Reality Falling (The Book Wielder Saga 2) (14 page)

“Winston,” he said dryly. “I guess you’re in charge of the Shadow Circle now, huh?”

“I guess I am,” Winston said sadly.

Kaine said nothing for moment but just took a thoughtful drag on his cigar. “Drink?”

“Please,” Winston said, taking a seat opposite him.

Kaine poured him a glass of vodka from a fresh bottle. “Nasty business, this.”

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Winston said remorsefully.

“Those Trinity fucks can be devious bastards. I thought the Capital was secure?”

“So did I,” Winston said. “I guess they’ve got more hidden Catacomb entrances than we thought.”

Kaine hummed an acknowledgment; Winston thought it had an unsatisfied hint to it.

“All set to take Tropica?” Kaine asked.

Winston was surprised at how awkwardly the conversation was flowing, but then Kaine had known Lucius for a very long time. “Yeah, but I’m on my way to see Lynette and Kavarne before any more crazy battles.”

“That was some fight,” Kaine said, his tone picking up slightly. “That Foreman is a sight to behold.”

“Isn’t he just,” Winston agreed. “The city should be more than secure with him and the Sherriff around.”

“So you’re still committed to all this then?” Kaine asked.

The question took Winston by surprise. “Well... yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Kaine thought about it and then shook his head. “I’m with you kid, really I am, but just watch out for the Archmage. People who want to be the de facto ruler of the world don’t tend to have a high regard for people they think are beneath them. I’m not saying he’s out to screw you – just watch your back, yeah?”

Winston finished his vodka in one go. “I will, thanks.” He went to leave but stopped at the door in thought. A lot of people didn’t trust Omniosis and he could see their reasons. Winston shared his goals, but reading between the lines, he did seem to display a lack of empathy for his underlings, and even his partners. “If you’ve got any concerns or problems then contact me. Straight to me, right?”

Kaine smiled, seeing that his point had gotten across. “I will, kid. You take care of yourself, and give my best to Lynette and Kavarne.”

Winston nodded. “Thanks Kaine, I will.”

Winston left the building wondering if he was truly on the right path. He felt like he was
meant
to merge the worlds and restore the planet to its rightful state, like there was some unknown force at the back of his mind telling him that it was his destiny. But did that mean the Archmage had to be a part of it, and if it turned out that he was bad news then would they be able to deal with him? He didn’t know what to do, and with the shock of all the recent losses still fresh in his mind, he decided to leave things as they were for now. He would keep a close eye on Omniosis and discuss his options with his beloved Veronica when he got back. Maybe she’d be able to help him figure things out. For now, he would ‘borrow’ a nice sports car from an intact garage and start making his way up to Highway One.

- - -

Kitaria Catawowski headed to the top radio room of the news tower quickly. She’d been told by her people that Lewis from Imperia City wanted to chat to her. She hoped it was on the behalf of the Archmage. Out of all the pointless insignificant people in the world, it was nice to finally meet someone that mattered as much as she did.

The building hadn’t suffered much during the attack. There was the odd crack in the wall and ceiling plaster here and there, but the interior had taken a right beating when she’d stormed in with her gang members and killed all the human cowards hiding inside. Now the Anarchy’s Ascendants initiates were busy repairing things, cleaning up gore and removing dead bodies. Albert Tiberius wasn’t pleased with her, ranting about how it damaged their rep and how he’d need to put together another news team, but she didn’t give a flying fuck. Humans were a lower life form and the Supernaturals were above them, treading their stupid little faces into the dirt. Only an idiot would think otherwise.

She picked up the receiver as soon as she got in the door, barging one of her gang out of her way without thinking twice. “Yeah, who is it?”

“This is Lewis Thorne from the Capital. Is that
pussy
cat?”

“It’s Kitty Cat, or Kat, and if you don’t stick to those I’ll come over there and ram that receiver right up your ass!” she replied angrily.

The voice on the other end laughed. “I’m sorry, Kat, I couldn’t resist. And I won’t mention
pussy
again, unless you want me to.”

She smirked. Not many people would try flirting with her after she’d had a proper go at them, and almost all of them belonged in an asylum. “In your dreams, punk.”

“Oh, if I had dreams that good I wouldn’t bother waking up,” Lewis replied back smoothly.

Kat couldn’t believe that the cheeky bastard’s cheesy chat-up lines were actually working on her. She’d have to meet this guy and decide whether to kill him or fuck him, or both. “So Mr Smooth, did you just call me up to make me wet or was there something else you wanted?”

The voice chuckled. “The Boss-man and I have got a little plan brewing and we need your help to pull it off.”

“I’m in,” Kat said quickly. She needed to grab any chance she could get to raise her stock with Omniosis.

“Very eager, we like that,” Lewis said impressed. “We need you to round up some of the refugees and newly homeless-”

“And kill ‘em?” Kat guessed excitedly.

“No. We want you to put them on some of the cargo boats still in the docks.”

“You’re going to just let them go?” she interrupted again angrily.

Lewis chuckled. “My, you are a feisty little kitten, aren’t you? We’re going to let them go, all the way to Orphan Isle... with a nice bunch of heavily armed Alts hiding amongst them.”

“Nice, very nice. And here I am thinking you’d gone all floppy cocked on me,” Kat replied happily.

“I don’t think I could go ‘floppy cocked’ around you, my sexy little psycho.”

She giggled. “You fucking charmer. After we bend the world over and fuck it like a whore, we definitely need to meet up.”

“Only if I can bend you over and fuck you like a whore?” Lewis purred back.

“You got yourself a deal, you smooth-talking little shit-bag,” she said excitedly, before a thought sprung to mind. “Didn’t the Inquisition twats deny the first lot of refugee boats entry? I heard they made them go all the way to Tropica.”

“That’s true, they probably won’t let them in because of the security risk. If they are dumb enough to let them dock then it’s just a bonus.”

“Then why are we doing this?” Kat was confused.

“Because we want you to have some media helicopters nearby to get some good shots of them being blown out of the water.”

Kat cackled like a maniac. “That’s brilliant! Win-win either way, I love it! You tell the Archmage that he can depend on me, Lewis.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll let him know Kat. The Archmage and I are very close, you see.”

“Good. Well, I’ll speak to you soon, horny Lewis Thorny,” Kat said eagerly. She couldn’t wait to start rounding the deadweight humans up and shipping them out.

“Tell us when you are done. See you later, sexy.” Then the line went dead.

Kat headed to the dockyards with a squad of her best people. She couldn’t let anything go wrong, and started forcefully moving groups of the human men, woman, and children onto some of the vessels that were still docked there. Afterwards, she’d get the Sheriff, the cowboy Alt that seemed to have a giant stick up his ass, to gather up some cannon-fodder Alts, get them dressed up in civvies, and hide amongst the humans.

The psychotic leader of the Anarchy’s Ascendants smiled wickedly. Things were about to get real messy.

-
- -

The man struggled pointlessly as he tried to free himself from the wooden rack. He was laying on a cold wooden surface, completely naked and spread wide like a frog being pinned down ready for dissection. The straps he was trying to break out of were enchanted to keep a Supernatural in place, so the poor man’s escape attempts were definitely futile.

The room was cold and dark. Only a single bright yellow light bulb hanging directly above his head gave any illumination, and it hurt the man’s eyes to look directly up for too long. The walls were bare orange and brown brickwork, and the air was musty and dank.

He heard delicate footsteps. “Who’s there?” he asked nervously, his voice and body shaking tremendously.

“Someone who wants answers,” a female voice said from the dark edges of the room.

The man listened to the sounds of metal clanking on metal and then the faint noise of squeaking wheels. He tried to get a look at his captor but it sounded like they were now behind him.

“Please, please let me go, I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!” he pleaded frantically.

“You might not have done anything wrong, but that’s what we’re here to find out,” the feminine voice said firmly.

The man whimpered in response.

Veronica stepped out of the shadows beside him and the man’s eyes went wide at the sight of her. She was wearing a pair of long leather boots, fishnet stockings, lace elbow-length gloves, and a tiny leather corset that left her pale massive breasts, large nipples and trimmed black pubic hair fully exposed. Her hair had been pulled into a long tightly bound ponytail, and she had black lipstick, thick eye shadow, and lengthening mascara on. Her red eyes gleamed with dark intent. She was looking hotter than hell in her dominatrix gear but the poor man was far from aroused, especially when his eyes focused on the scalpel in her hand.

The news of Lucius’ death had hit her like a truck. Veronica was completely and utterly devastated, and to make matters worse, Winston was over on Desem when she could have really used his love and support. But instead of breaking down, she focused her emotional state on her investigation. Something wasn’t right about the story Lewis had told her – something wasn’t right about Lewis – and if the theory that was brewing in her mind was correct, she would soon be in mortal danger.

Veronica had asked around as slyly as she could and the picture that she’d been painted definitely seemed off to her, but there was only so much information she could get by asking seemingly innocent questions and doing a bit of inconspicuous Bloodmage mind-skimming. She had to step it up a notch, and quickly. She had to start some interrogations, and so she had secretly set up shop in one of the Shadow Circles old torture rooms. The information gathering hadn’t been going well so far, but then she’d only just begun that night. Veronica had accidentally stumbled across something from her last ‘guest’ that had sent a shiver down her spine. She hoped this receptionist wouldn’t be the same.

“Please,” he whimpered.

She shushed him by placing a finger gently on his lips. “Where were you the night that Lucius died?”

“Erm... at work, the hotel, I was at the hotel!” he burbled.

“Did you see Lucius that night?” she asked politely.

The man hesitated. “I don’t know, I think so... I don’t know, I can’t remember! Please let me go.”

Veronica tutted at him like a disappointed school teacher. “I’m going to need you to remember better than that.” She climbed up on the rack and kneeled in-between his spread legs, toying with the scalpel playfully. “You were on the reception desk that night, weren’t you?”

“Yes... yes I was – but then so was Frank, you should ask him, he’s got a better memory than me, he always has done,” the man said frantically, shaking with fright.

“Oh, I did ask Frank,” Veronica began playfully. “He wasn’t as talkative as you, but then I hope you’re not going to be that stupid.”

“Oh Goddesses have mercy on me, please save me!” he prayed desperately.

Veronica chuckled evilly. “They’re not going to save you, honey. They’re not even really Goddesses, but we won’t go into that. I have a proposition for you,” she purred sexily.

The man was still panicked. “What- what do you mean?”

“Well,” she said, waving the scalpel from side to side in his line of vision. “I can either make this very nasty for you...”

Veronica quickly slashed the scalpel across his stomach. It was only a surface wound, but the man squealed like a little girl. Fresh red blood oozed from the thin line she’d drawn across his flesh. She smiled, for that was what she had wanted to see. She lowered her head and moved her body forward, making sure that her chest brushed against his cold flaccid penis as she licked along the wound with her long tongue, sealing it shut with her vampiric saliva.

The man continued praying and whimpering hysterically.

“Or...” Veronica moved herself upwards, dragging her giant firm breasts all the way up his body until she was face to face with him. “I can make this very, very pleasant for you. I just need answers.”

He looked into Veronica’s red sexy eyes, and she could see that behind the fear, he wanted her badly. She pressed her crotch down onto his cock, just the front at first, until she could feel him growing hard against her styled bush. She positioned herself so that the outside of her pussy was rubbing against him. The recent blood drinking made it warm and inviting as she teased him.