Chapter 17
Ash, the Anguished Drunk, Part II
Ash tasted his sweet Amber’s cherry lips forever. Smooching their warm moisture. Moaning gently with her. Letting her savor his yearning for her every second since all those years ago.
Savor her yearning for him just as long ago.
Mouth to mouth.
The warm night as sensual and warm as the blood pounding through his veins. Heated by the buttery light of the lampposts. Giving everything, including her skin, a healthy extra gleam Amber usually needed a lotion to obtain.
With a milky tint added by that romantic moon. Perfect for any such climatic scene.
Even with the sounds of battle gone.
Replaced by moans.
And a couple gasps in a distance. Wet rips.
Without even a slight echo of our moans.
But bathing in her cherry and vanilla presence. A fragrance fit for a king. Or a wizard.
When a crack rang out. From the wine bottle he threw in the air. Smashing against the cobble.
Only then did he notice the touch of her fingers holding his jaw. And they were as warm as his cheeks.
Hot compared to the night.
He basked in her scent. That cherry vanilla as rich as her lips. Her breath carried it as much as her skin.
Yet he still held her left boob in his left hand. Squeezing that plump yet silky bulge of pleasure. The nipple poking his palm. His forearm pressed against the other divine, no, hellishly endowed bulge. Nipple covered and poking gentle through his coat too.
Till his Paladin training forced its way up. Well, enough to make him aware enough again to listen to his surroundings. The quiet growl of the lycan girls now a few feet behind him.
And still nothing else.
Besides his heart pounding hot chocolate through his veins. The fresh hot sweet chocolate only the best cafes could manage to stock.
It also demanded he stop groping his beloved babe of his dreams. Her inevitable slap would crack and echo across the entire zigzag of cramped streets. Warning every and any girl that Ash La Pushka was the biggest pervert of them all.
Yet every bit of him enjoy every perverted second of it.
At some point some well-meaning idiot would stumble up the empty street and get the very wrong idea. Gawk and scream. Try to pry them apart. Maybe notice her snake bone wings coming out of her back at some point too.
Maybe end up killed by Mandy or Snow. Ruining their bizarre drinking contest.
Because besting a vandread by drink – no way Mandy could top that.
And no way Amber, her playful mischievous self, wouldn’t pass that chance up. At least for a good joke.
But this boob groping was part of her weakness as a vandread. Cutting the right strap, the right way too, probably. Certainly.
But the kiss?
His heart pounded even the hottest chocolate through my veins. Praying to any god anywhere, in Chemarin or not, would listen and this kiss would save them both.
Because the additional part of a vandread’s weakness that switched her master was her ultimate secret. Any vandread’s ultimate secret. Chosen exclusively by the vandread based on their weakness.
Something the magic of her existence prevented even her original master from knowing or acting on – which ended up doing the same protective act with the master who created her. Even if deep down she wanted to tell him, the magic compelled her to keep that part of her weakness utterly secret. Not even a subconscious hint. No matter how much she wanted to.
So if this kiss didn’t do it, then … well.
It's a been a nice fun life.
Ash broke off the kiss gently. Looked into her sad blue eye. The lock of blonde hair curved over her left face still giving those juicy red lips and rosy cheeks a lovely haughty look of a young goddess about to meet her untimely end with devote grace and epic courage.
His heart raced quicker than a terrified rabbit dashing for its hole.
The words he had to ask, needed to ask, dangled on his tongue. Stubbornly clinging to it.
So, like usual, she spoke first.
“As romantic as getting my bare boobs groped suddenly is,” she said, voice gentle and kind. Exactly way too gentle and kind for the content of her words.
Like talons snatching his heart.
Making him interrupt her before he could stop his blabbering mouth.
“But definitely the kinkiest, craziest weakness a vandread ever choose,” he said, “That’s what I love about you Amber. That and your drop dead gor–”
Amber shoved her forefinger across his lips.
Her silly grimace failed to lighten the stark silence of that moment.
Until a horrid inhuman screech blasted out from above.
* * *
A scream like a thousand nails against stone. Add a few hundred fish scrapped against rocks for good measure too. The cramped cobble echoing it against the cramped stone buildings. Making it even louder. Scratching every one of his bones raw.
Ash's instinct screamed to look up. Up at the sky. To scan for blocked stars.
Find the terrible source.
Right now.
His heart screamed to not look away from Amber. Her chest fruit still warmed his hand and arm. That cherries and vanilla presence too sweet to break from.
Especially when that silly grimace became a devious smirk.
“Yes, Master,” Amber said. As mockingly and belittling to Ash as possible. That chin up and using her left lock of blonde hair to full haughty effect.
His heart ceased.
Or must of.
The world froze. His body ice. Pricks jabbing every inch of him.
Her master … arrived?
A vandread like Amber was only mortal, fully helpless and vulnerable to fatal wounds, only while her weakness was exploited.
Meaning the moment he removed his hands from her boobs, she could, no, would slaughter him. A vandread by nature still needed to obey her orders. Staying alive to carry them out tended to involve destroying any idiot who discovered the weakness but failed to exploit it fully.
That's why his cowardly body suddenly demanded he slay her. His Paladin instincts, those years of rough training, told him instantly the right move.
A good thrust in any vital would do it quickly.
Yet his heart screamed to let her go.
And his mind so horrified at his body’s cold calculation that it kept him paralyzed for another vital moment.
When her sultry straps of doom swung up and behind her. Strung bloody through and around each lycan. Snow with it through her shoulders, stomach. Around her limbs.
And through her chest.
Blooding dripping out of her mouth. Eyes partly shut.
Across from her Mandy was the same – just the chest wound was below her boobs.
“Amber …” he barely managed to stutter out.
“You smashed your chance, Ashtray, to little itty bits,” said Amber, “First thing out of your mouth should of been an order to acknowledge you as my master. Then you should of given me my prime directive. But my original master got to me first so … sorry, but the closing act's come and there's no delaying it much longer.”
All he could do was gulp. His throat more bitter and sour than precious aged wine gone to vinegar – with rancid oil added for good measure.
Even if he still clung to Amber's chest fruit.
The night air seemed to grow horribly cold.
“Nooooo!” exclaimed a squeaky guy's voice. Coming quick from above. Behind Amber.
Suddenly a tabby kitten with bat wings zoomed at Snow. Its tail … an orange scorpion, including a barb that was probably poisonous.
It flew from some roof behind her. Darted around her moaning, bleeding body.
Like some horrified bizarre pet of the finest of nobles finally given an adorable voice.
“No, no, no,” said the little bat-kitty, “I've worked so, so hard. You can't die now! It's not time –”
One of Amber's snake-bone wings flipped up. Looped around and plucked the bat-kitty from the air.
Then swung the gawking little critter where they both could see it clearly.
A bit scrawny. Fur a bit ragged. Smelling of little kitten too.
Especially with very wide, very sweet green grape eyes.
The kind of pathetic desperate grapes offered to a noble whenever a fool realized his horribly dire mistake, and adding the most heart-wrenching and sincerest of apologies with it.
Often losing their head afterwards, minus the torture beforehand.
Sometimes.
If they were lucky.
“Mercy! Mercy!” said the bat-kitty, “I'm just a harmless little manticore. Nothing to see here. I –”
That only made Amber raised her eyebrow.
“Since when did lycan keep pets?” asked Amber, “Or are you her mentor?”
“Pet?!” cried the bat-kitty, “I'm the great Leo – the little, unknown manticore named Leo. Just tagging along. Yeah, tagging along for –”
The snake-vertebrate bones tightened a bit.
And the bat-kitty squealed.
“Ack!” cried Leo, “I don't know anything! I didn't teach her any magic! I swear! I don't even know her! I mean, I only just met her … recently. Let me explain.”
Normally, at this moment, any sensible lightling or darkling would of started pointing out how horribly unbelievable and suspicious this squeaky bat-kitty sounded. Threatened some abuse in order to get it talking the truth.
But not Amber, or Ash.
Amber merely grimaced.
Ash's own lightly skeptical expression merely complimenting hers.
“Go on,” she said.
Because acting this bad had its own charm.
“Well, where do I begin?” asked Leo.
“The beginning,” said Amber, “Or course.”
“Ah, yes, the beginning, of course,” said Leo, “I was born the last of a lowly litter of manticores. Our nest was a squalid cave tattered with muddy dirt, broken stones, and chilly streams. Where my siblings beat me day and night. Me being the runt, of course.”
“Of course,” said Amber and me.
Because waiting for the right moment was key here. Even with the scent of blood growing so strong it started countering Amber's sweet cherry and vanilla scent.
Enough to chill any sensible fool's spine even more.
“The few mice and bunnies my poor, poor mom, thin and bony from hunger, managed to bring to us, oh how she struggled, she had to catch from long abandoned homes,” said Leo, “And my dear siblings munched them all down. Every single one of them. Leaving none for me. You see, Bobby was a big manticore and needed to grow bigger. So did Bubba and Becky. But me? No. Not even a tail for me. Or a tiny bitty bone to gnaw. Or even a drop of blood to lap up. A runt stayed a runt. Their beatings bruising and bleeding me until I could take it no more! And I ran away. Across murky forests, smelly swamps, bone-dry deserts that nearly killed me. Until dying of exhaustion, my dear young Snow found me. Two little kids beat and shunned by everyone else. Her tale of woe even worse than mine!”
Now it was pretty hard for Ash to hide his shock. To the point his face ached from it. Because, while you hear of horrible liars all the time …
But this horrible?
“Since you were little kids,” said Amber, “Who met recently and shared heart-shredding tales of woe, and then gained unbreakable bounds of friendship. So I might as well shred both your hearts for real and end your mutual misery.”
“Ack!” screamed Leo.
Then he screamed at Ash, “Go kiss her again! Order her to obey me! You! I mean –”
Amber blinked at the bat-kitty. Her juicy lips parted a bit. Skin paling a touch too.
Her body tensing. Even her boobs.
When I dove in and smooched her on the lips.
My mouth tasting her sweet, moist, warm cherry taste.
For only a moment.
Then Ash broke off and said, “Amber, I order you to –”
“Obey your original maker and –” interrupted Leo.
“But serve however you wish –” said Ash.
“But spare your original maker too –” broke in Leo.
“And follow your own heart,” added Ash.
“As long as it doesn't involve killing me, the great Leonard,” said the bat-kitty.
“Or –” Ash began.
But Amber shoved her palm over Ash's mouth.
Squeezed the bat-kitty so tight its bones should of cracked, even if there weren't any pop sounds. His squeal was only half its high-pitched intensity. Plus, very airy.
“You almost had me,” said Amber, “A second time. Boys, this is getting ridiculous. Even for me. And that's saying a lot. It's been fun. And I do have one last question, Leo. If Gordack didn't make me, then why's he my master?”
Ash's own heart suddenly pounding hard at the news.
Gordack? The foremost Butcher Brother? Of the three toughest, cruelest ratlings for generations?
And a brilliant commander general supposedly too.
Even Felix wouldn't challenge them carelessly. Only an ambush, hidden by magical, could pull it off.
Except the eldest brother, rumor had it, had powerful magics at his command. Magics only the Earth Wizard could counter now, in person, according to the wizard's own random comments.
Now the stink of blood thick in the air made more sense. The lamppost beginning to dim too. From so many late night, drunken experiences, these lights went out sometime between the next second and the next half hour or so.
Usually close, if not at, the worst possible moment.
Something Gordack must of planned for ahead of time.
And since Ash's memory after enough drinks wasn't all that reliable, it might be sooner.
Worse, everyone's fate was in the hands of a puny bat-kitty of legendary lying incompetence.
They were doomed.
“Well, you see,” began Leo, “It's a long story. About a poor foolish wiz – boy – young man. Desperate for –”
Another squeeze and squeal shut the bat kitty up again.
“One last chance,” said Amber, “Or I shred you real slowly.”
Her wicked pearly white grin made Ash's hands and arms clammy. Despite her chest fruit warming them.
“Eeep!” said Leo, “Gordack –”
A preemptive squeeze and squeal cut him off. Sending his kitty head bobbling high up.
“The truth,” said Amber.
“Yes, yes!” cried Leo, “Gordack wanted a vandread. Soul Magus too. He's quite a needy guy. And seeing how I specialize in undead, among other things, very expensive – ACK – okay. okay! I made lots of stuff during my illustrious career. But those two both refused to take the usual risks with vandread so he convinced me to try something interesting. Something that hasn't been done before. And I, the wonderful great prodigy Leonard, was up to the challenge. Because never-been-done-befores start getting rare after a while. Once you've lived long enough and so on. And an upset Gordack was the type to make sure I wouldn't live very comfortably for a very long. Not like the short stupid life of that poor brutish tig– I mean, spare dark … lings, we memory hexed to –”
“Amber!” shouted Mandy, rasping loud, “I order you to spare our lives, hold that cat idiot tight, and find a safe way to heal me and Snow.”
Amber gasped.
Blue eyes wide like struck by a blue bolt.
And said, “Yes, master.”
Yet the tension in her body eased up a touch.
Her peachy complexion returned a bit.
Until her snake bone wings and sultry straps all suddenly shattered into nothingness.
* * *
The crackle of bone and strap shattering at once echoed too loud through the narrow streets. Freezing everyone. Only the dimming lights hiding the full extent of her wardrobe disaster. The two lycan trembling. Falling to the bloody cobble below them.
Landing each with a thump.
A wet gasp.
The clothing burst even hit Ash with a breeze of extra sweet cherry. Making the street a while seem even narrower.
The coppery blood made everything stink worse.
If people weren't staring through the dark, shuttered windows on every floor, they definitely were now. Staying utterly silent too. With no lights to give them away.
No sane people here would draw attention to themselves during a darkling invasion.
When Leo squawked. Slipped free.
Wings flapping.
Until Amber grabbed him.
Smash his back against her stomach. Her left arm pinning the little kitten against her. Its head pillowed between her boobs.
And Leo now smiling perverted. Like a drunk groping his dream wench, a wench who willing playing along too.
“Didn't know you liked me this much,” said Leo softly.
Too softly.
But Amber focused on Mandy. The orange tigress struggled to her feet. All her limbs wobbling. Bloody.
While Snow could barely get to her knees. The blood flowing freely.
Even from her mouth.
Enough to wrench Ash's gut. Technically, he shouldn't give a damn. His mouth shouldn't taste as sour as a lemon added to wine. No, he should cheer. Not only did Mandy just save his life. She would soon be dead. Her fox purren too. Then Amber and Ash would be free to abscond to a new life of playwrighting devilry.
Yay.
Ignore Mandy and Snow had fought beside him against Amber. Saved his pathetic life from an inevitable gruesome death.
“I know I place that might help,” said Amber, “It's the only place we have a chance with too. A secret place. So you lycan better swear –”
“Take us,” said Mandy, her three-inch claws coming out, “I order you to.”
Amber clicked her teeth shut. Not quite bared them.
Though the twisting of her mouth suggested she really wanted to.
The silence surrounding everyone now thick enough that a bottle couldn't smash it.
“Fine,” said Amber, “As you command, master. Just try to keep up. And not give us all away with trails of blood.”
The catgirl's bloody grin sent several chills down Ash's spine.
Especially when her gaze landed on him.
“Two wins are mine,” she said, “One more and you are mine as well.”
Ash could only gulp at that.
Yet relieved that, as a man proud of his drinking process, demented him didn't just win by default.