made out Katrina's clan. I had to slip past Fabiola's pack to get there.
Katrina was on the firing line. My attention was drawn to the archer next to her. It was Aya and she was having a rough time of it. Her Mom, Caitlyn, was calmly trying to instruct her yet each word out of her mouth seemed to make Aya more and more nervous. I was drawn to Aya emotionally. I felt compelled to do something even though reporting to Katrina and Hayden was the proper procedure to follow.
I spotted a large bowl of fruit in Katrina's backfield. A grapefruit was the proper tool for the moment. Target in hand, I approached Aya after her latest failure. She was about to cry.
"Hey, Aya," I called out. Multiple heads turned my way. The only person who didn't seem to notice I was under-dressed was Aya. Her face blossomed and she ran right at me.
"Cáel," she squealed as she hugged my waist. I patted her back and kissed the top of her head. That drew a mixed reaction from our audience.
"What seems to be the problem?" I smiled down at her.
"I; I can't; I'm not good;” she stammered.
"Aya's a winner," I declared. "Aya does. The only 'not' that is Aya is 'Aya is not a freak'. Did Aya get a Daddy this week?" Her face brightened noticeably. "Did Aya get a Daddy that wasn't a spy this week? Who's clever idea was all that?"
"Aya?" she murmured.
"Who? I didn't quite hear that," I teased.
"Aya," she exclaimed.
"So Aya's a winner. So what's the problem?" I asked.
"I can't hit the target," Aya explained.
"Yes you can," I nodded. "Let me show you." I led Aya back to the line. The liberties I was being granted weren't lost on me. "Okay, ready your bow and notch an arrow." Aya nodded and did as instructed. I'd shot a few arrows at school. Not a lot and certainly not enough to ever be considered an archery instructor. Confidence training I did know.
"Okay, can you hit this?" I held the grapefruit up to the tip of Aya's arrow, standing beside it.
"Of course," she giggled. I took a half-step back still holding the grapefruit out.
"Can you hit it now?" she nodded. We repeated the process again and again as I back up to her target. Occasionally I'd add, "Now track in your mind the movement of bow as you adjust for the range."
Aya nodded and before long, I was standing beside her; closer; target.
"Shoot," I commanded.
"Cáel," Aya whimpered, "I might hit you."
"Aya is a winner," I repeated. "Besides, do I look afraid? I believe in you, Aya."
The shot fell way short and skipped to within a meter of my foot. I wasn't worried. It was pointless. I tapped the grapefruit against the target. Aya looked to Caitlyn who nodded.
"Track the grapefruit in your mind, Aya. Don't think of anything else," I counseled. "Aya is a winner."
She drew, aimed, muttered something, visibly relaxed then let loose. She didn't hit me, or the grapefruit. She did hit the third ring of the target which, by the pristine look of the paper, was her first hit of the day. By the happy looks of her family, I was right. Aya squealed and started to run to me. Caitlyn held her back. I was still in the firing lane after all.
The Fates, Fortuna, or the Norns; those meddling, magnificent, malignant and mischievous divine entities hadn't finished fucking with me yet. As I reached down for Aya's first spent arrow, something tugged at the back of my hair and the now unforgettable sound of an arrow whizzing past mere centimeters from my head registered in my mind.
Someone, and by that I meant some-woman, had tried to murder me.
"Kneel!" Desiree's scream came a second too late. Bending over turned into a roll as I calculated the trajectory that arrow probably had taken. I righted myself, kneeling, on all fours, looking at my assassin. She was stepping out of the line-up and casually drawing her next barb.
No one was going to save me. The rest of the guys were only now starting to figure out things were disastrously wrong; for all of us. Having witnessed my murder, they were all doomed which was my assassin's true intent. Dodging arrows was marginally less impossible than dodging a bullet.
I'd fired guns before and shot a bow enough to recall that you really needed a vambrace to avoid ripping the skin off your arm. It also taught me that it was called a bow, not an eye-bolt shooter. Watching her eyes was useless. The strength of the bow was in the pull; the string. The control of the pull was in the fingers. I was watching the twitch of her fingers.
The second I saw those middle digits move, I launched myself to the left; the firing line. I saw her try to adjust, but a bow is not a gun. Once that arrow starts out, it has its own motivations. The arrow would have punched through my right shoulder and penetrated into my chest cavity. I wouldn't be dead, only fatally wounded.
Instead it passed under my chest and outstretched arm and leg as I was in mid-roll. Next time I knew I wouldn't be so lucky.
"No!" Aya screamed. That wasn't so bad, or distracting. Her running at me was. The smart play was to duck behind Aya.
If the blonde archer shot in her direction, Katrina's entire clan would have filled her with feathered shafts. I, having more love than hate, ran the other way. I wasn't going to make it. I knew I wasn't going to make it. She had her arrow out with expert speed and was tracking my path. I dove and she flinched.
The woman flinched because an arrow buzzed past her. It wasn't 'aimed' at her. It passed a meter in front of her field of vision. It gave me a step, maybe two. The arrow smacked into the very edge of the target. The majority passed through, but didn't have the energy left to hurt me. Now I was behind a target and the Amazon murmurs began.
"Hold on now," Felix spoke up. A dozen women glared menace his way. It occurred to him he was unarmed in a room full of armed women; and they weren't doing anything to help me. Suddenly we had brotherly solidarity cemented by our helplessness. The lack of noise was eerie. The ceiling fans chugged away and Aya was still crying my name. There was no other human noise.
My rational mind didn't desert me, despite the hopelessness of my situation. My eyes stayed over the curve of the target. I presented her with a shot. The trade-off was I knew what she was doing. She shot, burying a shaft a centimeter below the rim; nearly punching through and into my face. She was a really clever lady.
Her next move was to stalk me. Someone shut Aya up. I couldn't spare a glance to see if she'd been taken away. My unknown assassin was confident, not gloating. She didn't have much respect for me. She undoubtedly had read my Havenstone file, even Elsa's report. I had no tricks. I had Aya's arrow and that wasn't even a real arrow; it was for target practice.
The other Amazons used diamond-shaped hunting arrows which they were clearly qualified to use. The brutal reality was I was going to die. A female warrior from a martial culture versus an adventurous college graduate; no matter how you worked the math, I wasn't going to make it. The Blonde Death wove between the targets, forcing me back until I had one target left to hide behind.
Fate was one fickle bitch, or maybe they don't teach Amazons political science in Assassin School. She chose her final approach from down range. She circled around, waiting for my final doomed rush to an adjacent archery target. I'd never make it, but that no longer mattered. I took off my shirt.
I let the shirt and arrow fall to the ground. I laced my fingers behind my head then stepped out to present her a clear shot. She drew back, a slight smile on her face. I went to my knees, closed my eyes and waited. In five seconds, I wasn't dead so I opened my eyes. That is what she was waiting for, for me to see my death coming. She finished her pull. I grinned triumphantly.
Amazons don't train with compound bows. They go old school; composite bows only. While quiet, when a dozen are drawn at once, the sound is distinctive. By Blondie's look, she realized she wasn't going to be celebrating my demise for long. See, if by some galactic calamity she missed me at this range, she'd be shooting into Katrina's crowd.
That was why I had surrendered myself. I wasn't tired of living. I had sworn my life to Katrina and when she was put at risk, I had put my life on the line to protect her, thus making myself an easy target. Why was Katrina aiming at her?
"What are you doing?" one of the elders cried out; to Katrina.
"Leona is threatening my people," Katrina answered.
"That man is not your people," that woman insisted.
"I am not talking about him. I have children among us and she's hasn't proven to be all that accurate," Katrina explained.
"She is;” the woman started.
"She missed a man three times; twice in the open," Katrina snapped. "My youngest has a better success rate!" Katrina must have been referring to Aya. It was a lie, but still.
"I will not permit;” the unknown elder began. Suddenly every woman was aiming a bow at someone else.
"He is a man!" Tia Pharos, Felix Melena's boss decried.
"If a man pulled your child from a burning house, would you kill him for touching your offspring?" Beyoncé countered. "Better yet, would you shoot him as he ran into your house to save your child; kill him for trespass? This kind of insanity is why we are where we are today."
"Beyoncé," Tia shouted. "You are not one of them."
"I was opposed because I saw no hope in this scheme," Beyoncé responded. She pointed to me, "Now I have hope."
"Refrain!" Hayden thundered as she strode into the room, trailed by a dozen women I didn't know and one I did; Marilynn. I enjoyed that moment right up until the arrow entered my thigh.
I started screaming. GI Joe, James Bond, and Mathew Bourne, I'm not. I couldn't even fall backwards. I had to fall to the side because of the angle the arrow in my leg was in. I had been looking over my shoulder at Hayden when it happened so I had no warning.
"Gentlemen, you will be escorted from this room and events explained to you. Now!" Hayden snapped.
In the periphery of my pain, I saw members of the various departments detach from their Houses and lead my three remaining brethren away. I couldn't read their faces yet I imagined their expressions ranged from fear to bereft of any logical explanation of events. They were waking up to the reality they lived and worked in a madhouse where their worth was measured on the whim and patience of others; welcome to my childhood.
The moment the door closed,
"Cáel Nyilas, to my side," Hayden called out profoundly. As I clamped my teeth down to keep my howl of pain contained, Leona, the blonde assassin began to return to her group.
"Viper," Hayden snarled in Old Kingdom Hittite. Instantly three guardians had pistols pointed at Leona.
"Leona," Hayden beckoned over politely now that the girl knew that disobedience meant death. Without difficulty, Leona made it to Hayden first. They waited until I limped over. My pain amused Blondie. "Cáel, kneel," Hayden directed. I'd thought this one out and neither choice was pain, or worry, free.
I put the knee of my wounded leg to the ground and rapidly shifted as much of my weight as possible to my kneeling leg. The pain sucked but I didn't topple over screaming so I racked this one up as a victory. A minute ago I had faced a quick death. Now I felt I was staring down a lingering one.
I was not an EMT, paramedic, or physician's assistant. I had no clue if I had major damage and was slowly bleeding to death. I'd have clubbed a baby seal in front of Aya for some codeine at the moment. The conversation turned to Hittite. I was not privileged to hear my fate.
"What makes you think you can get away with this?" Hayden remained polite.
"It was an accident resulting in no serious harm to a male," Leona smiled. "I'll write Katrina an apology letter."
"You defied me; personally," Hayden coolly pointed out. Something filtered through my mind. Katrina wasn't coming to my defense like she'd done Tuesday.
There was one reason for that and Katrina had exhibited that to me time and time again.
"There are three penalties for this crime," Hayden droned on. "You are safe in the belief that I will not take your life. You are too valuable. I can still take your right arm, or both your eyes, as you are clearly too careless with your weapons."
"Never," Leona spat angrily. "I have not threatened to reveal our secrets, plotted against you, or slain a sister. Those are the only crimes that require that." Hayden contemplated her retort.
"Bitch [technically I called her the mating of a dog and a pig], your defense is that you are ignorant, or an idiot being used by ignorant people?" I said in Old Kingdom Hittite. "That's kind of lame."
A flea farted; at the other end of the field. We all heard it. Hayden grabbed the hair at the top of my head then tilted my face upwards.
"You speak our language?" she asked. I did my best to nod. "Is this a new development?" I shook my head. "Who taught you?"
"Oh," I grunted. "You may want to start by twisting the arrow in my leg, not that I can give any of you much advice on torture. I give you my pledge that my instructor was not one you and I have told that person nothing about your group. I don't expect you to take my word about it as you are all boxes of Cracker Jacks without the prize inside."
There was a snort from behind me. My bet was on Desiree.
"Do not defy me, or insult my people again," Hayden's eyes narrowed.
"I apologize, High Priestess. I elect to face my end as a human being," I replied. Hayden drew one of those small blades all these crazy bitches seemed to carry and put it to my throat. I closed my eyes.
"Open your eyes and meet my gaze as I end your life, Cáel," Hayden ordered.
"Do I have to?" I mumbled. "I'm sort of terrified." That brought some chuckles.
"It is my command," she reiterated. My eyes looked into hers. "Tell me this much; is the person you are defending a woman?"
I gave the only nod I could that didn't have me slitting my own throat.
"Did you lie to us about this relationship?" A tiny shake. "I am ashamed," she said softly.
"He's lying," Leona snarled.
"Why?" Hayden regarded her fellow Amazon.
"He's about to die. Is he so loyal to an outsider cause that this is how he chooses to go? Wouldn't pointing us at another be more profitable to him? By our ancestors, if he is this loyal to one of our sisters, he is the Golden Apple of our quest," Hayden proclaimed.
"Compel the name," several voices called out.
"Cáel, if you knew all of this, why have you kept coming back to work?" Beyoncé inquired of me. Hayden moved the knife two centimeters away so I could move my throat.
"Two reason; I didn't think I could get away and I owed Katrina. Leaving her in the lurch because I was afraid was unduly cruel to her," I related.
"Didn't you know we would find out? Did you think we were that stupid?" a different woman addressed me.
"Name please," I said.
"Answer my question," she snapped.
"Okay. Yes, Wicked Whore, I knew some of you would figure it out;” I began. She drew her blade and took several steps my way.
"What did you expect?" Katrina laughed. "Lacking a formal name, he created one based on his perception of your personality."
"This insanity shows in your blood," the stranger spat at Katrina. "You cloak your house in weakness, flaws and disgrace." I surged up as best I could. Hayden forced me back down.
"Cáel, what are you doing?" Hayden spoke loudly.
"She's insulting Katrina. I'm going to get her," I replied.
"You are a male, unarmed and wounded," she pointed out.
"Oh; not enough? Should I tie one arm behind my back, or are you admonishing me from spanking the mentally deficient?" I calmly inquired. Hayden smirked.
"Let him stand, Hayden," the woman growled. Hayden released me. She'd already made her point; men had value. My individual life no longer mattered. I had a different opinion. I will never recommend what I did next. As I finished standing, I reached back and in one savage motion, pulled the arrow through the back of my thigh.
I was really bleeding now and God-damn, the pain; the pain. For the past five minutes, my life had stumbled from one certain death experience to the next. I was finally out of rope. The hand on my shoulder caught my mind in turmoil and I nearly stabbed the person behind the touch with my bloody arrow.
"I've got this," Desiree told me. "She insulted my house and my nieces. Now the Wicked Whore is going to get it."
"Stand aside, Half-Blood," the unknown woman seethed. "I'll deal with you next."
"Feel free to not defend yourself," Desiree stated serenely. "I wasn't planning on recording your death upon my list of accomplishments anyway."
By the reactions of the other Amazons, not recording an opponent's death was the equivalent of calling them a 'mewling infant', or worse, a man.
"This is the problem with unrestrained men," a new voice joined the conversation. A quick glance suggested she was Fabiola's Mom. "They cause us to quarrel amongst ourselves."
"Messina, did anyone raise a feather to save Cáel?" Katrina countered.
"Desiree shot at Leona," Messina pointed out.
"In the past ten years has Desiree missed ANYTHING she's aimed at?" Katrina reposed. "Perhaps, if Leona had not been standing in the lanes, this might not have happened."
"The man was in the lanes as well," Messina persisted.
"That's right. I agree; he was; holding a grapefruit for a child to aim at and showing far more courage and devotion than I've ever shown to my own flesh and blood," Katrina smiled.
"He is irreverent, knows our language and our secret," Messina argued.
"He's been like this all week," Katrina kept grinning. "He has been home multiple times yet he keeps coming back to work."
"You didn't know," the unknown woman said.
"Who said I didn't know?" Katrina smirked. "I knew. I've talked to the person who taught him and they are of no threat to us."
"How dare you? You should have told the Council and taken immediate steps to remove him," Messina gasped. Things began making sense. Messina/Fabiola's house was allied to Katrina's. It was most likely a generational thing. Today though, Messina did not support this 'New Directive' of Katrina and Tessa.
Tradition dictated that Katrina mentor Fabiola yet politics meant that Katrina couldn't trust the young woman.
"I dare because this is my job; the security of our people," Katrina lectured. "I determined that Cáel would not betray us. I trusted him with my own family."
"This is fascinating. It will also wait until our next meeting," Hayden laid down the law. "Cáel, to my side," and a-limping I went. "Kneel." This time I nearly keeled over. "What bond can you give me to make any of us believe you will not flee if I let you leave?" I gave that some thought.
"I swear on my daughter's prestige," I offered. Hayden's eyes narrowed.
"You don't have a daughter," she pressed.
"Don't tell her that," I whispered. "She's got her heart set on me being her Daddy."
"This is not the time for jests, Cáel," Hayden cautioned me. I kept eye contact.
"He is referring to Aya," Desiree filled in the missing parts. "If Caitlyn unleashes her, Aya will be here inside of three seconds."
"Aya," Hayden summoned the child. I could only imagine the tension the adult women of House Epona felt as Aya came running my way.
Honestly, I didn't think about it. My body pivoted despite the weakness in my left leg and the pain coursing through my body so that I caught Aya before she could come around me. My instinct was to not trust Wicked Whore and Leona.
"Cáel," Aya sobbed, "you are bleeding. I got you shot."
"What are you talking about? This scratch? It hardly hurts at all," I lied to her. "Pain happens, Aya. Winners fight through the pain and get on with their lives and; "
"Aya is a winner," she sniffled. I pushed her far enough back so that we were nose to nose and forehead to forehead.
"Weak," Leona sneered. Aya's face clouded in shame. I didn't get angry, I laughed.
"Aya, that was from a supposed Amazon who couldn't kill me with four arrows. It only took you two arrows to get closer and you are only nine," I chuckled. "If she couldn't get the job done with four arrows, what does that make her?"
"A loser?" Aya's eyes grew large.
"Precisely," I kissed her nose. "You don't need to listen to losers. You are a winner and since you are also kind, you should take some time out to give Leona some lessons so she won't always be a loser. That's what taking responsibility for your people means."
"Okay," Aya nodded. "I don't like her but I'll do it for you."
"No," I shook my head, "you will do it because in you is the blood of greatness. True greatness is measured in the lives you save, not the lives you take."
"Pathetic," Wicked Whore commented in a disgusted tone.
"You've picked a fight with Aunt Desiree," Aya peeped, "so you must not be terribly bright. Cáel has taught me to pity stupid people like you, not hate them."
"Caitlyn, control your infant," Wicked Whore snapped.
"I apologize, Ursula (the Wicked Whore's name). Aya, don't talk to stupid people," Caitlyn directed. "It is a waste of breath. Now come here and stand with Mommy."
The best part of that was that the 'stupid people' could be referring to me. We all knew it wasn't, but it was a plausible excuse their opponents had to swallow. Hayden wouldn't allow further conflict.
"Have your wound tended to and I will have you driven home," Hayden instructed me as she rubbed my hair. Aya reluctantly headed to her Mom.
"Can I ask a second favor?" I looked up to Hayden. My first was on Tuesday.
"Your life hangs by a thread spun by the most slender spider ever imagined," Hayden clearly found me amusing. I nodded. "Ask away."
"Once my wound gets dressed, can Leona and I address the other three males," I requested.
"We can weave a convincing lie and keep the New Directive program going," I stated.
"What makes you think Leona would possibly help you?" Hayden grinned.
"She helps, or she coughs up an arm, or two eyes," I reminded the crowd.
"I'd rather face mutilation," Leona snarled.
"I'm cool with that," I beamed pleasure at Leona.
"Do not presume to dictate my actions, male," Hayden chided me.
"I wouldn't think of it," I responded. "I admit I'm still a bit unsure about when you ladies want honesty, humor, or for me to keep my mouth shut."
"You are odd," Hayden was grinning again. Sex.
"It is truly amazing to me how many women I can attract with the line 'I laugh at death'; mainly because it is true. Please do not mistake my flippancy for a lack of fear. I'm scared alright. Voiding my bowels and begging for my life merely seems counterproductive in the given circumstances," I explained.
"You will come home with me," Hayden mused/ordered. Yes, it was sex.
"No can-do High Priestess," I sighed. "I have a date tonight and it is against corporate policy for me to fraternize with company personnel during my internship. Thank you for the consideration, but you'll have to wait 78 days like all the other crazed psychopaths you call a congregation." Katrina broke out in laughter.
Europa, Loraine and Caitlyn followed suit. In seconds, Daphne, Paula, Violet, and Tigger joined them. A few had to explain things to their families.
"Convincing men to do what we want them to do is a difficulty we had not envisioned," Katrina chuckled. "I can guarantee he is a fully functioning heterosexual man."
"Cáel, how many women have you been with since Monday morning?" Katrina demanded.
"Ugh; let me think," I lowered my head.
"He has to think about it?" one woman questioned another.
"Let me see; Monday was sex-free which was rather remarkable."
"Tuesday I had sex with three women, Wednesday it was four, Thursday was four, Friday there was only one though I did have sex with her on two separate occasions. I had sex before showing up here this morning and she might still be at my place for a repeat performance if we wrap this up quickly," I detailed.
"When do you find time to work, or do you prematurely ejaculate?" Ursula frowned.
"Most of those encounters happen off the clock," I insisted.
"He's fucking our teachers," Europa volunteered. Gee, thanks Europa.
"I confess, I slept with two of their teachers; but, in my defense, they were really good-looking, single and fit in well with my cover story that I was helping the children's education," I defended my indefensible actions.
"Besides, it isn't like it takes that long. I can normally take a woman to orgasm in under ten minutes though the longest took twenty-two minutes," I explained.
"You are lying," Leona glared.
"No. The female orgasm; the reason the Creator gave men fingers and tongues," I wiggled my fingers.
"As a side benefit, tongues are really handy for romantic exchanges," I added.
"Do you have any siblings?" Hayden inquired.
"Sorry; only child," I shrugged, winced then swayed. There was a growing pool of blood on the floor around my knee.
"Sydney," Hayden addressed a member of her entourage, "take Cáel to the Aid Station and tend to his wound. Leona, you will go with them and help concoct a lie to appease the worries of the other males."
"No," Leona snapped. I barely saw Hayden's reaction. She took a step forward, her blade flashed out and she slit Leona's throat with one fluid move.
The blonde's hands flew to her throat but it was too late. Blood splashed everywhere. She staggered for a moment then flopped to the ground, kicking out the last seconds of her life. It was easy to hear their horrific words and forget they were a homicidal cult. Hayden's reaction was similar to the emotion I showed when at the supermarket and realized milk had gone up two cents a gallon.
Essentially displeased yet accepting it was bound to happen eventually and definitely going to forget about it by the time I got the bags to the car. That is how the Amazon High Priestess ended the life of someone her culture actually valued; my bet it was because she was a breeding female.
"Ursula, step forward," Hayden commanded.
"Why? What have I done?" Ursula gulped as she came forward.
"Someone has to answer for Leona's crimes since she is no longer able," Hayden explained coolly. "Do you wish to offer up some other member of your House to take your place?"
"This is wrong, Hayden. Leona is dead at your hand," Ursula declared.
"That's right," Hayden sighed. "You were born with the blood of the Unconquered, blessed by our Goddesses, triumphant in our trials and feted with prestige of the oldest martial tradition on Earth."
"He is a male of no tradition and a mutt bloodline. No prestige. No training. He bravely faced his fate minutes ago without plea while remaining defiant and loyal to a House he did not belong to," Hayden looked at Ursula yet aimed the words at the room. "In case you missed it, when that child approached, he shielded her with his body against you, Ursula, despite the obvious pain he was in."
"If you are not ashamed at exhibiting less concern for our people than a boy, walk away Ursula," Hayden stressed.
"You are showing mercy where strength is needed!" Ursula shouted. "You killed Leona over a male!"
"I killed Leona because she defied the Council, Ursula," Hayden purred. "We prayed and sought guidance before choosing the 'New Directive'. We have not only broken with tradition, we have killed it, burnt the body and scattered the ashes." She held up her hand. "Cáel, what is going on with Havenstone?"
"I doubt you are looking for a moral assessment," I grunted. I was almost at the door with Sydney. "Your male population is broken, your girls are being born deformed, mental, or sterile and your own genetics are screwed up. You are desperately bringing new male and female blood. Even then, you are treating your new women like 'runners', not like the Host."
Runners was the best interpretation of foot soldier in Old Kingdom Hittite. It referred to the peons who ran up to support the chariots; the true striking arm of those ancient kingdoms. In more modern times we called them 'cannon fodder'.
"Since you haven't bothered to update your definition of the term masculine in millennia, I can understand you treating men like a boot knife in a gun fight," I explained.
"Not at all what you want, but better than dying," I added.
"You believe we think so little of you?" Caitlyn asked.
"Need I reference all the women who came to my defense when Leona first shot at me? Or where Khalid is? Or what is going to be the fate of every male all of you have bred with over the centuries before now?" I replied.
"If you don't trust us, how can we rely on you to be obedient?" Brielle queried.
"Don't get me wrong; if I had a magic button that would kill every Amazon over the age of 17, I'd been pounding that bitch as hard as I could," I grinned. "A better cut-off age would be 15, but I kinda think Loraine deserves a chance to grow up to not be like the rest of you."
Loraine smiled at me. She wasn't alone either. It took me a second to clue in; it was my spirit that was attracting them. That and their desire to be the ones to break it. Even after the fight on Tuesday, that had been what Madi had mentioned to Katrina.
"I don't trust you because your whole race is insane. I will obey because I owe Katrina that much and more," I pledged.
"Have I been merciful to you, Cáel?" Hayden asked.
"Am I about to die?" I reposed.
"No," she promised.
"Then 'no', you have not been merciful," I groused. "At this rate I am going to have to date Buffy and Desiree and I was really looking to avoiding that amount of heartache."
Take into account that there were several women in attendance who hadn't a clue what had transpired since the first arrow flew at me. Everyone of importance had been chattering away in a language that was not only dead; it was also from a dead language family. There is no Old Kingdom Hittite word for 'Buffy' so when I mentioned her name, she stared at me.
A flurry of emotions washed over her face. On some level she was worried about my health. She also had figured out that I knew what Fabiola had called her on Friday and wasn't happy I hadn't informed her of this; even though she would have had to then kill me for knowing.
"Buffy," I explained in English, "I told them I plan to sleep with you first."
Buffy stood taller and pushed her chest out farther at that new; almost preening.
"You will be sleeping with me first," Hayden declared in English.
"Can we make it a three-way? Buffy scares me," I stated.
"I should scare you more," Hayden countered.
"Well, you'll need to beat Buffy's story about wresting a live jaguar to the ground and pulling all its teeth out," I fabricated. "I'm sure you have one only I haven't heard it yet." In English, because Buffy needed to be part of this conversation.
"You are dismissed," Hayden studied me as I was dragged away.
I lost the conversation in the archery field as the doors shut and I was 'escorted' away.
"You are one tough son-of-a-bitch," Sydney commented out of nowhere. The guard chuckled. These were some cold-ass people, if there was any doubt. Sydney had black hair, like Marilynn, except hers was heavily streaked with grey.
"Are you Marilynn's aunt?" I tossed out there.
"I'll make it easy on you. I am Hayden's oldest and Marilynn is my oldest and yes, I wish she'd get her life together," Sydney informed me.
"Nice to know," I murmured. "Pity about Leona."
"We do not allow infighting, Cáel," she regarded me. "The Council decides; the High Priestess rules." I was digesting this information glut. I smelled Katrina's hand in all this.
"Are you the next High Priestess?" I went fishing.
"That's not how we do things. We search for birthmarks, auspices and celestial signs to lead us to the proper candidates," Sydney grinned.
Wait; that was the truth! These nuts used astrology to pick their Supreme Leader; wacko.
"Candidates with an's'? Let me guess, they don't know it yet. The Council makes them run a gauntlet of tests to determine who gets the final nod," I reasoned. The guard jerked and Sydney stared at me.
"I see why Katrina wants you to breed with her house," Sydney mused.
"That's a pity," I sighed. "I'm devoting what's left of my short life to the Art of Masturbation."
"I like you," Sydney snorted. I was used to that. "You make Aya happy and that child needs it," was unexpected. Despite the pain and blood loss, I began to work out some things.
Things like sterility. My semi-educated stab in the dark suggested that there were only three breeding females in House Epona; Caitlyn, Desiree and Aya. Desiree's mother could bear children and she had mated outside the program to conceive Desiree. The two adult women I'd seen at Caitlyn's house had no children, nor did Katrina herself.
As prestige conscious as these women were, being capable of bearing children was most likely the deciding factor in letting Desiree come back; instead of being murdered. Likewise, the way they all circled wagons around Aya spoke to more than their compassion and sisterhood. It was unlikely due to their militancy they would force one of their own to breed, so Desiree was abstaining due to a host of mental health issues.
And Katrina had made a point of me making Desiree smile. I couldn't confirm any of this with Desiree. If I showed her an ounce of pity, she'd either throw up a wall, or beat me senseless. I wasn't going to touch Aya until she was eighteen. Caitlyn would be a more delicate issue. Delicate as in 'how many women was I seeing again'.
To be continued in Part 6
By FinalStand for Literotica.