Chapter 2 #2
The little witch takes her fingers and presses them in the space between my asshole and balls. It feels like lightning flickering all over my body. What the fuck?
“Fuck, swallow all of my cum, Cherry.” She nods, and her excitement makes my back tighten, and I begin to cum down her warm throat.
“Fuck,” I groan as she releases my semi-hard cock and rises. She begins to take her dress off. It pools at her legs.
I stand, pulling off my shirt, kicking off my shoes, and then my pants and boxer briefs follow.
“I love when a man returns the favor.”
I smile. “I am a giving man, Cherry. You should know that.”
Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement.
I bend at the knees. Holding her butt, I hoist her legs over my shoulders.
The object of my desire is right in front of me.
Her pussy is waxed and glistening, just the way I like it.
My tongue takes delight in tasting her, flicking at her clit.
Her fingers dig into my hair, and her stomach is pressed against my head.
“Shit, Aric. Your tongue. God, I missed it!”
I move into my bedroom. My mouth is still sucking on her clit, enjoying her screams and the wet mess that is on my face.
I drop her onto the bed, and she is breathless, crawling on her back, trying to get away from me.
“Are you going to fuck me hard?” she teases.
I crawl toward her. My body settles between her legs. My cock is pushing into her. “With everything that I’ve got.”
The room shifts like sliding sand beneath my feet. I can hear Cherry screaming through the chaos. The walls distort. I’m swallowed by a blinding flash of color. I can’t grip anything. I am moving, and I have no idea what is happening.
My back muscles twitch. “What the hell is happening, Ares?”
“The fuck do I know, Aric?”
In an instant, I was out of my penthouse and land in a moldy smelling room. I place my hand on the nearest wall, trying to steady myself.
“It reeks of fucking mold.”
“Forget the mold. Can you smell it, Ares?”
I close my eyes, inhaling the aroma of magic, the crisp metallic scent of the chalice, and the smell of a familiar bloodline.
My chest lurches, not from pain…but from recognition.
“Talia?”
My legs carry me to the bed sitting in the middle of the room. No…she’s not Talia.
“Who is she, Ares?”
“I don’t know.”
I drop to my knees beside the bed, brushing away the hair out of the woman’s face.
“She is beautiful, Ares.” Aric’s image watches me from the windowpane; the faintest ripple moves across the glass.
“Yes, she is,” I whisper. I trace her cheek with the back of my finger. She feels soft, warm…real. Too real.
“Where is the chalice?”
I look around the bed, then a hint of gold catches my eye.
My hands tremble as I reach out for it. Sadness engulfs me as I remember the last time I held it. I close my eyes, and the cup heats in my hand, reminding me that there is a soul trapped in there.
I look back at the woman sleeping on the bed. “You drank from it.”
My fingers rub softly against her lips.
“She doesn’t even know what she has done, does she?”
I sigh. “You are doomed.”
Laughter seeps through the hallway…Mortal laughter, high-pitched and annoying. The doorknob rattles.
“Someone is trying to get in.”
I open the door. Four boys in green shirts blink at me, lit by the flashing neon light of Gina’s Diner across the street.
The shortest one, a Latino kid with a backward cap, burst out laughing. “Dude, your face.”
The taller Chinese boy elbows him. “He likes the fucking….a opera guy in the mask. Pirates of the Caribbean. No. Um.”
“The Phantom of the Opera,” another one supplies, he is dark-skinned, wiry, eyes full of challenge.
The fourth, the heavyset white boy with freckles, said, “More like an ass with pimples.”
I grunt, “Why are you here?”
The one in the cap grins. “We came to give sweet cheeks a goodnight kiss.”
“Or a fuck,” says the dark one, and the others laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“She kicked Troy’s ass,” the tall one adds. “We’re just evening the score.”
My scar throbs. Kill them Ares.
“By the gods,” I mutter, rolling my neck from side to side. “Normally, I’m the one who chooses violence.”
The freckles one squints. “Why the fuck are you naked?”
He steps closer. “I mean, with equipment like that, I’d be naked too.”
He lifts his fist like we’re about to pound one out. I grab it and twist it. The snap is sharp and clean. Of course he screams. “Fuck, it hurts.”
“Shut up and kneel.”
He kneels.
The Chinese boy yanks his shirt up to flash the handle of his gun.
He doesn’t see me move. The next thing he knows, the barrel is in his mouth.
He freezes, eyes wide. “I don’t want any problems.”
“Why were you coming into the room again?” I ask.
No one answers.
I pull the gun free and shoot the dark one in his knee. He collapses, howling.
“It was Street’s idea,” the green-eyed kid blurts out, pointing to the kneeling boy. “I didn’t even want to be here.”
“Leave,” I command. The green-eyed boy is the first to take off running.
“And you call that merciful.” Aric whispers.
I grunt, “Let my aim prove to be true.” I turn and fire, at the green-eyed one screams as the bullets rip through his calf.
“You were here to rape this woman?” I ask quietly.
Everyone head shake “No.”
Lies.
I sigh and grab the wrist I already broke. I bend it until Street shrieks.
“Fuck! Yes! We’re sorry, man! Say it,” Street cries out.
“Sorry,”
“Sorry, man!”
“You can end their lives now. They all look older than 18. Or you can teach them a life lesson.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Nineteen.”
“Twenty.”
“Eighteen.”
“Twenty-one,” Street gasps.
“I’m neither Pluto nor Socrates,” I reply to Aric. “I don’t teach lessons.”
I pull the trigger four times, and their bodies drop to the floor.
“She can’t wake up to this.”
I sigh, throwing the gun on top of the large one’s body.
“Phobos,” I call out, then I feel the air grow hot around me.
“Should I ask why the fuck you are naked or just roll with it?” Phobos pushes his glasses up. His aquamarine eyes are beautiful, but they look dead. He sits on the railing of the stairs, looking down at the mess that I just made.
“Get rid of the bodies.”
“When did I get demoted to janitorial services?” Phobos mutters, rubbing a hand over his short gold hair.
I sigh. “It’s not a demotion; it’s trust. I know you wouldn’t tell the rest.”
He pulls a cigarette from his jacket and places it between his lips. “Why is that?”
“Because I found the chalice, and I need a moment before everyone knows.”
“May I see it?”
“No.”
He strikes a match and cups his hand to light his cigarette.
We hear a groan, and both Phobos and I turn to see the boy with green eyes crawling toward the stairs.
“Deal with him for me.”
Phobos nods and stoops down next to the boy.
“Help me, please,” he begs.
“Shhh, shh. My name is Phobos; I am your friend.” Phobos moves the hair out of the boy’s face.
“Help…me, please,” the boy pleads, stretching out his hand.
“No.” Phobos pushes his hand down, then presses his finger to the boy’s forehead. “Now…let’s see what will make you scream.”
“Wait. Wait.” I turn away. The scream behind me is bone-deep.
I walk back into the room, closing the door behind me.
“I don’t want to kill her.”
“True, but I have to free Talia.”
Aric sighs. “Let’s go home.”
I take one last look at her, trying to commit everything to memory. I close my eyes and leave her behind.