If there is one thing I hate more than anything, it’s a conniving bitch, and Shelly is undoubtedly the most conniving bitch I know. Shelly blows a stream of smoke into the air, filling the disgusting woman’s bathroom with just one more thing that has me ready to be free of this Queen’s forsaken place. 

Look at her, standing there naked in what she believes to be all her glory, protected by her bodyguards. It is known that if you can display yourself in this most vulnerable state in front of your enemies, it shows strength. The fact that you are displayed with no defence in front of them, and they are powerless to take advantage, is a common tactic in prison. 

Many try to stop this display, but I am powerless to prove her wrong. Her warriors, unskilled thought they may be, are too numerous to take on in her current form. This is a disgusting show of force. She wants me to know who’s in charge here. 

You can have your prison. I run the largest territory in The Underdark’s capital.

 She may have been my mentor once, but life changes so much in the blink of an eye. 

“I thought the code prevented you from meddling in my affairs?” I speak up. 

“It wasn’t me, Little Bird.” Her voice is still too fucking pretty for a serious mobster. I know better, though. Too many have gone to the abyss for underestimating that about her. 

“Then how the fuck did they get me in chains?” 

“You’ve grown sloppy. I thought I taught you better than that, but I see you could use a refresher.” 

“Bullocks. I run a tight ship. There is no way I would let the fuzz get the drop on me.” 

“I’m not so sure about that. But as you say, it’s none of my concern.” 

“Then why am I here, Shelly?” 

“Because it’s customary that when you enter someone’s turf, you pay homage or bring a gift.” Her lips curl in a beastly way.

“Right, how have I could have forgotten your basket? Shall I run home and fetch it for you?” 

“You don’t get to go home until you go through me,” she says matter of factly. 

“Piss off. I’ll be out of here on the morrow.” 

“Not without my blessing.” The girls around her start to move, but with nothing more than a snap, they take a few steps back. 

“I see the box has started to make you looney, Luv. My lawyers will have me out of here in no time. I’ll be home with enough time  to catch this little charade on the telly.” 

“You would be wise to listen to your elders. They tend to know a thing or two.” Shelly flicks the butt of her cigarette at me. It takes little effort to swat away, but the message of disrespect is there. She flips her short dark grey hair, and her dreadfully plain obsidian skin shimmers as she walks away. Her posse tries to intimidate my girls and me one by one, but we don’t scare easily. 

We never have, and we never will. 

“Do you want me to kill her, Alyssa?” One of my girls asks. 

“No, annoyance though she may be, she’d kill you and most others I could send to her. She’s a tough cookie, that one, a real stickler for the rules. She won’t make a move unless provoked, and we don’t have the numbers to take her on her turf. 

“Besides, My lawyer will have us out of here tomorrow. No need to start an unneeded conflict.” My girls nod in agreement, and we leave once the last of Shelly’s girls have exited. 

Queen’s arse, I hate prisons. 

This is impossible! My lawyer has never not answered my calls, never mind four of them. 

“Move along, inmate. Your time is up.” A guard calls to me, and I know exactly who’s to blame by the tattoo on her forearm. I slam the receiver, and the guard plays her part in warning me with a write up, but I don’t care. That bitch Shelly will pay for fucking with my freedom. 

My girls and I are in lockstep with one another as we march to the other side of the hall and around the corner. Through those double doors and on the other side of the yard, Shelly is there overseeing her operations. 

The smile on her face is telling that she knows what she did. I will personally see to the removal of that smile. Shelly’s dark grey curls hang just above her lavender eyes. Her posture is relaxed in her snuggly fit blood-red jumpsuit. Although everyone wears the same suit, hers seems to fit her more than everyone else. 

One of her soldiers tries to peddle her illicit wares. I have no time for that. Pushing her aside, the group members form a tight formation around us. The way they move is very reminiscent of the palace guards, and one could be forgiven for mistaking this prison for the palace.

The way Shelly wields power and has trained her soldier, the parallels are uncanny.

Doesn’t this take me back?

“What the fuck have you done!” I shout. My girls are close to my back while hers move to encircle us.  

“I told you, Little Bird. The only way out of here is through me.” With a wave of her hand, her soldiers stand on either side of us. They are to either side of us as she sits on her ‘throne’. Giving us a clear path to her. 

“And what is it that you want?” 

“Just a small act of service, nothing too major.” 

“What act of service?” 

“Let me taste your cum, for old time’s sake.” Her girls cause a stir at her suggestion. Of course, that is what she wants. This really did take me back. 

“That part of my life is behind me. Choose another act of service or a price, and I’ll be on my way.” 

“Sorry, Little Bird. I make the rules in my kingdom, just like if I were in your realm, I would follow yours. It’s my way, or you stay.” 

“That’s a bit unreasonable, innit? I’ve never known you to be unreasonable. A bit rash at times, but never without proper rational.” Shelly shrugs. 

“Maybe it’s as you said. The box has made me mad. In any case, that is my price.” 

“There must be something else.” I hate myself for pouring sugar into my words. Maybe it could sway her if she still holds a flame for me. 

“There is not… I do suppose if you wish to stay, you could become my new lieutenant. Marsha here is excellent at her job but not nearly as qualified as you, Guard captain Alyssa Carter.” My old title. Maybe I should indulge her if she insists on living in the past. 

“As much as I appreciate your honour, Palace Guard Michelle Roberts, there must be some price, monetary price that I can pay you. I could give you some of my working girls or one of my soldiers. I have plenty.”  

“I’ve stated my prices. Either you at my command or in my bed. The choice is yours. I’ll give you until tonight to come up with an answer.” 

“Shelly.” 

“I’ve spoken, Little Bird. Now unless I can provide you with some other service, I suggest you leave.” She lowers her eyes. The look she always gives before she strikes.  I would be foolish to think that she has not kept her skills sharp. If she’s ready to strike, then even the six meters between us is not far enough to be safe.” 

Unsure of why I do it, I bow and command my girls to follow. Sure, that is the proper respect of someone of her station. It is a requirement for me when on the city’s south side in my rightful place, but why would I respect her when she’s being so irrational? 

Once we are out of her range, one of my girls speaks. 

“My Lady. I did not know you were once an item with Shelly.” 

“It was a long time ago. She was my … has always been my mentor. Even though she is a conniving bitch, I hold a lot of respect for her.”

  My reputation will not allow me to tell my girls how I really feel about her. It undermines my position to prattle on about my broken heart. Better to show respect to keep face. My girls do not need to suspect anything more than formalities for the woman that outranked me. 

As someone who runs the south side, I don’t owe her any favours, but paying my dues always ensures that I am in the clear with any syndicate members. There is also no reason to let my girls know how much sway she holds over me. They did, after all, believe I was in charge. The way she wields her power in prison is a road map to what I must do if I am to stay here.

However, If I do not wish to stay here. I belong to my southern quarter of the Underdark, and I would not let her deter me from my duties.  

“Once upon a time ago, She used my feelings against me. A time when I was a young girl. It’s history now.” 

“It does not seem so. It seems as if it is still alive and well.” 

“To her, she likes to live in the past. Notice how she called me by my old status.” 

“Yes, My Lady, but your hands are trembling.” Looking at my hands, I mutter a curse under my breath. 

“It’s just the shock of it all.” I shove my hands in my pockets and walk away from the courtyard. 

I need a place to think. 

As is taught to the court wizards, when facing a complex problem, meditation is the best first step. With my girls keeping guard and knowing Shelly will not let anything happen to me for at least the next few hours, I allow myself to go into a trance. 

Allowing the flow of magic in my body to take over, I am in council with all my prior knowledge and experiences. My days at Uni when I studied magic come flashing in. I scan the memories looking for a spell I can perform inside the prison that could help me. Nothing of note comes to mind. 

Next, I scan my military career. Through countless battles and strategic meetings, not one thing comes to mind that is of use. Indeed if I could tamper with the magic dampeners, I could quickly flee, but with the miracle of getting past all of the guards, all of Shelly’s soldiers, bypassing all of the security and sabotaging the generators. It would be easier to just escape on foot. 

Doing so would make me an enemy of the Syndicate. I could not survive going to war with one of the families in my current state. Never mind all six families at once. Even Shelly could send bodies after me because she ran the entire prison. From the Warden all the way down. 

None of that matters because, as the prison proudly displays in its main hall, there has never been a single person to escape its walls. Not even the master assassin Andre Coleman, who helped design its systems, could. My magic is powerful, but my skills pale compared to the hero of the Orcish war. 

In my military memories, one night in particular flashes and then come to a grinding stop. Shelly’s lips press mine while she is between my thighs and me sitting atop her desk. The way she covers me and bites at my neck while my fingers swim in her curls. I push hard at the memory, but it only takes me to another memory of her pulling my legs apart and licking at my wet pussy in a tent before a raid on an encampment of monsters. More focus, and I push further and spring awake. 

Gasping for air, I reach for my neck. 

“My Lady? Are …” 

“I’m fine,” I answer with laboured breaths. I can still feel Shelly clenching my throat as her strap-on penetrates me over and over again. My thighs ignite at how she holds me down and fucks me into sleep for so many nights. Or, on other nights, how I would feel her breast at my back and her hands rubbing my cunt. These occurrences play vividly in my mind. The worst memories are of her tender kisses that always make me surrender to her touch. 

I take a glass of water as it’s handed to me and down its contents. It’s surprisingly refreshing for something in prison, but I understand why that is so. I hand the glass back and wonder why those thoughts came to the front so strongly. Was I truly past her? Was that not what I vowed to myself when I realised I was not the only one? I was one of many, and no sooner than my back was turned would she have another young girl in her chambers. And what was the excuse she used? Right, she was out working late and lost track of time.

Such tired excuse that I am too mature to fall for now, but when young and in love, they sounded plausible. She, of course, was one of the Palace guards, and they were constantly in communication with the palace officials and briefed on court affairs. As Guard Captain, my plate was often times full of rosters, reports, briefings, and the like. And I only managed a small quarter of the city’s south side. 

So being in charge of protecting the whole of the Palace was a taxing job. Obviously not taxing enough. When every new recruit with long, friendly legs ended up in her grasp. 

But wasn’t I one of those? No, I fought off her charms. I did not give myself to her because of her prestige, lies, or money. No, I surrendered to her because of her honour. Something she lost shortly after my eyes were open. 

I mean, how could she try to kill the queen? Sure, the Queen is an outsider. The mere thought of a Lycan taking the throne over a proper Drow is ridiculous, but her duty was always to protect the King and Queen as long as they were appropriately appointed. And we were all there when Queen Sophia handed over power to her son, knowing he was married to Lycan. 

And not only that, but Queen Haku has earned her stripes by fighting in all three wars with the King.  Rage moves me to get up and leave my cell. 

“My Lady, shall we escort you to Shelly’s chambers?” 

“I have plenty of time before that.” 

“Umm,” one girl trails off. 

“What time is it?” 

“It is only two hours before you have to make your decision.” 

“You let me meditate for that long?” 

“You commanded us not to bother you for anything, My Lady.” That was true. That was my command. 

“No, Shelly will not let anything happen to me. I’ll be fine. In my absence, train. I may not be able to persuade her to release us so soon.” 

“You would serve her?” Would I?

“I will appear to if need be. Just long enough to get my Lawyer in here.” 

“Yes, My Lady.” My girls say in unison.” 

The walk to her chambers feels me with a dreadful fright, if I am being honest. I do not show it, though. The prisoners make vast strides to avoid me, even those not aligned with Shelly. Or maybe no one wants to go to war with her. Either way, I have no trouble making it to her cell. Shelly’s soldiers make a path to her cell that looks less like a cell than a normal door. 

The door slides open, and the interior of her cell resembles a nicer three-star hotel than an actual cell. A fair amount of space to move, fully furnished with couches, TVs, a kitchenette, and a private shower. The bars were even removed from the window as she overlooks the cavernous walls of the Underdark, unobstructed and filled with the beauty of the bioluminescent wildlife. 

On the couch facing the door, Shelly sits. To the abyss with that damnable jumpsuit hugging all of her curves. She sits drinking what I can only imagine is some foul prison wine, but the smell seems to be better than that. Her legs are crossed as she gestures for me to sit across from her. Her eyes lowered differently from yesterday. Her lowered eyes explore all of me, and instantly I am transported back to my younger years. 

I sit where I am told, and with as much confidence as I can muster, I play the part of being in control. 

“Moscato?” She gestures to the glass. I shake my head and watch as she refills her glass. “So I take it you’ve made up your mind?” No, I haven’t made up my mind, but as the images of the trance play in my mind, so much didn’t make sense. 

Being young and heartbroken, I never thought to ask her what had happened. I told myself that since she didn’t want to spend anything more than a bed with me, nothing she did was my concern. But as the thoughts fly around in my mind, there is one thing I just have to know. 

“Why did you try to kill the Queen?” 

“I’m sorry. Is this something we talked about that I forgot?” 

“I looked up to you. And as guards, our first duty is to our King and Queen.” She takes another sip. “I’ve never felt more betrayed than when I found that you were arrested for treason for trying to murder the Queen. How could you?” 

“The Queen was… is making the King weak. I figured if I could eliminate her, we would get a strong king again. If I had to sacrifice myself for the good of the Drow people, then so be it. Because our first duty is not to the King, my Little Bird. Our first duty is to the people of our great nation.” 

“That’s Bullocks!” I sit up. “I remember the pledge I made. Our people are chaos wrapped in flesh. It wasn’t until our first great king united us that we were a great people.” 

“And who did that king value more than all others?” 

“The people, but that doesn’t change our pledge.” 

“Maybe not your pledge, but as a Palace guard, our priorities shift. We must always do what is best for the people.” 

“I cannot believe your lies.” 

“My lies?” She repeats slowly as if the words offend her. “When have I ever lied to you?” I cannot help but show anger. My face twisted in disgust. 

“How about all the times you lied about where you were when you were out with other girls.” 

“I never lied to you.”

“What about the other girls?”

“When did I tell you we were exclusive?” I search my memories and can’t think of a time. 

“When you told me that you loved me?” I say regardless. 

“And that was and is still true.” She sets her glass down and starts to unbutton her top. 

“If you love me, then how could there be others?” 

“Easy,” she says, standing and letting the top of her jumpsuit fall to her waist. “You were my love. The others were toys.” 

“Put your suit back on. I’m not done talking to you?” She gets one leg out of her suit, and with the other, she kicks and sends the suit to the far side of the room. That obsidian skin of hers glimmers like the gentle waves of the sea. 

“I’m hot,” she says while her nipples stand erect and point out at me. Her muscles draw a map leading down to her clean-shaven core, and hot flashes of memories pour in as she sits back down, crossing her legs. Picking her glass back up as she continues to sip. 

“Did you not once ever care about my feelings?” 

“Of course I did… do. Why do you think you had a choice? No one else here has a choice in what they do. The warden approves all the prisoners I want and releases those I deem. The guards police the halls according to my laws, not the ones set. And, of course, the prisoners have no choice in what roles they play here. They are either soldiers, consumers, or an actual prisoner on the very rare occasion. Sent to me by the Syndicate.

“But you, my dear, Little Bird. You’ve always had a choice.” 

“I chose to leave tomorrow. No strings attached.” 

“If that is truly what you wish. Fine. I guess I can give you that for our years of misunderstanding. But ask yourself, do you really want to leave without at least a kiss?” 

“What kind of question is that? Of course,” I get up and turn towards the door. 

“Then say it to my face.” I stop at her command. No, her words. She does not command me. This is simply something she said to me. I have no reason to obey. 

I turn on my heels. 

“I just did.”

“No, you said it from across the room. You are free to go, of course, but if you really want to be free of me, as I know you are not. Then you will come over here and tell me you do not desire me to my face.” 

“You’re just as looney as I remember. I have no need to prove anything to you.” 

“Like you didn’t have to ask me about my spat with the queen?” I close the gap between us, but only by half. 

“That has nothing to do with my heart.”

“Doesn’t it? I don’t think one admires someone the way you did me with just your mind.” 

“I did. As a wizard, it is an effortless thing to do.” 

“As a fighter, I can see bullshit anywhere.” 

“As a liar, you think you can trick anyone.” 

“I’ve not tricked you. How could I? The Wizards are far superior in battles of the mind than us warriors.” 

“Because of that silver tongue of yours. You spouted your lies about how I was special, how there was a connection between us, and how your heart fluttered at the mere utterance of my name. All rubbish!” 

“If there were no connection between us, then why are you drawn to me?” 

“I am not!” 

“Little Bird?” She says, pointing with her eyes to the floor. I look and gasp as I am a mere arm’s length away. “I love you, Little Bird. I always have. I can say that with all my heart.” I don’t see her hand reach out, and place my hand on her chest. 

“Alyssa, tell me you do not still love me.” her heartbeat quickens when my name, my real name, leaves her lips, and a shockwave ripples through me. 

“I despise you. I hate that you played with my heart and left me in a world that didn’t have you in it.” 

“Alyssa,” Her heartbeat increases. “Tell me you do not want me.” 

“I dreamed for years of forgetting you. You and all of your lies and your false promises.” 

“Alyssa, Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.” 

“I want to be free of you, Shelly. Let me.” She kisses me. I push her away, and with fire in my eyes, I slap her. I slap her again, and again, and again. Shaky breaths leave me, and I start to turn away from her, but I can’t. Before I can fully turn away, I glance back at her and see her calm stare. I lean in and kiss her, cupping her face and tasting her mouth that tastes of cherries.  

Queen’s breath! If it wasn’t for the magic dampeners, I would swear she is using a spell to heat her skin. In an instant, her hand is around my throat. A flood of emotions overpowers me as I bend to her touch. I mount her, and her arms wrap around me. 

One second, my hands are behaving. The next, they swim in those dark curls of hers. One second, I’m clothed, and the next, a combination of hands strip me of anything that can keep her skin away from mine. One second I’m in control and only allowing myself the slightest taste of her. The next, our lips crash into each other with the wild abandon of my youth. 

Picking me up, she carries me to the bed. Her beautiful body, though filled with danger and power, gracefully moves up my body with white-hot little kisses counting down to my own demise. The look in her lavender eyes cracks years of practised resentment for this woman, but her lips, kiss by kiss, knock down those walls. 

I feel the pressure of her fingers entering me. I reach to stop her, but when her fingers move in waves that press at my g-spot, only guttural sounds leave instead of my level-headed words of reason. Free from trying to stop her pumping fingers, my hands land on her breast and abs. Roaming the fields of soft mounds of pleasure and strong, smooth muscles that move in unison with our bodies, and they meld together in passion. Those pumping fingers blur my mind to madness until the only intelligible sound that I can make is her name rolling off of my lips.

“Don’t,” I gulp a big breath, “don’t make me cum.” I manage to say. My protest is met with passionate kisses that send my rationale to the furthest recesses of my mind. I know that if she makes me cum I will be right back at her side. If she makes me cum, my heart will refill with all the love I’ve willfully ripped from my heart. If she makes me cum, I will, I will.

“I don’t. Want you. To make.” Too late. My body arches as an orgasm rushes out of me, destroying carefully built walls. In one hot flash of an instant, years of progress are destroyed. Carefully constructed steps to protect my heart are gone as if they never existed. Destroying progress like a massive wrecking ball smacking into a small fortress. 

Her fingers don’t stop pumping. More and more, my body melts for her, especially when she bites down on my breast. The scrap of her teeth causes my brain to forget the function of my lungs as I scramble for air. 

I take a huge breath, trying my hardest to fight for some type of control, but when her hand moves and she moves my leg to allow herself between me. I feel her flower on mine, and she starts rocking her hips into mine. My head flings back, pushing into the pillow. The gentle feel of her hair tickling at my cheek while her body moves to rub against my wet pussy. She cups my breast, pinching and biting at my ear as I hold onto her through another orgasm. 

The low growl she produces when she cums sends a vibration through me, invigorating me to move to her tempo. I pull her hair and yank her neck down to my lips as I bite her hard as we go faster and faster. I can’t hold back the chain explosions when her hand finds mine and locks with it pressing it into the bed while moaning loudly. 

Our bodies seize as we share an orgasm, and no sooner than we have control, our lips press into a passionate kiss as she rolls over behind me and pulls me into her making her the big spoon. I have no energy to fight her as her hand trails in circles on my stomach until she reaches my waist and pulls me as close as possible. 

She plants soft kisses all across my shoulder blade and stops for one long press. I moan at the gesture. 

“Little Bird,” There is a heavy sign behind her saying that. “I did lie to you once.” I find the energy to face her. Watching her eyes fill with something akin to regret. “I did not try to kill the Queen.” I search her eyes for telling signs of her lying. “I was ordered to take charge of the prison so that I could infiltrate the Syndicate. In order to do that, I had to go along with the story that I tried to assassinate her but was spared because the gods favour me. While true, the Gods do favour me. It is because it’s a plan that was constructed by the God of Death.” Her words hit me hard as I search all the facts and see how that connects everything that has never made sense. 

“The plan worked twofold. It scared off the syndicate from trying any assassination plots for several years because of my renown in planning and skills with a sword. No one dared challenge the Queen if she could best me. And with the Syndicate believing I was on their side, they recruited me after I proved myself in prison. The syndicate now pays me for accomplishing the mission given to me by the King. Keeping the prison population either under control by me or in so much chaos they do not have time to start trouble for the rest of the population.”

“But it is said that no one can escape. Even Andre Coleman couldn’t escape, and he helped build it.” 

“Tell me, did you consider escape an option from me?” 

“No.” 

“And why?” 

“So it is escapable?” 

“Not under my watch, it isn’t. There are a couple of ways that the system can be exploited, but it would take someone with S-tier bounty hunter skills, the know-how of the system, and a lot of luck to get past me and my elite guards posted throughout the prison.”

“So if you are in control and still an active member of the Palace guard, was it really your doing that brought me here?” 

“I told you I only lied to you once. You have a mole in your organisation.” 

“Do you know who?” 

“Yes, everything you need to know is in a folder on by the computer. I was going to give it to you either way when you left. I planned on making it anonymous, but no need to hide it any longer.”

“So, did you mean for me to join the syndicate?” 

“No, I had hoped that you would stay a guard captain. I hoped you would work your way up the ranks until you made your way to Palace guard and would have learned this from the King.”

“It’s too late for that now,” I say, thinking back on the long list of crimes I’ve committed in the following years from my resignation. 

“Not exactly. The Palace Guards are still in need of people in the Syndicate. Knowing that you were truly a part of them and have been for years, and with my recommendation, you could make your way back into the good graces of the Palace.” 

“Seriously?” 

“It won’t be easy, and they will test your loyalty, but if I put in a word to the Palace, they will contact you as soon as you are back in your compound.” 

Coming to Shelly’s room, I thought my choices were becoming one of her soldiers or bedding her just to satisfy her selfish ego. But the actual decision is to follow the lonely path of the new life I’ve built without her, where I am a top-ranking member of an organisation that values my ability to produce money which I am good at.

Or to return to my old life, pledging my allegiance to my King, Queen, and country and protecting the people of this country from people like those who accepted me when I was at my lowest. But also to continue a life with the first and only person I have ever loved. 

“If I return to my post as a guard, will I have you back?” She grabs my face and kisses me. 

“Alyssa. You never lost me.” 

“Will you be loyal to me?” I feel a tear form. She wipes it away and kisses where it nearly formed. 

“If that’s what it takes for you to come back. Gladly.” 

What choice do I even have?

• A Bloody Start
• A Song of Passion
• For Good Girls(NSFW)
• Broken Promises
• Making Decisions

This bitch set me up! Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to be a cop. Fuck! Alyssa is a dead bitch when I see her.
This was supposed to be a simple hit. White SUV was supposed to pull up at this fake meetings spot, and I drop them when they jump out. It wasn’t supposed to be a guy and he wasn’t supposed to be a fucking cop. It was supposed to be Queenie.
No wonder Alyssa isn’t answering her fucking phone, she wants me to go down, but for what? I’ve been loyal to that bitch, and this is how she treats me? I’ll make sure she gets hers, but for now, I have to lay low.
The SUV is already gone, that fucking waitress on 6th with the green hair took him to the hospital. If it wasn’t for the car pulling up the ally I would have reloaded and got both of them. Fuck, this is not my night.
Alright, calm down Rodrick, no one saw me, I doubt even that waitress saw me. I just need a place to go until this blows over. I’ve already picked up the shells, so there was no other evidence.
Fuck!
I touched his wallet. I need to get that wallet. If I can make it to the hospital and find out what room he’s in, I can get the bag of his belongings. The closest trauma center is only about two miles from here. I can get in and get out before he wakes up.
Wait, that hospital is Thomason memorial. They have clerics on staff. Fuck! He’ll be up in no time. What am I going to do? I need to think, I need to get off of the street, I need to build an alibi. Where am I? Yes, Valeria works over here. She should be working.
It’s not the best plan, but she’s never told me no before.
I jog to the car I stole and play it cool cruising down the street. Luckily the person who owned this car has a newer car with an aux cable. If I had to listen to their stupid country songs from their stations I would toss this car and get another.
Since the police haven’t shown up yet, it’s a smooth ride to Vickie’s Soulfood. While I’m here I could grab something to eat. With the day I’ve had, a nice soul plate with mac and cheese could really hit the spot. My stomach speaks up a little bit to second the thought. I park on the side of the road and look as natural as anyone else on the busy street.
Vickie’s always smells good. The bright and humble restaurant has real soul food unlike many of the others across the city. Since it’s so humble it’s a good place to show my face. A lot of people here know me from a past life when I was more than a gun for hire. When I was the star quarterback in high school. When I was the man in Valeria’s life.
I say my hi’s to all the people and slap fives with a few people before walking to the counter. Shakira shakes her head and rolls her eyes at me.
“What you want?” Her attitude is no better than our high school years.
“Damn, this is how you do customer service?”
“Yeah, when the customer is a deadbeat ass, dark as burnt crust man like you.”
“Man shut the fuck up. You always talking shit. Valeria here?”
“Yea, but she’s busy.”
“Tell her I need to talk to her, it’s an emergency.”
“Boy, she ain’t got time for your games. Anything you want you can go get it from those other bitches in the street.”
“First of all, mind your tone when you talk to me. Secondly, stay out of my business and just go get her.”
“What are you going to do Rod? Shoot me? Please do. We all know you miss prison so you can keep getting,” I cut her off.
“If you say another fucking word, I will pay a visit to 446 Blackwall st. You’re mom still got that white Nightstar? The one with the custom rims right?” Her stare is daggers, but she leaves me no choice. She storms off and the frail door swings wildly into the wall. The loud slamming noise shocks a few of the workers and customers, but most people here are used to Shakira’s attitude at this point.
I do a quick glaze of the people in the restaurant. Smooth, no one here knows who I’ve become. Just a bunch of people that remember me from high school. I place my face in my hands and soon I can hear two sets of footsteps.
The employee door opens and Valeria pulls me by the wrist and drags me through the employee area. Past the kitchen with all their friers and ovens, all the way out of the back door.
Pushing me into the alleyway, she reaches into her pocket and grabs a small vape. She taps a button on it and puts it to her lips and sucks. The huge puff of smoke she breathes nearly hides the rage in her eyes.
“You have two minutes.” She says, but her misty blue eyes say she would much rather rip out my guts and spoon-feed them to me. Thick and curvy in all the right places, long black hair currently tied up in a ponytail and covered with a hat. A loose baggy black shirt that covers her chest and does her no justice, the only thing do so is the tight black jeans she wears
“I got into some shit tonight and I need a place to lay low.”
“Go to one of your other bitches.” Her tone matches her eyes.
“Val, I don’t have that kind of time.”
“So you’re only coming to me because it’s convenient? I see nothing has changed.”
“Val, it’s not like that. I’m coming to you because I don’t trust nobody else?”
“Funny, I trust just about anyone but you.”
“Val, this is serious shit. Alyssa set me up.”
“If only someone told you to stay away from that manipulative bitch.”
“I know you told me, but please, Val I’m begging you.”
“Like I begged you to choose me over the streets?”
“Val, I’ll do anything.”
“I bet you would.” She takes another puff.
“Five thousand dollars. In your hand, cash.”
“I don’t want shit that comes from you.”
“You’ll turn down five G’s?”
“I’d turn down ten million if it came from you.”
“Val, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Another puff.
“Val, this trouble I’m in, could get me life or the death penalty.”
“I’m not seeing a downside.”
“Val, do you hate me so much that you would rather see me dead?”
“You’ve been dead to me for two years, so what’s the difference.”
“Val, you help me this one time. I promise I will never bother you again. That’s on my life.”
“From the sounds of it, even if I don’t help you I get the same.”
“Val.” I choke on her name. She’s the one person I never want to do this with. “I’m calling in my last favor.” She puts the vape to her lips but stops before she hits the button.
“I don’t owe you any more favors.”
“You do, remember that grant from that organization you never heard of?”
“You didn’t?” Somehow her stare grows angrier.
“There is no grant from Omaliksis that doesn’t have to do with magic. I just knew you wouldn’t look too hard at a blessing. I used all of my stash money to send you to college. I knew you wouldn’t take it if you knew where my money came from.”
“you’re fucking lying.”
“I can prove it. Hell, you can prove it. Look it up. Then ask Oscar where it came from. He hates me too right? He would never lie to help me.”
She takes my challenge. She calls her older brother and when she talks in Human, I know just enough of the language to pick up that Oscar wasn’t fucking me over by lying. We may not like each other, but honesty is in the code of the streets.
“Puta madre!” She screams ending the call. “Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Because I want you to open your business. I want your flower shop to be as famous as Amazing Phials. I want what’s best for you.”
“If you wanted what’s best for me, Pendejo,” she stops. “This is the last thing. Go in my room, don’t move till I get there, and don’t fucking touch anything in my house.” She frees a key off of her side. “I know you’re driving a stolen car, so take mine, I swear to todos Los Dioses if you scratch my car.
“Val, I won’t. I take her keys and hate myself for the way she’s looking at me. “I will make sure to follow all of your rules. You have my word.” She walks back inside and slams the door shut, leaving me in the ally with her leftover rage.
I really fucked up this time.

Her house is just as I remembered it. A small two-bedroom house with all the making of a humble beginning. Just as I promised, I go into her room and lay on her bed. As tired as I am, I can use the rest. Pulling out my phone, I check the news.
There is the headline I was dreading. A detective gun downed in an alley by an unknown gunman. Luckily they have no leads and no evidence. The cameras in that area are all for show. Alyssa and the rest of the gang made sure of that.
With Alyssa popping back up in my mind, I need to call her. Figure out why she set me up. What caused her to do this? It doesn’t help anyone. I’ve been a loyal hitman for her for years. I know with Fagui Lui moving into the Underdark and taking over the old Mafia, a lot of local gangs were merging with him because he was just too powerful. Was this one of her stipulations for joining? A sacrifice?
I would know if she would fucking answer her damn phone. I don’t need that kind of energy anyway. I need to just rest and not worry about it and only focus on staying out of prison again.
Sinking into the softness of Valeria’s bed, I hear her door creak open. Who would have access to her house? Maybe I could get one more favor out of her if someone was breaking in. Or maybe it’s her new boyfriend.
Why does the thought of someone else having her drive me into a rage? Pulling my sidearm, I power myself with Finesse energy. I’m going to make sure that whatever shot I take, is one and done.
Crouching by the door, I open it slowly and see a small older woman walking in. Fuck! It’s her mother. Mama Martha. Out of everyone in her family, this old bitch hates me the worst. She never liked me from day one.
“Mija, I thought you said you would be home around eleven.” She calls out. She says a little more, but it’s in Human, and I’m a little rusty since Val and I no longer date. I know I have a promise, but Mama Martha will find me, and it will be a lot better if I just go out and greet her.
“Hi, Mama Martha,” I say tucking my gun away.
“Aidios Mios!” She exclaims. “What are you doing here?”
“Val let me use her car and crash here.”
“Why?” That is a good question. One I don’t want to tell her about.
“We needed to talk about a few things.”
“Like your son?” Excuse me, my what? The words come out like a dagger punching me in the heart. It is then that I notice the car seat in hand carrying one bouncing baby boy. My whole world stops and my breath leaves my body.
“She didn’t tell you?” I can’t lie to Mama Martha on my best day, never mind when my world has just been rocked by this bombshell.
“No, Mama Martha.” She says a couple of words in Human that I only know are associated with one of her children being in trouble.
“I told her to tell you. No wonder you haven’t been here.”
“You told her?”
“Of course I did Rodrico,” She never pronounces my name right. Ever. “I may think you are going down the wrong path, but that is no reason to keep a father away from his son. You’ve always loved my Valeria. I could see that. I know she can be a little crazy, let’s face it she gets it from her mama, but you’ve always been there for her when she needed you the most.”
Like when I was out sleeping with other women when she needed help at home? Like how I was out in the streets when she stressing about bills? Like how I was in prison while she had to work two jobs to take care of his debts and keep a roof over her head.
Sure I paid her back and then some for everything I put her through, but I’ve never thought my name would appear in the boyfriend of the year awards column in the local paper. But Mama Martha was right about one thing without question. I have always loved her.
“I said, Mija, I know that man makes you mad, but do not keep his child away from him. She told me she tried to reach out to you, but she couldn’t reach you.”
Last year she tried to tell me something, and she told me it was super important. But instead, I ignored her and ended up at a party with Alyssa, fucking some coked-out bitch in the bathroom. Fuck.
“Mijo, here, take your son. You have some catching up to do.” She extends the car seat out to me, and I nearly trip over the couch trying to get to him. “Careful Mijo, he’s still asleep.”
“You never called me Mijo before.”
“We have never been family before. Your son changes that.” I feel her wipe at my eyes when the tears start to come down.
“What’s his name?” I say trying to use my sleeve to do the job.
“Rodrick Phillip Carpenter,” she says.
“Jr.,” I finish and wipe at my eyes some more.
“Mijo, let me help you, he’s going to wake up in a little and want to eat.”
“How much is he eating?” A smile draws across her face.
“Oh, little Rodrico is drinking twenty-four ounces. He’s a healthy little boy.”
“Show me how to make the formula,” I say but it’s more of a request.
“Little Rodrico doesn’t drink formula, Mijo, he’s taking Brest milk. I have it here for you, you’ll just have to warm it up.”
Just as Mama Martha says, Jr. wakes up in a couple of minutes, and I’m right there to feed him. I take her guidance as this is hopefully my first child. Gods, I have a son I didn’t know about and I don’t know if there are any more. I hope not. I missed out on a year of his life and I don’t want to miss another second of his or any other children I may have out there.
“I knew you would be a good father, Mijo,” Mama Martha says, watching me feed him. Normally a new face, a new smell, a new anything would send a baby in a panic, but I guess laying in Val’s room has me smelling like her because Jr. just looks up at me while holding his bottle sucking down its contents.
“Hey little man, did you have a good nap?” It’s so corny but it’s all I can think to say. he takes a deep breath as he sucks down the bottle. I burn every line of his face into my mind, looking over every little detail. My red eyes, her black hair, my indigo skin, her nose, my crooked smile. He was mostly me, sure his skin was slightly lighter from his mother being Human and I being Drow, but mostly it was my skin.
Mama Martha stops me from trying to burp him, telling me one-year-olds can do that on their own. What else can he do? She fills me in on all the updates of my son and I swell with pride as his motor functions are well above that of other babies his age. His dad is a finesse user, one who practices stealth and dexterous fighting styles. Could that be passed down?
Mama Martha starts to walk around the house and mumbles under her breath about how dirty the house is.
“I’ll take care of it, Mama Martha.”
“I just don’t know about that girl, no wonder you wouldn’t stay, she doesn’t clean,” she goes on the rant that Human mothers are known to go on.
“It’s not her fault, she has a lot on her plate. I’ll take care of it, Mama Martha.”
“If she would have told you about your son, she wouldn’t have this on her plate,” she turns her fury to me. It makes me smile. I would rather her fuss about this than unjustly reprimanding Val for anything. I guess Human mothers are never quite happy.
I set Jr. down in front of the TV, and find a movie for him to watch. Mama Martha points out his favorite to help me out. typing it into the smart TV. He smiles at the pretty colors while I walk about the house picking up clothes and straightening up things.
I do the dishes, I take out the trash, and I clean the living room and the bathroom. Breaking my promise to Val by touching everything in the house and staying out of her room. By the time she walks in, Mama Martha and Jr. are asleep when she comes in through back door.
Her eyes turn to fire as she sees me grabbing a blanket from her closet and draping it over Mama Martha. Noticing what is going on, she points to her room and I meet her there.
“I fucking told you not to touch a fucking thing in the house, and you’re doing the exact opposite.” She says in a forceful whisper.
“What did you expect me to do? Mama Martha saw your car and thought you were home. She started complaining about the house being dirty so I told her it’s not your fault and I cleaned it.”
“Damn right it’s not my fault.”
“She blamed you for not telling me, and I told her that wasn’t your fault either. She doesn’t know the wrongs I’ve done to you.”
“You fucking right she doesn’t”
“And our son needed to be fed, changed, and bathed. You didn’t need to come home to that so I did that as well.”
“You better believe I didn’t need that.”
“Are you hungry? I made tacos from what I could find. I’ll head to the store tomorrow and replace what I used.”
“Don’t you fucking bribe me with food, you know I fucking love tacos. You’re,” I stop her.
“A piece of shit, I know. Val, you will get no argument from me. I hated using that favor against you, but it turned out to be the best thing in my life. I’m so sorry, Val. I know it doesn’t mean shit to you, and I don’t expect it to, but I’m so fucking sorry.” I say. And use my sleeve once again. “Come on, let me fix you a plate.”
She wants to argue, but when I’m taking all the responsibility for all my wrongdoings, it’s hard for her to find something.
“Like I can eat right now. I have to take a fucking shower.”
“Take a shower, Val, whatever you need. I’m going to go put Jr. in bed. Take your time.” The look she gives me is one of pure rage and malice. I deserve it. I deserve whatever she does.
She slaps me. I keep her stare and don’t move. She grabs me by the shirt and pulls me in for a kiss. Then she shoves me away.
“Go put your son to bed.” She says and storms to the bathroom.
I was wrong, I don’t deserve her to kiss me.
After putting Jr. in his bed, I notice a little sound machine. Hoping to the Gods that just pressing play will be the sound he needs. The sound of ocean waves flooding through the tiny room and the smile on his face while he sleeps steals my heart. I ease out of the room and go to prop Mama Martha up. She takes the pillow and snuggles up on the couch without so much as waking up.
Warming up Val’s dinner, I use the stove, not the microwave. She’s always hated the microwave, I guess she gave in when she didn’t have time to cook the way she needs to. Popping the two shells back in the oven and hoping they are warm enough in time, I start to plate the quick rice I made and reheated broccoli and cheese.
My timing is a little off, as Val enters the kitchen in her PJs. Or I guess that‘s what she called them. Booty shorts with something in Human on them and a thin white tee. Her hair is in a bonnet and all her makeup removed. This was the way I loved to see her.
Thick curves fill out her shorts and that little shirt shows her full-figure body. Her natural beauty shines in her face and her tired misty blue eyes scroll over her phone. The black bonnet looks like the same one from high school, I only know it isn’t because I may have destroyed that one in the dryer a while ago.
I make her tacos and set her plate in front of her. She won’t allow herself to smile at me. But she nods her approval. After taking her first bite, she looks over at me with annoyed eyes. Then continues to chew. She’s always loved my cooking. I may not be a top chef, but I know my way around a kitchen. A habit you pick up when your mom would rather run after drug dealers than feed you.
When she finishes her food, she starts to take her plate to the sink. I take that from her and clean up those dishes before placing them gently in the dish rack. When I turn around she has her arms folded behind me and walks to her room. I follow because like it or not, I have nowhere else to go with Mama Martha taking up the couch.
After closing the door behind me, I hear her say. “Talk off those dirty clothes before you get in bed. And don’t throw them on the floor. The basket is in the closet. I do as I’m asked.
“boxers too.” I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t be shy now. We have a whole ass baby that’s proof I’ve seen it before.” I smirk and follow her request. She scoots over and allows me the side of the bed that’s closest to the door. The side I always take.
Sliding into bed, she faces me and keeps my stare in the pitch-black room. I curse my Drow blood. Why do we have to have such dark vision?
“I don’t know what fucking shit you’ve got yourself into, but you need to handle that shit.”
“I will. First thing in the morning.”
“Please keep your word.”
“What word is that?”
“After this, you won’t bother me again.”
“What?” I prop myself up on my elbow.
“You said if I helped you, you wouldn’t bother me again.”
“That’s before I found out we have a son.”
“Your word is your bond right?”
“Not when it comes to my family.”
“Well, I’m not your family.”
“Val, you’re more than my family. You’re my heart.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
“You’re right. I don’t have the right to call you that anymore. But Val, seeing our son changes things. Please, don’t take that from me.”
“He doesn’t need your lies. It’s bad enough that I’ve had to endure them, he doesn’t need that.”
“You’re right. He doesn’t. And that’s why he won’t.” She wipes at her face.
“Don’t do this Rod. Don’t make me fall in love with you all over again and break my heart.” I kiss her. She places her hand to push me away, but then she pulls me in.
“Val, I’ve been a real piece of shit to you, I know that. I’m going to change that I promise.”
“Don’t promise me. You’ve made too many broken promises.”
“Then I pledge it to you. I swear an oath to it then. Whatever it takes to make you see that I am a changed man.” She holds my stare for only a second, then kisses me with wild abandon. I match her passion and before I can even reach for her shorts, they are off.
I’m inside her as fast as I can go. I plunge deep into her and she wraps her arms around my arms and wraps her legs around my waist, pushing me as far as I can go. We kiss with the passion of the crazy sixteen-year-olds we used to be but with more love than ever before.
She whispers how much she missed me in my ear as I drive in her. I tell her how sorry I am when she does.
“Just don’t let me down again.”
“I swear it,” I say quickly feeling myself about to come. Luckily she flips us over and mounts me. Stripping her shirt off, she rides me kissing me with all the hope of a thousand lifetimes, and that is what I will give her. She deserves that.
We make love over and over again until our bodies collapse. We hold each other throughout the night, waking periodically to plant kisses. Me because I can’t believe she’s in my arms again. I would imagine she’s doing it because she’s just as surprised that I’m here too.
Her phone alerts her that it’s some Gods’ awful time in the morning. She knocks it off the nightstand. Rolling out of bed, I crawl under the bed and grab it. Handing it to her. I kiss her good morning.
“Can you go get Jr? He probably needs to be changed. I still have some of your shorts in the drawer.” I give her a look. “Whether I hate you or not, those shorts are comfy.” I laugh and go in the drawer to find the black and blue workout shorts I used to love.
sliding them on I walk to the nursery.
Jr. is gone.
Before panic can set in, there is a note on the changing table.
“I heard you guys talking last night. If you are in the mood to make one more pledge, do one for me. Make an honest woman out of my daughter. Do that for me Mijo. I’ll take Rodrico for today and let you two catch up. Don’t give him a sibling before you keep your promise to me. P.S. don’t tell Mija that I asked this of you.” I smile at the note and destroy it for good measure.
Walking back into Val’s room, she looks up confused.
“Where’s Jr?”
“Mama Martha. She … heard us last night,” Val blushes. “ She thought we could use some time to catch up.”
“Well if I don’t have to take our son to his abuele’s that gives me at least another thirty minutes in bed. Can you work with that?” She smiles tossing her phone back on her nightstand.
“I can more than work with that.”

• A Bloody Start
• A Song of Passion
• For Good Girls
• Broken Promises

Tying my hair back as quickly as I can, I run to the side of the gurney as quickly as I can. An officer is being brought in with three GSWs in critical condition. He is accompanied by Dr. Hussain, nurses, and a beautiful Drow woman who looks like the sea.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to wait here while we take him to surgery.” Dr. Hussain says, I follow closely behind her and feel sorry for the woman drowned in tears and her white dress covered in blood.
Hastily we make it to an open room and as Dr. Hussain and the nurses start to prep, I call forth my divine power and calm the patient.
“Cassandra make sure not to heal anything until we know what we are dealing with. We can’t have anything inside the patient when you heal.”
“Yes, Doctor,” I respond, doing nothing but bringing him some comfort.
Dr. Hussain gloves up while analyzing the situation. It doesn’t take her long before she starts talking.
“Stop the bleeding as much as you can,” Dr. Hussain says looking my way. I nod and get to work. My divine magic let me see his wounds, but sometimes it’s hard to stop bleeding without overhealing. Once I finish my medical studies it is supposed to get better, but for now, I rely on my clerical training.
Blessings of the Holy Mother! The gunman couldn’t have been a trained shot. His shots are so wild that they miss anything that would have killed him or caused severe permanent damage, but he did nick a few internal organs. Those have to be taken care of quickly.
Applying the lowest level of healing I can to the small focus areas seems to cut off the bleeding, but it will be up to Dr. Hussain and her staff to make sure.
“The GSWs hit the spleen and small intestines,” I call out looking over the patient.
“Can you tell if any bullets are still lodged?” Focusing on the small blobs of red in my divine vision, one does seem a little larger than the other. The bigger the blotch, the more pain.
“The only one that looks like it could be is the lower shot in the small intestines.”
“Thanks, nurse smith, scalpel.” Dr. Hussain requests and they move with haste and precision to check the organs.
A low curse lets me know that Dr. Hussain did in fact find a bullet there. The only time she swears is when something is going to be tricky. I reach out with my powers and add clarity to her thoughts. She looks up at me and gives me a nod as thanks.
I push out another calm spell to wash over the nurses helping and instantly can see a difference in how they work around the patient. They pass tools and make sure they are sterilized, clean, and all the other things with steady hands while they work tirelessly.
Dr. Hussain has become somewhat of a star in the hospital, which was hard to do at first. Talons aren’t usually welcomed with open arms in the Underdark. Neither are humans. But one thing changes the minds of Dark Elves and Drows more than anything else. Competency, and Dr. Hussain and I had that in abundance.
“This bullet is logged in there. If I take it out, there is a good chance that it will rupture.”
“What if I focus on healing as you take it out?”
“That kind of precision can take a lot out of you.”
“I’m willing to do it to save someone Dr.” I shoot her a look that says – let me do this.
“Okay, let me know when you are ready.”
“I’m ready Dr.” Focusing hard, she pulls with her forceps. The ball of red in my vision grows to let me know when she is pulling. I concentrate my power there and reduce it just as fast as it comes. The higher focus almost allows me to see the forceps and the bullet as it pulls, making it easier to heal around as she pulls it out.
These seconds feel like hours as she eases it out and I close up his intestines. When the bullet is free, Dr. Hussain tosses it in the tray and she and her team tend to the rest of his wounds with very little issues. Paise the Holy Mother this is a success.
After they finish their bandages, I push more healing into him, restoring him to his full health. They remove the bandages and make sure there are no signs of any type of infection. Nothing but slightly bruised skin.
My healing is getting better. No longer do I leave a scar, just slight discoloration from bruising, that usually goes away in a day or two. Hopefully, with more practice, I’ll be able to do more. Maybe even one day, resurrections.
“Cassandra, could you go and tend to the patient’s visitor while we clean him up and get him into a room?”
“Yes, Doctor,” I nod then go to wash my hands.
“And Cassandra.” I turn to face her. “Great job.” I beam at her and just nod. I take the high fives and pats on the back from the nurses and hurry to my other tasks as a cleric.
When I make it out to the lobby, the woman doesn’t even notice me. Not sure if she even remembers me. She’s leaned over in her lap with her hands in her face. Even if she didn’t take the time to wipe her tears away, it is clear that she’s been crying for quite some time.
Mother’s Grace! Were we in surgery for two hours? It didn’t feel like that. I let my powers out and reach out to her. The amount of sadness she feels is too much. Taking it into myself, I relieve her of it and replace it with calm. When she feels it, she looks up and notices me mere feet away from her.
“Mrs. Taylor?” She shakes her head.
“My name is Chelsea Lassiter.”
“Chelsea, hi, I’m Cassandra Gomez, one of the clerics for the hospital.”
“Please tell me he’s okay.”
“He’s fine. He’ll be at full health in about an hour or so.” She stands and thanks the Gods. With her sadness gone, I can still feel something weighing her down. It’s something I feel way too much for my liking. A heavy dose of guilt.
“Can I see him?” She says with a quivering lip.
“Not just yet. They are getting him a room.” She nodes and paces about in a circle. “Are you familiar with the roles of Clerics in the hospital?” She shakes her head. I grab her hand and allow my power to bring her calm. Her red eyes soften as her beautiful sea-colored hands are finally still. She tucks her green hair behind her ear on one side and meets my stare. Looking at her makes me miss home a little bit.
The Underdark has so much beauty to it, but sometimes I just miss the ocean. The way a sunset sinks into it, the smell of it, the breeze that comes from it, the salt in the air. The beaches and how calming they are.
“I not only tend to the wounded, but I tend to the hearts of their loved ones.” She scoffs and if my powers were not coursing through her, I get the idea that she would start crying again. “Do you want to talk somewhere a little more private?”
I can feel a ‘no’ wanting to surface, but when I press into her hands and give her a look that let her know that I am concerned, she reluctantly nods her head. This is the harder part of my job. The part where I can’t just rely on my powers. I have to learn to read people and figure out the right thing to do or say.
I walk her down the corridors until we make it to one of the small chapel rooms. We find a pew and we sit side by side. How do I begin?
“I sense a lot of grief in you. Do you mind telling me about that?” She turns her face from me and I feel that I might be too direct and that could have been a bad choice. “If not I understand, but I want to help you unload the burden so you can be at his side at your best.” I rub her hand and she grips mine. “You will be a part of his healing process too. If you are carrying this burden with you, he will notice. It will make him feel worse, and even though he has been healed by our staff and my magic, he will leave with new wounds. Wounds to his heart.”
“He wouldn’t have any wounds if it wasn’t for me,” she says wiping away a tear, still not looking at me.
“Regardless of that, he would be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.” She finally turns to me, her face the very vision of dread.
“If I would have just let him take me to jail, he wouldn’t be here. He almost died because of my selfishness.” Her tears come out as she speaks. I don’t calm her this time. This one she needs to let out.
“You signed you were his girlfriend on his records under relationship.”
“Because whore that fucked him to get out of going to jail wouldn’t fit on the stupid line.”
“If that is what you see yourself as, then why did you bring him to the hospital?” She blinks widely and slouches back.
“Because before he arrested me, we had the most wonderful night of my life.” She tells the story of how she got to be here, making sure the glow at how he held her, talked to her and treated her. At least until the part of his true identity comes out.
I know that glow. It’s the glow of someone in love. I have that glow when I think of my Mistress and even Mister. Though Sir doesn’t really belong to me, Mistress doesn’t mind sharing him with me, whenever I’ve been good enough. Although my relationship is mostly with her, I can’t deny having Sir in those special moments are indeed a treat.
“So you broke your spell on him and he decided to let you go. Does that not sound like a man that is serious about you? You are not this whore you claim to be.”
“Aren’t I? I still fucked him to get out of being arrested. I don’t deserve him.”
“I think you do. Just like I think he is blessed to have you. You may have cast a spell on him, but spells like that don’t work on law enforcement.”
“What are you talking about?” I smile at her.
“I work very closely with all types of law enforcement. Their badges are enchanted to thwart off mind and emotion-controlling spells. So whatever you think you did by breaking the spell, I’m telling you, you didn’t. It probably didn’t work in the first place.”
“But I saw the magic in his eyes. The spell landed.”
“What level spell did you cast?”
“Level five.” I smile again.
“Their badges can handle up to level seven spells. Are you sure you didn’t see the magic in your eyes?”
“That’s not possible.” I release my magic to detect magic. When her body has a pink aura around it, I point her to the mirror on the wall. She gasps and looks back at me.
“So those were his real feelings the entire time?” She asks me, but she knows the answer.
“I can’t say for sure, but I think you were more accurate on his paperwork than you give yourself credit for.” She embraces me and the smell of alcohol, flowers, and blood mix. I don’t mind, I’ve had worse combinations in my line of work.
“I’m sorry priestess. I just got fucking blood all over your robes.” She covers her mouth. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t swear around you. Can I swear around you?” I giggle as many don’t know the proper procedures around clerics.
“Be yourself. The only Clerics you have to watch what you say around are the Clerics of Maketa, and that’s just because he’s a bit of a prude.”
“Got it,” Chelsea says giving me a thumbs up.
We walk back to the lobby and we talk the whole way. Everyone always wants to know what a Human woman is doing in the Underdark as a Cleric. I’m always happy to share my story as I hope to be an inspiration to all. Even if they don’t walk the path of the Gods, following your dreams and your heart does sometimes work out.
“Cassandra,” Dr. Hussain calls out. I turn to face her and she motions for me. “The room is ready, there will be someone to escort her shortly. Do you need more time with her?”
“No, Doctor.”
“Good, stay with her until transportation comes.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I return to her and give her the good news. She’s excited to see him now, and I couldn’t be happier that I helped two people today.

“Time to go home, Cassandra,” Dr. Hussain says entering my office. I close my texts and start to pack my things. The very fit Talon woman pulls her scrunchy out of her hair and lets her hair cascade down to her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes peer out past her cream-colored skin and that look sends shivers down my spine.
She reaches into her lab coat pocket and pulls out my collar.
“Do you want to put in on now or,” she starts but I don’t let her finish.
“I want it now.” I’m fully aware of how childish I sound calling for it. With the long day I’ve had, very few things have occupied my mind other than getting it back around my neck. Dr. Hussain walks over to my desk and walks behind me. Moving my long hair out of the way, she wraps the collar around me and changes me completely.
“Thank you, Mistress,” I say letting my hair fall down my back.
“You’re very welcome, Dear. Come, I have rewards for you when we get home.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I eagerly respond and finish packing and following her around.
There are a lot of sneers and suggestive grins as I walk behind Mistress. Everyone in the hospital knows about Mistress and me. As luck would have it, the director is an old fashion Drow woman and is an advocate for master-slave relationships. Although we don’t practice the same way traditional Drows do, there is definitely and master-slave relationship.
Once my collar is on, I am submissive to my Mistress in every way.
I drive her home and my body shivers with anticipation.
Mistress has rewards for me? I don’t know what I did to deserve them, but I will take them.
After setting my things down, she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into her. Her full lips that taste of fresh strawberries lull me into a kiss. I hold onto her as I’ve thought about doing all day.
“Go shower and meet me in the room. Don’t take too long, Dear, I have plans for you.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I say wasting no time running up to my room to get started on my tasks. I strip down to nothing and toss my clothes in the hamper only for work clothes. Then stop by the linen closet for a towel. Mistress did not tell me to get dressed after, so there will be no need for that.
Stepping out of the shower, I enter the room. Our playroom. A large room covered wall to wall with toys and all other kinds of things. Whips, paddles, mounting machines, ropes, cuffs, anything Mister, Mistress, and I desired.
The room is kept a little chilly, as some of our sessions tend to heat things up in one way or another. I stand center of the room with my hands together and by my stomach. I wait looking towards the door and it doesn’t take long for Mistress to enter the room in her leathers.
My heart races a little, just like it does every time I see Mistress in her leathers. Knee-high boots with a little leather dress that holds together at the bust by a single bow. Mistress doesn’t like gloves, something about not wanting anything to interfere with her tasting me on her fingertips. Her hair is done up in a neat bun and my favorite, no panties underneath.
“You successfully healed me heal an officer wounded in the line of duty with such effectiveness, he left the hospital before we did. That takes very serious skill and devotion. I am honored to be your Mistress.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” I blush.
“Not only that, but you mended the broken heart of his lover. The difference in how she was before and after your visit is astounding.”
“How did you know she was racked with guilt after the surgery?” Mistress walks over to me and grabs my throat. I flood with want as her nails dig into my neck.
“I know everything that has to do with you, Dear. Besides, there are cameras in every part of the hospital, other than the chapels and the restrooms.”
“Yes, Mistress. I shouldn’t have questioned you.” She places a kiss on my lips.
“You are quite alright, Dear. You can question me about such things. Because I know you only wanted to know because you want to earn each reward you get. Right?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I want to reach out and touch her so badly, but I know better. I was not given permission.
“Come, Dear, let us get you set up in the sex swing.” My heart flutters, but all I say is.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She guides me into the swing. Cuffing my ankles and securing my straps so that I can sit upright. She walks over to the far wall and grabs a rope, I tingle with eagerness. She ties the rope around my wrists and then to the top bar of the swing. I am open to her on every level I can be. She goes back to the wall to find my pink mask, my heart kicks even faster.
She slides my mask on and the room goes to pitch black. The room is always lit by dim lights or candlelight, usually the former. Now all I can depend on is my hearing as her heels click about the room.
There is a buzzing, did she grab my favorite toy? The vibrations on my nipples and the smooth edges have me guessing as my nipples harden to more than just the chill in the air.
I suck in a breath as her warm mouth covers my nipple as she licks and suckles. The smacking of her lips and the sounds of her tongue lashing over my breast has me breathing faster. I control my breathing as the toy enters me and she pushes and pulls it nice and slow. I can’t help but roll my hips over the toy as she kisses and licks my body.
All I can do is pant when she pulls the toy from me, but I can hear her sucking on the toy.
“Mmhmm, that extra fruit in your diet is paying off, Dear. I just couldn’t resist having a taste.”
My body lurches when I feel her move her hand down to my thigh then her mouth on my dripping sex. Her head moves in bobbing motions as she licks, suckles, and devours me.
My body is overtaken by heat and I want so badly to reach out and touch her, but my hands are tied.
After my legs begin to shake, she chuckles so close to my vulva that I still feel the vibrations.
“You taste divine, Dear.” She says kissing my sex.
“Thank you, Mistress,” I say when I can pull enough air in to speak.
“Is she ready,” the baritone voice of Mister carries across the room. My body pulses at just the sound of his voice.
“Yes, Sir.” Mistress answers pointedly.
“Remove her mask.” Mistress does it with haste and my eyes are met with the stare of Mister holding a glass of whisky in a black and red vest suit.
Mister is a dominant man in any definition you want to take. Tall, muscular, well-groomed beard, and a stare that could cause arousal in any woman and man with a pulse. His rocky brown eyes lock onto her and she freezes under their stare.
“This is your reward, Dear,” Mistress says stepping aside. Mister takes a long sip of his whiskey as Mistress continues, “Do you want to play with Mister?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I’ve learned that voicing my want of Mister does not spark jealousy in Mistress. After all, he was only offered to me by Mistress.
“Untie her.” He doesn’t say it forcefully, but the authority in his voice causes me to jump. Mistress undoes my hands and cuffs and then helps me down. I don’t move.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, Sir.” He rolls up his sleeves and I make an audible gulp.
“Are you sure? I am not your Mistress. You get a choice with me.”
“Whatever you desire, Sir.”
“That’s not how this works.” Again I jump at his commanding voice. He notices and smirks. “I know what you want. Go sit on the bed.” I follow his command as he goes to the wet bar and pulls out a glass and a couple of bottles.
It doesn’t take long before he is across the room. He hands me a rounded class and I take it. Sipping it down I can taste the strawberry in the mimosa he makes me. The bubbles light and the wine helps me to relax. Mister is much different from Mistress, I must prepare myself.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good,” he says and finishes his whiskey. When I am done with my glass Mistress takes both of our glasses and Mister takes my face in his hand. Mister doesn’t kiss like Mistress. Mistress kisses are soft and alluring. Mister kisses hard and claiming. The touch of his lips turns me into a ravenous woman, dying to have as much of him as I can. Mistress turns me into a flower waiting to be plucked.
The snap of buttons is quickly followed by them hitting the floor when Mister tears off his shirt when I start to unbutton it. My hands swim in a sea of muscles as he undoes his belt buckle. My legs help push his pants off and my hands help him roll his shirt off of his body.
I’m already ready for him thanks to Mistress so he doesn’t start with foreplay, he pulls me into him and takes me. Every bit of him dominates me. His mouth, his hands, his body, his cock. It slides into me and I cry out but my cries are muffled by his mouth.
His deep thrust shatters my soul as he pulls from me a stronger orgasm than Mistress did tonight. Pump after pump, thrust after thrust, he turns me mad causing me to claw into his back and bite at his neck, whatever I can do to get more of him in me.
When my words and cries become little more than garbled moans, he leans in and whispers in my ear, “ Are you satisfied, Dear?”
I can’t even answer, all my body can do is nod. I almost protest when he pulls out of me, because I know I didn’t make him cum, but after he calls Mistress over, I know the job will be done.
“Clean me up,” he commands and Mistress takes him into her mouth, sucking all of my juices off of him. I want to join in, having the soft and the hard, the nurturing and the claiming, having the rain and the storm. But between the two of them, my body is spent and all I can do is watch as Mister puts Mistress on her knees and pounds her from behind. Mistress reaches over to me and kisses me as Mister drills into her. I kiss her until I can feel my body drift into a slumber.
This was my reward for being a Good Girl.

• Pt 1: A Bloody Start
• Pt 2: A Song of Passion
• Pt 3: For Good Girls
• Broken Promises

Each strum of my fingers, cast a wave of magic into the club, sending ripples of loving magic to all the patrons of the bar. I lower my head to hide my casting, but all they see is me performing my heart out.

My well-practiced voice rings out singing stories about love and feelings, while hiding bits of spells cast out over the masses. It’s worth it when I see how many lovers are gazing into their partner’s eyes and sharing sweet embraces. My heart swells as I twirl about the stage with my guitar in hand and the microphone wrapped around my ear.

My dress is a classy little white dress that shimmers off of my topaz skin. My hair the color of sea foam hangs in curls around my face. A top of my head my favorite cowgirl hat that I rock with my matching boots. One day my assemble will be fancier, but not bad for a hometown girl that moved to the big city a couple of months ago.

In the front row, I see my friend Racheal and her beau. I didn’t think she was the type to settle down, but there she is sitting in his lap and wrapped by his deliciously tatted arms. Good for her, she deserves that kind of happiness.

As my set finishes, the crowd roars into cheers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up again for Cherry Lassiter!” The manager of the little bar shouts. I take a bow then place the strap of my guitar over my shoulder and exit the stage. The manager is there to guide me down the stairs and I head backstage to put my guitar away.

Making my way back out to the floor, I take my seat at Racheal’s table and grab the glass of Drow whiskey they have for me.

“Bloody hell, if I knew country music was this good I’d started listing ages ago,” Racheal says giving me a friendly tap. I dare not tell her that even her friendly taps are rough. That’s just Racheal, a hardened warrior.

“Thanks, I don’t think a lot of folks realize that country is just music of the everyday person ya’know.” I say shooting back my glass and waving my waiter down for another.

“I must say, Miss, you are making quite the fan out of me,” Trevor, Racheal’s lover says.

“That makes me feel even better. What was your favorite song of my set?” They look lovingly into each other’s eyes and I can see a flash of the magic I released in them. They turn back to me.

“The one about being made for one another, even though we have scars,” Trevor answers.

“Good, I wrote that one about you two.” Trevor smiles widely.

“I fucking knew it!” Racheal yells, the amount of drinks she’s had starting to show. “Cheeky little bird you are?” She says and toasts to me before taking another drink. Once the glass is in my hand, I toast back and hammer another one.

“You know, if we are the subject of that song, I would believe we are owed some compensation. You know for helping your creative process.” Trevor grins.

“Let me get right on that with all the money I don’t have,” I laugh off. If only I was getting paid for these performances.

“You could pick up a sword and go on a few missions with me? We have a team of four, but a fifth wouldn’t be too much if we are training you.”

“No way. I’m a Dark Elf, not a Drow. I’ll stick to waiting tables and playing for tips. I’ll leave all the monster slaying to you.”

“You could give it a crack. One of my jobs would pay more than your monthly salary at the diner.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I must respectfully decline.”

“If you change your mind.”

“I know where to find you. I know Rach.”

“Bloody Dark Elves, must you cut every name short?”

“My dearest apologies, M’lady,” I say with a taunting nod in my best Drow accent.

“For that remark, I’m not paying for your next drink.”

“I’m sure I can find some man in here who’s willing to do that for me,” I say with a smile.

“How’s about hat Johnny over there by the bar? He’s been sending you looks all night.”

I turn to see an athletic man in the corner with a military cut and an impish grin. Wrapped in a fitting rust and cream-colored suit, he looks like the kind of fun I see myself getting into, or getting into me.

“Don’t let me stop you, besides, I think my gut is telling me it’s time for Trevor to take me home.”

“Not surprising,” I mock

“I would knock you for such a remake, but as it stands I’ve had quite the amount to drink.”

I go to help Trevor get her up and to the car, but he assures me that he has things under control. With my friend out of the bar, that leaves me with some time to go on the hunt.

Crossing the bar to him, I see that there’s is so much that I missed about him at the table. The hard jawline, the classy shoes, and the accessories that he chooses. Everything about him says I not only have money, but I’m smart with it. It’s enough to show his status, but not enough to show off.

Could I have found the one rich guy who isn’t a jerk but just a mature man?

“My, my, how the Gods have been good to me. The Cherry Lassiter is walking up to me? I have to buy you a drink, Doll.” Doll. That’s something I’ve never been called by an attractive man. I like the ring to it.

“Drow whiskey on the rocks, please.”

“You heard the lady,” He says turning to the bartender. I smile as I catch his suggestive grin surveying my entire body. He takes an extra second or two when he looks over my breast, easily one of my best assets.

The glass slides to me and he places the money on the counter.

“To you and the helluva performance you put on.” I toast to his praise and thank him for the kind words.

“Tell me something about the famous Cherry Lassiter, that no one else knows?” I blush from the way he looks at me and the way he asks his question. He didn’t ask what’s my age and sign, he didn’t throw out a pickup line, and he didn’t even ask the ridiculous how many drinks until he could get my clothes off like some men dared to. He asked something about me, personally.

Nice try but I’ll make you work for that.

“That’s a lot to give up to a man that I don’t know, especially when I don’t know your name.”

“Fair enough, I’m Dexter.” Dexter? Don’t think I’ve dated a Dexter before. If he plays his card right, it would be a first to cry out over an orgasm or two. Hopefully more by the look of him.

“Nice to meet you, and there isn’t much to tell about me. I’m just a small-town girl trying to make it in the big city.”

“Just? I think you’re underselling yourself. I’ve seen plenty of women come to these events, but none of them have the passion that you have. You have real talent. I wouldn’t sell yourself short.”

“Well thank you. Looks like I have a real fan.”

“Guilty as charged.” He says sipping away at his drink. “Does that get me an autograph?” I smile at him.

“Sure. It won’t be worth much.”

“It will be worth a lot to me.” He says reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pen. I take it from him and wait for him to pull out a piece of paper, but when he holds his arm out I grin. Wrapping my hand around his wrist and leaning on the bar to get at a good angle, I get a really good whiff of his rich cologne. I scribble my signature on his forearm and freeze when I feel his other hand slide across my back.

By the Queen, his hands feel strong. Stronger than a man in a suit like his should be. The grip I feel is the hands of a working man, I would know as most of the guys I’ve had in the past have been blue-collar. This man works with his hands, whatever he does.

I look back up at him and hand him back his pen. He just looks at me like he wants to devour me, I look back like I would enjoy it. Somehow finding the strength to move away from his hands.

“I’ll cherish it.”

“Until you shower it away,” I return knocking back the rest of what’s in my glass. He gives a smile like he has something to say, but he just adjusts his head and moves his hand to the bar.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” I say unintentionally huskily.

“So what small town are you from?”

“Oh, you’ve probably never heard of it. Just a little one-light town.”

“I’ve been through a lot of towns like that for work.”

“And what kind of work do you do exactly?”

“Sales.” Bullshit. No one in sales has hands like that.

“Really?”

“Yup, I sell farming supplies so I end up in a lot of remote places.” That might explain a little. If he’s handling the materials and running demos, he has to know what he’s talking about.

“I’m from Claxton,” I say giving a little bait.

“Is that over by Marshville? About three hours north of here?”

“You know Claxton?”

“Sure do,” He says with a smile that takes me off guard. “I used to play ball against them.”

“You were not a badger!” I slap his arm. He looks me in the eye like – I got you.

“Nice try, Marshville’s mascot is tunnel rats.” Well shit. He is from there.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re a country like me.”

“Yeah, I’m a good ole’ boy at heart.”

“What changed you to the white collar life?”

“The Army.” He waves for more drinks for us and he has me wrapped up in so much more now.

He goes through his story of how he was drafted into the War of the Demons. After the war was over he just stayed in. After serving for a while, he saved up money and got his degree in business. He landed a job in sales and wanted to work in an area that he was familiar with.

That explains how he’s so well dressed but still as rough as I like ‘em. His manners are a breath of fresh air. He’s chivalrous, but he’s not too much of a nice guy to not take me in his arms at the right time, flirt with just enough raunchiness, and be respectful. There has to be a catch.

When the live band plays a country love song we both love, he doesn’t hesitate to take me by the hand and pull me to the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?”

“Yessir, you may,” I say tipping my hat to him. He twirls me around the dance floor with grace and style, and if he has a weak spot, it is not his dance moves. It’s every country girl’s dream to fall in love to a country song, and I’m already halfway there.

The guitar and melody play homage to one of the greats as he takes me in his arms and moves with expert precision. I need to ask the right questions to not make the same mistakes that I’ve made in the past. What started as flirting with a stranger for a few free drinks, is turning into, could he be the one?

After a few dances, we find ourselves back at the bar giggling and talking about everything.

“So what’s the catch?” I say wrapped up close to his chest.

“Not sure I know what you’re talking about, Doll?” There it was again.

“You’re handsome, you have a nice career, you’re a good dancer and a real charmer. Where is Mrs. Dexter?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not Ms. Lassiter, but a lot of women in the city aren’t looking for something serious.”

“Horseshit, look at all these women here tonight.”

“With their boyfriends and husbands. Where are all the single ones? And if you pay close attention, they are all older than us.” He wasn’t wrong. A slight detail that I forgot about now that I’m not on the stage. Tonight the club is packed with lovers. Could they be the only single ones here tonight?

“If there are no single women here, then why are you here?”

“A couple of reasons really. I like country music and this here is one of the only places that play live music.” Okay, that’s true. “Two, I knew you would be here. I’ve been coming here listening to you perform for a while.” Sweet. “And lastly, if you want someone with the potential to be a wife, then you go where you would want your wife to be on a Thursday night. I don’t know about you, but if I’m going to tie down with someone, I’d want them to enjoy a nice chill country club over an over-sexualized club any day of the week.” Very solid points.

“So you really are a fan of mine?”

“Yes Ma’am I am.” He says with a grin that looks genuine. I smile at him for a while then I say.

“I don’t like romance movies. They’re too sappy. I’d rather settle down with a nice horror movie.” He tilts his head in confusion. I just place my hand on his nice strong chest and smile at him. “You asked me something that no one knows about me.” He nods his head in remembrance.

“What about action flicks?” I shake my head.

“They are as cheesy as romance is sappy.” He nods in agreement.

“I know they are, but sometimes I want something familiar.”

“I get that, but I want something that’s going to stop my heart a little. Ya know what I mean?” His head comes down towards me and I freeze. When his mouth comes down to mine, mine surrender to his. His teeth biting at my lower lip, his tongue seeking out and laying claim to my mouth, and finding a moan in its conquest. My hands grip him and my whole world stops.

He looks me in the eyes and licks his lips as if my mouth was the best thing he’s ever savored.

“Like that?”

“Mmhmm,” I am incapable of words. Good thing too. He goes in for seconds and I’m ready this time. I pull him into me so close that I can feel his member brushing against my leg. Queen’s breath, it feels so hot and thick. I reach down and slide my hand on the part of his pant leg where it was currently trying to break free. He moves away.

“Not here, grab your guitar, let me get you out of here.” He says so out of breath and sounds afraid that if I touch him, he’d be forced to take me right on the barstool. Apparently, he minds. The heat in my body wouldn’t care if we were on the stage. But I nod and run to retrieve my guitar.

He takes my hand and leads me through the tiny parking lot to a silver SUV. He opens the trunk for me and slides my guitar in the back and closes it. He opens my door for me, and when I go to climb in the passenger seat, I feel him grab my wrist. Shortly followed by cold metal latching down on me.

“Queen’s ass, what is that!” I screech spinning around, to the sound of metal clicking together. It’s too late, My wrist are in cuffs.

“They’re handcuffs.”

“Why are you cuffing me?” With hurt in his eyes, he reaches into his wallet and turns it around to reveal a badge.

“Because you are under arrest for the unlawful usage of magic.”

“What!” I pull away from him.

“You’re a certified bard, which means you took the exams. And you know that any usage of magic other than thaumaturgy to enhance your performances is illegal. You released several level-five doses of magic in your performance tonight.” He says and for the second time, he stops my heart. Pulling me from the front seat to the back seat, he guides me in, and I can’t even fight him.

This man is good. He lead me on and made me feel like I found the one, and in the end, he played me so well. I should have known that he was too good to be true. Locking my handcuffs to another pair that is attached to the door handle, he closes the door behind him and gets in the driver’s seat.

We leave the parking lot and I just look out the window. The big city lights are all a blur as we travel down the road. I feel his eyes on me. What reason does he have to look at me? Anger boiling in my veins causes me to look back at him when I catch him staring through the rearview mirror.

“Please don’t be mad at me, I really didn’t want to,”

“Save it.” I bite back.

“You weren’t supposed to be,” I cut him off

“I said fucking save it.”

“Cherry.”

“If you’re a real cop you know that’s not my real fucking name.” He sighs.

“Chelsea, I mean it. I really do like you.” Do you?

“Not enough.”

“I have to do my job.”

“You don’t.”

“Really? That’s your comeback? You know what’s it like coming from the country. We have to do what we can to survive. You have your singing and I have the law.”

“I won’t have my singing I after this. Shit, I won’t even have the shitty little cafe job I have by the time I get out.” He makes a turn down a street and gets caught by a red light.

“What would you have me do? You broke the law.”

“So what, it’s a stupid law. It’s not like I was using it to hurt anyone.”

“I know.”

“If you know, then why even bother with something so stupid?”

“Because it’s my job. I can’t help that.”

“You could,” I say bratty.

“I can’t,” he says turning to face me.

“I should have known no one like me that much.”

“I do,” He says, then someone blows the horn at him. He turns and focuses on traffic.

“If you really did, you would give me a chance.” I feel a tear come out, then I feel the car slow down. He turns down a smaller street, then an alley. When he turns to face me this time, I can see the magic in his eyes.

By the Gods, my magic worked on him. And I was the object of his love. I suppress a smile when he reaches back and wipes a tear away.

“Chelsea, I don’t know how to give you a second chance. I was sent to apprehend you. They have a case on you.” How sloppy have I been? I didn’t think they cared about that stupid law as long as you weren’t using it to rip people off or take advantage of them. With the Underdark being riddled with heavy violent crime, wouldn’t they leave misdemeanors like this alone?

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do to get a second chance?” I release a little more magic. I can feel his feelings when I do. The lust in him is far smaller than I thought. But the genuine admiration he has for me is through the roof.

He swallows hard.

“You know I can’t.”

“You can. Just come back here and let me show you how sorry I am. Unable to resist my magic, he crawls to the back seat and takes my mouth. I let him. I let him savor every part of me as his mouth crashes into mine. Gods, the way he bites my lips rekindles that heat from the club. I want to him. I want every part of him, even if I want him to let me go, that changes nothing about how badly I want to feel him.

“Remove your pants.” He works his belt and unzips his pants. No sooner than his cock is free, I lean forward and take it into my mouth. Feeling it through his pants and having him in my mouth doesn’t compare at all. The thick heat of his rod is almost too much for me to take in. I’m able to work him halfway, and he guides me back up. His groans motivate me to try to go past where he allows.

“I can take more,” I say to him and he asks me if I’m sure. Instead of answering him, I dive down as far as I can, my tongue touching the base of him. I suck hard on my way up then let my body take over as I glide up and down him. His soft curses send a vibration of pride through me. Even if I was doing this to get him to let me go, It feels good to have this kind of power over him.

When I come up for air, he leans forward and unlocks the cuffs that bind me to the door. With his hands on my hips, he looks up at me and brings my face to his to claim my mouth again. .

I straddle his hips as he guides me, and Gods, once I rub back and forth over his heat even I get lost in the rush. He moves hikes my dress up, and pushes my panties to the side, my body is too eager to get him inside of me.

My hands still locked behind me only adds to the pleasure that it’s all up to my hips to please him, and all the lip bitting that is fucking hot. His strong hands find their way to my breast and glide up and down my waist as I ride him hard.

Fuck his thrust upwards not only rock the SUV but the deepest parts of me. Leaning forward to kiss him, he takes both hands and grabs my ass, and pounds me down onto him. I cry out for him as the cuffs are a little less than a slight inconvenience when they pinch my skin. Even then the pain from my wrist only add to a part of the arousal I didn’t even know I liked.

I cum first, hard legs shaking as he continues to crash into my sex. He isn’t long after me, bucking and letting out a low growl as he holds me through it. My mouth works a kiss onto him.

Was I really going to sink my magic into him to make him let me go? If I do that, I would be no better than the criminal that I told him I wasn’t. That is the kind of thing that law was put in place for. And even if I were so bold to do so, there was a case out on me. He would just find me.

“If you still wish to take me in, that is your choice,” I say. Giving him the option breaks the spell. Whatever he says now will be his own mind. None of my magic will be in him.

“If I let you go, you have to promise me something.” He says nearly out of breath.

“I promise I will stop using magic in my performances.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“What?” I raise up as much as I can, but my core muscles aren’t what they used to be. Especially after sex.

“You breaking the spell now is proof that you want to do that. If you planned on continuing, you would have used your magic to persuade me further.” I should have known he was at least that smart. He was a cop after all.

“Then what will you have me promise?”

“Promise me, that this didn’t just happen to try to get out of this. Promise me that there is a possibility of an us. Promise me, that I can see you and court you properly.” My heart swells and before it can send the message to my brain, I am kissing him and promising him that.

He gets his keys to free my hands and when he does, I wrap around him and kiss him deeply.

“Even after this, I still believe you are too good to be true.”

“Well save that for after our third date. Well see how I perform.” he taps me to signal to let him up. Pulling his pants back up and putting his belt back on, he makes sure I’m okay. Aside from weak legs, I’m fine. He opens up the passenger side door and this time he lets me get in without slapping handcuffs on me. After buckling my seatbelt, I hear three loud bangs.

Gunshots.

I turn my head to see a man with a hoodie walking up to the side of the SUV. His gun raises and I duck down to the driver’s side. There are three more shots and I feel glass shatter and fall onto my leg. there are a few clicks and then a bunch of swearing.

I hear as he runs away and I peak back up. I look up just in time for him to turn a corner, then I unlock the door and run around to Dexter.

For the third time tonight. My heart comes to a complete stop.

• A Bloody start
• A Song of Passion
• For Good Girls
• Broken Promises