Shooting to Win
#13 of The Shepsisters & Yote
A drug lord needs taking down, but is the battlefield REALLY the time, Yote?
Laughing...at...my...own...jokes...!
Just read. This will make you squee if you are a Yote X Dora fan. WHICH I VERY MUCH AM!
This story has been available for early reading on Patreon for one month! Please check the tiers on the following link if you would like to support!
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/arianmabe
My erotic eBooks are available on Kindle and Smashwords worldwide also!
Kindle (Alis Mitsy):https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byl.....=relevancerank
Kindle (Arian Mabe):https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_.....k%3Aarian+mabe
Smashwords:https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ArianMabe
As always, I am open for commissions! Please see my profile for up to date links and rates! Any topic goes! <3
Characters (c) D.C. Yote
Story (c) Arian Mabe / Amethyst Mare
Shooting to Win
_ _
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by D.C. Yote
_ _
_ _
Everyone who was anyone knew about Milo and what his business was, even if the powers that were couldn't prove his deeds in a court of law. As sly as the serpents that his estate was rumoured to harbour, venomous devils curling through the ancient stonework of the perimeter wall, the anthro Caiman languished in his ill-gotten riches, laughing at those who dared oppose him. No one seemed to go up against him for long, vanishing each and every time in decidedly dubious circumstances.
It was the way of a drug lord, although the rough-skinned member of the alligator family would have begged to differ. Never seen without a tailored suit, he was said not to partake in the trade he fed, though that was up for debate. The Caiman was shorter than most - as was the way of his species - and his smile, eerily similar to those of the crocodilian persuasion, held no promises that his teeth couldn't keep. With a body designed to catch small fish in the time of his ancestors, the Caiman had found a way to take down larger and larger prey. But even an ambitious predator was capable of biting off more than he could chew.
That was why the Shepsisters had been sent in to take him down. Along with the mostly trusted Yote, of course. Dora's pet and boyfriend, depending on who she was speaking to at the time, hardly left her side and that included their missions too. A suitably well-trained coyote assassin who had had a penchant for being caught in the Shepsisters traps early on, he'd transformed into a killing machine worthy of joining their team. Or, if he wasn't, no one would have dared to say so anyway - to Yote or the Shepsisters.
To the rear of the mansion, the trio hunkered down, devoid even of a vehicle that would have allowed them a moderately swift getaway. The palatial estate was out in the middle of nowhere - just the way most in less than wholesome trades liked it - and had had no expense spared in its luxury. Any approaching vehicle, whether on land or in the air, would be spotted immediately and so a more covert operation had been called for. Luckily, the Shepsisters were the best assassins for the job and it really didn't pay to piss them off either.
And that was just what Milo had done. Yote grimaced, wiped the back of his paw across his mouth.
"What can we expect on the other side?" He murmured, voice low as the grasslands around them whispered in the soft breeze, oddly serene for the carnage pushing in at the back of his mind. "Anything new?"
Danica inhaled slowly, deeply, and rolled her shoulders back.
"Nothing. We'll be going in on what I have."
"That doesn't sound particularly positive."
"Oh, you two worry too much!" Dora chuckled, flipping an army knife from one paw to the other. "Seriously, where's your sense of fun gone?"
Danica stared at her blankly, the German Shepherd's hair pulled back in a tight, serious bun.
"We're on the job, Dora, this isn't all fun and games like the last one. Though I don't see how you can take blood spilling as so much of a game as you do."
Her blond-haired sister, hair grown slightly longer so that the sharply cut hairs brushed her shoulders, huffed and flipped her paw.
"If you take the fun away, we'll have to stop and take a good, hard look at what we're doing. And, I don't know about you, but I don't think that's really for me." The canine winced, black lips twisting in an uncharacteristic grimace. "We do what we do and that's enough. If I like seeing heads explode, what more do you want me to take from it?"
Her sister cast her a sidelong look that only the coyote caught. Lips pressed together, he said nothing.
"Oddly introspective for you," Danica said, pushing the words out slowly. "I'd almost say you're finally growing up."
"I know, right?"
Danica sighed and hefted her firearm, the Ruger Mini 14 ranch rifle loaded and ready to do what it was designed to do. Light enough in her paws, it wouldn't hinder her in their mission.
"Let's get on with it."
"Oh, lighten up! Jeez, girl!"
"And don't call me that."
Dora clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
"Touchy,touchy. I'll get us in, don't you worry your pretty little head about the details."
Clad in camouflage gear that afforded her the best chance of blending into the waving grass of the plains, which supplied shockingly little cover, Dora dug into her belt and hoisted out a small, otherwise innocuous black ball. If not for the pin sticking from the top, no one would have guessed its true use without further inspection. Danica's eyes shot wide and she flung her arm out.
"Dora!"
But it was too late. Swinging her arm back and up in a wide arc, the German Shepherd cackled as she launched the grenade, latched onto her comrades and threw them to the ground. The explosion shook them, though it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been, only setting their ears ringing and sending a rippling shockwave out as it blasted a hole in the tall wall. Rock and debris crumbled and exploded out in all directions, a sizeable chunk landing in front of Yote's muzzle as spat out dirt. Swearing, he staggered upright, jaw set and ears back, every bit of him the image of a coyote on a mission he wasn't about to fail.
Show time, bitches.
"Everyone's going to know we're here now!" Danica spat, ducking back behind the edge of the ruined wall, concealing herself away from the gaping hole. "You fucking idiot!"
Dora shook her head, a grin stretching her lips wide as her teeth flashed.
"Danica, dear sister. He's known we were coming for a long time. And it wasn't that big of an explosion!"
"It was enough!"
Yote snapped his head to the side, ears pricked and eyes wild. The ringing in his ears died down slowly, too slowly, but not slowly enough for him to not notice the stream of bodies heaving from the back entrance of the mansion. The writhing, throbbing mass of fur, scales - hell, there were even some avians in there - had no rhyme or reason to their direction. He could only have supposed that Milo had plenty of warm bodies to spare in his trade, all in the business of hitting that elusive high again and again.
But their blood was up as the smoke cleared and one trained as he was could not fail to clock the weapons in their paws - all firearms, of course. He wrinkled his muzzle. Sometimes life was just a little bit too predictable. Couldn't they have turned out bearing pickaxes or something? That would have at least added a bit more drama in. Behind him, Danica sucked in a breath and swore.
Well, no time like the present.
The coyote bared his teeth, lips drawn up into a fearsome grin without the hint of any humour behind it.
"Time to get cooking!"
Ignoring their yells of him not making any sense - honestly, how did they expect him to be saner than them? - Yote leapt into the fray, firearm at the ready. A new one to him, or at least one he hadn't had in his paws for a while, the M4 carbine was designed to work at close quarters and purred_in his grip. It was even outfitted with tan furniture. How could he have ever left it to rest for so long? He smiled faintly. _Welcome back.
There was only one way to take on an opponent when the odds were against a coyote and he braced himself, ears back to mow them down, one by one. Species and gender ceased to matter to him as he raked the pretty lawns with fire, round after round of bullets soaring through what had previously been undisturbed and untainted air. Automatic, the gun was not, but that feature at the very least allowed him to save valuable ammo, calculating the deaths against what he still bragged in his clip.
The blood would not seep entirely into the dry soil for many months after the sprinkler system was turned off. And, if there was no drama to be had, the coyote would simply have to create it for himself.
With Dora flanking him, he charged past the first splatter of downed bodies, hefting the gun to the side and going for his knife to slit the throat of a particularly wild-eyed boar. The pig's eyes bulged and he collapsed to the ground, clutching at his throat, but Yote was already moving on, retreating to his firearm as Dora made use of her throwing knives. They found their targets as surely as they sank into the practice dummies at home, the throng wavering as they threatened to break.
He smirked, blinking sweat from his eyes, blood roaring in his ears. They always broke. And nothing would stop him fighting the good fight as long as he lived.
Maybe just a little bit of it was done with the aim of impressing Dora, however, as he spared a wink that the German Shepherd didn't see and took charge of his grenades. Overkill for such a job, but they were there to make an impression and that was just what they would do.
They didn't scatter for the first grenade, but the toppled as it struck and exploded, chunks of rubble flying off in all directions as the mansion gave up the ghost it had been hiding for too long. He snarled and launched two more, ensuring the wickedly giggling German Shepherd had a good amount of space to do the work she did without being in any more danger than normal.
Sweat, blood and fire... The three raw components of a good day. Not so much a good fuck, but there was nothing else that got a coyote's blood up like tearing someone down who had never deserved to rise so high, through illicit means, in the first place. The mansion crumbled, bit by bit, the gaping holes revealing rooms furnished in finery that one could only imagine, the few occupants within scattering like ants from a giant's boot.
Their target was still yet to be found, however, and they forged on, drawing right up to the foot of the mansion as the slew of bodies came to a halt, dust swirling amongst the broken tile and chunks of painted wall. Yote twisted his lips proudly. The place would never be fit to inhabit again. That was a very good thing.
_ _
As the smoke swirled, the few figures that remained ducking back into what little protection the broken shell of the mansion could still provide, Yote caught Dora's eye, the canine spinning her pink pair of Glock 19s, one in each paw.
"You having fun there, Yote?" She giggled, eyes glinting with that edge of crazy that set his heart pounding so. "It's been a while!"
He stared at her, chest heaving and blood up.
"Sure has," he said, drawling and drawing out his words. "And you've got the hydra-shock loaded again. That's so..."
He smiled, the look he gave her entirely out of place on the battlefield.
"Will you marry me?"
The canine froze.
"What did you just say?"
Heart in his mouth, the coyote smoothed down the sweaty fur on the back of his neck, eyes flicking between the yawning husk of the mansion and his mistress, his girlfriend. The mission groaned unfinished, yet he could not have thought of a place where he'd have rather been than by her side, always and forever.
"You heard me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Will you marry me, Dora?"
The canine gaped like a fish and, if they had been anywhere else, he would have burst into hysterics.
_ _
"It's about fucking time!" Danica shrieked, slapping the butt of her rifle. "Jesus Christ, I thought you were going to be middle-aged and greying before you actually found the balls, Yote!"
Yote folded his ears back as Dora whipped her head around, ice-blue eyes flashing.
"How about you keep your nose out of this one?" She fingered a pink pistol, gleaming with the potential of a fresh load. "Maybe this one is between me and him, sister. Just us."
Danica rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please, Dora, you couldn't keep something just between the two of you if you sealed yourself away in a locked vault. Haven't you seen his Twitter account?"
The coyote gulped and shook his head quickly as Dora turned her steely gaze on him.
"What have you been saying?"
"It's nothing bad, I promise..."
Her eyes narrowed.
"We'll see about that."
"Yeah, you and the rest of the world," Danica chipped in with a smirk, attention half on her ranch rifle, a buzzing, grating sound whirring closer and closer. "But is this really the time? I mean, I know full blunder is really what your style is all about, but that rat-bastard's gonna get away if we don't move it."
As if to back her up, a helicopter appeared over the top of the mansion, kitted out in the most ostentatious chrome that really had no business being on a 'copter in the first place. Yote growled and curled his paw into a fist, short claws biting viciously into his palm.
Fuck!
_ _
They didn't have to ask to know who was on the roof, standing impatiently while the transport located a suitable spot to land. If his heart had not been pounding so wildly, he would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the drug lord extraordinaire himself not having a pad on top of his mansion. It really was a rookie mistake.
There was no time to dwell and consider what their next moved should have been as the smoke cleared beneath the whirring blades, revealing the next horde of goons. The coyote snarled and checked his weapons: all in place bar the grenades he'd foolishly spent early in the fight - well, all bar that one. It was a wonder that he had any left to throw at them, but he supposed living bodies were a cheap trade in the business of illegal drugs, as much as the thought made him want to deposit the contents of his stomach on Milo's once groomed lawn.
Ducking behind the ruins of what could have been a reception room at one point, the furs blended into one, species not making a blind bit of difference as Danica got them in her sights. The first foolish enough to think he could fire about the makeshift parapet received a smart bullet directly through the eye and out the back of his skull in a spatter of brains and blood. The second was lucky enough to only catch it in the shoulder. Danica cursed.
"Move out! I've got you covered," she snarled, eyes locked on her targets. "They won't touch you."
He knew she was right. Ready to shoot, Yote clenched his teeth and shot Dora a look, muzzle twisted into a grimace. There just wasn't enough time. He flinched. There never was.
"Are you going to give me an answer?"
The canine considered, the faintest hint of indecision - or could it have been something else? - flickering across her gaze as she turned her muzzle away. For a moment, the world slowed around him, adrenaline pumping through his veins and heartbeat quickening into a dull roar and throb against his eardrums. What would she say? Would it be the answer he'd hoped for? Or a bad answer - worse than his love struck, adrenaline fuelled mind could have dreamed up? Had he pushed too far? Had he misunderstood what their relationship actually was?
His eyes widened, breathing sharply shallow, each breath raking through his lungs with greater difficulty than the previous. Oh god, he really shouldn't have asked her in the middle of a gunfight!
Sweating, the coyote tried to snap his attention back to the matter at hand, telling himself with a stern, mental slap upside the head that it wasn't the time or the place. But it had just slipped out! And yet their target was on the roof, private 'copter buzzing like an obstinate gnat as the bastard made good his escape. His heart sank and he licked his lips, fighting off a sudden wave of nausea that threatened his senses with dizziness.
Focus! Damn you!
_ _
He couldn't think about whether he'd fucked it all up or not: there was a job to be done. Studiously avoiding Dora's eyes - had she really not moved since he'd asked if she was going to answer him? - the coyote set himself back on his heels, digging inside his jacket for a weapon that he'd really hoped he wouldn't have to use. She'd like it though. Against himself, his lips pulled up in a half-hearted, sheepish smile. She always did.
If he'd really blown everything, there was only one way to redeem himself. And he had all the tools needed to do that in supreme style, as always.
"What did I say?" Danica snarled, anger curling her upper lip back from her teeth. "I know you two've got some right shit going on now, but you've got to get your heads back in the game!"
Yote held up his paw, ears flicking to catch the hail of bullets soaring harmlessly over their heads.
"I got this."
Danica's ear twitched towards him, but she didn't take her sight off the enemy as more poured out of the ruins - far more than her intelligence said should have been present. Grinding her teeth together hard enough to make her jaw ache, the German Shepherd braced herself.
"What?" She forced out, ears back. "What the hell did you just say?"
Tapping the side of his muzzle, the coyote grinned his traditional trickster's smile
"Going to cause a little chaos!"
Danica laughed as Dora stared after her boyfriend, shoulders uncharacteristically rounded. Digging her in the ribs, the brunette sister leapt into action, chasing her own kind of high.
"Well, you going after him or what?"
That seemed to be all Dora needed as she shuddered into motion, paws moving instinctively to follow Yote up the ruin of rubble. The broken and shattered exterior wall gave them enough nooks and ledges to dig fingers and boot-toes into as they scaled the beast with such speed that it was as if it was a creature that would throw them off at any moment. It would have been easier if they'd had hooks and proper climbing gear, but where would the fun have been in that?
Glancing back at Dora as he clung to the precipice of the roof, Yote howled out a laugh and pumped his fist in the air, swinging dangerously. The wind from the helicopter blades whipped his fur up and he briefly wondered what had happened to his gun. No matter though.
He wouldn't need it.
"Let's finish this!"
Meeting his grin with her own, the crazy blonde canine could not have agreed with him more.
And Milo came down as they always knew he would, which was not the purpose of the re-telling of their tale later. It was merely the backdrop for a far greater leap of faith, the more insane member of the Shepsisters dispatching the drug lord with a single, tasteful shot to the head.
"You okay?" He said, wiping off her blade on Milo's jacket, the Caiman's face forever frozen in an expression of horror. "I expected you to make more of a mess of that one." He chuckled and shook his head. "That is your way. There's nothing even here for Danica to whine about having to get cleaned up by the team! This is tame by your standards!"
Laughing, his voice died out awkwardly in the silence, loud after the rancour of their mission. She said nothing at first, facing out over the blasted, destroyed grounds, bodies littering the tended soil. Crushed flower beds fluttered with torn petals, crushed into oblivion, at the front of the mansion remained shockingly intact whilst the rear gaped and screamed at the just horrors only then committed.
Right had come to the land.
Shaking his head, he tucked the knife back into the sheath on her thigh. A small smile pulled the corners of his lips up and yet he said nothing as Dora's expression turned wistful, the breeze picking up her sharply cut blonde hair from her shoulders.
"Yote?"
He lifted his head, ears pricked as if startled to be addressed.
"Yes?"
Dora smiled.
"Yes."