Author’s note:
This story follows “Veil of Years” and “Veil of Seers; Veil of Tears”.
To new readers! This tale is set in the same fictional world as “the Ancients” and Corelle D’Amber. I do keep in mind those folks who may arrive to this fresh, but you will find a minimum of exposition about what has gone before.
My tales will often contain mc, fd, ff, and edi (Extremely Disturbing Imagination). All stories copyrighted.
The library of my stories and “Corelleverse” series characters are referenced at: http://www.asstr.org/~EyeofSerpent/library.html
Veil of Fears
Eye of Serpent
“Cry ‘Havoc!’ and let slip the dogs of war.”
“Life is a long lesson in humility.”
New York City, 2001 A.D.
Madame Magnificat bowed to the applause; tucking double and letting her flaming locks nearly sweep the floor. She straightened once more, grinning into the spotlights and then walked off the stage waving.
Carol was waiting with the headache pills.
Madame shook her head. “No. Six, Carol, go get me three more.”
Carol made a disapproving face at her and walked off with a twitch of her white-thonged backside.
She swallowed the pills dry; closing her eyes for just a minute, she repeated a passage from the Noble Qur’an that always helped in terrible moments.
It hadn’t helped for the last two days.
The music flourished. She smiled and walked back through the curtain and onto the stage. She held up her left hand, loosely rolling her hips so that the high-cut leg openings of her stylized tuxedo displayed with showman-like perfection.
The crowd continued to applaud. She bowed once more. Nodded left and right. Left the stage and motioned to the manager to kill the lights. She was done.
She kicked off her six-inch heels and picked them up—starting the walk to her dressing room. Carol met her halfway; three more pills in outstretched hand. “I know you’re not supposed to take more than two.”
“I know.”
Carol pouted. “How am I supposed to baby you if you don’t listen to me?”
She shrugged tiredly and walked with Carol back to the dressing room. Opening the door, she set the black velvet pumps on a table by the door next to a vase of roses. The phone started ringing.
“No calls. I need to lie down for a week,” she said with feeling.
Carol nodded and picked up the phone. “I’m sorry, Madame Magnificat cannot possibly—.” She looked at her redheaded friend shrugging out of her sharply tailored tails. “Helly? Some woman asking for a He-Ka-Tee?”
Hellington Magnificat whirled around and grabbed the phone from Carol. “Yes?”
“Hekate. I need you.”
“Tapestry,” the Ancient breathed. “Where are you?”
“Right here in New York. I’m in the hospital, thanks to Lady Death and no thanks to Salamander. But I’ll give you my apartment address. We need to talk about the Dragon. Can you come to see me tomorrow?”
Helly smiled. At last! This has to be about Hong Kong, I thought my head was going to explode this past week. “Of course I’ll come.”
“Things are grim. I have some bad news about a number of our peers—and Yashra is dead.”
Helly closed her eyes and saw old dreams of blood and fire. The Knife? Was he in New York? She wanted to deny this news, but this was Tapestry she was talking to—asking if she was ‘sure’ was absurd. “I see. Give me your address and I’ll be there tomorrow at eight sharp.”
Helly ended the call, troubled by the weakness in Tapestry’s voice. She stroked the phone in her hands for a few moments; then set it down.
Sheba entered the dressing room with props from the hypnotist act. She kicked off her white heels and set them on the table near the vase. Carol threw a meaningful glance at her and then nodded at Helly.
Sheba moved up behind Helly and helped her take the black tails off. Helly’s disturbance was plain standing behind her without reaching for the special attunement. “Problem?”
Helly pushed her hair back over one ear and slowly took off her ruby earrings. “Yes. Several I wager. Someone I’ve known for a long time has died.”
Sheba exchanged a significant look with Carol, who nodded. There was comfort in Sheba’s touch as she ran her hands over the subtle curves of Helly’s back. She waited in silence, but continued when Helly’s tense muscles began to relax.
Helly smiled, looking quickly from the one’s face to the other. She lifted her hands, one pointed at Carol, the second directed at Sheba. She twirled her wrists in the air, her fingers flowing like flags from a mast.
Sheba and Carol’s eyelids rose and fell tracking her hands.
Helly lowered her hands to shoulder height. Her assistants’ eyes closed. She smiled and pushed her fingers down to elbow height.
The girls’ chins dropped to their chests.
“Hounds?”
They both echoed. “Yesss?”
“You are in heat.”
Both moaned and slowly got down on hands and knees. Their heads and hair hung limply pointed at the floor.
“Awaken, and warm your sister hound. I will join you after a few minutes of meditation.” Helly reached behind and unzipped her black tuxedo corset. She headed for a shower.
Carol and Sheba were looking at each other now with volcanic gazes. They smiled, crawled together and started kissing and licking. Small gasps of heightened pleasure matched their luminous eyes.
Honolulu, Hawaii
“How did you get this number?”
“Listen, please. You mustn’t go to Hong Kong. It’s exactly what the Dragon wants. She’s poisoned the River. It will soak into your blood. The liquid cruelty of the power will corrupt you as you use it. If you wait, give me some time, I will try and come up with alternatives.”
Corelle D’Amber pursed her lips. “This is Tapestry, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Balls! She looked at Doris and Miyu playing footsie across the room. “I’m sorry, Tapestry. I’m much in your debt for your help in the past, but I can’t wait. Someone very important to my—business is in Hong Kong and I must be there quickly. Thank you for your warning.”
“Serpent. Don’t do this.”
The False Serpent hung up. She turned to her friends. “The Horror knows we’re coming. Hong Kong is a trap. I’m afraid. I think Corelle’s in deep shit. Doris, get on the phone and charter us a jet for Hong Kong.”
Doris moved to the far end of the hotel suite and picked up the phone.
Miyu approached Corelle. “What did the Dream Seer warn us of?”
She looked at him wondering. He’s probably a thousand years old, and he says he’s helping us. Is he so willing to help the humans who have stolen the world from his kind, or is he taking us into a trap? If I watch him closely, will I find out which before we get to Hong Kong? “She warned us not to use the River. It’s poisoned. The Serpent won’t know. We have to get there quickly.”
Miyu shook his head. “Too late. This warning comes too late.”
She felt her hopes sink and her nerves tighten. “I know.”
He stepped behind her and reached up between her shoulders. He began to stroke her back with his hands, drawing strange curves and lines in serpentine form. “Then why go? We should withdraw. When the enemy is strong, it is better to give way.”
“No.” She stretched and leaned into his hands. “I won’t give way. I’m fighting for love. I can’t go back to Louisa, Dara, Suzie and the others and live as Corelle when I know I did nothing to try to save her. The risk may be foolish, but if I don’t do this—.”
She sighed.
“Yes?” He asked quietly, hoping to understand.
“If I don’t risk everything, I risk even more,” she whispered.
The Ancient Crane closed his eyes and considered the enigma she had spoken. He let his hands take the stress from her as he worked her aura.
New York City
Hellington Magnificat stepped inside the penthouse apartment entry. A gray-eyed man stood in a position of balanced readiness.
Magnificat knew the hand behind his back held a gun. “Tell Tapestry I’m here.” She gave her hounds a hand gesture. “Carol. Sheba. Stay.” The two girls eyed the stone-faced man warily, but settled back on their heels.
Jack Kepp walked into the room. “Welcome. Tapestry is expecting you. Gallant, would you please entertain the young ladies while we talk?”
Hekate laughed. “Don’t bother, Mr. Gallant. I don’t suppose that my girls will be easily entertained. Why don’t the three of you just sit out here and imagine tearing each other to pieces? That might be fun.” Hekate smirked and followed Jack’s lead to another room.
Gallant studied the two women.
They studied him.
He eased his gun back into a shoulder holster.
They put hidden knives back in their purses.
Tapestry was arranged in a large bed; water cups and plastic pill bottles perched on a side table. Her upper right shoulder was expertly bound in stained sterile wraps. The bed covers were casually pulled up to her hips and her stomach was bound with many bands of gauze over padding. The dark skinned seer was naked.
The unexpected nudity aroused Hekate.
She noted Tapestry’s nipples were hard and pointed. She savored the sight and Damascus filled her as if it was only yesterday. Her pussy began to weep. Lovely. She’s so beautiful. Dark mystery and earthy passion. And it was nice of her to offer me this sexy look. I’ve missed her. She’s grown so strong down the years. This display of injuries is as much about strength as weakness.
She drew an easing breath. Tapestry has always been tougher than the Others understand. Salamander is ever more the calculated despoiler these days. I wonder if he has the personal strength of will to deface one of the most beautiful women in the world?
Ah, Salamander, you depraved bastard. She looks awful. I wonder what she’s seeing about tomorrow.
Hekate absently noted the abrasions on several of Tapestry’s fingers, the scrapes on the right side of her face. The habits of her mind took over. A forward fall—right on her face. Shot from behind, and slightly above. Two shots for high damage. Salamander wanted her to suffer before the killing blow. She’s lucky to be alive.
She stopped at the foot of the bed, glanced at Jack, then put her full attention to the stranger in the room. Standing against a chest of drawers—a young woman studied Hekate—and she returned the gaze.
Very blonde, trim, maybe twenty-three. Expensive clothes, amber-rose sunglasses, pricey Italian design. Chewing the earpiece—probably only a modest level of patience and a preference for oral sex. Checking out my legs. Possible lesbian. Typical American bloodlines—she’s combinations of everything from Middle-eastern to Norwegian stock. Oddly confident. Wants to dislike me.
Their eyes met. Hekate’s gray gaze was open, the young woman’s hazel eyes were opaque.
Hekate smiled.
Tapestry spoke. “Ms. Magnificat, this is Nicole Barclay, my personal assistant. Nicki, this is someone as stubborn and more devious than you are.”
“Call me, Helly,” Hekate offered. So, a half-blood and she’s in the know, like Jack. I wonder if she keeps the old ways? Tapestry, you are full of surprises still. The River doesn’t seem to sing in this one, why is she important?
She offered her hand to the girl.
Barclay smiled, nodded and took the hand lightly by the fingers. Turning it a little, she bent and kissed it near the fingertips; as any hound might pay respects to the MoonDaughter. She straightened, slipping her glasses into her blouse pocket. “Charmed. Call me, Nicki.”
Very interesting. “I hope we will have a chance to talk, since it looks like Tapestry will be resting a lot.”
Nicki glanced at Tapestry. “She’s lucky to be breathing, let alone talking. But she’s still in charge and she thinks you will help us.”
“Perhaps I shall.” Hekate turned back to Tapestry. “What has happened?”
“Sit down. Things are going to hell quickly. I’ll tell you what I know if you promise to brainstorm with us about it.”
“Done.” Hekate sat the chair that Jack offered and crossed her legs.
Tapestry paused; then began to recount the last four months.
Jack closed the door to Tapestry’s room and joined Nicki and Hekate in the large living room. “Yeah, she’s knackered. Probably sleep for thirty minutes or so.”
Carol lit a cigarette for Hekate. Sheba still watched Gallant.
Jack looked at Nicki, who eyed the redheaded witch like a hawk. “Want me to spell out the bottom line, Helly?”
Hekate closed her eyes and blew smoke gently. “Please, Jack. You’ve got plenty of experience with Tapestry’s readings.”
He nodded. “We’ve hit an iceberg and we’re going down.”
Jack moved to the bar and made himself a drink. “In the previous century, less than twenty Ancients were alive. As far as peaceful co-existence between Ancients, it has been a ‘golden age’ since 1920 or so. In the last forty years, no one’s even heard a peep from Ogre, Crane, or Leviathan. By tradition, those three and Celestial Fu are the most feared of the Blood. Tapestry knows they aren’t dead, but they were keeping a very low profile.”
He looked at Nicki and smiled. “The ‘major movers’ have been busy. Salamander pulled down the Soviet Union and the Ogre did nothing to stop him. Celestial Fu kicked the Brits out of Hong Kong and fueled the entire technology rise of the East. The Fox has been playing with the democratic process in America behind his smile and the moral majority. Yashra made it plain that she didn’t want unifying governments in Africa.”
He sipped his drink. “The reclusive types, Isis, Raven and Aphrodite have been having more and more trouble with human intervention. They’ve retreated to more remote or protected nests—little else they can do about modern times without declaring war on the human race—and they know how well that works. Aphrodite is stubborn enough to give human interaction another go with a new champion—here in New York.”
“The Ancients who usually stay as far away from everyone else as possible, like Falcon, Rat and Fortuna, have been more invisible than ever. Means little in our current mess, they aren’t fighters to challenge the Dragon. Falcon is blind, Rat is a skulker, and Fortuna is probably drunk in some back alley.”
Jack nodded towards Hekate. “And the two uncanny Ancients have kept out of the big movers’ way.”
Hekate nodded. “Yes. Tapestry and I admitted long ago that we weren’t good at blood-sports. But Yashra.” She paused. “Yashra walked in shadowed places for many years. She knew death better than most. It is hard to think of her as fallen.”
There was a moment of pained silence.
Nicki finally interjected, “What about the Serpent? Why isn’t she a mover? She’s an Ancient-killer, like Isis and the Horror. She’s got billions of dollars and travels in plain sight.”
Hekate opened her eyes. “Yes. The Serpent. Historically, she is likened to Leviathan. If you make her angry, or poke at her, she runs off to a new hiding place. And her actual age is in question, she might be older than I, or younger than Rat. Having killed two ‘major movers’ defending herself, she’s been left alone.”
“Until Salamander started hunting her.” Nicki groused.
Hekate shrugged. “As Tapestry hinted—it wasn’t Salamander at all. It just looked like it was. I believe the Dragon started these events. The Serpent was a weapon to use against the Salamander. Fu is clever. If one or the other died, or if the Serpent’s secrets fell into her hands, the Dragon prospered. Or Salamander might have been pulled off balance. Whichever way it fell out, Fu won a leg up.”
“If the Dragon is so fucking smart, then why is she trying to burn up the world?” Nicki grated out.
Jack added. “And why did the ‘shy’ Serpent ignore Tapestry’s warning? Fu will have her for breakfast. The Dragon nearly took D’Amber’s head off the last time.”
Hekate sighed. “As usual, there are important things we don’t know. I’m more concerned with the strange pieces that Tapestry added that don’t seem to fit, but add to the darkness of events.”
She used her fingers to enumerate points as she spoke. “Tapestry believes that Salamander is newly injured, and that he may be captured by another Ancient. For curbing the Dragon, he is the obvious choice, and has chased her off before. Yet, he is not available and not likely to help if we ask.”
“Second, Isis is ill, or dying—Tapestry can’t tell which. Isis has beaten the Dragon in Egypt, but things would reverse in Hong Kong. It is a very bad sign that something is wrong with her, too.”
“Third, the Spider, is not dead. The Shadowkeeper was one of the two believed killed by the Serpent. Yet according to Tapestry, he is hiding somewhere out there. He is involved, but on no one’s side, per usual. Tapestry thinks he is definitely injured.”
“Fourth, the Ogre, the Raven, the Serpent are all headed to Hong Kong. May be there already. Tapestry feels strongly that this action leads to more misery. She’s sure death is a cloud over that place. She can’t tell more because the River is so ravaged there. I can’t see them working together, that suggests they don’t have a clear idea of what’s going on there.”
“Fifth, as the Great River grows worse, any injured Ancients will sicken quickly and die. Or they may be corrupted by what the Dragon is doing. They may fall under her power. There is a story as old as any of the Blood which speaks of the River rising up against us, and the Whore that shall ride the Beast’s back.”
Hekate paused again, and went back to her little finger. “Sixth. We have not considered the most perplexing Ancient of all. I feel strongly that these events would matter to him.”
Nicki took a step towards Hekate, intrigued. Jack straightened. “Who?”
“The Knife.”
“Myth.” Jack scoffed. “There is no such Ancient. Tap’s never gotten a reading on him.”
“The Knife?” Nicki asked.
Jack chuckled. “An Ancient that moves like a ghost among the others—supposedly unstoppable and implacable and also mad as a loon. You might as well believe in the old stories of the invisible healer clan. Anyone with powers like that would have killed or enslaved the rest of the Ancients by now.”
“Hey! Sounds perfect!” Nicki stared at him. “If the Dragon needs to be stopped, send in the big nasty Knife.”
“No one knows how to reach him,” admitted Hekate. “He is real, Jack, and very physical. He bleeds like the rest of us. Father Knife is one of my favorite mysteries—on which I’ve collected much information. I’ve talked to humans that have seen him. I know some of the older Ancients have talked to him. He is a bit like myths of the Christian Lucifer, he brokers strange deals for odd prices and intervenes in small affairs that often seem to tip large events.”
Nicki leaned on the back of a chair and glared at Jack and Hekate. “I say we get him involved. Set the Devil Knife against the Horror.”
Hekate smiled. “How do you propose we do that? I can tell you he’s nearby.”
Nicki shifted tensely. Carol stiffened. Gallant swept his eyes across the room. Sheba moved to a more commanding position of the door. Jack and Nicki glanced around the luxury apartment.
Hekate laughed. “No. Not here now. I meant that he is in northeast America. Perhaps even New York City.” Her eyes went opaque for a moment. “I’ve always recognized his scent since I’ve crossed his cold trail any number of times through the years.”
Jack looked thoughtful. “I didn’t make a big deal of this with Tapestry—but some weird things happened after she got shot.”
Jack recounted the last four days.
He grinned, listening to Jack Kepp tell the DogWitch about his discoveries.
Fifty floors above the street, standing on the tiny windowsill outside that penthouse, a young man in baggy pants and shirt pulled his baseball cap out of his pocket and put it on with the bill pointed backwards. There was no apparent means for him to have climbed there. Certainly no safe way down. He frowned and sucked on his badly burned fingers. Why would some cretin replace a standard aluminum railing with a steel one? I don’t know what passes for brains in some young people these days.
He sighed and put his ear back to the building. He licked his swollen fingers.
Come on, children. Figure out what you’re gonna do and do it. I can’t help you much this time. The Poisoned River would burn me up before I got within a thousand miles of Hong Kong. But then, you people don’t need the River to live. Why don’t you all get off your asses and just go see what the Dragon is up to?
Jack finished his tale of attempting to erase records of Tapestry’s hospital stay, only to find manipulated records already in place.
Hekate nodded. “Very interesting. He may have been involved, though his actions are usually more direct. It is certainly possible. You could question hospital people. I have descriptions of him, but that takes us in the wrong direction. I think the obvious solution is already plain. We need a human force.”
“No shit?” Nicki enthused. “Well, piss damn, I’m your ma’am.”
Hekate shook her head. “You aren’t human, Nicki. It took me a while to get a feel for your connection, but you’ve kissed the River. You can’t do it. We need someone who can get in there and kill the Dragon—knowing exactly what’s at stake—without depending on the Great River to do it.”
Jack smiled and hooked a thumb at himself.
“No.” Hekate shook her head again. “Not you either, Jack. Nor my own girls. Anyone that’s been opened to the River, even the Little River will be open to the poison that’s at Hong Kong. No point in sending someone who will be dying even as they try and get to the Dragon.”
Jack frowned. “So we hire someone? Chancy.”
Hekate pondered, her gray eyes seeming flat. “Who could we trust? Who would have the resources and manpower and put them at our disposal? Who would believe us?”
Nicki blew an exasperated breath. “We’ll take over an army! We’ll coerce gangsters! Something!”
“And the more we use the River on them, the likelier that they will never make it.” Hekate tempered.
Jack nodded. “Meaning that our weapon of choice, our strongest technique is already countered and beaten by the Dragon.”
Hekate nodded. “So it seems. Let me think on it. I promised Tapestry I would ruminate and I’ve not gotten full measure of this problem yet.”
Nicki noted that the Witch stood with a grace that seemed too deep; too dignified for someone who made her way through the world as a stage magician and hypnotist. She shook her head. This big-deal pow-wow hasn’t accomplished a thing.
Jack and Helly Magnificat walked slowly to the elevators, talking softly. The witch’s ‘hounds’ trailed after them.
Nicki made up her mind to call some low friends in high places. Her Los Angeles crime pals might be able to cough up muscle on short notice.
I’ve still got the touch. Nicki hung up the phone, smiling. A private jet. Grenades, machine guns, and at least twenty men ready to go when I get there. L.A., here I come.
She went to the hall closet and grabbed her jacket and purse. “Jack, I’m going out.” She beckoned silently to Gallant.
He joined her.
“Baby,” she whispered.
His pale gray eyes melted at the trigger word. His hard face softened.
“Stay here and help Jack with Tapestry. Make sure no one hurts her again—or I’ll be very cross with you, Baby. I don’t know if I trust this Magnificat.”
“I understand. The witch is dangerous, I know this from my former Master.”
She leaned on him and kissed him heatedly. “In case this doesn’t work. You’ve been a really sexy puppet, Gallant.” She winked at him.
Nicki walked out the door to catch a plane and slay a Dragon.
He watched the young blonde Kinspawn strut out of the building. He tossed the first aid cream in the trashcan and shook his burned hand in the air. Then he watched her hail a cab with a sharp two-fingered whistle from her red lips.
Sweet blood. I wonder if I can get her to teach me that? He stepped into the Great River when she ducked into the cab interior. He felt the flow around him transmogrify his awareness and his blood sang. The street took on a dull crimson sheen and went slightly out of focus. His skin tingled with the breath of invisible forces.
Like nymphs teasing his every inch of skin with the lightest kisses.
The Quick Knife moved along the sidewalk past the frozen bodies of humans dragging along at mundane speeds. His mind raced with the gifts of the River and though he could smell the distant venom of the Dragon even at this extreme distance, it could not harm him. His every thought quickened through his flesh. He crossed the distance to the young Kinspawn giving the blackened iron lamppost a wide berth. Arriving at the cab, he was careful of the steel of the door and fender. He studied Nicole Barclay from behind as she slowly moved bent over for his inspection.
The curve of her tight ass drew his attention. He bent and ran a finger up the leg she still had extended back to the street. Her blonde head was well inside the car. He eased his hand up her skirt and over her ass.
He sampled her thoughts. Slowed as they were, he only gathered scents and vague impressions. Young. A woman of action. A pale predator frustrated by the talk that produces no hope, no plan.
He cocked his head. He squeezed her warm ass. Interesting. Her blood is a complex blend of the Serpent, the Raven and the Scorpion. I wager she’s planning to do something while the others considered their paltry options. She’s excited about what happens next. I wonder. If she were properly trained, could she become Lady Death?
He grinned and used his fingers to pluck and pinch her nether lips under her panties. He danced the River through her legs. Hot.
A fast dart of his knife under her skirt and he stepped back with her pink silk panties in hand. He nodded and walked around to the back of the cab and squatted out of sight. He left the River and let the world resume its mundane course. He heard the door slam closed and as the taxi bounced slightly.
He sat the rear bumper and secured himself for the ride.
Nicki told the driver she wanted JFK and closed the door. She opened her purse as the cab pulled into traffic.
Passport. Travelers checks. Plastic money. Tear-gas. Make-up. Breath mints. She closed it. If I need special immunizations or paperwork, I’ll just have to coerce my way along.
Then she recalled the DogWitch’s comments about the Dragon corrupting those that would use the River anywhere near Hong Kong itself. So I need to stop in Hawaii and get forged documents if they don’t have what I need in LA. Wow. Sweating in here.
She rapped on the plexi. “Hey, turn the AC on max, will’ya? I’m melting back here.”
The driver nodded.
She eased back into the seat and thought about Tapestry. Pissed. She’ll be cooking when she finds out I’m wilding off like this. Umm. Maybe she’ll spank me when I get back.
She ran a finger up her leg and under her skirt. She found herself already swollen and wet. Hmmm. Going away present for myself? God! I’m such a nasty girl.
Her fingers worked gently while she hummed ‘Whatever Nicki Wants’ from ‘Damn Yankees’. The heat in her lips quickly spread upward into her stomach and breasts. She stretched her legs apart and slid two fingers inside. Deeper. She found a slight tender spot on her pussy lips and spread more slick honey on it. She hummed louder to cover the wet sounds from under her skirt.
Mmm. Yes. Mmm. Tapestry might be steamed enough—mmm—to spank my pussy until—mmm—I have to cum all over—mmm—myself. Ah. Mmm. Yes.
Nicki twisted in the seat. She levered her legs against the door and the seatback. She stretched. Her fingers moved rapidly. “Oh. Spanking, yes! Cum! Ripping! Fuckquake!” She came hard.
The cab driver flicked her glance back in the rear-view mirror several times and licked her lips.
Nicki kicked the seat, cumming twice more, then weakly a third time. She sighed. Hey! I was sure I wore panties this morning? That’s weird.
The cabby swore under her breath and put her eyes back on the road. Her britches were damp and bunched between her legs.
Nicki Barclay wriggled her stockinged toes in the plane’s carpet. She put the magazine away in the seat pouch and picked up her drink. She checked the time. LA in another thirty minutes. Damn long day.
Nicki stirred her gin and tonic with her finger; then licked it dry; the faint scent of pussy tickled her nose. She smiled at the hot memory of frigging herself on the way to the airport several hours ago. She sipped her drink and felt the power between her legs stir.
The cute brunette flight attendant in first class put another drink on her tray; made just the way Nicki liked it, one ice cube, and two wedges of lime.
“Thanks. Good memory.”
“Compliments of a secret admirer—asked me to give you this.” The attendant was blushing furiously now. She quickly reached in a pocket and put pink silk panties on Nicki’s tray.
My fuckin’ panties! Piss! I KNEW I put panties on this morning!
The brunette leaned closer and rapidly whispered. “I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing, but I have to tell you that I’ll lick the message off those if you ask me to.”
Nicki stared at her, then looked again at the panties. Wow. Hot bit of trickery. But I’m not dancing to someone else’s tune. She flicked her wrist at the stew. “Go away.”
The attendant gratefully vanished to the front of the airplane.
Nicki gave the panties a closer look. Sliced in two places. There were tiny words written in red lipstick on the backside. She chewed her lip.
‘Only a fool tests the depth of the water with both feet. Witch is right about danger from the River. The Dragon always has a bolt hole. Come back in one piece.’
“Damn,” she whispered. She glanced around first class. Watching me? On the plane with me? Or prepared before I took off? Kicky mystery.
She tucked the panties in her purse. Think. Someone heard us at the penthouse. Someone who wants the Dragon offed but isn’t going to do it themselves. Could be the Witch fucking with my head. But how did she get my panties? Piss! How did anyone get my panties? That’s friggin’ impossible.
She frowned. The Witch? Probably not after all. Spider? Maybe. One of the ‘invisibles’, like Rat? Yeah. That makes sense. Not a fighter. Someone who’s scouted Hong Kong already and was slick enough to listen outside the apartment door. We were too confident no one knew what was going on.
Piss! My secret admirer has to be on the plane with me. The control of the girl was too precise. Well, I have twenty-five minutes until landing, and my admirer is stuck in this flying box until then.
She slipped the tear-gas out of her purse and into her palm for the added confidence. I could get really ballsy and use the River on everybody on the plane. The one who resists is the culprit. Umm. Really brassy idea, but I don’t think I could manage that in the time left.
Do I have any reason to confront a cornered Rat? No. Dumb. The Dragon is what I’m after.
Nicki signaled the stewardess when she came by. “I’ve got a message for you to take back.”
The brunette blushed and forced a smile. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Nicki grinned and pushed into the woman’s eyes. “Give me your panties, sweetie. You’re going to be a bare-assed courier.”
The flight attendant leaned closer and moaned softly. “Oh. I. Just. Can’t.”
Nicki leaned closer to her and pushed a tad more. “Oh. You just can’t wait. Do it now.”
The brunette shivered. “Just. Can’t. Wait. Yes.” She glanced up and down the small area of first-class. A very quick hand went up the front of her skirt while she edged closer to Nicki. A finger hooked in the waistband and black panties came sliding down.
They hit the floor and the attendant toed them to Nicki. The brunette backed quickly into the aisle.
Nicki didn’t release her eyes. “You liked that, it was naughty. I won’t tell a soul. Wait a moment.”
Her face crimson, the attendant nodded and stood in the aisle.
The flight attendant moved back into coach class. Her flushed face and dazed eyes were unnoticed by tired travelers.
She stopped at the last seats in the plane. She hesitated then bent down and whispered. “Hi. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to disturb you. I—oh, god—this is so naughty. I have a return message for you.” She dropped black panties on the gray-haired woman’s lap, turned quickly and moved back up the aisle.
Nicki Barclay nodded to herself, peering down the plane from first-class. She resumed her seat.
Sweet blood. This pale dove is a wonder for her years. I like her style. Even if I have misgivings that she is the one to face the Dragon. She just chanced a confrontation to learn who sent the message.
He entered the River. The angry roar taken up outside the plane was merely an echo of his agony. The air chariot was in terrific motion. The aircraft forced him through the River in a stinging swarm of anguish. Everything in the plane took on the haze of blood and fire. He stepped up on his seat and bent low, walked the seat tops back to the gray-haired matron he had selected as a blind for the stewardess to use, just in case the pale dove plumbed the stew’s mind.
He snatched the black panties from the frozen fingers of the gaping matron and made his pained journey back to his seat. He slid down into the cushions, slipped from the River, and let mundane time resume.
His clothes were scalding and his muscles ached with his years. He sighed and looked at the panties and read the lipsticked words.
‘Do something more useful than stealing underwear. Get Old Knife. Get Leviathan.’
Father Knife’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. Not a dove, this child, but a hawk. So from the mouths of babes. I can’t survive Hong Kong, but might the Deep One answer my call? Would he take the Dragon to task? Thank you, pale hawk. I always work best with a challenge.
He settled back into his seat.
“Awaken, Tapestry. We need to talk.”
Her eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but bulky golden cuffs held her wrists and ankles. Her neck was tight with a worn gold collar shackled to the headboard. She could turn her head with effort. She hissed.
A small chuckle answered from the shadows.
A tiny naked figure turned from the window and regarded her from flinty amber eyes. The white-haired woman was under five-foot in height, slender, very long hair, snow-white lashes and brows. She wore a stylized makeup; green eyelids, carmine lips and nipples. Her face and body were bleached with rice powder; four very slight breasts on her slender torso and their hard scarlet nipples at swollen attention. Her strange beauty was maimed; her forearms severed at the elbows. The Ruined Dragon had no hands. The skin at the elbows was well-healed.
I didn’t foresee this. Tapestry used her Arts to slow her heart and calm herself. “Greetings, Dragon.”
“Greetings, Young Dreamer. I have a place for you in my court. This is an honor. There is only one of the Blood that I will suffer to live past what happens soon. You, Tapestry.”
She smiled; shook her head. “Thank you, Dragon. I must decline.”
The Ancient drifted closer. She smiled. “You are not well, Young Dreamer. You have much to lose. Much you cannot protect at this time. You have been injured. You will not heal well with the River so angry. I can show you secrets of strength.”
“No.” Tapestry whispered. “I am not able to accept your offer. I must refuse.”
The old eyes twinkled with hidden meaning. “I make my offer a third time, as these matters were done in an age that you have only seen in your dreams. Be welcome to my court, take a place at my feet, and turn away from these tainted affections. You may keep your pet, Jack.”
Tapestry shivered. Her breathing stopped. Staring into those deep bright amber glints, she could not remember how to breathe. She shook her head weakly, but found her tongue numb and swollen; her tongue stiff with longing. My tongue preparing itself for dwelling forever in the delta shrine of the Dragon’s—. No. No. NO!
“N-n-no.” Tapestry croaked. The mountain of pressure on her mind vanished—but dark images of the Dragon’s twisted relationship with the River remained.
“Char-skinned trash,” hissed the placid face above her. “The others will die and then I will come for you. I, who have swallowed my own grandfather, cannot be stopped by the likes of you. But you shall not die, Tapestry. You shall live in my court, at my feet, and you shall serve to undo the humans and their clever toys. You shall squat on the River as I have shaped it and you will never be satisfied with anything else. Your yoni will be stretched to fit the Beast. You shall not have the release of the Ghula. I will care for you well and you will be my crystal pool reflecting tomorrow. This is the fate you have cheated death for, Eye of Yesterday.”
Tapestry’s blood was ice. “I know what this is. I know this is Dreamtime. You are not here.”
A chill wind shattered the windows of the room and swirled about them both.
“Really? Am I not?” The Ruined Dragon laughed like bells of chaos. “Then explain this—.”
The Horror stepped back two paces and kicked a heavy object onto Tapestry’s injured chest. It landed hard on her wounded ribs. The Dragon’s laughter merged with the icy wind.
Tapestry screamed into the face of Jack’s severed head on her chest.
Tapestry sat up screaming.
Jack Kepp jerked, gasped and spilled the food tray he was setting over her lap. In astonishment, he grabbed her shoulders hard. She wailed—her eyes wide and blank.
“Tapestry!”
Her eyes rolled up and she collapsed. He felt her pulse, looked at her bandages. Her ribs. Sod! Blood! She’s busted her stitches.
He settled her limp form. “Gallant! Call the ambulance!”
He held her in his arms and smelled the warm blood soaking her gauze dressings.