Crazy Seduction(erotica)

110



She liked Henry and had a good feeling in her gut about him. She couldn’t see him mixed up in anything shady. That said, she was going to keep an eye on the big redhead.

She just had to keep her eyes open. Damn fatigue.

-=-

Two large men stood next to the bed and stared at the creature lying on it. Ram horns. Furry lower half with goat’s legs and cloven hooves. Big. Naked and it smelled like sex. The men glanced uneasily at each other.

It must have been drugged as it didn’t wake up when they entered the room or when they poked it. It was breathing shallowly, and its pupil responded very slowly when they lifted an eyelid.

One of the men pulled a large antique syringe from a leather pouch on his hip and shoved it into one of the veins on the Satyr’s thick arm. He drew the blood until the syringe was full. When he pulled the needle out, the spot began to bleed.

“Shit! He’s bleeding!” the other announced, earning a scowl.

“Give me a second!” the one with the syringe growled as he reached for the bandage in his pocket. They froze as a tiny spot of green light appeared over the injury and the hole sealed up. The light winked out then reappeared on the Satyr’s shoulder, spreading over the entire area of damage there, like a dim green fog. The men shared uneasy looks.

A cell phone began ringing, and they froze. When it stopped, and they heard nothing, they sighed. Then the home phone rang, and they froze once more. Still no noise.

“OK, time to leave,” the first said as the syringe went back into the leather case. The other one ran for the door. He got to the top of the stairs and surprised two Fae quietly climbing the steps. With a snarl, he dropped his glamor and dove at them. The front Fae jumped to the right over the banister, grabbing it to keep from falling. The second Fae got off only one shot, but it caught the leaper between the eyes and passed through his brain. He still crashed into the Fae, taking him down the stairs to land in a pile at the landing. They slammed against the drywall, punching a huge dent in it.

Ikehorn heaved himself back over the banister and rushed upwards to face a Werewolf in midleap. It raked Ikehorn’s cheek with its claws and drove its knee into the side of the Fae’s head as it passed over him.

Kicking off the wall, the Were grabbed the bannister to swing out into the open space and dropped ten feet onto a small table in the hall below. The furniture splintered under his weight and he sprawled on the floor with a loud grunt.

Shaking off the bad landing, he pushed himself up, grabbed the body of its fallen teammate, now back in its glamor, and sprinted towards the back door. Rounds from Ikehorn’s gun hit the body draped over his shoulder, but one grazed his calf. He engaged his glamor as he crashed through the back door, knocking another Fae over the railing of a small deck onto the bricks below. He leapt down and scaled the back wall to heave himself over it. Their SUV was rushing down the alley towards him. He threw the body in the back seat and crawled in after it, slamming the door. He glanced at his driver who looked a little singed. “DRIVE!”

They sped away as he checked the hard leather case on his belt.

Due to a broken clasp the syringe was no longer inside. “FUCK!”

His boss wasn’t going to be pleased that he’d lost one of his pack to a team of Fae. He would be arriving without the proof too. He contemplated telling the driver to head for the Canadian border.

It wouldn’t be far enough.

Still, he had Billy’s confession and the fact that the guy who changed Roy Duncan was a big goat man.

It would have to do.

-=-

Back inside the brownstone, Ikehorn climbed down the stairs and checked on Deslin.

“Am I dead?” the injured tech moaned.

“No, you did very well. Now, get up! We need to check on the Satyr. If it’s dead, you may wish you died here on the stairs,” Ikehorn scolded.

He helped Deslin to his feet and other than scrapes and bruises he seemed to be fine. Ikehorn’s face was a screaming agony, but he pushed the pain aside. He had a mission for the Queen.

They climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom the Werewolves, he now knew, had exited. They moved to the bed and stared at the Satyr.

“Is it dead?” Deslin asked.

Ikehorn was staring at the dim green haze hovering over the injury on the Satyr’s shoulder. Was that a good or bad thing? The side of the Satyr’s face was swollen too, with a green glow over it. He tilted his ear over the Satyr’s nose. “He’s breathing but barely.”

He pulled back, and Deslin stared at his face with wide eyes. “What?”

“The uh… green. It’s on your face now too,” Deslin pointed out as he took a step back.

Ikehorn realized his face didn’t hurt as much now. Whatever. He reached over the Satyr and lifted an eyelid. Widely dilated pupils. “Maybe they drugged him.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Deslin jumped, grunted in pain, and dropped his gun which bounced under the bed. Ikehorn looked to the doorway and saw a tall, slim Chinese girl. Her skin was alabaster white, but her lips were crimson. Intense dark eyes focused on them, and he could feel his willpower drawing away.

“We are not here to harm,” he said and felt that compulsion ease.

“Who caused the damage in the hallway?” the girl asked, slowly gliding forward.

Her movements were mesmerizing, so Ikehorn looked to the Satyr. “Two men broke into the house, and we followed them in, catching them coming out of this room. They attacked, and we defended ourselves.” He pointed to the Satyr. “I don’t know what they were doing in here, but the Satyr is under the influence of some drug. His breathing is slow and shallow. We need to call a healer.”

She was beside the bed and looked to the green glow on Henry’s shoulder. “What is this? Did you do this?”

“No, it was there when we came in. I moved too close, and now it’s on my cheek,” Ikehorn explained.

“It’s all over you now,” Deslin noted, taking another step away.

The ethereal beauty leaned over the Satyr with a worried look on her face.

“Henry? Wake up! Where are you?”

-=-

Henry was terrified. He’d finally realized that something was terribly wrong. He was no longer sure this was a dream. Maybe this was a hallucination from the drugs? It felt like a lucid dream. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was sure there was no fucking way he could create a dream this bizarre on his own. When he realized he had some control, it was no longer fun to be flying in the jet as he felt responsible for the life of the other passenger in this dream, the pilot.

When they’d flown through the rift, for want of a better term, he felt an immediate surge of energy. It felt like he might pop like the largest Fourth of July firework in history. Instead, the energy just snapped and crackled along his nerves making him very lightheaded.

When he came back from that buzz, he saw the pilot was struggling to keep the jet in the air. They were in a vast cloud bank, but the pilot was hitting the denser sections as if he couldn’t see them. They were blindingly obvious to Henry. He suddenly got the impression that they were in a giant factory or nursery for those cloud things!

They were rapidly approaching a huge, dense mass ahead yet the pilot showed no signs of turning, so Henry reached down and gently pushed the pilot’s hands to the right. While the man resisted at first, he finally accepted the course change, and they narrowly missed the giant. Soon they were flying along smoothly, swooping side to side to avoid the fluffy obstacles in their way. The vibrations diminished, and the pilot seemed to relax.

When they suddenly burst free of the clouds, Henry gasped at the vista. The world was spread out before them, but it looked nothing like Earth. The sky above was yellow! The sun was reddish-orange and three times the size it should have been! The plants were all colored in tones of red. There were rivers of molten rock flowing below them in the direction they were flying and in the distance was a mountain range taller than anything seen on Earth.

Something huge and black was beating its wings to climb up to intercept the jet. In the nanosecond Henry had to decide, he pushed the stick forward, and the pilot squeezed the trigger. The black thing shredded into bits. As they fell back to the surface, bright yellow strings swooped in to devour them. The pilot pulled back on the stick.

A light began to flash on the instrument panel. Fuel. Shit.

The pilot began looking for a place to land below, but Henry looked up.

Rainbows. They winked into and out of existence above them. They had the same colors as the rift, but they were beginning to fade.

When the pilot moved the stick forward, Henry pulled back. He looked at the control for the thrust and pushed it forward. The pilot caught on and added extra speed as he centered the nose on their target. An alarm began to blare its dire warning.

Henry reached forward and grabbed the last collapsing rainbow and held it open with every bit of willpower he had. It twisted and bent in the grip of his will.

They punched through into blue skies and soon after heard the sharp tones of someone barking orders over their radio.

The pilot barked something happy sounding in return and made some course changes as he struggled to get the failing jet safely to the ground.

Henry heard something. “… where are you!” called a distant voice. Tugging.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

Henry slammed back into his body, dragging along the energy he’d collected on the other side. His body arched up as it took a huge gasp of air. The green glow on his shoulder exploded like a flashbulb. Ikehorn’s full body glow triggered next and when the light waves intersected two small arcs of lightning jumped from Henry’s horns to strike Ikehorn. The flashes stunned the Fae and Meixiu, and they fell to the floor, dazed.

Deslin recovered first and immediately went to Ikehorn. He gasped as he looked at his unconscious partner. The facial wounds were gone! He looked younger than before!

“Ikehorn!”

The Fae opened his eyes and looked up at Deslin. Then he wondered why he was lying on his back. He stood up and immediately felt the difference. Nothing hurt.

“Your face! It’s healed.”


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