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KattDclaw
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Maka
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On the other side of town, Elias van der Pohl was two hours and seven miles away from the gorgeous, determined armful of femininity destined to crash into his life like a cannonball. If he had known, perhaps he might have been able to prepare himself to some degree. Then again, very little could have prepared anyone for the experience that was Kris Cuthbert. The only real preparation that could perhaps have been made was physical, since aspects of his experiences with Kris Cuthbert would place imperative demands on Elias' athletic, tightly muscled body, not to mention her own.
Elias was, of course, in peak physical condition and kept himself that way through a Spartan regimen of exercise every day -balancing weight-lifting, running, swimming, martial arts practise and fencing. His body was a hard and finely balanced machine. There was not a spare ounce of fat anywhere on his six-foot frame, instead there was bronzed, uninterrupted skin rippling over lean, corded muscle and sinew. A smitten, impressionable girl at a party had once compared Elias to a panther in conversation with her friends, then given an almost frightened squeak as his brooding gaze suddenly met hers from across the room.
Indeed, Elias positively invited the comparison, by keeping his tangled dark hair like a mane around his chiselled, aristocratic face -deep dark blue eyes above fierce, high cheekbones. For formal occasions, he had an extensive collection of Saville Row tailored suits but otherwise, he preferred an all-black ensemble of trenchcoat, leather pants, knee-high ironshod boots, an antique silver watch on a chain, and a beautiful, ancient mirror-bright katana slung over his back.
"Must you, Elias?"
Inevitably, it was the sword that was causing difficulties. His aunt Lucretia was regarding him with a pained expression from across the van der Pohl entrance hall.
Elias had never been quite sure how to deal with Aunt Lucretia. He was used to women of all ages and degrees of sensibleness being rather charmed by his air of brooding hauteur, often despite themselves. Aunt Lucretia, on the other hand, had always seemed to regard him as a rather sulky teenager.
"It's a blade of honor," Elias explained. "A weapon worthy of a champion of humanity."
Aunt Lucretia sniffed. "It's a dangerous toy, as far as I'm concerned. You'll hardly need weapons anyway, not after tonight."
And that was enough to restore Elias' good mood. Tonight. The night he'd been waiting for as long as he could remember.
Family traditions. There were banking families and political dynasties. In the Old World, there were aristocrats and royalty. But Elias could trace his descent from a long line of alchemists and warriors, oracles and paladins. For shadowy centuries, his ancestors had feuded and inter-married and woven spells of protection across Europe. Some among them had joined John Dee in summoning up the storms that blew the great Armada away from England's shores. Others, one eventful night in Prague in 1456, had closed a gateway to Hell and saved the world entire.
They had accomplished so much because of their knowledge of the Demon Hunter ritual, an intricate and demanding spell for which one of Elias' distant shaman ancestors had paid a very steep price, more than twelve centuries ago. The ritual, which could only be performed under rare astrological conditions that appeared only once within a generation, was designed to draw down power from the heavens and infuse it into a mortal being, creating a warrior of supernatural skill, power and strength, a champion against the forces of darkness. All of his life, Elias had wanted to be that champion. He had spent his life preparing for it, training for it, longing for it. He'd be the best Demon Hunter of all time, better than the illustrious Sir Hugh Mandeville of revered memory, better than Abdr-Rahman of the Banner of Light, or Captain Lionel Greathed. He'd studied them all. He'd studied the history of his family's struggle, he'd learned the names and ranks of their enemies, the great houses of Hell. He'd trained and disciplined his body until it was under his absolute unquestioned control. Demons all over the world were not going to know what had hit them.
The family had gathered up in the observatory, where white dust-shrouds had been thrown over the astronomical equipment and arcane diagrams drawn in chalk on the floor. Everyone had taken their places. They came from all over the Colonies (as many of the more elderly family members still thought of the United States), but no time was spent on catching up or exchanging greetings. That came after this essential duty. Even Aunt Lucretia solemnly moved into her alloted place without a further word.
Elias took his own place, directly underneath the great dome, and winched the glass out of the way, exposing the room to the chilly night air. He shrugged off his coat, then the black T-shirt underneath, exposing an impressive set of abs and a flawless washboard stomach. Another shuffling uncle, a recluse who spent most of his time somewhere among California's redwoods, came up with a brush and jars of black and red body paint and hastily inscribed sigils of crackling occult significance across Elias' chest and shoulders.
A storm was brewing overhead. Elias nodded. A droning chant began, as alternately the men and women of the van der Pohl family began the great working.
It was the Bezuzu -horned, long-clawed loping demons. Their clan specialized in espionage, ambushes and fifth column activities. And they had obviously gotten word of the ritual being carried out, because one of them had attacked Cousin Berthold on his way to the mansion and was masquerading as him, wearing his skin. A dozen other Bezuzu were crouched in the gardens outside, waiting for the signal of 'Berthold'.
It waited for the ritual to reach its height. The lightning was crackling overhead, and Elias could almost taste the power on his tongue. It was then that the Bezuzu struck -tearing through the disguise of human skin and sinking its fangs into Uncle Matthias, while his fellows swarmed up the sides of the observatory and leaped through the open dome on to the assembled family.
None of the van der Pohls present had the powers of a Demon Hunter, but even so, they were not easy prey. Confusion gave way to ferocious, merciless struggle, family members parrying, dodging, weaving. But the chanting had come to a ragged end and now the lightning crackled across the sky, uncontained and uncontrolled.
Elias, duelling one of the Bezuzu, watched it anxiously. No longer drawn to the site of the ritual, to its rightful vessel, where would the power go? Would it dissipate? Would it return whence it came? Could it possibly...?
His eyes widened. A bright flash of blue fire amidst the lightning, the blue flame that would exalt the Demon Hunter. But it wasn't descending on the observatory. It was moving away at blinding speeds, moving away from the mansion into the skies across town.
The Bezuzu saw it too. They broke off the fight, and moved with their unnatural, loping speed across the floor, scuttling up the walls and diving into the gardens to pursue the blue lightning.
Elias took just a moment to look around. How many of the family had died in the attack? The observatory was stained red with blood everywhere across the floor. Aunt Lucretia caught his glance.
"I'll take care of things here. You need to follow the light! Go!"
She was right. Wherever the light was going, if the demons got there ahead of him, all was lost. Within moments, he had dashed out into the darkness and had leapt on to his Vincent Black Lightning motorbike. Revving up the engine and crashing on to the highway, he was soon not far behind his demonic foes and the enigmatic blue ball of lightning that was leading them both on.
Elias was, of course, in peak physical condition and kept himself that way through a Spartan regimen of exercise every day -balancing weight-lifting, running, swimming, martial arts practise and fencing. His body was a hard and finely balanced machine. There was not a spare ounce of fat anywhere on his six-foot frame, instead there was bronzed, uninterrupted skin rippling over lean, corded muscle and sinew. A smitten, impressionable girl at a party had once compared Elias to a panther in conversation with her friends, then given an almost frightened squeak as his brooding gaze suddenly met hers from across the room.
Indeed, Elias positively invited the comparison, by keeping his tangled dark hair like a mane around his chiselled, aristocratic face -deep dark blue eyes above fierce, high cheekbones. For formal occasions, he had an extensive collection of Saville Row tailored suits but otherwise, he preferred an all-black ensemble of trenchcoat, leather pants, knee-high ironshod boots, an antique silver watch on a chain, and a beautiful, ancient mirror-bright katana slung over his back.
"Must you, Elias?"
Inevitably, it was the sword that was causing difficulties. His aunt Lucretia was regarding him with a pained expression from across the van der Pohl entrance hall.
Elias had never been quite sure how to deal with Aunt Lucretia. He was used to women of all ages and degrees of sensibleness being rather charmed by his air of brooding hauteur, often despite themselves. Aunt Lucretia, on the other hand, had always seemed to regard him as a rather sulky teenager.
"It's a blade of honor," Elias explained. "A weapon worthy of a champion of humanity."
Aunt Lucretia sniffed. "It's a dangerous toy, as far as I'm concerned. You'll hardly need weapons anyway, not after tonight."
And that was enough to restore Elias' good mood. Tonight. The night he'd been waiting for as long as he could remember.
Family traditions. There were banking families and political dynasties. In the Old World, there were aristocrats and royalty. But Elias could trace his descent from a long line of alchemists and warriors, oracles and paladins. For shadowy centuries, his ancestors had feuded and inter-married and woven spells of protection across Europe. Some among them had joined John Dee in summoning up the storms that blew the great Armada away from England's shores. Others, one eventful night in Prague in 1456, had closed a gateway to Hell and saved the world entire.
They had accomplished so much because of their knowledge of the Demon Hunter ritual, an intricate and demanding spell for which one of Elias' distant shaman ancestors had paid a very steep price, more than twelve centuries ago. The ritual, which could only be performed under rare astrological conditions that appeared only once within a generation, was designed to draw down power from the heavens and infuse it into a mortal being, creating a warrior of supernatural skill, power and strength, a champion against the forces of darkness. All of his life, Elias had wanted to be that champion. He had spent his life preparing for it, training for it, longing for it. He'd be the best Demon Hunter of all time, better than the illustrious Sir Hugh Mandeville of revered memory, better than Abdr-Rahman of the Banner of Light, or Captain Lionel Greathed. He'd studied them all. He'd studied the history of his family's struggle, he'd learned the names and ranks of their enemies, the great houses of Hell. He'd trained and disciplined his body until it was under his absolute unquestioned control. Demons all over the world were not going to know what had hit them.
The family had gathered up in the observatory, where white dust-shrouds had been thrown over the astronomical equipment and arcane diagrams drawn in chalk on the floor. Everyone had taken their places. They came from all over the Colonies (as many of the more elderly family members still thought of the United States), but no time was spent on catching up or exchanging greetings. That came after this essential duty. Even Aunt Lucretia solemnly moved into her alloted place without a further word.
Elias took his own place, directly underneath the great dome, and winched the glass out of the way, exposing the room to the chilly night air. He shrugged off his coat, then the black T-shirt underneath, exposing an impressive set of abs and a flawless washboard stomach. Another shuffling uncle, a recluse who spent most of his time somewhere among California's redwoods, came up with a brush and jars of black and red body paint and hastily inscribed sigils of crackling occult significance across Elias' chest and shoulders.
A storm was brewing overhead. Elias nodded. A droning chant began, as alternately the men and women of the van der Pohl family began the great working.
It was the Bezuzu -horned, long-clawed loping demons. Their clan specialized in espionage, ambushes and fifth column activities. And they had obviously gotten word of the ritual being carried out, because one of them had attacked Cousin Berthold on his way to the mansion and was masquerading as him, wearing his skin. A dozen other Bezuzu were crouched in the gardens outside, waiting for the signal of 'Berthold'.
It waited for the ritual to reach its height. The lightning was crackling overhead, and Elias could almost taste the power on his tongue. It was then that the Bezuzu struck -tearing through the disguise of human skin and sinking its fangs into Uncle Matthias, while his fellows swarmed up the sides of the observatory and leaped through the open dome on to the assembled family.
None of the van der Pohls present had the powers of a Demon Hunter, but even so, they were not easy prey. Confusion gave way to ferocious, merciless struggle, family members parrying, dodging, weaving. But the chanting had come to a ragged end and now the lightning crackled across the sky, uncontained and uncontrolled.
Elias, duelling one of the Bezuzu, watched it anxiously. No longer drawn to the site of the ritual, to its rightful vessel, where would the power go? Would it dissipate? Would it return whence it came? Could it possibly...?
His eyes widened. A bright flash of blue fire amidst the lightning, the blue flame that would exalt the Demon Hunter. But it wasn't descending on the observatory. It was moving away at blinding speeds, moving away from the mansion into the skies across town.
The Bezuzu saw it too. They broke off the fight, and moved with their unnatural, loping speed across the floor, scuttling up the walls and diving into the gardens to pursue the blue lightning.
Elias took just a moment to look around. How many of the family had died in the attack? The observatory was stained red with blood everywhere across the floor. Aunt Lucretia caught his glance.
"I'll take care of things here. You need to follow the light! Go!"
She was right. Wherever the light was going, if the demons got there ahead of him, all was lost. Within moments, he had dashed out into the darkness and had leapt on to his Vincent Black Lightning motorbike. Revving up the engine and crashing on to the highway, he was soon not far behind his demonic foes and the enigmatic blue ball of lightning that was leading them both on.
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KattDclaw
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Maka
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The Bezuzu scattered as they hit a network of alleyways, with some climbing up the walls to leap from rooftop to rooftop while others loped down side-passages. Elias' motorbike crashed after them, black paintwork scraping off on the narrow walls. He winced, despite the circumstances. The bike was his pride and joy.
He had only had time to sweep his long black coat around him and it swirled and flapped like a cape around his hard, lithely muscled chest, still daubed with weird symbols that seemed to glow on the smooth skin, his finely chiselled aristocratic features lit up with intensity.
He realized the ambush a moment too late. With the cunning typical of its clan, one of the Bezuzu had doubled back to wait for him, perching on a gutter overhead like a gargoyle. Elias' deep blue eyes widened as the creature suddenly leapt down on him, talons extended. He skidded to the left, the front wheel of his bike ramping up on to the wall itself. The engine whined in protest but with one single sharp turn, Elias managed to dodge the Bezuzu's fall.
The blue flame seemed to have disappeared from the sky. Elias had no time to think about that or what that could mean (had it dissipated already? Would this be the first generation since the prehistoric era without a Demon Hunter?). The headlight of his bike illuminated a broad scaly back ahead of him -a stationary Bezuzu, intent on something in front of it.
A moment later, Elias saw what it was -and even in this pressing state of affairs, it was a sight well worth appreciating. A young woman was backed up against a closed iron door, illuminated by the street light overhead -a slender girl with vivid pixie-cut red hair in an scandalously revealing waitress' outfit. It was currently covered in stains and trash but the male eye hardly registered this, given the much more interesting way that the fabric clung to every inch of that taut, toned body, given the obscene scoop of firm cleavage offered by the low neckline, or the wispily inadequate shorts adorning her mouthwatering, peach-like derriere. Her breasts were creamily sculpted, feminine mountains -their size, roundness and perkiness all the more eye-popping on her slender frame.
But it was her heart-shaped face that really riveted the attention, and it might have done so even if its owner had been stark naked and revealing her luscious body for detailed inspection. It was a gorgeously expressive face; a beautiful face but the face of a sinfully feminine fire sprite rather than a serene angel. Those startling green eyes, at the moment filled with a mixture of fear, rage, indignation and a strange wonder, were a storm-warning all on their own. The tilt to the little chin suggested someone who liked to get her own way, and a revealing pout to the cupid's bow lips indicated a strong core of matching stubborness. It was hard to avoid imagining how she might perform in bed, what kind of storms of desire could ravish that perfect body.
Elias took all this in as his motorbike continued to speed down on the tableau, though if the sight of Kris had had the same effect on motorbikes that it had on men, it would have screeched to a halt. But bike and man continued on, bowling straight into the Bezuzu.
Nothing mortal could have survived a crash with a heavy motorbike travelling at that speed, but the Bezuzu were not mortal. Man, machine and demon were soon in a tangled heap. The Bezuzu was the first on its feet and, grinning at him, slashed downwards with its talons.
Elias had drawn his katana just in time to parry the blow, the strike landing with a shriek of horn on metal, but he could see it was hopeless. Two more Bezuzu were coming in from behind. For a mortal man to kill just one demon by himself was a feat rarely carried out in history -three on one was hopeless.
"Run!" he shouted to the girl. He had no chance, but perhaps he could buy her time to get to safety. Humanity had already lost the power of the Demon Hunter and a number of commited defenders tonight -it didn't need to lose a face and figure like that as well.
He had only had time to sweep his long black coat around him and it swirled and flapped like a cape around his hard, lithely muscled chest, still daubed with weird symbols that seemed to glow on the smooth skin, his finely chiselled aristocratic features lit up with intensity.
He realized the ambush a moment too late. With the cunning typical of its clan, one of the Bezuzu had doubled back to wait for him, perching on a gutter overhead like a gargoyle. Elias' deep blue eyes widened as the creature suddenly leapt down on him, talons extended. He skidded to the left, the front wheel of his bike ramping up on to the wall itself. The engine whined in protest but with one single sharp turn, Elias managed to dodge the Bezuzu's fall.
The blue flame seemed to have disappeared from the sky. Elias had no time to think about that or what that could mean (had it dissipated already? Would this be the first generation since the prehistoric era without a Demon Hunter?). The headlight of his bike illuminated a broad scaly back ahead of him -a stationary Bezuzu, intent on something in front of it.
A moment later, Elias saw what it was -and even in this pressing state of affairs, it was a sight well worth appreciating. A young woman was backed up against a closed iron door, illuminated by the street light overhead -a slender girl with vivid pixie-cut red hair in an scandalously revealing waitress' outfit. It was currently covered in stains and trash but the male eye hardly registered this, given the much more interesting way that the fabric clung to every inch of that taut, toned body, given the obscene scoop of firm cleavage offered by the low neckline, or the wispily inadequate shorts adorning her mouthwatering, peach-like derriere. Her breasts were creamily sculpted, feminine mountains -their size, roundness and perkiness all the more eye-popping on her slender frame.
But it was her heart-shaped face that really riveted the attention, and it might have done so even if its owner had been stark naked and revealing her luscious body for detailed inspection. It was a gorgeously expressive face; a beautiful face but the face of a sinfully feminine fire sprite rather than a serene angel. Those startling green eyes, at the moment filled with a mixture of fear, rage, indignation and a strange wonder, were a storm-warning all on their own. The tilt to the little chin suggested someone who liked to get her own way, and a revealing pout to the cupid's bow lips indicated a strong core of matching stubborness. It was hard to avoid imagining how she might perform in bed, what kind of storms of desire could ravish that perfect body.
Elias took all this in as his motorbike continued to speed down on the tableau, though if the sight of Kris had had the same effect on motorbikes that it had on men, it would have screeched to a halt. But bike and man continued on, bowling straight into the Bezuzu.
Nothing mortal could have survived a crash with a heavy motorbike travelling at that speed, but the Bezuzu were not mortal. Man, machine and demon were soon in a tangled heap. The Bezuzu was the first on its feet and, grinning at him, slashed downwards with its talons.
Elias had drawn his katana just in time to parry the blow, the strike landing with a shriek of horn on metal, but he could see it was hopeless. Two more Bezuzu were coming in from behind. For a mortal man to kill just one demon by himself was a feat rarely carried out in history -three on one was hopeless.
"Run!" he shouted to the girl. He had no chance, but perhaps he could buy her time to get to safety. Humanity had already lost the power of the Demon Hunter and a number of commited defenders tonight -it didn't need to lose a face and figure like that as well.
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KattDclaw
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Maka
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“What the actual fuck?!”
Elias put his hands behind him and sprang lithely to his feet. The beautiful redhead was staring at her bloodsoaked hands in confusion, her baffled expression a match for Elias' own. She'd screamed something about knowing Tae Kwan Do, but not even the top martial artists in the world could have pulled off the effortless, graceful moves she'd just made.
"You... how did you...?"
Since it was clear that she didn't know either, Elias didn't bother finishing the question. He cocked his head to one side. An awful idea had just occured to him. No. Oh no.
"Are you the Demon Hunter?"
No. That's... unfair. She's just some girl, who doesn't seem to have a clue about demon or the Long War. I waited my whole life...
Well, on looks alone she was considerably more than just some girl, as part of Elias' brain had the grace to concede.
The fear and confusion was not lifting from the girl's gorgeous features, but shrieks from both ends of the alley indicated that the Bezuzu had them penned in, and they were coming in numbers that even the true Demon Hunter would find overwhelming. They needed a way out. And if she was the Demon Hunter... well, there was a way to test it.
"Kick open that door," he snapped peremptorily, indicating the steelbound back door of the restaurant. It was heavy and steelbound. He was tightly muscled and in the peak of physical condition, and he couldn't have shifted it. But if this infuriating girl had somehow been empowered, a single snap-kick would suffice. He stepped back, covering her rear against more Bezuzu's approach.
Of course it was good that the Demon Hunter essence might have been saved and not lost to the world. Of course it was good that humanity might have its protector after all. But as he waited for her to act, for the sight of that phenomenal ass to tense as its owner lunged, part of him could not help hoping that the only result would be stubbed toes and a shrill cry of pain.
Then they'd more than likely be slaughtered by the Bezuzu, and demonic forces would have free reign over the world.
But goddamnit, at least an ancient and mystical birthright wouldn't have been given over to a waitress wearing a tight, skimpy T-shirt with a goose on it.
Elias put his hands behind him and sprang lithely to his feet. The beautiful redhead was staring at her bloodsoaked hands in confusion, her baffled expression a match for Elias' own. She'd screamed something about knowing Tae Kwan Do, but not even the top martial artists in the world could have pulled off the effortless, graceful moves she'd just made.
"You... how did you...?"
Since it was clear that she didn't know either, Elias didn't bother finishing the question. He cocked his head to one side. An awful idea had just occured to him. No. Oh no.
"Are you the Demon Hunter?"
No. That's... unfair. She's just some girl, who doesn't seem to have a clue about demon or the Long War. I waited my whole life...
Well, on looks alone she was considerably more than just some girl, as part of Elias' brain had the grace to concede.
The fear and confusion was not lifting from the girl's gorgeous features, but shrieks from both ends of the alley indicated that the Bezuzu had them penned in, and they were coming in numbers that even the true Demon Hunter would find overwhelming. They needed a way out. And if she was the Demon Hunter... well, there was a way to test it.
"Kick open that door," he snapped peremptorily, indicating the steelbound back door of the restaurant. It was heavy and steelbound. He was tightly muscled and in the peak of physical condition, and he couldn't have shifted it. But if this infuriating girl had somehow been empowered, a single snap-kick would suffice. He stepped back, covering her rear against more Bezuzu's approach.
Of course it was good that the Demon Hunter essence might have been saved and not lost to the world. Of course it was good that humanity might have its protector after all. But as he waited for her to act, for the sight of that phenomenal ass to tense as its owner lunged, part of him could not help hoping that the only result would be stubbed toes and a shrill cry of pain.
Then they'd more than likely be slaughtered by the Bezuzu, and demonic forces would have free reign over the world.
But goddamnit, at least an ancient and mystical birthright wouldn't have been given over to a waitress wearing a tight, skimpy T-shirt with a goose on it.
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Maka
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“You kick the door open! I’m wearing fuckin’ sneakers!” screamed the infuriating girl.
Elias closed his eyes. If pure frustration had translated into strength, he would have been able to batter the door open himself by bashing his head against it. He was going to die here, in this dark and filthy alley, because the girl who'd stolen his birthright was wearing sneakers.
"Just. Try it," he said, in what he thought was a tone of level reason.
Even he still wasn't sure, at the critical moment. Perhaps fortunately, he had the distraction of the sight of Kris' stunning, delectable backside, so tightly swaddled by those obscenely brief and closely-fitting shorts. If he had to die, those perfectly toned and shapely buttocks were an image he didn't mind going out on.
But as it turned out, he wouldn't have to. Because the heavy steel door cracked and split like matchwood under the young beauty's foot. She turned to him, an incredulous look of awe and pleasure covering her face. She was practically hopping from one foot to the other in glee at what she had just done.
Elias was aware of three different emotions. The first was a pulse of raw, unadulterated envy and resentment. He'd never experience that high. He'd never feel that strength and power coursing through him, for all the ferocious discipline he put into shaping, honing and hardening the lean muscles and sinews of his body.
The second was an equally raw burst of lust. That triumph, pleasure and satisfaction shining from brilliant emerald eyes, the way she grinned and tossed her pixie-cut red head back in immoderate glee -was that anything like how she might look in bed, mounting on the high of a blazing orgasm? He couldn't imagine sex with this girl as anything but a wild, epic and uncontrollable ride -going toe to toe with the horniest, most insatiable and most energetic young fire sprite there could ever be, every quivering inch exquisitely well-formed for love.
And the third was a completely inexplicable surge of affection. In the five minutes he'd been acquainted with this girl, he'd seen that beautiful, expressive face register fear, confusion, frustration and what seemed to be its normal state of sullen indifference. But he didn't think she often looked quite so radiantly, lumininously pleased with herself as she did just now. There was something infectious about her grin. Somehow, Elias was willing to bet she didn't smile much, not sincerely, and it did something new to her face. She looked like a girl who'd found her calling in life (that thought brought back the resentment).
Elias' education had been heavy on the histories, lineages and dark hierarchies of the demonic hordes, but light on the art of healthily processing emotions. He stuffed envy, resentment, lust and affection back down inside himself.
"Go on then," he hissed, following the undisputed new Demon Hunter into the building.
"You... you better be going to pay for that door, Kris."
Elias wasn't quite sure he believed his ears. The ugly little man in front of them (name-tag said "Charlie", although it also said that they should have a Honkeriffic day, which Elias assumed was meant to be a good thing) had seen horrific creatures from nightmare. He had seen one of his waitresses break a solid steel door in half with a kick. Even now the Bezuzu's hunting calls were sounding outside, echoing through the kitchen they stood in. But he was mostly concerned with the damage done to his property. The kind thing to assume was that he was still just processing it all, although it was possible he was also just incredibly stupid. Elias wasn't inclined to be kind, particularly when he realized that Charlie had been intending to leave Kris to her death outside.
Striding forward, he reached out and grabbed Charlie by his apron, effortlessly lifting him up so they were nose to nose and Charlie was staring straight into his furious, unyielding blue eyes.
"Listen. You deserve to be left for the Bezuzu for what you just did. They're coming here right now and we're all that stands between you and them. So show some goddamn respect and apologise, right fucking now."
He untensed his arm and let Charlie drop. One of the waitresses, a tall, immaculately spraytanned blonde with large but unconvincing breasts, came out of the terrified group of staff huddled in a corner.
"So you're gonna save us all?" she asked hopefully. She reached out, running finger down the muscles of Elias' chest. He stopped that with a look of disgust.
"No," he said. He indicated Kris. "She is. Now get out of here. All of you. Go on. Shoo. Grown-ups need to talk."
The blonde drew herself back with tremendous hauteur, all wounded pride. Elias looked at Kris. If a Honkers waitress had to become the new Demon Hunter, he supposed it could just possibly have been worse.
"I think I've got a way we could take out all of the Bezuzu," he told Kris, who was starting to seem almost sensible by sheer force of comparison. "It's gonna involve burning this place to the ground."
Elias closed his eyes. If pure frustration had translated into strength, he would have been able to batter the door open himself by bashing his head against it. He was going to die here, in this dark and filthy alley, because the girl who'd stolen his birthright was wearing sneakers.
"Just. Try it," he said, in what he thought was a tone of level reason.
Even he still wasn't sure, at the critical moment. Perhaps fortunately, he had the distraction of the sight of Kris' stunning, delectable backside, so tightly swaddled by those obscenely brief and closely-fitting shorts. If he had to die, those perfectly toned and shapely buttocks were an image he didn't mind going out on.
But as it turned out, he wouldn't have to. Because the heavy steel door cracked and split like matchwood under the young beauty's foot. She turned to him, an incredulous look of awe and pleasure covering her face. She was practically hopping from one foot to the other in glee at what she had just done.
Elias was aware of three different emotions. The first was a pulse of raw, unadulterated envy and resentment. He'd never experience that high. He'd never feel that strength and power coursing through him, for all the ferocious discipline he put into shaping, honing and hardening the lean muscles and sinews of his body.
The second was an equally raw burst of lust. That triumph, pleasure and satisfaction shining from brilliant emerald eyes, the way she grinned and tossed her pixie-cut red head back in immoderate glee -was that anything like how she might look in bed, mounting on the high of a blazing orgasm? He couldn't imagine sex with this girl as anything but a wild, epic and uncontrollable ride -going toe to toe with the horniest, most insatiable and most energetic young fire sprite there could ever be, every quivering inch exquisitely well-formed for love.
And the third was a completely inexplicable surge of affection. In the five minutes he'd been acquainted with this girl, he'd seen that beautiful, expressive face register fear, confusion, frustration and what seemed to be its normal state of sullen indifference. But he didn't think she often looked quite so radiantly, lumininously pleased with herself as she did just now. There was something infectious about her grin. Somehow, Elias was willing to bet she didn't smile much, not sincerely, and it did something new to her face. She looked like a girl who'd found her calling in life (that thought brought back the resentment).
Elias' education had been heavy on the histories, lineages and dark hierarchies of the demonic hordes, but light on the art of healthily processing emotions. He stuffed envy, resentment, lust and affection back down inside himself.
"Go on then," he hissed, following the undisputed new Demon Hunter into the building.
"You... you better be going to pay for that door, Kris."
Elias wasn't quite sure he believed his ears. The ugly little man in front of them (name-tag said "Charlie", although it also said that they should have a Honkeriffic day, which Elias assumed was meant to be a good thing) had seen horrific creatures from nightmare. He had seen one of his waitresses break a solid steel door in half with a kick. Even now the Bezuzu's hunting calls were sounding outside, echoing through the kitchen they stood in. But he was mostly concerned with the damage done to his property. The kind thing to assume was that he was still just processing it all, although it was possible he was also just incredibly stupid. Elias wasn't inclined to be kind, particularly when he realized that Charlie had been intending to leave Kris to her death outside.
Striding forward, he reached out and grabbed Charlie by his apron, effortlessly lifting him up so they were nose to nose and Charlie was staring straight into his furious, unyielding blue eyes.
"Listen. You deserve to be left for the Bezuzu for what you just did. They're coming here right now and we're all that stands between you and them. So show some goddamn respect and apologise, right fucking now."
He untensed his arm and let Charlie drop. One of the waitresses, a tall, immaculately spraytanned blonde with large but unconvincing breasts, came out of the terrified group of staff huddled in a corner.
"So you're gonna save us all?" she asked hopefully. She reached out, running finger down the muscles of Elias' chest. He stopped that with a look of disgust.
"No," he said. He indicated Kris. "She is. Now get out of here. All of you. Go on. Shoo. Grown-ups need to talk."
The blonde drew herself back with tremendous hauteur, all wounded pride. Elias looked at Kris. If a Honkers waitress had to become the new Demon Hunter, he supposed it could just possibly have been worse.
"I think I've got a way we could take out all of the Bezuzu," he told Kris, who was starting to seem almost sensible by sheer force of comparison. "It's gonna involve burning this place to the ground."
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It was hard to concentrate with the petite, beautiful redhead standing there, feet planted firmly apart, looking so goddamned delicious. It wasn't just the soft, thoughtful and dreamy look in those brilliant green eyes. Only a certain and very special kind of girl had those sensuous bedroom eyes -in Elias' past experience of glances like that, they had preceded epic, marathon sessions of sex. It wasn't just the way she delicately nibbled her lower lip -those ripe, soft full lips that seemed to be made for kisses. It wasn't even just the way she stood, defiantly squaring her shoulders so that her huge breasts stuck out even more. It was everything. Stalked by nightmarish demons, dealing with the loss of his birthright, all Elias could think about right now was how extraordinarily, mouthwateringly fuckable the new Demon Hunter was.
"So it has a name? What the fuck is a Bezuzu? Sounds like some kind of stupid Pokemon…" she said, rapping her sneakers on the floor.
"A what... ?" asked Elias, as he dismissed the blond waitress. Tremendously piqued, she pursed her lips and left with a decided snap to the sway of her derriere, although Elias was far from in the frame of mind to appreciate it.
Kris' tone was scraping at Elias' nerves but somehow that wasn't helping with the parade of erotic fantasies racing through his mind. If anything, it just intensified them -now he was fantasing about grabbing her and kissing her until nothing came out of that lovely mouth but muffled moans, of pressing her against the wall and ravishing her until her only coherent words were obscene, ecstatic cries to God, not inane remarks about Pokemon. Whatever they were.
"Never mind. Bezuzu are a kind of demon. You...", he'd have to say it out loud. "You hunt demons now. I'm... ", he sighed. "I guess I'm here to help you do that. My name is Elias."
She had looked delighted by his treatment of the blonde waitress, but her eyes lit up like twin emerald stars at the prospect of burning the restaurant to the ground (again, he found himself wondering what her face looked like on the height of a mighty orgasm).
"You said the magic word," Kris said, her voice a sensual, husky purr. She rather ruined the effect by adding a nervous chuckle and a rambling, pedantic non sequitur about her use of the phrase. Elias felt, for the first time, a compound of emotions that he was to feel many times in the days and nights to come -puzzlement, confusion, intense irritation blended with huge lust, and a reluctant yet insistent affection underneath it.
"Um. Okay," he said. "Here's my plan..."
It necessitated a trip to the restaurant parking lot. Caught up in the general panic, customers and staff were running for their cars. Elias quickly scanned the lot, and lighted on a towering SUV. Two grease-covered mechanics were making for it. Elias stood between them.
"Nope."
They stared at him.
"Mister, that's our ride and we ain't staying here, no way, no how. There's things out there tonight!"
"No," Elias said. "Sorry. Get a lift from someone else. I need your gas."
He was praying they'd make something of it. He needed to hit something, to get that confusing mash of emotions out of his head via his fists. But the pair looked at him. Elias smiled at them hopefully.
There was a sense of brooding menace and danger that clung to Elias van der Pohl, a feeling that here was decidedly not someone to fuck with. The mechanics decided not to make something of it.
Thrusting down disappointment, Elias set to work siphoning off the SUV's gas into a bucket he'd carried out of the building for the purpose. He moved as quickly as he could, achingly aware that the inexperienced new Demon Hunter was fighting for her life right at that moment.
The plan was simple, but that was the best kind of strategy to use on the Bezuzu. Creatures of twisted cunning themselves, they could sniff out subtle ploys but were vulnerable to the older and more basic tricks.
Kris would lure the Bezuzu into the restaurant, trying to stay out of their reach, fighting them one on one as she could, and leading them through the back area and bar until she stood at the back door again. Meanwhile, Elias would lay gasoline down inside, avoiding the running battle as best he could. Once he was done, he'd make his own way to the front, set it on fire, then take out any Bezuzu who tried to escape that way. With Kris securing the back, the Bezuzu would die en masse at their hands or in the fire.
He could only hope that gorgeous, infuriating, irresistible Kris was able to carry out her part of the plan.
"So it has a name? What the fuck is a Bezuzu? Sounds like some kind of stupid Pokemon…" she said, rapping her sneakers on the floor.
"A what... ?" asked Elias, as he dismissed the blond waitress. Tremendously piqued, she pursed her lips and left with a decided snap to the sway of her derriere, although Elias was far from in the frame of mind to appreciate it.
Kris' tone was scraping at Elias' nerves but somehow that wasn't helping with the parade of erotic fantasies racing through his mind. If anything, it just intensified them -now he was fantasing about grabbing her and kissing her until nothing came out of that lovely mouth but muffled moans, of pressing her against the wall and ravishing her until her only coherent words were obscene, ecstatic cries to God, not inane remarks about Pokemon. Whatever they were.
"Never mind. Bezuzu are a kind of demon. You...", he'd have to say it out loud. "You hunt demons now. I'm... ", he sighed. "I guess I'm here to help you do that. My name is Elias."
She had looked delighted by his treatment of the blonde waitress, but her eyes lit up like twin emerald stars at the prospect of burning the restaurant to the ground (again, he found himself wondering what her face looked like on the height of a mighty orgasm).
"You said the magic word," Kris said, her voice a sensual, husky purr. She rather ruined the effect by adding a nervous chuckle and a rambling, pedantic non sequitur about her use of the phrase. Elias felt, for the first time, a compound of emotions that he was to feel many times in the days and nights to come -puzzlement, confusion, intense irritation blended with huge lust, and a reluctant yet insistent affection underneath it.
"Um. Okay," he said. "Here's my plan..."
It necessitated a trip to the restaurant parking lot. Caught up in the general panic, customers and staff were running for their cars. Elias quickly scanned the lot, and lighted on a towering SUV. Two grease-covered mechanics were making for it. Elias stood between them.
"Nope."
They stared at him.
"Mister, that's our ride and we ain't staying here, no way, no how. There's things out there tonight!"
"No," Elias said. "Sorry. Get a lift from someone else. I need your gas."
He was praying they'd make something of it. He needed to hit something, to get that confusing mash of emotions out of his head via his fists. But the pair looked at him. Elias smiled at them hopefully.
There was a sense of brooding menace and danger that clung to Elias van der Pohl, a feeling that here was decidedly not someone to fuck with. The mechanics decided not to make something of it.
Thrusting down disappointment, Elias set to work siphoning off the SUV's gas into a bucket he'd carried out of the building for the purpose. He moved as quickly as he could, achingly aware that the inexperienced new Demon Hunter was fighting for her life right at that moment.
The plan was simple, but that was the best kind of strategy to use on the Bezuzu. Creatures of twisted cunning themselves, they could sniff out subtle ploys but were vulnerable to the older and more basic tricks.
Kris would lure the Bezuzu into the restaurant, trying to stay out of their reach, fighting them one on one as she could, and leading them through the back area and bar until she stood at the back door again. Meanwhile, Elias would lay gasoline down inside, avoiding the running battle as best he could. Once he was done, he'd make his own way to the front, set it on fire, then take out any Bezuzu who tried to escape that way. With Kris securing the back, the Bezuzu would die en masse at their hands or in the fire.
He could only hope that gorgeous, infuriating, irresistible Kris was able to carry out her part of the plan.
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Things were not going according to plan.
It was a good plan. Elias had studied strategy with some of the best leaders there were, taken a warped pilgrimage around the very worst of the world's warzones and studied the trade of battlewith warlords and mercenary captains. So obviously there was nothing wrong with the plan.
Kris must have screwed up somehow, was clearly what the problem was.
Elias would have continued considering the many and multiple ways that the new Demon Hunter was creating headaches and confusion and all kinds of intense, distracting, unwanted erotic thoughts, but at that time, a Bezuzu bowled him over, diving claws extended.
The first part had gone like clockwork. Laying a trail of gasoline around the restaurant, staying well out of the way of the catastrophic brawl around the bar area (bar one brief stolen glimpse of Kris bending over to pick up a knife, delectable ass temptingly thrust up into the air).
And emptying the gasoline by the tables on the far side, he'd become aware of five Bezuzu slowly moving in on him. One of them showed him a mouthful of sharp teeth. The creature looked almost amused. They'd been playing with him -monitoring his movements and activities even as their clanmates battled Kris. And he could never hope to take all five of them.
It was while he was deciding that the blame probably lay with Kris and her infuriatingly perfectly formed little ass that the Bezuzu leapt, pinning him down to the gasoline-soaked carpet.
The demon's scaly bulk was crushing the life out of him. Elias wriggled underneath it, finally freeing his arms enough to push the demon up and away from him in one epic shove. He reached for his lighter and flicked its flame into being.
He took just one moment to enjoy the looks of dawning realization and fear on the flat yellow eyes of the demons surrounding him before tossing the lighter on to the carpet. It went up with a roar.
The Bezuzu scattered, looking to save themselves, but Elias knew there was no chance for any of them. The building would collapse before they could reach the door. Instead, he composed himself for death, staring into the bright wall of flames all around. It hadn't been such a bad life, if a bit on the short side. And at least in whatever warrior Valhalla he was headed for he wouldn't have to deal with a certain short, infuriating redhead and her ideas about Pokemon and her theft of his birthright and sweet Jesus that mouthwatering ass...
It was a good plan. Elias had studied strategy with some of the best leaders there were, taken a warped pilgrimage around the very worst of the world's warzones and studied the trade of battlewith warlords and mercenary captains. So obviously there was nothing wrong with the plan.
Kris must have screwed up somehow, was clearly what the problem was.
Elias would have continued considering the many and multiple ways that the new Demon Hunter was creating headaches and confusion and all kinds of intense, distracting, unwanted erotic thoughts, but at that time, a Bezuzu bowled him over, diving claws extended.
The first part had gone like clockwork. Laying a trail of gasoline around the restaurant, staying well out of the way of the catastrophic brawl around the bar area (bar one brief stolen glimpse of Kris bending over to pick up a knife, delectable ass temptingly thrust up into the air).
And emptying the gasoline by the tables on the far side, he'd become aware of five Bezuzu slowly moving in on him. One of them showed him a mouthful of sharp teeth. The creature looked almost amused. They'd been playing with him -monitoring his movements and activities even as their clanmates battled Kris. And he could never hope to take all five of them.
It was while he was deciding that the blame probably lay with Kris and her infuriatingly perfectly formed little ass that the Bezuzu leapt, pinning him down to the gasoline-soaked carpet.
The demon's scaly bulk was crushing the life out of him. Elias wriggled underneath it, finally freeing his arms enough to push the demon up and away from him in one epic shove. He reached for his lighter and flicked its flame into being.
He took just one moment to enjoy the looks of dawning realization and fear on the flat yellow eyes of the demons surrounding him before tossing the lighter on to the carpet. It went up with a roar.
The Bezuzu scattered, looking to save themselves, but Elias knew there was no chance for any of them. The building would collapse before they could reach the door. Instead, he composed himself for death, staring into the bright wall of flames all around. It hadn't been such a bad life, if a bit on the short side. And at least in whatever warrior Valhalla he was headed for he wouldn't have to deal with a certain short, infuriating redhead and her ideas about Pokemon and her theft of his birthright and sweet Jesus that mouthwatering ass...
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Standing before him in the light of the flames, Kris might have been the vision of a lonely, frustratedly celibate monk's vision of a beautiful warrior angel of the Last Judgement, although he probably wouldn't have included the low-cut Honkers T-shirt, now ripped in several different places and showing tantalising glimpses of the tanned, firm flesh underneath.
"Giving up so easily?" she demanded, hauling him to his feet, with one small hand around his wrist. He spluttered, unable to even find words for how much her insolence and ignorance and... she'd saved him. Why would she do that? He'd been at peace, he'd gone out doing something heroic and having made sure the new Demon Hunter was alive and understood her role. It was the kind of thing future generations of van der Pohls would have been told about in awed whispers.
They wouldn't be told about the time a small but determined redhead dragged him through a roaring fire and then straight through a solid brick wall, at least not if Elias had anything to do with it. The impact her fiery head made with the wall seemed to leave even Kris mildly stunned, as they emerged into the blessedly cool night air.
Elias grabbed her by slender shoulders and spun her around to face him.
"What were you thinking? You're the Demon Hunter! You could have died! Then the world is fucked!"
Those brilliant emerald eyes, those smoothly defined muscles tensing under his grasp, that stunning face.
"You steal my birthright, you've got no clue about anything, you risk your life on stupid stunts... "
All of the Bezuzu seemed to have perished in their impromptu trap. The night was still and quiet now, although no doubt sirens would soon replace the demons' hunting cries in the air. Elias felt the familiar ebbing of adrenaline, felt the familiar rush of energy and lust coursing through his body, the way he always felt after going into battle.
"Trouble! You're nothing but trouble!"
And he breathed in Kris' scent -the tang of blood and sweat and grime, and underneath a subtle, musky thread of something -perhaps battle-lust, perhaps arousal. And he opened his mouth, drew breath for more ranting, but instead found himself kissing the petite redhead, hard and passionate and open-mouthed, pressing that glorious body against the wall.
"Giving up so easily?" she demanded, hauling him to his feet, with one small hand around his wrist. He spluttered, unable to even find words for how much her insolence and ignorance and... she'd saved him. Why would she do that? He'd been at peace, he'd gone out doing something heroic and having made sure the new Demon Hunter was alive and understood her role. It was the kind of thing future generations of van der Pohls would have been told about in awed whispers.
They wouldn't be told about the time a small but determined redhead dragged him through a roaring fire and then straight through a solid brick wall, at least not if Elias had anything to do with it. The impact her fiery head made with the wall seemed to leave even Kris mildly stunned, as they emerged into the blessedly cool night air.
Elias grabbed her by slender shoulders and spun her around to face him.
"What were you thinking? You're the Demon Hunter! You could have died! Then the world is fucked!"
Those brilliant emerald eyes, those smoothly defined muscles tensing under his grasp, that stunning face.
"You steal my birthright, you've got no clue about anything, you risk your life on stupid stunts... "
All of the Bezuzu seemed to have perished in their impromptu trap. The night was still and quiet now, although no doubt sirens would soon replace the demons' hunting cries in the air. Elias felt the familiar ebbing of adrenaline, felt the familiar rush of energy and lust coursing through his body, the way he always felt after going into battle.
"Trouble! You're nothing but trouble!"
And he breathed in Kris' scent -the tang of blood and sweat and grime, and underneath a subtle, musky thread of something -perhaps battle-lust, perhaps arousal. And he opened his mouth, drew breath for more ranting, but instead found himself kissing the petite redhead, hard and passionate and open-mouthed, pressing that glorious body against the wall.
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Kris Cuthbert was every bit as good to kiss as she was to look at.
At first, her lips had been still and locked tight against Elias' mouth, her body stiff and unreceptive, a little moan that might have been the beginning of a protest forming in her throat. Her hands shot out, palms first on to his musclebound chest, to shove him off her.
But then something happened, as though a switch had been flicked. Instead of pushing him away, Kris' small hands were exploring the contours of his stomach and pecs, appreciatively caressing them and feeling out their hardness, until she suddenly grasped his shirt and pulled him down while rising up on her tiptoes herself, responding to his kiss with every ounce of the same fire and passion and greedy hunger that he'd shown her. A deep, husky purr, a sound of lust and need and satisfaction, seemed to come unbidden from somewhere deep in her throat.
All Elias could think was to keep that sound going. Kris' pose was pressing her gigantic, firm but supple breasts against his unyielding chest, supporting herself by hanging on to his shirt. He felt an exquisite awareness of every inch of her nubile, eye-poppingly perfect body. His mighty, heavy erection strained against his pants as he thought about the way those large breasts would feel under his hands, about the way Kris' purr might turn into a scream of ecstasy in the heights of pleasure. Kris wasn't the kind of girl to hold back -Elias could only imagine the kind of screamed obscenities, foul-mouthed cries to God, mewls and moans and panted exhortations with which she'd turn the air blue mid-orgasm during the kind of truly epic fuck he dearly wished to give her. If she brought even half the energy and passion to sex that she did to brawling and kissing, such a night might not end until she was unable to stand, he was unable to walk, the bed had collapsed, the neighbours had called the police and the police had called a SWAT team.
Then something in the burning building against which Elias had Kris pressed gave way and collapsed in on itself and the erotic spell was broken. Kris broke the kiss, her cheeks crimson. Heaving for breath, her impressive breasts rose and fell hypnotically. Elias didn't see the full-armed slap coming.
Delivered by a Demon Hunter, it was enough to knock even him sideways. His right cheek and jaw had gone numb. Being slapped by Kris Cuthbert had something of the same stunning effect as laying eyes on her or being kissed by her, but it was much less pleasant. Elias held a hand to his face, letting it cool the burning handmark on his cheek. Had he deserved that? He probably had.
Kris was stalking off towards her car, which had a giant robot sticker in the back window because of course it did. Even despite the circumstances, the way her ass moved in those clinging, brief shorts was something to behold. But Elias didn't have time to enjoy it. Gratefully feeling sensation return to his cheek, he strode after her.
"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I kissed you."
He wasn't.
"It was dumb, it was an adrenaline thing. But we're not done."
Poor choice of words, given the blazing arousal coursing through his body.
"I mean... about what you are now. You think it's over because we fried a couple of dozen Bezuzu? There are legions upon legions of demons in Hell, more than you could imagine, and some of them make the Bezuzu look like rambunctious puppies. And there are worse things than demons. And every single one of them will be looking for you day and night from now on. I've spent my whole life studying the enemy. If you don't let me help, you're dead."
Kris was staring at the driver-side door. Elias felt a certain irritation, or rather an intensification of the irritation he already.
"Are you going to get in or ... ?"
At first, her lips had been still and locked tight against Elias' mouth, her body stiff and unreceptive, a little moan that might have been the beginning of a protest forming in her throat. Her hands shot out, palms first on to his musclebound chest, to shove him off her.
But then something happened, as though a switch had been flicked. Instead of pushing him away, Kris' small hands were exploring the contours of his stomach and pecs, appreciatively caressing them and feeling out their hardness, until she suddenly grasped his shirt and pulled him down while rising up on her tiptoes herself, responding to his kiss with every ounce of the same fire and passion and greedy hunger that he'd shown her. A deep, husky purr, a sound of lust and need and satisfaction, seemed to come unbidden from somewhere deep in her throat.
All Elias could think was to keep that sound going. Kris' pose was pressing her gigantic, firm but supple breasts against his unyielding chest, supporting herself by hanging on to his shirt. He felt an exquisite awareness of every inch of her nubile, eye-poppingly perfect body. His mighty, heavy erection strained against his pants as he thought about the way those large breasts would feel under his hands, about the way Kris' purr might turn into a scream of ecstasy in the heights of pleasure. Kris wasn't the kind of girl to hold back -Elias could only imagine the kind of screamed obscenities, foul-mouthed cries to God, mewls and moans and panted exhortations with which she'd turn the air blue mid-orgasm during the kind of truly epic fuck he dearly wished to give her. If she brought even half the energy and passion to sex that she did to brawling and kissing, such a night might not end until she was unable to stand, he was unable to walk, the bed had collapsed, the neighbours had called the police and the police had called a SWAT team.
Then something in the burning building against which Elias had Kris pressed gave way and collapsed in on itself and the erotic spell was broken. Kris broke the kiss, her cheeks crimson. Heaving for breath, her impressive breasts rose and fell hypnotically. Elias didn't see the full-armed slap coming.
Delivered by a Demon Hunter, it was enough to knock even him sideways. His right cheek and jaw had gone numb. Being slapped by Kris Cuthbert had something of the same stunning effect as laying eyes on her or being kissed by her, but it was much less pleasant. Elias held a hand to his face, letting it cool the burning handmark on his cheek. Had he deserved that? He probably had.
Kris was stalking off towards her car, which had a giant robot sticker in the back window because of course it did. Even despite the circumstances, the way her ass moved in those clinging, brief shorts was something to behold. But Elias didn't have time to enjoy it. Gratefully feeling sensation return to his cheek, he strode after her.
"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry I kissed you."
He wasn't.
"It was dumb, it was an adrenaline thing. But we're not done."
Poor choice of words, given the blazing arousal coursing through his body.
"I mean... about what you are now. You think it's over because we fried a couple of dozen Bezuzu? There are legions upon legions of demons in Hell, more than you could imagine, and some of them make the Bezuzu look like rambunctious puppies. And there are worse things than demons. And every single one of them will be looking for you day and night from now on. I've spent my whole life studying the enemy. If you don't let me help, you're dead."
Kris was staring at the driver-side door. Elias felt a certain irritation, or rather an intensification of the irritation he already.
"Are you going to get in or ... ?"
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The last, best hope of humanity was slumped against her car sobbing to herself.
Elias was nonplussed. Over the past hour, he'd seen a flippant, lazy and apathetic Kris Cuthbert. He'd seen Kris Cuthbert newly energized and in battle-fury, laying about her like a warrior seraph. He'd seen a tantalizing, mouthwatering hint of a lusty, aroused Kris Cuthbert. What he hadn't been ready for was Kris Cuthbert crying. He looked at her helplessly. His knowledge of the Demon Courts and his mastery of strategy seemed equally unhelpful.
He knelt down beside her, and awkwardly patted her shoulder.
"Well, I can give you a ride home..." he ventured.
He'd been about to tell her that it was just as well that her ID had been destroyed, that the pawns of Hell would this very moment be searching frantically for any clues as to the new Demon Hunter's identity, but he decided that particular conversation could wait. He slid an arm around Kris' slender shoulders. For once, their proximity wasn't setting his brain on fire with lustful thoughts -his gesture was companionable. He tried to think of something to say.
"Um. You know I was supposed to be the one who became the Demon Hunter," he said at last. "That's why the... sword and everything. I spent my whole life in training for it. If things had worked out the way I'd planned, you'd..."
... still be working in that cheap, greasy diner. Still be taking shit from the sneering waitresses, the thuggish clientele, the asshole manager. Still be doing absolutely nothing with your life.
"Well, I'd have... "
... never met you.
"Actually," Elias found himself saying, not quite believing he was saying it, yet part of him recognizing its truth. "I think you did a lot better being a Demon Hunter than I could ever have."
Elias was nonplussed. Over the past hour, he'd seen a flippant, lazy and apathetic Kris Cuthbert. He'd seen Kris Cuthbert newly energized and in battle-fury, laying about her like a warrior seraph. He'd seen a tantalizing, mouthwatering hint of a lusty, aroused Kris Cuthbert. What he hadn't been ready for was Kris Cuthbert crying. He looked at her helplessly. His knowledge of the Demon Courts and his mastery of strategy seemed equally unhelpful.
He knelt down beside her, and awkwardly patted her shoulder.
"Well, I can give you a ride home..." he ventured.
He'd been about to tell her that it was just as well that her ID had been destroyed, that the pawns of Hell would this very moment be searching frantically for any clues as to the new Demon Hunter's identity, but he decided that particular conversation could wait. He slid an arm around Kris' slender shoulders. For once, their proximity wasn't setting his brain on fire with lustful thoughts -his gesture was companionable. He tried to think of something to say.
"Um. You know I was supposed to be the one who became the Demon Hunter," he said at last. "That's why the... sword and everything. I spent my whole life in training for it. If things had worked out the way I'd planned, you'd..."
... still be working in that cheap, greasy diner. Still be taking shit from the sneering waitresses, the thuggish clientele, the asshole manager. Still be doing absolutely nothing with your life.
"Well, I'd have... "
... never met you.
"Actually," Elias found himself saying, not quite believing he was saying it, yet part of him recognizing its truth. "I think you did a lot better being a Demon Hunter than I could ever have."
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Despite her teary eyes and flushed cheeks, Kris looked even more gorgeous than before. Perhaps that was because, against all the odds, there was now a smile on those lush, cupid's bow lips. Unexpectedly, they proved to be as suited to smiles as they'd been to kisses. Elias found himself wondering if there was a way to make the stunning, nubile young Demon Hunter smile more often. A few extremely pleasurable and athletic means of doing so came unbidden to his mind.
And then Kris was laughing, and Elias found himself laughing too, for the first time since his father's death.
"And you.. and you were standing on the bar, swinging a... frying pan, right? It was like a cartoon! The Bezuzu didn't know what hit them!"
He didn't talk that way. Demon fighting was grim, serious work that you were supposed to discuss with stony-faced sobriety. Instead he found himself laughing and joking with Kris like a pair of drinking buddies discussing a wild night out. He'd just regained control of himself when Kris launched into her body builder impression, flexing her muscles and arching her slender back the better to display her exquisite young body. It was too much. Elias burst out laughing again.
He eventually regained his composure.
"The bike will be fine," he said confidently. "She's been through worse. As for the blue light... well, we need to talk..."
And then Kris was laughing, and Elias found himself laughing too, for the first time since his father's death.
"And you.. and you were standing on the bar, swinging a... frying pan, right? It was like a cartoon! The Bezuzu didn't know what hit them!"
He didn't talk that way. Demon fighting was grim, serious work that you were supposed to discuss with stony-faced sobriety. Instead he found himself laughing and joking with Kris like a pair of drinking buddies discussing a wild night out. He'd just regained control of himself when Kris launched into her body builder impression, flexing her muscles and arching her slender back the better to display her exquisite young body. It was too much. Elias burst out laughing again.
He eventually regained his composure.
"The bike will be fine," he said confidently. "She's been through worse. As for the blue light... well, we need to talk..."
K
KattDclaw
Guest
Chapter Two – You’re getting the hang of it…sorta.
It had been a solid week since Elias had rode his snarling bike into her life and lifted the veil from her eyes. The world that Kris had lived in was gone almost completely, replaced by something that she couldn’t fully grasp. It was all so exciting and frightening at first; Elias had revealed to her the meaning of the blue light, her destiny as a Demon Hunter and the expected role that she was to play. It was destiny after all, even if it wasn’t exactly the destiny she had been destined for. Somehow she had stole Elias’ birthright, it was HIS destiny to become a Demon Hunter, not her. Yet here they were, with the power of the cosmos coursing through her body. The fear grew into excitement as Kris was introduced to the Van Der Phol mansion, it was her first time seeing a mansion let alone living in one. Living? Yes, living. The newest Demon Hunter couldn’t exactly share a two-bedroom apartment with a smelly hippy for a roommate, could they? Elias seemed adamant that she stay, just as he was adamant that her training begin almost immediately.
Training? Kris didn’t see the point in it; after all she had some initiate combat potential bestowed upon her from the Demon Hunter Legacy. Wasn’t that enough?
Obviously not.
That excitement was soon replaced by dread. Kris felt more like she was living with a drill instructor, every moment of the day had a purpose. If they weren’t training physically someone was trying to fill her mind with the history of Demon Hunting, demons themselves and five million other things Kris couldn’t comprehend. It was all too much. It only took two days for Kris to finally get fed up with it all (which was an impressive length of time for Kris Cuthbert) and started to slack off. It was obvious her focus was…limited, to say the least. Kris had a hard time concentrating on anything for a prolonged period of time, even if it was as simple as physical training. She took that for granted, even if her body was soft and weak, the mystical power that coursed through her veins made up for it. Still, she lacked any true form or grace, her style was sloppy and haphazard, Kris didn’t even know the proper way to hold a knife if it wasn’t the type used in a kitchen (even then she would be more apt to slice her own finger off). She wasn’t exactly gracious about any tips and hints that were offered. Training usually ended up with Kris getting irritated and her stomping off in a fit of rage.
She obviously wasn’t the nicest houseguest to have around, even before she had said a word the rest of Elias’ family looked aghast at the mere sight of her. Once the fact was known that she was now the Demon Hunter, well, Kris couldn’t help but laugh openly for a few moments. The looks on their faces were simply priceless! After a week though the looks weren’t funny anymore, training was becoming even more frustrating and her complete lack of understanding even the basic principles of demonic history was infuriating.
It was the eighth day since she had come to stay with Elias. Kris felt like she hadn’t learned a damn thing since she had walked through the doors, that all the people in the fancy halls and impressive clothing were still looking down on her. Frustration turned to anger and Kris took it out the only way she knew how: video games.
She had managed to smuggle in her gameboy with her clothing on the quick trip they made to her old apartment. It was one of the few things of her past that she clung to desperately, a small bastion of sanity in the chaotic sea that was her life. Kris hid in the last place she thought anyone would look for her, the library. Books were never her thing, they were all dusty and stinky, if she spent more than five minutes trying to read something she would start daydreaming. It was the perfect plan, Kris couldn’t see how anything could go wrong. She found a corner and hid behind a low bookshelf, using one of the moldering old tomes with the van der Pohl’s name written in fancy letters over the surface, as a pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable of pillows, but it was better than sitting on the floor. Kris sat with her legs crossed before her, elbows resting upon her knees with her frame hunched over herself. Within her grasp was the wide, flat electronic gadget with folding top. Its dual screens shone brightly, highlighting the beautiful features of its owner. Large emerald eyes flicked back and forth over the screen as her thumbs expertly slid over the buttons.
It was an old comfort, something that put Kris at ease completely. With her earbuds pushed securely into her ears she was completely obvious to the world around her as her fingers thrummed over the keys continuously.
It had been a solid week since Elias had rode his snarling bike into her life and lifted the veil from her eyes. The world that Kris had lived in was gone almost completely, replaced by something that she couldn’t fully grasp. It was all so exciting and frightening at first; Elias had revealed to her the meaning of the blue light, her destiny as a Demon Hunter and the expected role that she was to play. It was destiny after all, even if it wasn’t exactly the destiny she had been destined for. Somehow she had stole Elias’ birthright, it was HIS destiny to become a Demon Hunter, not her. Yet here they were, with the power of the cosmos coursing through her body. The fear grew into excitement as Kris was introduced to the Van Der Phol mansion, it was her first time seeing a mansion let alone living in one. Living? Yes, living. The newest Demon Hunter couldn’t exactly share a two-bedroom apartment with a smelly hippy for a roommate, could they? Elias seemed adamant that she stay, just as he was adamant that her training begin almost immediately.
Training? Kris didn’t see the point in it; after all she had some initiate combat potential bestowed upon her from the Demon Hunter Legacy. Wasn’t that enough?
Obviously not.
That excitement was soon replaced by dread. Kris felt more like she was living with a drill instructor, every moment of the day had a purpose. If they weren’t training physically someone was trying to fill her mind with the history of Demon Hunting, demons themselves and five million other things Kris couldn’t comprehend. It was all too much. It only took two days for Kris to finally get fed up with it all (which was an impressive length of time for Kris Cuthbert) and started to slack off. It was obvious her focus was…limited, to say the least. Kris had a hard time concentrating on anything for a prolonged period of time, even if it was as simple as physical training. She took that for granted, even if her body was soft and weak, the mystical power that coursed through her veins made up for it. Still, she lacked any true form or grace, her style was sloppy and haphazard, Kris didn’t even know the proper way to hold a knife if it wasn’t the type used in a kitchen (even then she would be more apt to slice her own finger off). She wasn’t exactly gracious about any tips and hints that were offered. Training usually ended up with Kris getting irritated and her stomping off in a fit of rage.
She obviously wasn’t the nicest houseguest to have around, even before she had said a word the rest of Elias’ family looked aghast at the mere sight of her. Once the fact was known that she was now the Demon Hunter, well, Kris couldn’t help but laugh openly for a few moments. The looks on their faces were simply priceless! After a week though the looks weren’t funny anymore, training was becoming even more frustrating and her complete lack of understanding even the basic principles of demonic history was infuriating.
It was the eighth day since she had come to stay with Elias. Kris felt like she hadn’t learned a damn thing since she had walked through the doors, that all the people in the fancy halls and impressive clothing were still looking down on her. Frustration turned to anger and Kris took it out the only way she knew how: video games.
She had managed to smuggle in her gameboy with her clothing on the quick trip they made to her old apartment. It was one of the few things of her past that she clung to desperately, a small bastion of sanity in the chaotic sea that was her life. Kris hid in the last place she thought anyone would look for her, the library. Books were never her thing, they were all dusty and stinky, if she spent more than five minutes trying to read something she would start daydreaming. It was the perfect plan, Kris couldn’t see how anything could go wrong. She found a corner and hid behind a low bookshelf, using one of the moldering old tomes with the van der Pohl’s name written in fancy letters over the surface, as a pillow. It wasn’t the most comfortable of pillows, but it was better than sitting on the floor. Kris sat with her legs crossed before her, elbows resting upon her knees with her frame hunched over herself. Within her grasp was the wide, flat electronic gadget with folding top. Its dual screens shone brightly, highlighting the beautiful features of its owner. Large emerald eyes flicked back and forth over the screen as her thumbs expertly slid over the buttons.
It was an old comfort, something that put Kris at ease completely. With her earbuds pushed securely into her ears she was completely obvious to the world around her as her fingers thrummed over the keys continuously.
Maka
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2003
- Posts
- 1,432
"She should have been here ten minutes ago."
Uncle Lucas' study in the mansion's right wing was a match for the man himself -dusty, austere, browning with decades of tobacco smoke. Lucas sat rigidly in the thronelike chair behind his massive mahagonany desk, his posture absolutely ramrod stiff and his hands folded in his lap. Uncle Lucas had wasted half an hour of his very first session with Kris arguing with her about her slouch.
He was supposed to be instructing the new Demon Hunter in the infernal hierarchies and the strengths and weaknesses of the major demon clans -information that could save her life on a hunt. But Elias had a strong suspicion that Lukas felt it was almost more important to try and mold Kris into his idea of a proper young lady. Elias had just barely talked him out of the idea of elocution lessons, of making her walk around the room with a stack of books on her head, of burning her 'inappropriate' clothing and selecting a suitably modest new wardrobe for her.
Kris horrified Uncle Lucas, as she did most of the van der Pohls, although her stunning looks, huge breasts and perfect derriere recieved their due, abashed admiration from the younger males of the family, which made Kris even less popular with the women. Elias' cousin Jackson always seemed to be happening by during Kris' training sessions, where stripped to a revealing black leotard that clung tightly to her luscious curves, Kris worked up a fine level of perspiration. Elias did not like his hungry glances at her.
Elias' family had been sympathetic to his situation. Everybody knew that he should have been the Demon Hunter. "You'd have been so much better, dear," Aunt Honoria had once, when they came across Kris sprawled out asleep, with her head rest on an open copy of the demonology tome she was meant to be studying.
But Elias found himself oddly annoyed by all the unspoken sympathy, all the knowing looks. Instead of laughing, he bristled at the snide little putdowns family members aimed at Kris, and even at the repeated suggestions that Elias should have had the role. But he should have. Shouldn't he? And Elias had felt just as baffled and irritated by Kris when he first met her. In fact, he still was now -her laziness, her carelessness, her endlessly flippant attitude despite knowing the enemy she faced. At times, she made his blood boil.
And yet. When he'd seen her sleeping her facedown on Weyer's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, his first impulse hadn't been to shake her roughly awake, which was what Aunt Honoria had done. He had instead had a sudden urge to run his fingers through that short red hair, to scoop her up and carry her to his bed to let her sleep.
And that bed was the site of numerous considerably less innocent fantasies. Every night Elias had had vivid, obscene dreams involving Kris Cuthbert. He'd dreamt of fucking her to panting, sated exhaustion, of bending her supple, slender and generously endowed body into every concievable position. Waking still in the mists of lust, he'd think that Kris was actually lying beside him and reach for her with a growl, ready to put his massive, throbbing erection to good use on that incredible body, only to be disappointed. Elias had taken up a regimen of cold showers and jogs around the mansion's extensive grounds.
Aunt Lucretia was the only one of the family who seemed to have taken to Kris at all, contrary to Elias' expectations. "She's got the fire", she'd said approvingly after meeting her. Lucretia seemed indifferent to Kris' lack of polish, perhaps even amused, although she'd rapped Elias' knuckles plenty of times for his slightest breaches of etiquette as a child.
"Ten. Minutes. Ago" Lucas repeated, emphasising his displeasure with raps on the desk.
"I'll go and look for her," Elias said. The truth was he was happy to get out of the fug and uncomfortable warmth of Lucas' dark, smoky lair.
He knew with surprising certainty where Kris would be. He understood the way her mind worked. She had too much imagination to hide in the few parts of the mansion that she liked even slightly, but she was too impulsive to think of doing anything other than the reverse. Kris hated the library, therefore she'd have chosen the library to hide in to shirk her classes. But he didn't tell Lucas that.
And so, walking with graceful and soundless tread, Elias soon found Kris in one of the library's aisles. She was sitting on a hefty book of genealogy, entirely absorbed in the device she held in her hands. Her face looked even more beautiful in concentration, like that of a gorgeous seraph contemplating weighty cosmic matters, rather than a truant playing a video game. Why did he want to smack her, hug her, and fuck her all at once?
Elias approached her, and knelt down to bring his fierce blue gaze to bear on her. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Kris?"
Uncle Lucas' study in the mansion's right wing was a match for the man himself -dusty, austere, browning with decades of tobacco smoke. Lucas sat rigidly in the thronelike chair behind his massive mahagonany desk, his posture absolutely ramrod stiff and his hands folded in his lap. Uncle Lucas had wasted half an hour of his very first session with Kris arguing with her about her slouch.
He was supposed to be instructing the new Demon Hunter in the infernal hierarchies and the strengths and weaknesses of the major demon clans -information that could save her life on a hunt. But Elias had a strong suspicion that Lukas felt it was almost more important to try and mold Kris into his idea of a proper young lady. Elias had just barely talked him out of the idea of elocution lessons, of making her walk around the room with a stack of books on her head, of burning her 'inappropriate' clothing and selecting a suitably modest new wardrobe for her.
Kris horrified Uncle Lucas, as she did most of the van der Pohls, although her stunning looks, huge breasts and perfect derriere recieved their due, abashed admiration from the younger males of the family, which made Kris even less popular with the women. Elias' cousin Jackson always seemed to be happening by during Kris' training sessions, where stripped to a revealing black leotard that clung tightly to her luscious curves, Kris worked up a fine level of perspiration. Elias did not like his hungry glances at her.
Elias' family had been sympathetic to his situation. Everybody knew that he should have been the Demon Hunter. "You'd have been so much better, dear," Aunt Honoria had once, when they came across Kris sprawled out asleep, with her head rest on an open copy of the demonology tome she was meant to be studying.
But Elias found himself oddly annoyed by all the unspoken sympathy, all the knowing looks. Instead of laughing, he bristled at the snide little putdowns family members aimed at Kris, and even at the repeated suggestions that Elias should have had the role. But he should have. Shouldn't he? And Elias had felt just as baffled and irritated by Kris when he first met her. In fact, he still was now -her laziness, her carelessness, her endlessly flippant attitude despite knowing the enemy she faced. At times, she made his blood boil.
And yet. When he'd seen her sleeping her facedown on Weyer's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, his first impulse hadn't been to shake her roughly awake, which was what Aunt Honoria had done. He had instead had a sudden urge to run his fingers through that short red hair, to scoop her up and carry her to his bed to let her sleep.
And that bed was the site of numerous considerably less innocent fantasies. Every night Elias had had vivid, obscene dreams involving Kris Cuthbert. He'd dreamt of fucking her to panting, sated exhaustion, of bending her supple, slender and generously endowed body into every concievable position. Waking still in the mists of lust, he'd think that Kris was actually lying beside him and reach for her with a growl, ready to put his massive, throbbing erection to good use on that incredible body, only to be disappointed. Elias had taken up a regimen of cold showers and jogs around the mansion's extensive grounds.
Aunt Lucretia was the only one of the family who seemed to have taken to Kris at all, contrary to Elias' expectations. "She's got the fire", she'd said approvingly after meeting her. Lucretia seemed indifferent to Kris' lack of polish, perhaps even amused, although she'd rapped Elias' knuckles plenty of times for his slightest breaches of etiquette as a child.
"Ten. Minutes. Ago" Lucas repeated, emphasising his displeasure with raps on the desk.
"I'll go and look for her," Elias said. The truth was he was happy to get out of the fug and uncomfortable warmth of Lucas' dark, smoky lair.
He knew with surprising certainty where Kris would be. He understood the way her mind worked. She had too much imagination to hide in the few parts of the mansion that she liked even slightly, but she was too impulsive to think of doing anything other than the reverse. Kris hated the library, therefore she'd have chosen the library to hide in to shirk her classes. But he didn't tell Lucas that.
And so, walking with graceful and soundless tread, Elias soon found Kris in one of the library's aisles. She was sitting on a hefty book of genealogy, entirely absorbed in the device she held in her hands. Her face looked even more beautiful in concentration, like that of a gorgeous seraph contemplating weighty cosmic matters, rather than a truant playing a video game. Why did he want to smack her, hug her, and fuck her all at once?
Elias approached her, and knelt down to bring his fierce blue gaze to bear on her. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Kris?"
K
KattDclaw
Guest
Kris was completely oblivious to the world around her, with those earbuds shoved into her ears and the flickering light from her gameboy, nothing existed but the world of her game. She only had a few more levels before she could finally finish this once and for all! The irony of playing a roleplaying game where she fought monsters and demons was lost on the young girl. Somehow she preferred it in the digital format, it was easier to accept and digest. But that was Kris Cuthbert more or less summed up perfectly. She didn't see Elias till it was too late, till he had a hand on her shoulder and was in full contact with her shirt and skin. She snapped her head up so quick it connected with the bookcase behind her with a dull but resounding thump.
“Ah! Fuck!” Kris cried out in pain, her brow furrow and her left eye squeezing shut tightly. The pain lanced across the back of her head and neck, down into her eyes for a few seconds, sadly the power of a demon hunter did little to help deal with pain. She found that out when the adrenline wore off the day after first meeting Elias, her foot was sore for a good day or two after she had kicked the steel door off its hinges.
“Whadda you doin' sneakin' up on me like that?” Kris shot out accusingly, blind to the fact she was the one playing hooky. Her voice was louder than it need be, the fact the music still blared in her ears the culprit. His lips were moving, saying something that Kris couldn't make out. It took a moment for her brain to register it all and for her hand to yank the buds from her ears. She still wore that angry expression, mostly from the fact that she had smacked her head so soundly. Kris didn't really need help making a fool of herself, it seemed that she did it on a regular basis since she had come here. No one accepted her for who she was, they all expected her to be some well-groomed and skilled demon hunter. She didn't have Elias' pedigree, unfortunately, she didn't come from a long line of hunters, her dad was an accountant and her mother a homemaker for fuck's sake! It would have been a lot to take in even for someone with a better handle on their own life, for Kris it was quickly becoming too much to bear.
Still, when she looked into those dark blue eyes she couldn't help but feel a tingle at the base of her spine. They had kissed, just once, at the climax of their first meeting, it hadn't gone further than a quick, but very passionate kiss. She had decided then and there that it couldn't happen again, wouldn't ever happen again. Elias was one of those haughty people that looked down on her, she could feel the angry rippling off his aristocratic aura. She was a thief of his birthright at worst and a constant disappointment at best. Kris wanted to punch him square in the face and at the same time kiss him, god dammit, how could she feel such opposite emotions at the same time? She could recall the feel of his lips against hers, the way his strong hands clasped down upon her with an urgent need.
Late at night she would give into the lustful urges those thoughts brought out, in her weakness she would place a hand between her thighs and push herself over the edge, biting her lip and whispering his name. She wanted him and knew she couldn't have him, the thought of what his family would think upon finding out she was fucking Elias was too much for Kris to even contemplate. But then again...could they really think any lower of her?
“What did I forget this time?” Kris asked after the inner debate broke, she honestly didn't know how long she had been staring into his eyes at this point.
“Can I at least save my game? I'm on the last dungeon...”
“Ah! Fuck!” Kris cried out in pain, her brow furrow and her left eye squeezing shut tightly. The pain lanced across the back of her head and neck, down into her eyes for a few seconds, sadly the power of a demon hunter did little to help deal with pain. She found that out when the adrenline wore off the day after first meeting Elias, her foot was sore for a good day or two after she had kicked the steel door off its hinges.
“Whadda you doin' sneakin' up on me like that?” Kris shot out accusingly, blind to the fact she was the one playing hooky. Her voice was louder than it need be, the fact the music still blared in her ears the culprit. His lips were moving, saying something that Kris couldn't make out. It took a moment for her brain to register it all and for her hand to yank the buds from her ears. She still wore that angry expression, mostly from the fact that she had smacked her head so soundly. Kris didn't really need help making a fool of herself, it seemed that she did it on a regular basis since she had come here. No one accepted her for who she was, they all expected her to be some well-groomed and skilled demon hunter. She didn't have Elias' pedigree, unfortunately, she didn't come from a long line of hunters, her dad was an accountant and her mother a homemaker for fuck's sake! It would have been a lot to take in even for someone with a better handle on their own life, for Kris it was quickly becoming too much to bear.
Still, when she looked into those dark blue eyes she couldn't help but feel a tingle at the base of her spine. They had kissed, just once, at the climax of their first meeting, it hadn't gone further than a quick, but very passionate kiss. She had decided then and there that it couldn't happen again, wouldn't ever happen again. Elias was one of those haughty people that looked down on her, she could feel the angry rippling off his aristocratic aura. She was a thief of his birthright at worst and a constant disappointment at best. Kris wanted to punch him square in the face and at the same time kiss him, god dammit, how could she feel such opposite emotions at the same time? She could recall the feel of his lips against hers, the way his strong hands clasped down upon her with an urgent need.
Late at night she would give into the lustful urges those thoughts brought out, in her weakness she would place a hand between her thighs and push herself over the edge, biting her lip and whispering his name. She wanted him and knew she couldn't have him, the thought of what his family would think upon finding out she was fucking Elias was too much for Kris to even contemplate. But then again...could they really think any lower of her?
“What did I forget this time?” Kris asked after the inner debate broke, she honestly didn't know how long she had been staring into his eyes at this point.
“Can I at least save my game? I'm on the last dungeon...”
Maka
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2003
- Posts
- 1,432
"Whadda you doin' sneakin' up on me like that?", Kris demanded, an expression of fiery indignation on her lovely, delicate features. The crack of her skull against the underside of the bookshelf had made even Elias wince.
"I wasn't sneaking up on you," Elias replied with a frown. "You're the one who..."
He trailed off, seeing that Kris couldn't have heard a word with the earbuds still in place. Driven by an odd curiosity, Elias had once picked up Kris' beloved gameboy while she was training. He had fiddled with it uncomprehendingly for a few minutes, then gingerly and carefully set it back down, as one might an unexploded bomb.
He'd never been permitted video games or TV as a child, since this would have been too big a potential distraction from the Great Work. Even the number of films he'd seen were in the single digits. Sometimes he wondered if he'd be better able to understand Kris if he had some kind of knowledge of these comic books and cartoons and video games that she seemed to care so much more about than her own life. Then again, he wasn't sure that anything would help him understand Kris Cuthbert.
Kris had now snatched the earbuds away and was staring at him, her lips slightly parted, a tiny sheen of moisture on them making them sparkle deliciously, enticingly. Her eyes were glowing like green stars. Why did she just get hotter, sexier, more irresistible the more annoyed he was with her? He could just grab her there and then, clear a nearby table of its freight of dusty irrelevances, and have her there and then, break the respectful hush of the family library with her throaty, lusty cries.
"What did I forget this time? Can I at least save my game? I'm on the last dungeon... "
Elias snapped out of his lustful reverie.
"Your last what? Never mind... it's Uncle Lukas. You were supposed to be... "
He paused. He suddenly couldn't bear the idea of going back into that study again today, of watching for the hundredth time the unwinnable conflict between Kris' stubborn apathy and Uncle Lukas' incredibly dry and lifeless presentation of information.
"You're not taking this seriously. This stuff we're trying to teach you -it could mean the difference between life and death. Don't you understand that?"
His eyes were blazing with anger -at Kris, at Uncle Lukas, at himself. Why couldn't things be simple and like he'd imagined them when he thought he was going to be the Demon Hunter. The fact was that he'd tried shouting at Kris before, he'd tried being reasonable, he'd even racked his brains for something he could bribe her with. Sometimes she had seemed to try to concentrate, for a while. But Elias was starting to realize that Kris had never really applied herself to anything for most of her life. Even a life-changing supernatural intervention had not yet changed that.
Instead of continuing his rant, he stopped. He leant in, a hand on the bookshelf above her fiery red head, his tall form towering over her. He remembered how she'd first looked -the pure delight playing across her features after kicking a door in or bashing a Bezuzu over the head with a frying pan. Maybe that was the trouble -too much theory, and not enough of a reminder what this was all about. Maybe it was time for a field trip.
He'd gotten a letter a few days ago, from Clark Smith, an artist and an old friend. Clark had recently taken a cabin in the Sierras. In his letter, he'd written of seeing inexplicable lights about the cabin at night and seeing "strange things". Knowing of the van der Pohl interest in the occult, he'd written to Elias to suggest he come and stay.
It had sounded like a mischief demon to Elias, and thus not of major importance. But that meant that it could be the ideal first job for the Demon Hunter -a way of easing Kris into the role, introducing her to fieldwork and getting her out of the mansion. That would be easier on everyone's nerves.
"Look. Forget Uncle Lukas. Do you want to go on a road trip?" he asked at last.
"I wasn't sneaking up on you," Elias replied with a frown. "You're the one who..."
He trailed off, seeing that Kris couldn't have heard a word with the earbuds still in place. Driven by an odd curiosity, Elias had once picked up Kris' beloved gameboy while she was training. He had fiddled with it uncomprehendingly for a few minutes, then gingerly and carefully set it back down, as one might an unexploded bomb.
He'd never been permitted video games or TV as a child, since this would have been too big a potential distraction from the Great Work. Even the number of films he'd seen were in the single digits. Sometimes he wondered if he'd be better able to understand Kris if he had some kind of knowledge of these comic books and cartoons and video games that she seemed to care so much more about than her own life. Then again, he wasn't sure that anything would help him understand Kris Cuthbert.
Kris had now snatched the earbuds away and was staring at him, her lips slightly parted, a tiny sheen of moisture on them making them sparkle deliciously, enticingly. Her eyes were glowing like green stars. Why did she just get hotter, sexier, more irresistible the more annoyed he was with her? He could just grab her there and then, clear a nearby table of its freight of dusty irrelevances, and have her there and then, break the respectful hush of the family library with her throaty, lusty cries.
"What did I forget this time? Can I at least save my game? I'm on the last dungeon... "
Elias snapped out of his lustful reverie.
"Your last what? Never mind... it's Uncle Lukas. You were supposed to be... "
He paused. He suddenly couldn't bear the idea of going back into that study again today, of watching for the hundredth time the unwinnable conflict between Kris' stubborn apathy and Uncle Lukas' incredibly dry and lifeless presentation of information.
"You're not taking this seriously. This stuff we're trying to teach you -it could mean the difference between life and death. Don't you understand that?"
His eyes were blazing with anger -at Kris, at Uncle Lukas, at himself. Why couldn't things be simple and like he'd imagined them when he thought he was going to be the Demon Hunter. The fact was that he'd tried shouting at Kris before, he'd tried being reasonable, he'd even racked his brains for something he could bribe her with. Sometimes she had seemed to try to concentrate, for a while. But Elias was starting to realize that Kris had never really applied herself to anything for most of her life. Even a life-changing supernatural intervention had not yet changed that.
Instead of continuing his rant, he stopped. He leant in, a hand on the bookshelf above her fiery red head, his tall form towering over her. He remembered how she'd first looked -the pure delight playing across her features after kicking a door in or bashing a Bezuzu over the head with a frying pan. Maybe that was the trouble -too much theory, and not enough of a reminder what this was all about. Maybe it was time for a field trip.
He'd gotten a letter a few days ago, from Clark Smith, an artist and an old friend. Clark had recently taken a cabin in the Sierras. In his letter, he'd written of seeing inexplicable lights about the cabin at night and seeing "strange things". Knowing of the van der Pohl interest in the occult, he'd written to Elias to suggest he come and stay.
It had sounded like a mischief demon to Elias, and thus not of major importance. But that meant that it could be the ideal first job for the Demon Hunter -a way of easing Kris into the role, introducing her to fieldwork and getting her out of the mansion. That would be easier on everyone's nerves.
"Look. Forget Uncle Lukas. Do you want to go on a road trip?" he asked at last.
K
KattDclaw
Guest
Kris met Elias’ gaze steadily as the confusion grew across his face briefly. It was amazing to her that a person could grow up and not even know what Nintendo was, let alone not be able to quote at least one of their favorite movies. It made absolutely no sense to her, it was like all he had ever done with his life was train to kill demons; the very fact that it was true never once managed to sink into Kris’ thick skull. They were so utterly different, if fate had intervened they would have blissfully gone on with their lives and never know that the other existed.
At times Kris wished so desperately that things were back to the way they were. The life of a real Demon Hunter was far from as awesome as she expected it to be, it was all seriousness and dullness, if anything it felt like being back in high school. The teachers didn’t want to be here, they certainly didn’t want to have to deal with her, she was nothing but an annoyance. That fact was driven home the moment Elias said the name Uncle Lukas. Kris had given him the cute nickname of the Marlboro Man, since his office stunk to high hell of tobacco. It didn’t go over well when she had off-handedly called him such to his face (and having to explain the reference only made the situation even more awkward). Lukas was dry and lifeless to say the least, the same way he went about presenting his information to Kris. It all went over her head, the more boring he got the more resistant to being agreeable Kris became. By now she was mostly doing it to annoy the old man, if anything getting a little rise out of the stodgily man made the hours wasted worth it.
Elias confirmed quickly that Kris hadn’t taken anything seriously. Perhaps a first she had tried, though the general attitude of his family made her shut down completely. The fact that it was life or death rarely felt real, none of it felt real; it was all just one big farce. When Elias called her out on the fact, well, it didn’t help her attitude one bit. The anger rose in those green eyes and Kris set her jaw and swallowed hastily.
“I understand it, Elias. That doesn’t make it any less boring! Have you guys ever heard of a Power Point presentation? You realize it is two-thousand and fourteen, right? You’d think you guys could afford at least HBO or a broadband connection. Dial up, seriously? Besides-“ Kris literally exploded in her wroth, the sentences came one after another with the only pauses the times that she had to stop and take a breath.
“How in the hell is knowing the name of some tenth century dude that got himself disemboweled by some kind of mega demon going to help me out? I already know that getting disemboweled is bad for my health. Hmmkay?”
Kris was ready for it. She had seen the angry growing in those beautiful blue eyes of his. His anger was righteous and terrifying, yet at the same time…god when she saw the light in his eyes shine so brightly she wanted to press herself up against him all over again. Maybe it was just her imagination but she couldn’t recall a kiss before that had as much passion behind it as the one she shared with Elias. He knew nothing of the real world (or her interpretation of the world), Kris couldn’t help but wonder just how much he knew about sex. On some level she readily accepted that rage and wanted more, her limbs felt tingly as she prepared herself for the retort that was to come.
Yet it didn’t…how he could turn on a dime like that was beyond Kris (don’t mention to her she did it as well). The anger turned to some kind of odd resolve, Kris heard the words but they didn’t completely register at first. The realization crept across her face like the approaching dawn, slow and subtle but constant until the sun shone of comprehension shone brightly upon her features. Her lips parted fully, widening in a smile, her hands pushed against the ground and she rose up just as he leaned in. They were mere inches from one another now; Kris could feel his breath against her moist lips as she spoke.
“You mean…getting the fuck out of here? Me and you? For sure!” She almost squealed the words; a undeniable giddiness overtook her as the truth sunk in. She had no idea what he was intending, no, she felt hook line and sinker for the bait that Elias dangled in front of her face.
“I’m dying for a pizza. No one will deliver here. I know this awesome place down by Johnson Street. They make a deep dish so thick you need a knife and fork to eat it!” She beamed and grinned, brandishing that smile more potently than any weapon she had thus far trained with. Could he really say no to that?
At times Kris wished so desperately that things were back to the way they were. The life of a real Demon Hunter was far from as awesome as she expected it to be, it was all seriousness and dullness, if anything it felt like being back in high school. The teachers didn’t want to be here, they certainly didn’t want to have to deal with her, she was nothing but an annoyance. That fact was driven home the moment Elias said the name Uncle Lukas. Kris had given him the cute nickname of the Marlboro Man, since his office stunk to high hell of tobacco. It didn’t go over well when she had off-handedly called him such to his face (and having to explain the reference only made the situation even more awkward). Lukas was dry and lifeless to say the least, the same way he went about presenting his information to Kris. It all went over her head, the more boring he got the more resistant to being agreeable Kris became. By now she was mostly doing it to annoy the old man, if anything getting a little rise out of the stodgily man made the hours wasted worth it.
Elias confirmed quickly that Kris hadn’t taken anything seriously. Perhaps a first she had tried, though the general attitude of his family made her shut down completely. The fact that it was life or death rarely felt real, none of it felt real; it was all just one big farce. When Elias called her out on the fact, well, it didn’t help her attitude one bit. The anger rose in those green eyes and Kris set her jaw and swallowed hastily.
“I understand it, Elias. That doesn’t make it any less boring! Have you guys ever heard of a Power Point presentation? You realize it is two-thousand and fourteen, right? You’d think you guys could afford at least HBO or a broadband connection. Dial up, seriously? Besides-“ Kris literally exploded in her wroth, the sentences came one after another with the only pauses the times that she had to stop and take a breath.
“How in the hell is knowing the name of some tenth century dude that got himself disemboweled by some kind of mega demon going to help me out? I already know that getting disemboweled is bad for my health. Hmmkay?”
Kris was ready for it. She had seen the angry growing in those beautiful blue eyes of his. His anger was righteous and terrifying, yet at the same time…god when she saw the light in his eyes shine so brightly she wanted to press herself up against him all over again. Maybe it was just her imagination but she couldn’t recall a kiss before that had as much passion behind it as the one she shared with Elias. He knew nothing of the real world (or her interpretation of the world), Kris couldn’t help but wonder just how much he knew about sex. On some level she readily accepted that rage and wanted more, her limbs felt tingly as she prepared herself for the retort that was to come.
Yet it didn’t…how he could turn on a dime like that was beyond Kris (don’t mention to her she did it as well). The anger turned to some kind of odd resolve, Kris heard the words but they didn’t completely register at first. The realization crept across her face like the approaching dawn, slow and subtle but constant until the sun shone of comprehension shone brightly upon her features. Her lips parted fully, widening in a smile, her hands pushed against the ground and she rose up just as he leaned in. They were mere inches from one another now; Kris could feel his breath against her moist lips as she spoke.
“You mean…getting the fuck out of here? Me and you? For sure!” She almost squealed the words; a undeniable giddiness overtook her as the truth sunk in. She had no idea what he was intending, no, she felt hook line and sinker for the bait that Elias dangled in front of her face.
“I’m dying for a pizza. No one will deliver here. I know this awesome place down by Johnson Street. They make a deep dish so thick you need a knife and fork to eat it!” She beamed and grinned, brandishing that smile more potently than any weapon she had thus far trained with. Could he really say no to that?
