Where the Heart Is, Part 21

The naked captives that you rescued huddle together, some of them too badly mutilated to even remain standing. Your stomach turns at the cruelty, but you keep up your soothing smile for their sake. "You're going to be alright now," you assure them. "You're going to be safe. We won't let them hurt you any more."

One of them breaks down into racking sobs at your words, her shoulders convulsing. You move in closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Then you continue. "I know you're in a lot of pain. I can help with some of that, if you'll allow me. I have a... healing trick that I can do, but it requires your permission."

You hold out your hand, demonic power gathering and swirling languidly in your palm. Then you turn to Mockingbird. "You as well. That bastard knocked you around a bit, didn't he? Please. Let me take care of that for you."

A few of the girls exchange worried glances, sensing that there's something strange going on here. But Mockingbird puts her hand forward in acceptance, and the rest of them soon follow their savior. Your corruptive boon reaches out to embrace them, and they all gasp in unison as the seductive influence winds its way through their bodies.

Then the regeneration starts to take effect. The girls all cry out, experiencing pain and pleasure mixed in exquisite proportion, as the mutilations inflicted on them start to shift and close up. You watch the girl whose fingers Sevariel had broken in multiple places. She's staring down in shock as her hands twist and jerk back into shape, the bones slowly starting to meld back to their proper positions.

With such extreme injuries, the process is not easy, nor is it painless. Healing often isn't. And you know full well that the healing for what they've been through will need to continue long into the future, especially the wounds to their spirit. But you can at least begin the process here, giving them a head start beyond what even the greatest mortal physician could manage.

Mockingbird's eyes also light up. For her, however, the experience is more straightforwardly exhilarating. She feels the Lust seep into her. The thrill. The desire. She chews her lower lip, looking up at you as she tries to imagine what her life will look like from now on. It's something she's clearly still coming to grips with, as she tries to sort out her conflicted feelings, and what this means for her.

One of the prostitutes gives you a measuring look. It's the older one, the one who was trying to take care of the others. You're pretty sure she's guessed—more so than the others, at least—what you really are. But she doesn't say anything, accepting this turn of events with unflinching pragmatism. She's clearly no stranger to hard decisions... and if navigating their current situation involves shaking hands with a devil, then so be it.

Once your gift of regeneration has at least stabilized the most egregious injuries, you speak up. "We're going to keep you safe," you reiterate. "But to do that, we need to get you out of here. There's no telling when the other demons will come back."

"I could steal some clothes, if we need to move them through the city," Mockingbird offers. But then she hesitates, and glances back over at where her own clothes lie, still sodden with polluted blood.

Of course, with your corruptive boon now infusing her—with your Lust imbuing her body—the danger from these twisted incubus' blood should be much reduced. But then again... why take chances? Especially when the alternative is intriguing on its own merits? "That's an excellent idea!" you say, grinning. "All you have to do is make sure you aren't seen."

Then you lean down, whispering your next words into the naked heroine's ear, so that only she can hear them. "Steal your new clothes last."

You watch the idea take hold in Mockingbird's imagination: the image of her streaking back and forth across the city, with nothing but a mask and her skills in stealth to conceal her exposed body from the gazes of every single passer-by in the street. Of course, considering how adept she is at stealth, the actual risk is rather small, practically speaking. But since when did strict practicalities matter in something like this? She flushes adorably behind her mask, and her only response is a rapid nod before she darts away.

After allowing yourself a few moments to picture the heroine's first exhibitionist escapade in your mind, you pull your thoughts back to more pressing matters. While you wait for Mockingbird's return, you sit back against one of the walls and close your eyes, reaching out with your soul to initiate a willing dreamwalk with Lily. She eagerly accepts, and withing moments you are standing with her in her dreamscape, currently a replica of her royal bedroom.

It's not a setting that she consciously chose... but you're pretty sure the setting is indicative of the direction her thoughts have been swirling ever since her awkward-but-earnest confession to you at your departure. She doesn't know why you've sought her out so suddenly... but given your nature, her mind can certainly supply her with enough possibilities to set her heart aflutter.

Loathe though you are to pour cold water on such pure-hearted anticipation, you can't afford to waste any time right now. "I'm sorry to interrupt you like this," you say. "But I'm afraid I have an urgent warning. You're in danger. There's another one of those corrupted incubi in the capitol. And sometime soon, he may try to abduct you to get at me."

The young queen's eyes widen, and she immediately grows serious. "Do you know when it will happen?"

"Not exactly," you admit. "But whenever they make their move, it sounded like they were going to try while you were sleeping. This demon probably wants to avoid facing someone of your power in open combat."

"Then I can stay awake!" Lily suggests. "I can be ready to help Tinesoreth and the other guards whenever this incubus attacks."

You shake your head. "If he's cautious, he might spend days scouting out the location before he makes his move," you say. "Or if he's impulsive, he could strike tonight. We just don't know. And you do have a country to run. But if you stay up for days on end, you'll soon be of no use to anyone—in either fighting or ruling. Let the drow do their jobs."

"But... if this incubus is as powerful as the one Ceriss fought..." Lily says, hesitantly.

You can't deny her point. These demons are powerful enough that—even heavily wounded from an ambush—they can give a heroine a deadly fight. These drow guards, on the other hand, are the survivors who managed to flee their ambush of Verika with their lives.

"Warn them what they're up against," you say. "If they can prepare... if their mages can lay down enough anti-demon traps... they might be able to hold him off long enough for you to wake up and come to their aid."

Lily frowns in thought. "I will warn them," she agrees. "But... I think there is something else I can still do. Even if I'm asleep when the attack comes."

Then she looks up at you. "When you transferred Rysanial from my summon to yours, you said it would give me more options, just in case anything ever went wrong while you were away. I think that this qualifies. If I can summon something powerful... maybe it can support the guards. Maybe it can give them a better chance to hold him off, without any of them dying."

You can see the desire—and the determination—to protect her subjects in her eyes. You nod approvingly. "That's a good idea. Not without its own risks... but it may be our best option. Though I would advise against trying to summon another demon. Securing the services of one powerful enough to stand against your foe would likely take a few days. Days you may not have."

"So... an elemental then?" asks Lily.

"They are usually the summon of choice when you mortals want quick muscle," you agree. "Though even there you must be cautious. An elemental will still demand a price for their service. For one as powerful as we require, they will most likely want free rein to reshape an area of your world to be more in line with their own essence."

"But whatever you offer, make sure that it is spelled out very clearly. They may not be as conniving as my kind... but even without any intent to deceive, their outlook can be alien enough that they may simply fail to see any issue with, say, a village being in the path of their inferno... or their flash flood... or their cyclone... or their new mountain."

Lily nods. "Which type of elemental do you think would be best?"

You ponder the question. This is a textbook example of why mages usually leave their last summoning slot open; the ability to craft a quick summoning tailored to the specific problem. "Fire probably wouldn't work well," you say. "They tend to be the most aggressive of all the elementals, and the least likely to be concerned about collateral damage. Getting one of them to worry about protecting the other guards would be tricky, to say the least. And on top of all that, we demons tend to be highly resistant to fire anyway. Not a good fit for this enemy."

You start to pace back and forth through the dream of Lily's bedroom, pondering aloud. "I'm also hesitant about earth. Their defense for themselves is second to none, but they're the slowest of the four, and I worry that might be a problem for a task like this. But between water and air..."

Now this is the interesting choice. "Air is the faster and more aggressive of the two, but flighty and difficult to control. Still, their stealth abilities are impressive, and their ability to track movement through the air is exceptional as well. Even if the enemy flees, they might be able to follow it in secret and gather some clues as to where the demon is hiding. Clues that we could have someone investigate later."

You turn once again, pacing back the way you came. "Water, on the other hand, would likely be the strongest at pure defense. Out of all the elements, they'd probably be the one whose actions would be the easiest to guide toward protecting your subjects and your realm. They would likely ensure the absolute minimum of collateral damage overall."

Lily gives careful thought to your words, considering what each choice could entail. The two of you discuss it for a while longer, the young queen asking insightful questions about what each elemental could do. And in the end, she reaches a decision. "Thank you," she says. "I'll do my best here. So stay safe out there, okay?"

You smile. "Always, my mistress."

With that you awaken, opening your eyes and rising to your feet. Mockingbird returns not long after, bearing enough clothes for everyone. To your amusement, even now she hasn't put on her own pilfered clothing, instead completing the entire mission in the nude. When she dresses her small, lithe body, she does it right in front of you. You enjoy the reverse striptease, even as the other girls hurriedly dress as well.

Then it's time to go. "Head to the Grand Cathedral as fast as you can, and tell them you have information on demonic activity," you say. "Tell them Mockingbird and Kavia sent you. That will get the attention of either Mother Imfiel or Lady Alicia. Once you meet one of them... tell them everything that happened here. Don't leave anything out."

The older prostitute gives you an appraising look. But then she nods. "We'll do that," she says. "And... for what it's worth... thank you."

You and Mockingbird watch them depart, though you can feel Mockingbird's eyes you as well. She's surprised that you would just give away your secret like that. "It's what's safest for them," you say, in reply to her unspoken question. "That makes it worth it."

Once they've left, you and Mockingbird follow them in secret for a while, making sure they safely reach the more densely populated areas of the city. Mockingbird is tense the entire time, silently anticipating what she knows is soon to come. Then, as evening creeps toward night, the two of you seek out a room at a different inn. Neither of you say anything, heading up to your lodgings in silence.

Mockingbird enters first, pulling the knives off her belt and tossing them over onto the bed. She jumps a little when she hears the door close behind you. She turns to face you, a hundred different emotions warring behind her mask. "Are you..." she begins. "Are you going to..."

You saunter over to her, putting a sway in Kavia's hips that steals Mockingbird's gaze, without any hope of breaking free. Reaching down, you run a hand along her cheek. Then you slide your fingers into her hair and pull her head right in front of your crotch in a single, commanding move. The halfling's standing height puts her face at just the perfect level. Like she was made for this.

"The real question is..." you purr as you hold her there, your voice teasing her with dark delights. "What are you going to do? Don't tell me the great Mockingbird is going to back down from one last contest with me, to settle everything..."

Mockingbird raises her trembling hands, her small, dexterous fingers working at your belt. She pulls down your breeches enough to reveal your wet snatch. Hesitantly, she leans forward and gives your pussy a tentative lick.

You allow the intoxicating taste of your fluids a moment to sink in, along with the realization of what she just did of her own free will. Then you yank her in tight against you, forcefully directing her movements. She moans into you, her lost little cry of despairing delight vibrating into you, as you manhandle the little thief.

She tries to give as good as she gets. She tries so hard. It's a doomed endeavor, and you both know it. But she still tries anyway. Her tongue starts to find a rhythm, picking up speed as she eats you out with ever-increasing desperation. You guide her efforts with your hand, whispering down advice and commands in equal measure.

All this time, she was so certain that you were the hopeless underdog in your little rivalry. Only now—as that rivalry reaches its ultimate conclusion—does it fully sink how completely she is at your mercy.

But even so, she still doesn't give up.

Her arms wrap around your waist, her hands clinging to your ass, trying to pull herself deeper into you as she worships you with her tongue. She's shuddering, her eyes rolling back in her head as waves of electric pleasure course through her. You haven't even started to fuck her yet, and already she's so wound up and sensitive that she could go off at any moment.

She keeps trying and trying, and eventually you take pity on her, allowing her to bring you to your first climax of the night. Your juices spray across her face as you come, marking her as your property. She looks up at you with a glazed expression, wondering what you're going to do to her next.

You finish stepping out of your breeches, then slowly, sensually strip out of your tight tunic, standing naked before your prey. Then you kneel down and start to undress the rogue, removing her recently-purloined garments, until she's once again naked before you.

Naked except for her all-important mask, that is. It isn't quite time for that yet.

Now you move on her, your bodies pressing together, feeling the warmth of flesh against flesh. Mockingbird shudders in your embrace as you press your breasts against her smaller frame, bearing her backward, until you push her down on the bed behind her. Then you start to eat her out... and any pretense of this being an even match is destroyed.

Mockingbird screams out her exultation until she's hoarse, her small legs thrashing wildly as you work between them, giving no quarter, no mercy. She comes and comes and comes again. Until finally she's left lying limp on her back, her legs askew and dangling off the side of the bed as she gasps for breath.

Now you climb on top of her, your movements sinuous as you press against her, intertwining your bodies. Her mask is askew from all her wild thrashing, so you readjust it for her. Then you slide your fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to look you in the eye as you wrap your naked body close around hers.

And then you kiss her. A long, toe-curling kiss, stretching on and on as your tongue invades her mouth. She melts into you, the kiss giving her a chance to recover some semblance of her strength, while still not actually being a true reprieve. For minute after minute you simply make out there on the bed, all to the sound of the young rogue's enraptured moans.

When she's recovered enough for the final push, you pull away to adjust your position. You start to scissor with her, the halfling's snatch grinding against your own. You begin slow, letting your inexperienced partner get the feel of it, but before long you're both throwing yourselves into the act with ever-greater passion, as you lose yourselves in the urge to make each other feel good. You can tell that conscious thought has long since fled the halfling, leaving nothing behind but sensation and bliss. You reciprocate her efforts tenfold, expertly drawing her to orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

Until finally—with one last back-arching orgasm—you wring everything you possibly can out of her, leaving her slumped and motionless, save for the occasional twitch.

Shifting positions once again, you pull the exhausted young rogue up into your arms. You stroke her hair idly, frenzied sex giving way to relaxed petting. You can feel her breathing against you, as she recovers from what, for most mortals, would be the experience of a lifetime.

For her, however, this will be just the beginning.

As you lie there, waiting for her to pull herself back together, you consider your next move. It's late, but you still probably have time for a dreamwalk, if you so desired.

Of course, Elianna has probably heard the report from the tortured prostitutes by now. Which means that she now knows that the "Kavia" she'd started to develop feelings for was actually a disguised demon all along. What's more, she also knows that you used that guise to seduce the estranged daughter that she's been so worried about. That's... quite the betrayal to take in. Though if you did visit her, you could at least try to soften it at least a little. Either way, though, you doubt that you'll be winning her over on this trip.

Alternatively, you could conserve your energy for other purposes, so you'll have more tricks up your sleeve to use against Zethuriel and Sevariel. You're fast running out of time... but would it be worth risking one more shot at them before you go? If you did, you might need every scrap of Lust at your disposal. After all, their threat is—

But your train of thought is interrupted by the feeling of cold steel pressing against your neck.

You look down, to see that Mockingbird now holds one of her knives in her hand. The knives that she'd tossed onto the bed, before any of this started. She's looking up at you, tears running down her face behind her mask.

"I'm sorry..." she manages to say, in an utterly broken voice. "I... really, really do like you. This was... probably the best night of my life. I want so badly to just... throw everything away and go with you."

The she lets out a strangled noise, only barely recognizable as a laugh. "But, see... that's the funny part. That's why it had to be me. None of the others could do something this awful. None of the others could betray someone they l-love so much. But me..."

She takes a ragged breath. "Me, I'm not a heroine. Not really. I never deserved to be called one of them in the first place. I'm... just a fuckup. A fuckup who always hurts the people she cares about."

You can feel the knife press even harder against your skin as Mockingbird continues. "But... just this once... me being that kind of fuckup can be what saves Elianna, instead of hurting her. Because... I can't betray her again. I can't."

Mockingbird is trembling, blinking through the tears as she looks into Kavia's eyes. Some part of her is clearly expecting you to retaliate. To try and kill her with some demonic power. That would probably make this a lot easier for her.

But instead, you keep your expression gentle as you reach out to wipe some of those tears away that have fallen beyond the edges of her mask. You don't even use any aphrodisiac. Nothing but a compassionate touch.

"It's not a betrayal to find a path of your own and follow it," you say quietly. "That's what you did when you became Mockingbird, isn't it? You found a way to help Elianna... while still being true to yourself."

The rogue flinches, but doesn't say anything. So you keep talking. "You knew she wouldn't have accepted the money, if she'd known where it came from. But you knew she needed it. So you made your own decision. That's part of growing up. That's part of finding your own way in the world. Including all the mistakes we make along the way."

You feel the knife tremble against your throat. "So please..." you say. "Don't talk so poorly about what you've done. Don't talk about all your hard work, like it didn't mean anything. Because I know there are a whole lot of children whose lives are so much happier, because you stole the money they needed from a bunch of rich assholes. You might not care what I think. But if all those kids knew what you did for them... and if you asked them whether or not Mockingbird deserved to be called a heroine... I'm pretty sure I know what they'd say."

Then you lay on the finishing touches. "If you really can't bring yourself to believe that what I showed you tonight was a good thing... If you really believe that I need to die... then I'll understand," you say. "But if you decide that, it's not because you're a 'fuckup'. It's because you truly do care about your mother. And nothing I or anyone else can do will ever take that away."

Mockingbird is outright sobbing now, the dagger shaking so badly it's not even against your throat half the time. Finally, she just lowers it. "That's not fair..." she manages to say through her tears. "That's not fucking fair, Kavia."

You don't say anything more, just hold her as she cries against you, rubbing her back soothingly. It takes a long time for her to regain even a semblance of calm. But after she does, she eventually looks up at you.

"Hey," she says through a sniffle. "Kavia. Show me. The real you."

You comply with her request, the shape you've worn among the heroines for these past days bleeding away into your winged demonic form. Mockingbird's eyes widen slightly, as she drinks in every detail of your supernaturally alluring physique.

"Can I make the same request?" you ask. It takes Mockingbird a moment to realize what you mean. Her hands start to rise to her face, but then stop, hesitating just shy of touching her mask. Even though she knows it's not concealing anything from you... what the mask means for her remains undiminished.

And yet, slowly, she does take hold of it and pull it off. The face underneath is no earthshaking revelation; you easily pick out the echoes of the little girl you saw in that old memory. A little girl who has now become a young woman, at the very beginning of adulthood. Plain brown hair with a small smattering of freckles. A welcoming, girl-next-door sort of ordinary pretty.

From the way she can't meet your eyes anymore, it's clear that this is a big step for Polly. A terrifying display of trust. One that leaves her vulnerable to you in a way she hasn't been vulnerable to anyone in a long time. And now she's waiting to see how you respond.

So in reply, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead. Then pull her close against you once more, holding each other tight as the curtain of night falls around you both.