Rise (War Witch Book 1) (81 page)

Damp, they held each other as the lamp burned low, the dark a welcoming thing as they gasped for breath. Somewhere, Izra found the strength to raise her head, finding Ramora's lips and claiming them eagerly. Wrapped in the smell of her, the warrior let herself belong only to her.

"Done?" Izra finally managed.

Ramora shook her head, rolling her over so she covered the Elf.

"Thank the Gods," she whimpered. "I was really hoping not."

Chuckling silently, Ramora wrapped arms around her waist as her lips burned a hot trail across the Elf's body, paying special attention to her beautiful breasts, captivated by them for some time. Izra trembled, moaning, hands in her hair, soft pleas not to stop floating in the air with gossamer wings.

When she finally pulled herself away, Ramora began a slow journey down, the scent of the Elf's heat making her dizzy with lust. Shaking like a leaf, Izra urged her on, unable to think of anything but that.

When she arrived, Ramora lingered, much to her lover’s delight.

They made it last till the dawn.

CHARA CAME TO SLOWLY,
drifting awake from a pleasant dream about things that made her feel warm and flushed as she opened her eyes. Stretching, she curled against the pillow she was cuddling in her sleep, allowing herself to drift, pert breasts floating through her mind for a moment more.

She blinked. Pert breasts? Easing herself up, she looked around, realizing she wasn't where she normally was when she woke up. It took a moment to recognize Rayne's loft. Plus, she was in Rayne's bed. Naked. Dreaming of pert breasts.

"Oh, not again," she groaned, collapsing back. "Seriously, I can't even keep my legs together in my sleep."

Closing her eyes, she sighed. The bed did feel good, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd woken up feeling so rested. Besides, it wasn't like she found the little Half Elf unattractive. Quite the opposite, when she really considered it.

Rested wasn't the only thing she'd woken up feeling. She was alone, though, making her wonder where Rayne was. She could see the small kitchen was empty, the bathroom as well, the curtain that marked it off left open.

She didn't remember that. Come to think of it, she didn't remember getting out of the tub, either. Last thing she did recall was after Rayne had slid in behind her, washing her hair, then things had gotten a little touchy feely.

She felt her body flush with heat again. No wonder she'd woken up randy. Closing her eyes again, she could bring back the feel of the Spellweaver's body against her, breasts brushing her back, those wonderfully stiff nipples grazing over her skin.

Chara moaned softly, her hand drifting lower to encourage her imaginings of what she hoped had happened next. It bothered her she couldn't quite remember. Rayne had been holding her, talking softly in her ear as she'd stroked the Half Elf's leg. There'd been a few timid kisses, she remembered that.

Her hand worked slowly at the thought. It had been like magic, which sort of made sense, as Rayne was a mage and all. Her hands had slid up, cupping, teasing, fingers lightly pinching, then, nothing. The rest was a blank. That was annoying in the least.

Chara frowned, then filled in the blanks herself, finding her own release, since she was without the woman she'd obviously shared a bed with. Hadn't she? As her body clenched, soft cries of pleasure slipping from her lips, she tried to remember it, but couldn't.

Panting a little, she lay there for a while as the sunlight filtered in past the curtains. They must have. Why else would she be asleep in her bed, in the morning, when it had been early afternoon when she'd gotten there?

If they hadn't, then Chara realized she'd just gotten herself off in another person’s bed, which was kind of weird.
Check that
, she corrected,
for normal people, kind of weird. For me, probably can go with average.

Pulling herself up, she padded across the floor to the bathroom and cleaned herself up. Casting about, she couldn't see her clothes anywhere, then noticed Rayne had a one of those little auto-washers she'd heard of, but never seen before now. Checking it, she found her cotton shirt and the leather pants she'd had on the day before, both clean and dry.

"Gotta get me one of these things," she mumbled as she tugged them on, looking around for her boots. Finding them under the couch, for some reason, she sat and laced them, spotting her gun belt rolled up in a chair.

She sat there for a bit, wondering about the previous day. Maybe she was going crazy, running around without a thought, throwing herself at random people's crotches. That wasn't a sane thing for a person to do, was it?

Mastiff had said it wasn't abnormal for a person who had experienced true battle, or the loss of friends. Still, she wondered if she'd been thinking at any point in the day, or just moving, on automatic.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slow, then nodded. "New day. Forget the past, move to the future. Just act like it never happened. Even though that part with me playing with myself in Rayne's bed happened today, technically speaking, but I'm gonna call that a yesterday thing anyway. Yeah. Yesterday thing."

Strapping on her gun belt, she headed downstairs, looking for either Rayne or Guido. Not that the mobile trash pile could tell her where the Half Elf had gone, but at least he would be company till she returned. After a fashion. Chara wondered when her sense of normal had gone on a permanent vacation.

Downstairs, the shop was dark, but she could hear an odd hissing sound coming from the workshop. Pushing the door open, she spotted the Spellweaver standing by her workbench, draped in Mastiff's coat and nothing else, her goggles in place. In front of her, held by a vice attached to the bench, was a long, wide sword with green, glowing, runic writing down the center of the blade. Rayne hunkered over it, a small gout of intense blue flame coming from her finger as she traced the sword’s edge, leaving it red hot. A few feet away, Guido tried in vain to clean the floor, rolling around leaving tracks in the thick dust.

So, this is what a normal morning is like around here
, Chara thought, leaning on the door frame to watch the slender little Half Elf work, admiring her warmly.
A gal could get use to waking up like this every day.

Okay, that was a weird thought
, she admitted.
Where did that come from?

The hissing stopped as Rayne pulled her hand back, shaking the flame away while she leaned in, giving the edge of the blade a long look. Seeming satisfied, she straightened up, stretching her back, getting a loud pop from it as she drooled a little. Chara couldn't help but giggle at it.

Rayne snapped around, stared at her for a moment, then smiled, looking completely mad in the coat and goggles. "Mornin', sleepy head. How you feelin'?"

"Better, thanks," Chara nodded. "Though, I've got to ask if we, you know, got more intimate last night?"

Rayne's smile faded. "You don't remember?"

"Yeah, not really," she said, feeling a little embarrassed. "I recall us kissing in the tub, then everything sort of goes black."

"The most amazing night of my life, and you don't remember it?" Rayne whimpered, lip quivering. "The best sex I've ever had, and you don't remember it?"

Chara turned bright red. "I'm so sorry, Rayne. It's probably just because of that Ogre whiskey. It'll come back to me."

"That'd be neat, since I'm screwing with you," the Half Elf laughed.

Chara buried her face in her palm, then sighed heavily. "Of course you are. Naturally. I forgot for a minute who I was dealing with."

"That's not to say it wouldn't have ended up there the way things were going," the Spellweaver told her. "But, you conked out. Fell dead to the world just as I was getting ready to make my big move. Not that I'm insulted or anything, which I totally am, of course, but you'd had a rough day, so it's understandable that you'd be sleepy, even though I was bringing my A game, which has, in the past, so you know, been rated triple A."

Blinking at the rapid fire barrage of nonsense, Chara rubbed her face. "There a reason we're back to you acting crazy?"

Rayne paused a moment as she prepared to release the vice. "Yeah. I almost broke a rule last night, cause it's you. I guess I'm feeling defensive."

"What rule?" the young woman asked. "Defensive? I don't understand."

Rayne sighed heavily, flopping over to her and putting a hand over her right eye. "I never sleep with people who aren't who they think they are. That's a rule I have. Your face is still wrong. So's your voice. You aren't you yet. I can't sleep with you until you are. When you're you, I will, but not till then. Got it?"

"Not even a little," Chara admitted.

Rayne bobbled her head. "Yeah, well, don't worry about it. There's always the chance I really am just insane."

"I don't buy that for a minute," Chara retorted.

Rayne shrugged, looking absurd in the oversized coat. "Can't be helped. That's just the way it is. Cookies, crumbling, that sort of thing."

Growing annoyed, Chara barked at her. "It would be really nice if you'd stop being ridiculous for a minute and just talk to me, Rayne."

The Half Elf hopped back to the bench as she said it, then paused. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Rayne, please, don't shut me out like this," Chara pleaded. "You're the only thing in my life right now that feels stable and sane. I don't know why, or even how that makes sense, but there it is. I need you, and you promised you'd be there for me. Please, stop this."

Rayne stood still for a bit. "Have you ever heard the Elven theory of twin souls?"

Slumping, seeing the Spellweaver wasn't going to relent, Chara shook her head. "No, I haven't."

"The story goes that everyone is born with only half a soul," she said, voice soft and low. "The other half of that soul is born to someone else. The two halves, separated, feel empty and lost, without even knowing why. They spend their whole lives searching for each other, because only together can they feel complete. When they meet, they know. They don't need logic, or reason. It doesn't have to make sense. They just know. They balance each other, you see, and together, they make a complete person. Until they find each other, though, no matter what they do, they feel incomplete, deep down, like they don't really understand who they are. That's the story of twin souls."

Chara realized she was holding her breath and let it out slowly. Something in her tone, the way she stood, made her sad. Like she should be holding the little Half Elf.

"I can't talk to you properly right now. I'm sorry," the Spellweaver said after a minute. "My heart hurts too much. You aren't you, and I don't know why, and I don't like it. Please, be you now. I've waited so long. It isn't fair to make me wait any more. Please, be my angel now."

"I..." Chara stammered.

Rayne waved her arms about, making the sleeves dance. "It's just superstition, silly goose. I'm screwing with you again. I do that a lot."

Not believing her for a second, Chara wondered what she'd meant by it all. Feeling sad for no reason she could find, she sagged against the door frame, watching the Half Elf take the sword from the vice.

"Taa daa!" Rayne declared, whipping it about. "The sword you requested, my ladyship!"

Chara swallowed her confusion and sadness. She stepped forward, putting a smile on. "Did you make that overnight?"

"No," the Spellweaver snorted. "I'm awesome, but not ultimate level awesome. I had it laying around. It needed to be sharpened, and I wove a lattice into it, but I didn't forge it overnight, silly."

"Sorry," Chara replied sarcastically. "Forgive me for paying you a compliment."

"I will, this time," the Half Elf huffed, pointing the sword at her. "Next time, you'll have to get on your knees, though."

"Uh," Chara snickered.

"Pervert," Rayne groused.

"Says the girl wearing nothing but a coat," Chara shot back with a grin.

Rayne looked down. "No wonder it was so drafty."

Shaking her head at the woman’s antics, Chara motioned for the sword. "Show me what you wove in."

"Right!" Rayne trumpeted, dropping the hilt in her hand with a great deal of fanfare, which was mostly Guido clattering a lot.

"It's light," Chara commented, hefting it easily.

"That was the first trellis, yeah," Rayne said. "It weighs about half what it should, which is something, since bastard swords are typically heavy."

"Bastard sword?" Chara sighed. "Did you really have to go there?"

"I did," Rayne replied with a snicker. "The thing is, dumpling, a bastard sword is made for hacking. It's long and wide enough that you can use it defensively if you have to, but heavy enough that you can really whale on somebody with it."

"Yeah, but you made it lighter," Chara pointed out.

"Only to you," the Spellweaver said with small wave of her hand. "Whatever you hit with it, will get the proper brunt."

"That's pretty cool," Chara admitted.

"Just wait, you haven’t seen the special prize inside!" Rayne whooped. "Hold out your hand and open it."

The young woman gave her a dubious look. "I'll drop it."

"Just do what I say," the Half Elf grinned.

Not sure this was wise, Chara held her arm out, and opened her hand. The sword stayed attached to her palm. She gaped at it in wonder.

"It cannot be disarmed," the Spellweaver said, reaching out to slap the blade down, sending the sword spinning around over the back of her hand to end up where it'd been.

"That is the most awesome thing I've ever seen," Chara said softly, slapping the blade herself just to watch it spin around again.

"You make it let go by thinking about it," Rayne told her.

The sword fell from her hand instantly, making her jump half out of her skin. "I thought you said I had to think of it!"

"You did think of it when I said it," Rayne shrugged. "It'll take a little practice, but you'll get it down. Now, the last thing you need to know about it. Guido! Fetch my big iron!"