Homelands Pt. 12

Zach let out of a woof, but picked himself up quickly enough. Then, without a word, he came and sat against the wall beside her. That drew no objection from their captors, which didn't really surprise Lena. They wanted her to think they were badasses, but she really didn't think they were. And she wasn't sure whether she pitied or envied them that. But more importantly, her son was close enough for her to smell him, to feel his Libido reaching out to hers, and that wouldn't last. So for the time being, she was going to savor it.

"So. Now what?" the shadowy guy asked.

"Nothing," the wolf said.

Lena furrowed her brow. Whatever game he was playing, it was a strange one.

"We separate them," he eventually added. "But do nothing else. Something tells me that will bother them just enough to make them want to talk, but not enough to make them do anything stupid. Come morning, we'll know whether they know anything more."

Lena tried to act disappointed. It wasn't too hard, because he was right that it would hurt to be away from her son. But if there wasn't going to be any more torture, of the physical kind, she could bide her time until the three fuckers were convinced that she and Zach had passed their breaking point. She wasn't sure what would happen then, but she'd cross that bridge when they came to it. No sense risking her son's life unnecessarily. Especially since she lacked certain talents her mother possessed. Like the ability to raise the dead.

"We'll take turns watching over them," the wolf said, looking from his dark-skinned companion to the blonde. "Two with her, one with him."

"I'll go solo first," the blonde said straight away.

That caught Lena's attention. Perhaps he was only slightly more fond of his companions than she was. It had been clear all along that the three of them weren't too close, but she hadn't realized just how uneasy he was with the other two. She shouldn't have made the mistake of devoting all her attention to the dark-haired ones. When next the opportunity presented itself, she'd have to drive a wedge between Blondie and the others.

Neither of the others objected. Which was for the best. At least Zach would be in relatively good hands. If anyone was going to go off script, it was shadow-boy.

Best he do so with her.

Still, Lena reached out and gave her son's hand a quick squeeze. Because feeling his warm skin against hers, however briefly, was more soothing than she cared to admit.

Once she was alone with the two dark-haired men, she felt like the world had ended. Like no one else drew breath save her. The brown eyes focused unfailingly on her might as well have been sheets of ice, their bodies rock formations.

Eventually, she forced herself to push the ache aside. She'd reunite with her son in time. That much sooner if she played the two of them carefully. Which required her to learn more about who they were and what made them tick. "So what're your names?" she asked in precisely the tone of voice she'd have used if they'd bumped into each other at a party.

They looked at each other.

"Well, at least give something to call you. Make them up if you have to."

"Goatlicker," the shadowy one said. Which was even better than the nicknames she'd come up with on her own. Or would have been, if it wasn't so obvious that he'd have liked nothing more than for her to giggle at it.

His companion frowned. "Frank Orwin," he said.

That drew a disapproving look from Goatlicker, but Frank didn't seem to care. Lena sort of admired him for that. What made him think he needn't fear retaliation against either him or his family, she wasn't sure, but perhaps if he'd been dealing with anyone other than her mother that confidence would have been warranted.

Yeah, in a different life, he definitely could have been Daphne's.

"Lena," she said with a fake smile. Because screw it, they had nothing over her. Even if she was, for the time being, their prisoner. They were right that she'd find it hard to bear being separated from her son, but that didn't change the fact that they'd grabbed the wrong fucking woman. "As bestiality goes, I'm more a wolf kind of girl than goat. But hey, no accounting for taste, right? And I suppose those horns give you something to hold onto."

Frank snorted as the faintest of grins passed across his face. Goatlicker, though, was not amused. He stared at her like he was picturing his hands closing around her throat.

"So what you're saying is that he should go first," Goatlicker said at last, jerking at thumb at Frank. "Suppose I can live with that."

Frank scowled. He, at least, had understood what she'd meant.

No, they both had. Goatlicker was just trying to get a rise out of her.

Perhaps he was the weak link after all. The more she studied his face, the more convinced she became that there was some measure of intelligence behind those dark eyes. But so too did her sense that he needed to be in control. The more she teased him, and the more his attempts at doing the same fell flat, the more likely he'd be to offer her an opening.

"Who's missing you guys right now?" Lena asked, the way she would guys who came in for a bachelor party. Like she was just making conversation, or giving them an opportunity to make sure she knew that other women found them attractive, when in reality all she was after was fueling their guilt. "I mean the most. Your mothers? Sisters?"

Perhaps predictably, Goatlicker said, "My goats." Then spat on the floor.

With a playful tone that suggested he might just understand her game, Frank said, "Both, I'd say. But that doesn't exactly put them in an exclusive club. Half the women of Autumn are thinking about me right now. The other half are making love to me in their dreams."

Lena smiled. "I bet they are," she said. She didn't lay it on too thick, but some men might find their knees buckling if she spoke to them in that tone. The way she dragged her lower lip against her upper teeth was almost unfair. And she knew it had the intended effect.

Maybe not to the degree she'd have liked. But it did.

Even Goatlicker was staring at her with a little less hate and little more lust.

"I really don't know anything more than I've told you," she said, dropping the act abruptly. Sticking with it a bit longer might have paid dividends, but not much. Besides, catching a guy off-guard was no less effective than getting him to lower it the way he was her panties in his mind. "And there's no way out. But if you let me couple with my brother a few times a day, I'll gladly spread my legs for you as well."

"Oh come on," Goatlicker said with evident disgust. "How stupid does she think we are?" he asked Frank. Then, turning back to Lena, he added, "You just promised to Devour me if I ever tried to get between your legs. Now I'm supposed to think you'd be perfectly willing, so long as we let you get a bit of your brother's cock from time to time?"

"He's good," Lena replied with a shrug. "What can I say."

He wasn't, really. Not yet. But he had serious potential for one so inexperienced.

And he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

That was it. The one thing he had to offer that Lance didn't. Well, aside from being more generous when it came to oral sex. But more importantly, when she was with her son, she felt like the only woman alive. And she hadn't even realized how intoxicating that was. How desperately she'd been craving just that feeling, for years and years. He might be a little too afraid to get rough with her, and he wasn't quite as you've-got-to-be-kidding-me hot as Lance, who despite being so impressed with himself that she'd never ever say as much where he could hear her, really was the perfect manifestation of male sexuality. But she could step out of her mother's shadow with Zach.

And that was a singularly gratifying experience.

Yes, she loved her mother. Or, at least, was unfailingly loyal. And duly afraid. But the thought of being something other than her servant held enormous appeal.

Why couldn't Lena be the object of worship for a change? She didn't need a court, let alone three of them. Just one devoted subject, with a nice beard and blue eyes.

"I'm sure he is," Goatfucker scoffed.

Frank gave no reaction at all.

She hadn't really expected anything else. But their responses were still somewhat informative. The impressions she'd had of them back in the palace appeared to be a bit wide of the mark. Yes, Goatlicker was the one to focus on, but not because he was reasonable whereas Frank was rabid, but because he couldn't stand letting someone else hold the reins.

That made sense to her, but Frank did not. Had he been putting on a show back there? Or did he find it harder to control his baser instincts when he wolfed out? Lance got wilder when he went furry too, but she'd always assumed that was intentional. That her brother had just been playing the part. Besides, he wasn't all that tame to begin with.

But maybe she was wrong about both of them, in every respect. They could just passing the role of bad cop back and forth. They were going to take turns watching over her and Zach, after all. And none of them seemed to be the clear leader. Maybe they did everything on a rotating basis. If so, she'd seriously underestimated them. But she hadn't become her mother's favorite daughter by failing to consider such possibilities.

There was but one strategy that she'd found reliable in those rare instances where she found herself a position of weakness-change strategies so often that no one could possibly figure out what she was going to do next.

"So. How about a game? Two truths and a lie?"

Frank snorted. Goatfucker flipped her off.

Still, she forged ahead. Because the confusion strategy didn't work if you didn't make at least some effort to sell each and every shift. "I'll start: I used to be a stripper; I have no piercings; and my favorite position is missionary."

"The second one," Frank said after just a moment's hesitation. "I'm guessing your belly button, at the very least. But probably your nips and clit too."

"Ha!" Lena said. "So you believe I was a stripper?"

"Was that the lie?" he asked, brow furrowed.

Her sense of triumph deepened. Not only had she fooled him with her statements, but by drawing him into the game in the first place. She supposed it was possible that he was just trying to let her know that he saw what she was doing and was still in control, the way he had earlier with his flip answer about the women of Autumn, but she didn't think so. If Goatlicker's weakness was that he needed to be in control, Frank's was his curiosity.

"Nope," she said, popping the "p" the way cutesy teenage girls did. "You should've seen me. I worked that pole like a boss." Frank smiled and in spite of herself, Lena felt her pussy get wet. This was almost too easy. "But no ink or chrome for me."

"Don't mess with perfection?" he asked.

Lena shrugged. The look of pure hatred on Goatlicker's face only pleased her more. "I guess. That sounds good, doesn't it? But I probably would have if I'd stuck around longer."

"Hmm," Frank said.

"Your turn," she told him.

Goatlicker stared daggers at him, and Frank yawned. At first, Lena thought that was feigned. But then she saw the guy's eyelids start to droop. She'd never seen anything like it. A moment ago, he'd been wide awake. Now, he looked like he wouldn't last another minute.

Forty seconds, as it happened.

"I know what you're doing," Goatlicker said.

"And I know what you just did," she said, running a hand through her hair absentmindedly. "That wasn't smart. You need backup for what you're about to try."

"Do I?" he asked, moving towards her. "Someone to tell me not to go too hard on you and your stupid brother? That's what you honestly think is in my best interests?"

Lena almost laughed at him as she realized that he really saw himself as something more than a control freak. He thought he was taking a stand on behalf of their courts against the wicked Winter witch. The poor fool. Even more amusing was how quickly he'd decided to make his move. She'd expected it to take more time than this. Part of her had even hoped to get through this without having to kill any of them.

But that had only been a small part. And she was glad he'd be the reason it didn't.

Though she wasn't sure exactly he'd had in mind, she knew that if she baited the trap, he'd head straight for it. So she started throwing off pheromones like crazy as she got down on her back and slowly parted her legs. Meanwhile, the zipper of her dress undid itself.

Sure enough, he began removing his own clothes as he fell atop her. He might have had murder on the mind before, but no longer. The look in his eyes was one of pure lust. If his hand found its way to her throat now, it would only be in the fun way. He might not know that she was a fan of erotic asphyxiation, but that didn't matter.

He was rough. Nearly as rough as she liked it. And, yes, he cut off the supply of oxygen to her brain in the most delightful way, making every part of her body tingle. For an attempted act of rape, it came awfully close to being enjoyable.

But once he realized she was sorta kinda into it, he started getting sweet with her. Kissing her on the lips, when she forgot to turn away. Cupping her breasts softly and tweaking her nipples so gently that she wanted to bite his tongue out. Knowing that it wouldn't upset him if she got off, that he'd feel validated, in control of the situation, she decided she was done playing games. Even if she was most of the way there and in desperate need of release.

Her legs tightened like a vice and she made her womb as cold as could be. His prick turned into a fucking icicle and he gasped for air, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"I told you what would happen," she whispered in his ear. "Didn't I?" Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her thighs cracked his backbone. "Shouldn't have put him to sleep."

The fucker tried to get another word out, but he ceased to exist before that could happen. Lena pulled him into her Libido, by way of her cunt, and immediately got a huge rush.

It wasn't the first time she'd Devoured a man, but it was either the first in too long or he'd been stronger than she realized. Because the high she got as his energy forced her Libido to expand was indescribable. Her consciousness was divorced from her physical being. From everything. It was better than the orgasm he hadn't quite given her.

When she returned to her body, Lena realized it had changed. Of course. That happened as they grew stronger, though typically that process unfolded more gradually. As did the acquisition of power. Her already slender waist had grown even thinner. A quick clench of her ass cheeks, pushing her up off the cave floor, told her she'd added some mass there. Which was fine by her, though she might have preferred that have happened to her breasts instead. A lot of guys liked bubble butts. Zach might even be one of them, despite his interest in Yvette. And she couldn't wait to see her face in a mirror.

But even more important than any physical changes was the metaphysical one. She felt as though all of existence was humming, the vibrations in her Libido rippling across the fabric of reality. Had she ascended to the lofty heights upon which her mother was perched? No, probably not. But could she rip a hole in the membrane wrapped around Winter? Maybe.

Or...maybe not.

She pushed, poked, and sliced at. Then she tried freezing a patch and smashing it. But that got her nowhere either. It was im-fucking-pervious.

But maybe if she joined her Libido to Frank's?

The right thing to do, some lingering sense of fealty insisted, would be to turn them over to the queen. But she had no intention of doing so. Or of ever laying eyes on her mother ever again. An idea had bloomed in her mind like a flower, pushing up through the permafrost and thick layers of snow. She was her own woman now, and she'd not give that up.

Her days as a snow leopard were in the past. She was Daphne's daughter no longer. Only Zach's mother and lover. And that was all she wanted to be.

"Wake up," she told Frank, kicking him in the ribs.

He groaned and stirred but did not wake.

"Wake UP." Another kick.

This time, he rolled away. And then looked up at who was doing the kicking and immediately transformed into a hybrid man-wolf-beast coated in black fur.

"Where's Nick?" he demanded, using a mouth that was not accustomed to speech.

"Was that his name?" Lena asked. She was impressed by the alacrity with which he changed. Lance couldn't do that, at least not when he was still half-asleep. Could he really be stronger than her brother? "Huh. You know, come to think of it, he didn't look like a Goatlicker." She smiled. "No, wait. I take that back. He really did."

Frank growled. "Where is-"

"I Devoured him, just like I said I would. C'mon, you're smarter than that."

He curled his fingers out then in, again and again, dragging sharp knives through the cold air menacingly. But spoke not a word.

"Something tells me you and I can come to an understanding, though."

"You think you can seduce me?"

Lena snorted. "Honey, I don't want your cock. I want to get the fuck out of this place. And so do you. If we work together, we can make that happen."

She hoped.

"What about the others?" Frank asked.

"Zach comes with me. Blondie's your problem."

He considered for a time, then nodded.

That surprised Lena. She figured he'd come around eventually, but so soon? "And they say Winter's children are cold," she said with a grin.

No response came, predictably enough.

"So. How do we play this?" she asked.

The look Frank gave Lena almost made her shudder. He could teach Lance a thing or two about brooding. She knew she could take him. Or at least, was pretty sure she could. But for a moment there, she was reminded of why she'd initially thought him the loose cannon.

"We see if we can't tear a hole open," he said. "If that works, we go get the others." As he said this, he split in two. The second Frank then turned into Nick. Then a shadow-Nick, only partially corporeal. "I wait until you and Zach go through," he said, putting an odd emphasis on her son's name that seemed to imply that he thought she'd given him a false name, "before telling Eric what really happened to his brother."

His brother? Lena would not have guessed that that Blondie and Goatlicker were related.

"As you said, my problem," Frank said, with a look that almost made her feel sorry for him. What sort of flack would he catch for allowing her to escape after she'd killed Goatlicker? Lena couldn't believe she found herself caring about such things, but it was too easy to picture him as her brown-eyed brother.

Until he said, "But if we can't get through, the deal's off."

After a moment of stunned silence, she asked, "And if it doesn't?"

He didn't answer, but the look on his face said everything. He'd decorate the inside of the cave with her blood and viscera, even if he might not take any pleasure in it.

And she couldn't help thinking he just might pull it off. That look, so full of confidence yet tinged with enough regret or perhaps resignation that she had a hard time convincing herself that he was giving himself too much credit, simply paralyzed her.

"Shall we then?" she asked.

Frank nodded.

There was no reason for her to feel so nervous as she took his hand. Even if the Libido she joined hers too was just as vast as she'd feared-slash-hoped. If things didn't work out...but they did. On the first try, Lena ripped a small tear in the layer surrounding Winter.

*****

At first, Eric didn't believe what he'd heard.