10. The Search Reaches the Farm #2
An explosion of chittering erupts as Susan finally reunites with her partner in crime.
Then, very distinctly, the sound of Wreck saying: "Ow, Gerald, that's my face."
Cinder's eyes lock on the barn doors.
"Oh," she says softly. "There you are."
The barn doors swing open.
Cinder strides inside like a queen entering conquered territory, which, technically, this is. Her eyes adjust to the dim light, scanning hay bales, empty stalls, farming equipment, and three men who are very badly pretending they haven't been hiding.
Ash has given up on concealment entirely. He stands in the center of the barn, shirtless because he's been mucking out stalls, arms crossed over his massive chest. Gerald is attempting to climb his leg while Susan circles his ankles, chittering with joy.
"Traitor ferret," he mutters. "We fed you for years."
Wreck emerges from behind a hay bale, diving toward his reunited chaos agents. "Oh my gods, Gerald, I thought I'd lost you forever."
Susan and Gerald swarm up his arms, chittering a ferret duet of relieved fury. Wreck clutches them both to his chest, tears actually forming in his eyes.
"I'm never leaving you behind again," he swears. "Never. You're getting extra stolen things forever."
And me? I step out of the shadows last. Because timing matters. Presentation matters. Even covered in hay and farm dirt, I know how to make an entrance.
Bastard emerges from behind me with a threatening honk that says "I've been waiting for this."
Cinder stares.
Three men. Three bodies she recognizes even without the fancy clothes. Three faces she's been searching for across eight hundred and forty-seven disappointing alternatives.
I watch her expression shift. The shock of recognition. The flare of heat in her eyes. The way her breathing changes when she looks at each of us in turn.
"You," she breathes. "It's you."
"My lady." Baron Grimwald has followed her in, still sputtering. "These are just farmhands. They're nobody! They're less than nobody."
"Quiet." Cinder doesn't look at him. She can't look away from us.
"I've been hunting you for four days. I've inspected every cock in this kingdom.
I've been bitten, peed on, and propositioned by a man who claimed his penis could 'vibrate on command.
' And the whole time, you three were here.
Three miles from my castle. Shoveling pig shit. "
"To be fair," I offer, letting my most charming smile surface, "we didn't know you were looking. We thought it was a one-night thing."
"One night." Her voice cracks with outrage. "I issued a royal proclamation. I described your penises in official court documents. I have a scribe who needs therapy."
"We don't get a lot of news out here," Wreck says, still clutching his ferrets. "Also, I've been grieving Gerald."
Cinder's eye twitches.
I can see her warring with herself. Part of her wants to murder us. Part of her wants to fuck us. Part of her, the biggest part, I suspect, wants to do both simultaneously.
Then she grabs the boot from her lady-in-waiting and throws it at Ash. "Try it on."
He catches it one-handed and sits down on a hay bale to pull off his work boot. The mud-caked, size-fourteen work boot.
He slides it on. It fits like it was made for him. Because it was.
"Now the glove. You," Cinder says, voice dangerously quiet. She's pointing at me.
I take the ornate glove with a bow that's entirely unnecessary but aesthetically important. I slide it onto my left hand. It fits perfectly, silver embroidery glinting even in the dim barn light.
"And the ferret," Cinder continues, turning to Wreck. "The ferret I've been carrying for four days while he bit everyone who came near me."
Gerald chooses that moment to lick Wreck's face with aggressive affection.
"Yeah," Wreck says, nuzzling the tiny monster. "He's mine. Sorry about... everything he did. He has impulse control issues. And a biting kink."
"He ate three of my earrings."
"He does that. He's working on it."
Cinder stands there, breathing hard, surrounded by three men who are absolutely, definitely, undeniably the ones she's been searching for.
And then she smiles. It's not a nice smile. It's the smile of a predator who has finally cornered her prey.
I recognize that smile. I've been on the receiving end of it before, four days ago, in a ballroom, right before she dragged us into an antechamber and ruined us all.
I'm very much looking forward to being ruined again.
"Trousers," she says. "All three of you. Drop them. Now."
"My lady!" Baron Grimwald looks like he's going to have an aneurysm. "You can't seriously be considering them, these are servants. They're beneath you."
"They were inside me four days ago. Several times. In multiple configurations." Cinder doesn't take her eyes off us. "I think we're past 'beneath me.' Now shut up before I have you arrested for wasting my time."
She points at Ash. "You first. Big one. Show me what I've been hunting for."
Ash holds her gaze as he unlaces his work breeches and lets them drop.
His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, soft but still impressive, thick and substantial, with that slight upward curve she's been describing to traumatized scribes for days.
Cinder's breath catches.
"That's the one," she whispers. "That's the one that almost broke me."
From the rafters, the rats begin a quiet chant: "Big. Dick. Energy. Big. Dick. Energy."
"You." Cinder points at me. "Your turn."
I drop my trousers with a flourish, because I never miss an opportunity for dramatic presentation. My cock springs free, already starting to harden under her attention.