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The Elemental Portals

Book I – Terra

Chapter IX – A Tale of Two Assassins

The conversation between Jimmy and his mother, Aurora, had fallen into silence as he contemplated the gems stones that were his inheritance. Taking a pouch that had held some of the smaller and less valuable stones from the box he placed the diamond, the blue sapphire, the emerald and the pale star sapphire within it. After some hesitation he added the black pearl from his uncle Rory.

The vixen pursed her lips. “Are you sure you want to take that one?

Jimmy closed the pouch and put it inside his tunic. “Yes. Maybe one day I'll have the opportunity to give it back to him." Somewhere where it will hurt going in, he added to himself.

Aurora read his mind. “Before you make any plans, I suggest you speak with the remaining assassin. Maybe you can get him to confirm our suspicions."

“I'm not sure I could face him. He's not the one that killed father, but he might have well as been. Every time I think of it my mind goes black and I just want to …" He didn't have finish, the way his tendons stood out on his fists was enough to make the point.

“Your father had to deal with a lot of people that disgusted him, not the least of which was your uncle, but he forced himself to remain calm and level-headed and he did what he had to do; whether that meant reaching an agreement, asking for a favour or fighting them to the death. He had a special breathing technique he used when he needed to clear his mind."

“Yes, he taught it to me, but I thought it was only to find focus before a martial arts bout. I never suspected I would need it to deal with a life-or-death situation."

“Try it now."

Jimmy sat straight up on the edge of the seat and let his mind empty. His breathing became deep and slow, with a long pause before inhaling or exhaling. That was supposed to allow his brain to take full advantage of the oxygen in his blood. As his breathing slowed so did his heartbeat, and if anyone had been taking his blood pressure it would been seen to be falling too. After a minute he was in an almost trance-like state, yet fully aware of his surroundings; more aware really, as he could tune out unimportant sounds and focus on distant noises or low tones in this state.

He ignored the cracking of the fire in the hearth and the bubbling of a stew set above it. He let the noises from the nearby fields where the farmers were rebuilding their burned fences fade away. One by one the sounds of the hustle and bustle of everyday activity disappeared until all that was left was birdsong and insect chirps. Two sounds that said all was safe … for now.

After a few minutes his anger had dissolved, replaced by resolve. He stood up and stuck his father's sword through his belt.

“I'll go see the prisoner now."

“Good."

The walk to the village was short, but this time none of the farmers or villagers made unpleasant comments as he passed. Something in the way he walked made them hold their tongues. Maybe it was the way he held his head, or the steady glare of eyes focused into the distance. Or maybe it was the angle of the sword at his hip and the free hand that did not swing but remained close to the hilt, ready to grasp it.

The captured assassin was locked up in what passed for a jail for Dougs-ur-Mark. Normally it would not have held a professional like Chris Cinereo for long but Paul Colliman, having had some experience with assassins, had removed all of the weapons and lock-picks he had cached about his body, and not gently either. It would be some weeks before the fur grew back in places. Gael Tholkes had also reinforced the bars and replaced the lock on the door with one of his own invention that required a pair of specially forged keys to open.

The only way to escape was to overcome the guard when he was delivering a meal or after faking illness, but strangely enough the grey fox had made no such attempt. In fact, he showed no sign of even wanting to escape. Jimmy found him sitting naked and filthy on the hard cot, staring at the floor.

Chris barely lifted his head to see who it was that had come to disturb him.

“Have you come to kill me to avenge your father?"

“Should I?"

“Most people would say 'yes', but it would probably be unnecessary."

“How so?"

Chris threw his head back and sighed. “I'm a failed assassin. Worse, we killed the wrong person, I can see that now. My life is forfeit for bringing shame upon the guild."

“That sounds rather harsh. It was the boar that shot my father and the red fox with the scar on his face that actually finished him off. You were nowhere near when it happened."

“That doesn't matter. The guild is very strict and weeding out failures is the only way of assuring quality control. Can't have half-assed non-guild assassins running around ruining the reputation of the rest." He rolled his head despondently. “Now I'll either be executed or locked up until I die, which won't be long they way they feed prisoners here."

His forlorn tone stirred something inside Jimmy. The human stepped a little closer to the bars but was careful to stay out of the assassin's reach.

“Why haven't you tried to get out? Paul said that assassins are specially trained in escape techniques."

“What's the point? I have the stink of the city on me and I could never fit in with the agrarian types in this district. Word would spread faster than I could travel, and I would be killed on sight by the peasants. Meanwhile it would be crawling through the muck, stealing food from barns and shivering in a hole in the ground at night because I can't risk a fire. If I tried to go back to the city, any city, the guild would track me down and the result would be the same. I'd be always looking over my shoulder, afraid of my own shadow. No, the inevitably short life of a fugitive does not appeal to me."

Jimmy shifted the sword at his hip. “Would you prefer that I killed you now? You certainly deserve it."

“My, aren't we the righteous one. Who are you to judge me?"

“The son of the man you killed."

“I know that … now at least. But you must have done something pretty bad to get a contract put on you."

“Me? I've never done anything bad in my life."

“Sure about that, are you?"

Anger flared again in Jimmy's chest. Then he paused, controlled his breathing and thought about it. He had done some bad things lately; made bad decisions that had contributed to the death and misery that had visited Dougs-ur-Mark and his best friend, Annie. But as Aurora had said, he was not the one who had sent the assassins or set the explosives that had blown away the portal.

“I haven't done anything that would justify sending assassins after me, and neither had my father. You, on the other hand, are a murderer."

“Careful the way you label people. On this world there is a big difference between assassination and murder. One is a wonton act and the other is a respected profession."

“You kill for a living."

“So what? Lots of folk kill for a living, at least part of the time. Soldiers, police, judges, executioners, politicians … the list is practically endless. The collie that came to interrogate me and the blacksmith have both killed, I can tell, yet you are friends with them. Hell, even the rabbit that helped corner me would have taken my head if she could have."

Chris looked straight at Jimmy for the first time. “I'm not a bad person, just tainted by my profession. All … most … of the people we are hired to assassinate are as bad as the clients that seek to do them in. The guild vets them very carefully to make sure that we aren't just engaging in petty thuggery … at least they are supposed to. Sometimes … rarely … a client offers so much money that the masters don't check very carefully."

Chris hung his head again. “So much that a junior assassin would be blinded by ambition, because they could buy their master's ticket with a single killing."

“So, this is it for you then."

“Yep."

“If you have nothing to lose, why didn't you reveal who you client was when Paul asked you?"

“Because he didn't use the magic word!" Chris snapped, but he regretted it immediately as Jimmy turned to leave.

“No, no! Wait, don't go! Look, I'm a little on edge, what with the hunger and the bruising and all. I'll tell you why."

Jimmy stopped hallway through the door. “Why?"

“At first it was because of the assassin's code, not to reveal any information about a client, but I soon realized that loyalty to the code would not cut me any slack with the guild. I've been holding out in the hope that you would come and ask me personally."

Jimmy turned, but suspecting a ploy to kill him and regain favour with his guild he kept the doorway between him and the cell.

“Okay, for my sake, can you tell me who your client was … please?"

Chris sat up. “I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to kill me right away if you don't like what I have to say, and after, you have to hear a proposal that I have for you."

“I won't commit to agreeing with your proposal ahead of hearing it."

“No need. If you don't accept it you can kill me as an answer, but just hear it through and promise to think about it before you do."

Jimmy's brows furrowed but he could see no disadvantage to listening to the fox's proposal as payment for the information he wanted.

“Alright then. Let's have the answer to my question first though."

“The client was a red fox from Dainis. Sevade, the assassin that escaped, recognized him as Rory Douglas, the fox that runs the reclamation pits, and … whoa! You promised to hear me out!"

Anger had welled up again inside Jimmy when his suspicions were confirmed and, without realizing it, his hand had gone to the hilt of his father's katana and drawn the blade halfway out. He slid the blade back hard and nodded at the grey fox to continue.

“Yes, like I said. The client was Rory Douglas from Dainis. He has a, uhm, brutal reputation." Chris waited nervously for the red-headed human's response.

Jimmy had fallen back into the breathing technique that helped him regain his composure. “Thank you. That confirms what we suspected. Now what is your proposal?"

“That I make the Life Pledge to you."

Jimmy was confused. “The what now?"

Chris looked shocked. “The Life Pledge. Where I pledge my life to you. Never heard of it?"

“No."

Chris shook his head at the ignorance of the human. “It works like this: My life is forfeit for failing to kill you, but as the client you can accept my pledge that I will lay down my life for you. I essentially become your bodyguard. I would always be by your side to ward off any attack, ready to throw myself into the path of a crossbow bolt or a poison dart."

“You would be my slave?"

“Not exactly. I would do anything that keeps you alive and healthy, hunt for food, gather firewood, stand watch at night, but I'm not going to wipe your ass or tuck you into bed at night."

“But if I go after Rory, you'll help me?"

“I cannot kill him for you, that would be infringing on the Guild's territory and would invalidate my pledge. Still, it can be very useful having someone who knows all the tricks of the assassins along for the trip." Chris raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?"

Jimmy shook his head. “I could never trust you."

“Yes, you can. The life pledge is taken very seriously by those of us who follow the Maker. Check with your friends the collie and the horse. They'll confirm that what I say is true."

Jimmy stared long and hard into the fox's yellow eyes. He saw no fear or deception in them.

“Alright. I'll go speak with Paul and Gael. Assuming they collaborate your story, I'll give your proposal some thought and them return with my answer."

“Take your time, I have nowhere to go."

* * * * * * * *

Sevade was quite pleased with his treatment by the servants of Rory Douglas at the castle in Dainis. Since arriving and turning over the hank of red hair to the bald human Ross he had been kept in seclusion in a nice suite of rooms and provided with every amenity. There was food whenever he was hungry, wine and beer and even hard spirits, and the offer of the companionship of either sex from any species he chose, even human.

If this is what being rich was like he could not wait to get used to it, and with Wart dead and Chris missing he would have the entire reward to himself, along with the prestige of completing a contract for a top-notch client.

He was thinking about where he would set up his new guild and how much he could skim off the earnings of the apprentices and work-a-day assassins when he heard a knock on the door.

He wasn't expecting any services so he made sure that his knives were loose in their sheaths before calling, “Come in."

The tall, bald human, Ross, entered the room. “Mister Douglas will see you now." he said. “He is prepared to settle the contract."

“Just me? The grey fox hasn't shown up claiming a share, his he?"

“No. He is still missing, captured, from what we hear. Mister Douglas is convinced that you alone are to receive what is owed for the outcome at Dougs-ur-mark."

“Good. It's about time I had some recognition"

“Not to worry, Master Sevade, Mister Douglas will see that you get everything that you deserve."

Sevade was pleased by Ross's use of the term 'Master', even though he had not yet officially been granted the title. He was sure that it would not be long before it was though.

Ross gestured for Sevade to follow him and they proceeded through the narrow, winding corridors of the castle.

They stopped in a comfortable antechamber where Ross gestured towards a side table.

“No weapons allowed in Mister Douglas's presence. You understand, I'm sure."

“Of course." Sevade took off the two blades strapped to his forearms and four more from inside his tunic and placed them all on the table.

Ross stood quietly, staring at the red fox with the deep scar down his face.

“Something wrong, Ross?"

“You're are known as Sevade of the seven blades, are you not? I only count six on the table."

“Oh, yes." Sevade pulled a blade thin enough to fillet fish rom the small of his back. “Forgive me, it's just a little thing I use to clean my claws with." He tossed it to the table and it stuck deep in the wood.

Ross gestured him through the door, standing back as Sevade passed into what he assumed were Rory Douglas's private chambers. Sevade kept half an eye on Ross and the rest on where he was going. There was a short entrance corridor between the rooms and Sevade wondered why that would be necessary, but the thought was driven from his mind when he saw Rory Douglas on the far side of a large sitting room with a huge smile on his foxy face and his arms open in welcome.

Two steps into the room he discovered the purpose of the corridor, it was there to create an alcove on either side where a pair of massive bodyguards could stay hidden until Mister Douglas's guest was well into the room and then come up behind them. They did so now, and pinned Sevade's arms so firmly against his sides that they cut off his circulation. Then they lifted him clear off the floor so that his flailing legs could find no purchase.

“Relax, Sevade. Max and Billy just need to confirm that you are unarmed."

The two thugs, a human and a short-haired canine, each as thick as an oak and twice as strong, did a professional job of searching Sevade's outfit. They found several small blades, two garrottes, five poisoned darts, three smoke bombs, one vial of some noxious serum and a freshly sharpened pencil. They removed all of them along with Sevade's clothes, leaving him naked in the middle of the room.

“Nothing up his orifices?"

“No, Sir. The ewe he was with last night checked."

“That bitch ...."

“Oh, please, I'm sure you enjoyed it. Nice scars, by the way. I hear that you Assassins are inordinately proud of such things. Reminds me of a thing they have on earth called a 'Hockey Goalie'. Do you know what they call a 'Hockey Goalie' with three teeth?"

“Uh, no?"

“A rookie." Rory laughed for a moment before composing himself. “But that is beside the point. What is important is that now we can talk, fox to fox, about how your mission went."

Something in the client's toothy smile set off warning bells in Sevade's mind.

“Did your servant Ross not show you the hair of the victim which I brought back?"

“No. He sent it through the portal here to a place on earth where they can test such things and provide definitive proof that the sample came from a particular person and you guess what they said?"

Sevade had been holding his hands over his groin more for protection than modesty and now he gripped his parts more firmly as fear began to shrink them.

“Uh, no."

“They said ... THAT YOU KILLED THE WRONG FUCKING HUMAN, YOU IDIOT!"

Rory stopped and rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger before he gave himself an aneurism.

“They said," he continued, flicking his hand at Sevade while his eyes blazed, “that you killed the wrong human. You killed the father of the target, who was a good twenty-five years older."

“Bu- ... but Mister Douglas ... your instructions said a young red-haired human, and he was the only one we saw in the village for the three days we watched. The only human at all, in fact. He looked very young and, uh, vigorous, how were we to know that a younger one was lurking somewhere about? Besides, who can tell them apart at all?"

Rory rolled his fingers in a manner that made his claws click. For foxes this was a prelude to a ferocious attack. But he held himself back and instead looked inquisitively at the other fox.

“The sheep you were with last night, was she an ewe or a lamb?"

Sevade looked confused. “An ewe."

“How did you know? You are not a sheep, are you?"

“No, she just ... looked more experienced ... than ..."

“Ah! She looked more experienced. And did the human you were stalking look less experienced than say, someone who has managed a successful business across several worlds while he defied and evaded my wrath for the best part of twenty years?"

“Uh ..."

“DID HE?"

“Mister Douglas, you blood pressure."

Sevade had not noticed when Ross came into the room and fairly jumped out of his skin when the voice of the tall bald man came from right behind his ear.

“Yes, thank you, Mister Ross. Do me the honour of explaining to young Sevade here the magnitude of his error."

Ross proceeded to do so, in a voice so flat and devoid of emotion that it chilled Sevade's spine more than Douglas's outbursts did.

“So," Rory concluded after Ross had finished, “you not only failed to kill your intended target, you murdered an innocent … a somewhat innocent … bystander. You do know what the guild rules on that are, don't you?"

“I've never been a real fan of the old guild system and their archaic rules. They are more like guidelines, anyway."

Rory shook his head and smiled.

“You know, Sevade, I like you. Here you are naked and unarmed between two creatures that could tear you in half with no effort, and they are not half as dangerous together as Mister Ross behind you there is alone, yet you have the balls to toy with words. It almost makes me want to forgive you. Almost."

The red fox strode back and forth in front of Sevade, his brows furrowed in deep thought. An ancient survival instinct kept Sevade's lips sealed while the client pondered his fate. Finally, after a few moments Rory stopped and turned to face the naked fox.

“Do you want to live?"

“What? Of course I want to live ... I mean yes, Sir, I would like to live."

“Will you give me your Life Pledge?"

Sevade thought hard. The Life Pledge would bind him to Rory Douglas until one of them died, but what choice did he have? Once the Assassins' Guild fond out about his failure he was dead anyway and being pledged to the failed client was the only way he could go on living without looking over his shoulder constantly. But making the Life Pledge also meant abandoning the only profession he had ever wanted to master, and he was not sure he could live like that.

It seemed that Rory Douglas could read his mind.

“You're upset because you can't be an assassin anymore, but don't despair, I have a solution for that too."

Sevade looked hard at the other fox. “How could that be?

“You will only be banned from acting as an assassin IF the guild finds out about your failure. You will make your Life Pledge to me, in writing, and it will be our little secret. Of course, from this point forward, you will only assassinate those I want you to assassinate, for free of course. Your room and board and continued existence will be compensation enough, don't you think?"

To ply his trade, a trade he loved, without reward? To live in servitude to a single client? To give up his dream of starting his own guild here in Dainis? That was hard enough to take, but what if after all that the truth leaked out to the guild anyway? Then it would all have been for naught.

Again, Douglas anticipated his fears.

“Don't worry about the truth getting out. There is no advantage to me revealing it and Mister Ross can be trusted explicitly."

“What about your guards?"

Without warning the two goons dropped to the floor on either side of Sevade. His forearm knives were buried hilt deep in their backs.

Sevade had not even seen Ross move. He turned his head and stared at the human with new respect.

“Are you in the guild on your world?"

“No, Mister Sevade. I'm an independent." Sevade noted that Ross no longer addressed him as Master.

“I can't wait all day, Sevade. What's your answer?"

Sevade's eyes flicked back and forth between the knives in the former bodyguards' backs, gauging the distance. Ross's voice cane from directly behind him.

“Do you really think that you are faster than me?"

Sevade slumped, defeated. “I'll give my Life Pledge to you."

“Sorry? Speak up boy! Say it like you mean it, on your knees."

The assassin dropped to his knees between the two fallen guards. His hands were dangerously close to the knives, but he could feel Ross's heightened tension behind him. He folded his hands in front of his chest and bowed his head, much as he had done when he took the Assassin's oath.

“With the Maker as my witness, I pledge my life to you, Rory Douglas."

“Take your knives."

Surprised, Sevade just stared at the other fox for a moment before he gingerly reached down and pulled his two large knives out of the corpses. He did not dare look around at Ross for fear that the bald killer might interpret it as a prelude to an attack.

“Good. You can step back, Mister Ross."

Sevade heard the man retreat down the short corridor to where the door would be, far out of reach if the assassin decided to lunge at his master.

“Now, Sevade, prove that your oath is true"

Rory had his eyes locked on those of the assassin as Sevade raised his head. Rory was apprehensive, but also a little excited. He hadn't gotten where he was without taking a few risks and he missed the feeling that came when there was nothing to do but wait and see which way the cards fell.

Sevade turned his blades to point toward himself and held the handles toward Rory Douglas. The other fox stepped forward, never taking his eyes off those of the assassin, and put his hands on the hilts. This was the moment, Rory thought, when he either submits or dies in a last-ditch attempt to kill me.

Which will it be? he wondered. For fifty heartbeats he kept his hands on the knives without grasping them, leaving Sevade plenary of opportunity to spin them about and plunge them into Rory's chest.

On the fifty-first beat he took the knives and stepped back. “I accept your pledge, Sevade. And you'll get your knives back, I promise, when the time comes; you'll need them in my service."

Three paces behind Sevade, Ross returned a loaded crossbow to the niche it had been hidden in and returned to his relaxed pose and blank stare before the former assassin could turn about.

“Follow me, Mister Sevade. We have new quarters for you."

“Can I have my clothes back first?"

“No. I'm not convinced that those two lunkheads did a proper search. But we will provide you with some fresh clothes after you settle in.

Sevade followed the tall human out of the antechamber. He wondered if he dare try to take the bald killer with his bare hands, but then got to wondering where his fillet knife had gotten to and abandoned the plan. They wove their way through unfamiliar corridors to a level below ground. There Ross motioned him towards a stainless-steel door that had a built-in lock. As metal was so precious on Terra the door was an impressive statement not only as to Douglas's wealth but also to the importance he placed on securing whatever was inside.

The door was unlocked and Sevade stepped though the opening.

Inside the floor, ceiling and walls were made of solid, chilly stone, but there were two real beds and an oak table with two chairs. The smell of fresh water, soap and toilet facilities emanated from a narrow passage at the far end of the room, as well as the scent of … blood?

“This is where we put special guests." Ross said from disturbingly close behind him. “You'll find that the door does not open from the inside. Washroom facilities are through there," he pointed to the passageway, “and food will be delivered twice a day. Clothing will be provided shortly, and if you need anything else you can ask the servant who brings them for it. If I think it appropriate, I will have it sent down."

“Like exercise equipment?"

“No. You have to make do with what is already in the room. Jogging in place is an excellent aerobic exercise, so I've heard."

“What's 'jogging'?"

“A form of torture on Earth that none-the-less is suffered willingly by millions."

Just then the air in the room shifted and Sevade's attention was drawn to the passage at the back. There in the opening was a small human female. He could tell her sex because she was as naked as he, except for her face, which was swathed in bandages.

He turned to Ross.

“What happened to her?"

“She made Mister Douglas mad. Quite by accident, but Mister Douglas tends to act impulsively when he's surprised. You should remember that for future reference."

“What is she doing here?"

“Normally one in her condition would be sent to the deepest reclamation pit to die if she can't find a pimp strong enough to protect her while selling her twat to the other vermin in the pit. But Mister Douglas has some peculiar sexual tastes that I think she can still fulfill."

Sevade glanced at the blood seeping through the bandages. “He consumes their flesh while ...?"

“No, no. Nothing so macabre. No, Mister Douglas prefers hairless flesh. I think that is why he hired me actually." Ross said as he smiled and ran a hand over his blade pate. “Not for the purpose of sex... unfortunately. Mister Douglas has had many human females, and relishes in the smoothness of their skin, but he does not care about their faces. I thought that if I could heal this one up, she could still serve Mister Douglas's desires and he would not have to hide the fact that he is a fox from her as she already knows."

“That's how she got hurt, because she saw that he was a fox?"

“Yes. A shame too; she was very pretty."

“She must hate him."

The way her eyes blazed was answer enough, and confirmation that she understood the language Humans called English.

“I'm sure she does, but women in her profession have learned to hide that in the performance of their duties."

“Why is she here ... with me?"

“I have heard that Assassins have special healing techniques, developed out of necessity since one can't stroll into the town healer's for treatment of one's wounds after having murdered he local mayor." Ross indicated the scar that ran down Sevade's face and continued on his chest. “Healing techniques that are effective if not very cosmetically pleasing. But as I said, what she ends up looking like does not matter. Tell the servant what ointments or ingredients you need and I'll have them sent down."

“I'm to heal her, that's all?"

“Oh you can do anything else you want with her, just make sure that you don't put as much as a scratch on her perfect skin or I'll fly your considerably hairier hide from the pole on the highest tower. Understand?"

“Perfectly."

“Good. Enjoy your stay."

The door clanged shut behind Ross. Sevade tried it out of habit. It would not budge, and there was no keyhole on this side to pick.

Resigned to his fate, he sat down on the nearest bunk and sighed. Looking up, he saw that the female had not moved.

“So, you hate Rory Douglas too, do you?"

The icy blue-grey eyes blazed again, and she nodded affirmation.

He studied her as she stood in the passageway. She was small but not skinny; lithe would be a better description. Many assassins were built like her. Assassination was more about finesse, in his mind, than brawn anyways, and being small served well for sneaking into secure places through small spaces. If he had formed the guild he had dreamed of it would never discriminate against anyone for their size or their sex.

Looking at her, the beginning of an idea was starting to form in his head. If Rory Douglas could bend the rules and keep him working as an assassin, then maybe he could bend them a bit himself. Maybe he could start a secret guild with a single apprentice, the woman without a face. She should have no restrictions against making Rory Douglas her graduation target.

He patted the mattress beside him.

“Come sit here child. I have a proposal for you."

* * * * * * * *

Jimmy went to see Paul Colliman for a training session after speaking with the captured assassin. Paul was cool and distant as he had been since the night of the attack but after an hour of sparing where neither could get inside the other's guard he seemed less closed off. Jimmy used the opportunity to bring up the subject of the assassin's Life Pledge.

Paul was neither surprised nor offended at the idea. He confirmed that it was the only honourable way for a failed assassin to go on living and that it was not unusual to see important people with a pledged assassin as their bodyguard.

“You'll be the first human to have one, and youngest of any species, I'm sure." Paul added.

“Will the villagers be willing to release him, after all the death and destruction?"

“To be frank, if it means you are leaving Dougs-ur-Mark too then yes, they would be happy to let you take him. After all, he didn't kill their friend Ruth." Paul's look made it perfectly clear who he thought was responsible for the butcher's death.

Jimmy's face burned and he was forced to drop his gaze to his lap under the collie's intense stare.

After a moment Paul's face softened a bit. “Don't worry, I'' make sure that he doesn't kill us in our sleep."

Jimmy's head jerked up. “Us? Are you going with me and Annie?"

“Yes. I have some business to settle with Rory Douglas."

Paul refused to be drawn out on the subject, so Jimmy left him. He headed to the pond to wash the sweat off before returning to Aurora's cottage for supper.

The sun was setting when he arrived, casting long shadows across the nearby fields. It was not until he had begun removing his clothing that he realized someone was sitting on the edge of the pond.

“Excuse me?" Jimmy called out. “If you aren't done yet I can come back later."

The dark form rose in front of him and he immediately recognized the silhouette of Junafir.

“You!" She cried as she leapt toward him. “My mother is dead because of you!"

The young tigress screamed at him as she pounded him on the chest with open hands, but did no damage as her claws stayed sheathed. Jimmy stood there stoically, letting her take her rage out on him, not daring to reach out for her.

After a minute, her arms slowed, and her screams turned to sobs. The energy and the anger seemed to drain from her as she collapsed against him. Jimmy had to embrace her to keep her from falling to the ground. His arms wrapped themselves around her naturally as she sobbed into his chest.

“I- … I'm a terrible, ungrateful daughter." She sobbed. “My mother used to say that when I gave her grief and she was right. I ran away with you and got in trouble and I would have done it all again without a thought for her feelings. And I didn't realize how much I was hurting her until she died, until it was too late to tell her how much I … I lo- … loved her."

“Shhh, Junafir, it's not your fault. It's mine."

She raised her head to look at him through teary eyes. “No, It's not. I think I knew that all along, but I felt so guilty that I had to blame someone other than myself, so I took it out on you. I was trying to please my dead mother by avoiding you and hating you, pretending that you were a bad person who had unleashed this storm of violence on us, but it isn't true."

“I know that feeling, I've felt the same way about myself until recently, but Rory Douglas is the one that is really to blame. After I get Annie back to Earth so she can take up her studies I think that I will have to find a way to avenge my father's death, either on Earth or back here."

“You're right about who is to blame, but that was not what I meant." She hugged him tighter. “I meant that it wasn't true that I hated you. I never hated you, and will never hate you, even if you decide to stay on Earth with Annie and forget all about me."

“With Annie? Junafir, it's not like that. Annie is a great gal but she's like my sister."

“Humans don't breed with their sisters?"

“Mostly not. And I don't want to stay on Earth, there's nothing for me there now. If I have to remain there for a time to destroy Rory Douglas I will, but afterwards … if I can come back … would you be willing to wait for me, maybe?"

Junafir answered him by sealing her lips on his passionately.

Their hands began wandering over each other immediately. Jimmy was already half undressed and Junafir had been naked when he found her. It took only a moment for him to doff his sweaty fighting clothes and join her in that state.

Their bodies melded together like they had never been apart, but a month of separation lent urgency to their actions. His hand went to her groin to find her vulva already wet and open in anticipation. Her hands found his growing erection and tugged on it anxiously, as if it would disappear should she let it go.

Her hot lips on his, her soft furry breasts with their diamond-hard nipples pressing up against this bare chest, it was all too much for him to bear. With muscles made hard and strong from a month of constant training he lifted her off the ground and held her high with one arm as he guided the head of his cock to her mound.

She wrapped her arms around his thick neck as he strained to hold her in place and put her feet where his ribbed abdomen narrowed to disappear between his hips. She balanced on him while he sought to penetrate her and held still until he had located his target. Then, with the bulbous knob on the end of his thick prick rubbing her clit as it sought entrance, she lowered herself onto his impaling pole.

She was as warm and as tight as he remembered. He stretched her exquisitely as she sank down on his cock. Natural lubricants flowed as he pulled her down onto his long shaft, and by the time he was balls deep he could move freely inside her.

His newly acquired strength and stamina allowed him to lift her up until just the tip remained inside her. Her arms were still wrapped tight around his shoulders, and her head was pressed against his, cheek to furry cheek. With each lift her ass came up and out and he had to bend backwards to keep from falling over. Her tail whipped around as he did, helping to keep them balanced on the edge of the pond while her ass rose and fell rapidly on his steely rod.

They were not bothering to count, but by the hundredth stroke he was ready to unleash a month of pent-up frustration. She was ready too, but recent reminisces of growing up without a father made her remember the danger involved, so when she felt him tense she skilfully hopped off, landing on her feet in a crouch right in front of his aching erection.

She grabbed it with one hand as she squatted on the sandy verge and rubbed her clit with the other. She stroked his cock with her hand while slavering saliva along its length, sucking and licking it with her rough tongue as she went.

He put his fists into the small of his back as his hips strained forward. She continued to stroke him even as she took the tip into her warm, moist mouth. She sealed her lips around the knob as he cried out and hot spooge shot forth.

She swallowed rapidly, but some leaked out. It only made his cock slicker as she spread it all over his shaft with her fist. Meanwhile her other hand had all but disappeared between her legs as she frantically rubbed herself to completion. She did not release his cock from her lips until she came with such force that it made her throw her head back and cry out.

Jimmy dropped to his knees and held her while she shook from a series of secondary orgasms. He put his hand on hers and rubbed around her mound as her fingers slowed inside her. He kissed her, tasted his own cum on her mouth and did not care.

It was getting late, and Junafir had to get back to the village where she was staying with a neighbour before they got worried about her. Jimmy was due at Aurora's cottage too so they quickly bathed together, but the feeling of her hands on his body brought his erection back again, and he could feel the heat coming from between her legs when he rubbed the water into her fur there to rinse it.

She pushed him away with a laugh, and it was good to hear it, even if it meant that they had to part again.

“You know," she said with a sly smile barely visible in the last light of day, “I come here to bathe every day before sunset."

“Really?" He grinned back. “I'm going to have to remember to come her more often."

She looked back over her shoulder as she walked to shore to dry off.

“You're going to have to remember to bring condoms."

Paul Collieman © Collifan

Gael Tholkes © MarcusXLight

Junafir Pawstone © Frostlupus

Ruth Pawstone © Bunners

Chris Cinereo © Kyroo Echos

Sevade © Frostlupus