VoodooMoon (19 page)

Her only reply was a strangled, wordless cry as his mouth covered her and his tongue found her center. As he enjoyed her, he reveled in her moans and writhing until she tensed, cried out, and came in a fury of shudders and whimpers.

Hot desire mixed with self-satisfaction washed through him, nearly breaking his tenuous control. He couldn’t wait any more, he needed to be deep inside her. Now.

He slid back up her body, barely taking the time to push his pants past his hips. He paused, holding himself above her, poised at her entrance. He stared down at her, wanting to take in every emotion that crossed her face as he slid slowly into her, but Fiona took the moment out of his control. She bucked her hips up, simultaneously wrapping her long, muscular legs around his hips pulling him down. Watching Fiona’s expression became a moot point. Sensation exploded within him, blinding him for a moment, as he slid deep into her hot, silken depths in one swift, smooth motion. They gasped out their pleasure and shock in unison. Her body pulsed and clutched around him and her nails dug into his back. Ian nearly shattered.

By some miraculous feat of strength and self-control, he held on, holding her close and still while her body got used to the intrusion, and he pulled himself together enough to be able to move without exploding.

“Oh, baby, what a fit. Are you okay?” he whispered, his mouth right at her ear.

“Fuck, Ian, you are a bit more than I was expecting. But yes, I’m wonderful.” She gasped out, her death grip on his back loosening just a bit.

“Good, me too.” he kissed her earlobe. “I don’t think I can be still much longer. Are you ready for this?”

Her reply was a deep, guttural moan. “Oh, hell yeah.”

Then there were no more words. Ian started rocking into her, slowly and gently at first, a little more as her body softened and opened to him. Soon he was thrusting into her in long, deep strokes, and she was moving with him, her hips moving up to meet his.

The world melted away and there was nothing, no existence in the universe but the two of them. A void surrounded them and Ian could see, hear, feel, taste, nothing but the woman beneath him. He drove into her, heat and tension throbbing through his body. Each moan and shudder from her doused fuel on the fire within him. Just when he didn’t think he could take any more, she arched and tensed beneath him, her cries echoing in his ears as her body tightened and convulsed around his. Inside Ian something hot and fiery broke apart, shards of lava rocketing through him and the universe shattered and fell away in tiny pieces, dropping him into oblivion.

He had no idea how long it took the world to start resolving around them, the shattered pieces gluing back together to form a coherent reality where he could see, hear, breath. We he finally started coming back to himself he rolled onto his back, taking Fiona with him. He pulled and manipulated until their legs were entwined and she lay half on him in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his chest.

They lay like that for a long while in silence, catching their breath, while he ran his hand lazily up and down her back.

“So, I take it you one of those girly-men who likes to cuddle and be touchy-feely after sex,” Fiona said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ian barely had enough energy to laugh. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

“Okay,” she said, sleepily. “I can live with that.”

Ian chuckled and just pulled her tighter. Within a few minutes her breathing slowed, indicating she’d fallen asleep. Ian kissed the top of her head and let himself drift off, too.

Pain radiated throughout his body as he slowly fought his way to consciousness. When his essence bounced back into his corporeal body from far away it was always painful and it took him hours to wake afterward. He usually vacated the shells he wore when they were only a few feet away. But he’d been forced to leave bodies behind miles from his own not once but twice in the past week. Not only did it hurt, but he’d lost two perfectly usable avatars and now he had none. No way to walk amongst the unclean to find beings worthy to nourish him and his flock. He would have to rely on his minions to find a shell worthy to be his next avatar.

Rage filled him. “Amos!” He roared, his voice echoing through the hall, eliciting whimpers of fear from the occupied cages that lined the walls.

His most trusted and loyal disciple was at Bokor’s feet, pressing his forehead to the floor within seconds. “My Lord, how may I serve?”

“You may rise,” Bokor, told him magnanimously. As his right hand man Amos was afforded the privilege to stand in his presence. “You were behind my throne waiting upon my call. I take that to mean Irwin has returned?”

“Yes, my Lord. He returned almost an hour ago,” Amos replied.

“Bring him,” the order thundered through the hall, bringing on more whimpers. “And bring me whichever one of those mewling animals is making all that noise.”

“Yes, Master,” Amos bowed and backed away, turning his back only when he was out of Bokor’s direct line of site.

A few minutes later a tall thin man in a tattered gray robe that signified his place in Bokor’s flock entered the hall. His eyes firmly on the ground he picked his way along the littered floor and dropped to his knees in front of the raised platform that held Bokor’s throne. He immediately raised his arms above his head and bowed down, pressing his head to the cold floor. “My Lord, I am here as you command.”

Amos followed, shoving a crying female to the ground next to Irwin. “Hush up and keep your eyes down cow,” he hissed in a low voice, then backed up to stand in his place next to the throne.

Bokor ignored the whining animal and focused on his disciple. “Up, Irwin.”

Irwin raised his head, pulling his back straight but remained on his knees, his eyes carefully trained on the floor just in front of him. He knew “up” did not mean stand, as only Amos stood in the presence of their master.

“Amos tells me you arrived back from the hunting mission an hour ago. Am I to take that to mean you witnessed the scene in the alley?” Bokor queried, his voice measured.

“No, Master. I saw you go into the alley. I waited and watched from my post as ordered, but you never exited the alley. A while later the alley was roped off by Blade agents and I mingled with the crowd that formed at the edge. I saw your abandoned avatar being loaded onto the back of a wagon.”

“Were you seen?” Bokor demanded.

“No, my Lord. I saw the Necromancer and vampire enter the alley, but they didn’t see me. I was at my post using my disguise just as you ordered,” Irwin’s voice quavered with growing fear.

“And when you were peering into the alley? No one saw you then?” Bokor inquired.

Irwin trembled, but kept his gaze lowered. “No, Sire. Even if they had, I would have been unremarkable and no different from the masses. As soon as I saw your avatar was dead, I hurried back here to let Amos and the others know you would be returning.”

“It seems the authorities have caught on to my little game and were lying in wait for me,” Bokor muttered, speaking more to himself rather than to his audience.

The woman, the one with the brilliant aura, the one destined to be his queen, the one that would help him rise above his earthly limits into Godhood, she was an agent for the Black Blade Guard. That would make things a little more difficult. Excitement hummed through him. Life had become quite humdrum lately, and he loved a challenge. There was much to do, for before the new moon rose, she would be his and he would be a God. But first things first.

“Irwin,” Bokor said, turning his full attention to the kneeling man. “You were also with me on the hunt the last time I had to leave my avatar before returning it home?”

“Yes, my lord,” the man’s voice shook. “I was on the street and recognized the moment you left the body and returned here immediately.”

“Ah, yes, I thought so. Don’t worry, my son. You did well, both times, in returning home as soon as you had visual confirmation that I had returned to my own corporeal form.”

The disciple let out an audible sigh of relief and his shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Irwin was one of Bokor’s most loyal followers and trusted minions. He had always done as ordered. He, like the rest of the flock, worshiped Bokor as a God, as well they should. Bokor provided for them and taught them right from wrong as any God would. However, only Bokor knew he was not quite a God yet. But he soon would be. Unfortunately Irwin could stand in the way of that. The man had been at the scene of both of the recent incidents. Irwin mingled among the non-believers every day as he earned money to help provide for the flock. Bokor could not take the chance of someone seeing him and remembering his face as one that had been at both places. Despite the man’s usefulness, he was too great a risk now. It was time to reward him for his service.

Bokor slipped into his divine site and peered at the man’s pale aura. Irwin, like all of Bokor’s trusted minions was a norm. Some of his followers were mages, in the past there had been many. But they were given the ultimate reward much sooner. Those with no magic provided little nourishment and their shells could not be used as avatars. They were best used as beasts of burden to perform menial tasks that were necessary, but beneath Bokor. There had been a time, when he was just beginning to realize his potential, that he fed on such lowly creatures as a matter of course. But no more. Mages were his preferred nourishment now. They provided the energy and power he craved. Yet, upon occasion it was necessary to feed upon one of the unworthy, be it for reward or punishment.

“Irwin, you have been a perfect example of piety and obedience,” he decreed, his voice taking on an air of grave importance. “Your name will be honored and revered. You will be remembered as a great man who served his God, as well as his people in life and nourished their bodies and spirits with his own.”

Irwin’s head snapped up as he forgot to keep his gaze down. His eyes went wide with fear and awe as they met Bokor’s, and his mouth opened, but no words came out.

Bokor focused on the energy surging and pulsing within Irwin. He opened his senses and began pulling the disciple’s life essence towards him, into his own body. Bokor felt his own aura pulse and his power surge slightly as he absorbed the man’s energy. All too soon the flow of energy stopped and Irwin’s body fell limply to the floor.

The whimpering girl on the floor let out a scream, pulling Bokor’s attention to her. Her aura was much stronger than Irwin’s and pulsed with color. She wasn’t endowed with great power, but enough to slake the hunger that Irwin’s energy had awakened. Without preamble he sucked her energy, watching the colorful strands of light as they pulsed towards him, then mingled with his own making his aura burn brighter, hotter. As his hunger abated he realized her aura had dimmed to a barely visible smoke colored haze. He immediately stopped the flow of energy. He stopped the energy flow, tamped down his power and slipped back into regular sight.

The girl was no longer crying, instead lying still in a crumpled heap. She was still alive, her breath shallow but steady. Beneath the dirty, greasy blonde hair and dirty clothes he recognized the girl he’d taken last week. He’d fed off of her a couple of times and after a day of rest he’d be able to feed again, possibly twice more before completely depleting her and giving her over to nourish his flock.

“Amos, take the her back to the cages,” Bokor waved in the direction of the girl.

“Yes, Master,” replied Amos as hooked his arms under the girl’s and dragged her away.

Bokor eyed the corpse of his former minion. Though the bodies of the mages he took as avatars became dry and brittle after his spirit left them, when he pulled a soul out of a body and into his own, the left over shell was still quite fresh and usable. Once the soul nourished body he gave the flesh over to his followers to nourish theirs.

“Have that shell taken to the village cooks. The flock shall feast tomorrow,” he ordered when Amos returned to him.

Amos clapped his hands twice and two guards that were stationed outside the hall’s entrance hustled in. Amos relayed Bokor’s orders and the two men picked up the body and hurried away.

“Irwin had family?” Bokor queried.

“Yes, my Lord. A wife and two children,” Amos answered.

“Let them, as well as the whole flock, that Irwin was a pious man and he has given himself up to nourish their bodies as well as their Lord. He is to be honored and revered. Make sure his family is well cared for in the coming months.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Amos answered automatically, used to such requests.

Bokor settled back into his throne with a groan. The energy he’d just absorbed was starting to wash away the aches in body, but he would need some rest before he would be back at top form. Not that it mattered. He was now stuck in his corporeal form until another suitable avatar was found.

“Amos, summon the Circle.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Amos bowed and hurried out to do as he was ordered, without hesitation. That was why he was Bokor’s most trusted minion. His loyalty and obedience was beyond reproach. He asked no questions and offered no protests despite the late hour and the fact that the disciples of the Circle would need to rise in a few hours to begin their days work.

The Circle was the ten most loyal servants Bokor had. They were his top, most trusted minions. But there were only nine now that Irwin was gone. He would have to hold a ceremony to add the next member soon. The Circle was trusted with the welfare of the flock. They, and only they, were allowed to venture beyond the village into the land of the unclean to work and earn money for the flock. They were also his hunters, accompanying his avatar when he hunted for those worthy enough to become nourishment or future avatars.

Within half an hour nine gray robed figures shuffled into the great hall and took their places on their knees before the throne.

“My sons, I have two very important tasks for you,” Bokor announced without preamble. “My avatar has been lost and I need a new one so that I may walk among the unclean. I know I usually choose the hosts before you take them, but I must rely upon you to choose a male mage for me. Bring me one and I will arrange a hunt to replenish our stocks.”

“Yes, my Lord,” nine voices rang out in perfect sync.

“The second task is a bit more delicate. Tonight’s hunt was thwarted by two law officials who got in the way. I want to know everything there is to know about them both. The first is a male Nash City Guard, named Rangel. I assume that is his last name. The second is a Black Blade Guard named Fiona Moon. I will leave you to decide the best way to get information, but I expect you to be discreet and absolutely no harm is to come to Agent Moon. I have plans for her, but it is not time yet.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Split the tasks up, along with your regular work and be careful not to draw attention to yourselves. I would like a full report in two days. Now, go get a few more hours rest before you start your day.” He held out his hand, dismissing them. One by one they rose, approached him, eyes downcast, brushed the back of his hand with their lips, bowed and left the room.

When they had all left Bokor dismissed Amos and leaned back into his throne for some much needed rest.