Kraken Killjoy (Son of Fire Book 2) Read online

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  There was only one old person I liked in Foulwater, and that was Geeze. He was a one-armed elf who had befriended me. After seeing him cuckold Uncle Dog, I couldn’t help but think of Geeze as a more lecherous Elrond.

  My winged friend dumped me in the dirt before landing on a stack of mossy stone blocks. She wore a rough-spun tunic Figg had made for her. It had slits in the back to allow for her magnificent feathered wings. The woman had white hair, soft, straight, and long, that was tied back with a leather thong. She had creamy, pale skin that didn’t seem to tan. I’d never seen a woman with a better complexion. It was Snow White territory. Disney princesses would lose their minds over her.

  And yet, that morning, her skin didn’t have her normal glow. Also, her wings weren’t as fluffy and feathery as they normally were. A few of the feathers came loose and floated to the ground. Even the woman’s eyes, a lovely aquamarine color, didn’t have their normal gleam. She looked sickly.

  Her eyes begged me for something. What, I didn’t know.

  “Hey, Angelina, I need you to try something other than meaningful glances, okay?”

  She let out a shriek. It reminded me of the first night she’d stayed at my place, when she’d nearly shattered windows with her scream. She had a hatred of the merfolk, which made no sense. We’d found her in a box as part of the Kankar’s treasure hoard—that treasure included more than a few merfolk artifacts. So far, we hadn’t figured out the connection.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I know you don’t like the name, but we don’t know what else to call you.”

  She closed her eyes, brow furrowed. She had her wings tucked behind her back.

  She leapt down from the wall, grabbed a stick, and drew in the dirt. I watched.

  She spelled out letters, Xiddian letters, which my head somehow translated. I’d been given the gift of a universal translator when my soul had changed during my summoning.

  I don’t recommend being summoned. It sucks ass. Not only was it excruciatingly painful, but it also gave me amnesia and a brand-new soul. I liked my other one. Back on Earth, I’d had magical dragon powers. Now? I had something different. None of my fellow magic-users in Foulwater had any idea what was going on with me. Unlike them, I had levels and a skill tree.

  The winged woman stood, arms crossed.

  There was a word in the dust. “Dryx?” I asked. Of course it had the Y. As in why would an angel have to deal with some dumb I like some kind of normal land girl?

  She nodded. Her brows were knit, and it was clear she was terribly upset. She opened her mouth and then closed it. Then she rushed over to me, pushed me back, and hiked up her tunic over her hips. I was given a nice view of her pubic hair, as white as the hairs on her head. She wasn’t wearing underwear. She straddled me and started to kiss me.

  She smelled good, musky with a nice perfume, spicy, not flowery. Her wings closed in around us, and the spicy musk came from them. Her lips were full on mine, and soft, and I was about to ease her back, but then I found her tongue in my mouth.

  The heat of the kiss made it hard to talk. And holding her back, my hands fell on her wings, and she moaned in my mouth. I caressed her wings, and she moaned louder. At the same time, she was grinding herself on my rigid cock. One of the great joys in life was having a woman rub herself on me. Guys are always fucking horny. But get a girl to lose control? That is worth the bullshit of life, right there.

  She pushed her tits against my chest. The heat of her body was making me sweat. Both of my hands were full of her wings, and I felt the hard bones under the feathers. They made perfect handles. The possibilities were endless. Rhee was right to get turned on by the woman’s interesting anatomy.

  But this was all happening so suddenly. It had only been six weeks since we’d opened the box to get her out, enough for the weather to change and the mosquitoes to emerge. It was late spring, early summer, and relatively nice, all things considered.

  Yes, I’d noticed her long looks. We’d smiled at each other. Hell, we slept night after night in different beds, but in the same room. I wasn’t going to make a move on her, though. Rhee teased me about it. The elf said that because the winged woman couldn’t talk, she couldn’t talk dirty to me, so I wasn’t as interested.

  It was more I wanted her story before I banged her. There was an old country music star who said you should never have sex with a woman crazier than you. I took that as the best advice possible. It’s hard to gauge a person’s relative sanity when you can’t talk to them.

  I got the winged woman’s tongue out of my mouth and pulled her off me by the wings.

  She winced.

  I felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt her. Those wings were sensitive, I guess. Made sense. She did like them stroked, that was clear.

  She blinked at me, brow furrowed.

  “Look, Dryx, is it Dryx?”

  She nodded, but the intensity in her stare didn’t lesson. Did her skin look better? Were her wings fluffier? It seemed so.

  “Dryx,” I said. “You and I are friends, right?”

  She squinted at me. Then she closed her eyes out of frustration. She sat back and held up her left hand. She made a circle using her pointer finger and her thumb, like an okay sign. She tapped that sign against her chest.

  I thought I knew where this was heading.

  She poked me in the chest with her right pointer finger, then made the universal symbol for sex—right finger pumping through the okay hole of her left hand.

  “You want to have sex with me.” Yes, it was lame of me to say that. But I guess I was feeling out of my depth. I was on the ground, in the ruins of a guard tower on another world, with a winged woman, naked from the waist down, straddling me.

  “Would the sex help you in some way?” I asked.

  She nodded, several times, very vigorous nodding.

  It was clear that yes, she liked me, but she also had some kind of need. I didn’t have to worry about a sexually transmitted infection. Rhee had been shocked at the very idea. She had mentioned she’d heard of a pirate captain named Gonorrhea. Yep, good ’ol Captain Gonorrhea, of the clipper ship Syphilis. Slow clap. Ha. Clap.

  “What about me getting you pregnant?” I asked. “Did your people also get hit with this Great Diseases thing?”

  A nod. She gave me a smoldering look. It was clear, if she could’ve, she would’ve begged me for sex. She needed this. I wasn’t sure why, or what it meant. Her timing was good. I’d just talked with both Rhee and Figg. Both assumed I would bang the new woman. At least I had a name now. And I did feel like I knew her. She’d been damaged, yes, and yet, there was a proud strength there. Every day she’d grown stronger and more confident.

  I was only in my pants, and I wasn’t wearing underwear either. Her eyes took in my chest, my arms, and the hurricane circle on my left arm. From the light in her eyes, it was clear that she liked what she saw. I had to laugh a little.

  She undid the buttons on the left side of the tunic. She then eased it off, peeling it off her wings and letting it drop. Her medium-sized breasts had the cutest nipples, the size of silver dollars, with nice little pink nubs in the center.

  She saw me looking. She smiled and confidently cupped her tits before pulling on the sensitive tips. She sighed and grew hotter. Her wings gave us shade against the rising sun. I could smell the weeds heating up, but mostly I smelled her spicy scent.

  She helped me take off my pants. I sat naked with my butt in the dirt. Weeds scratched my back. I didn’t care.

  She was back on me. This time, there was nothing stopping me from sliding up inside her. I’d wanted to check out her sex in greater detail, but she had skipped the foreplay for the main event. Damn. I liked foreplay. But there was no arguing with her.

  There was no arguing with myself. I had to close my eyes because it felt so good.

  She didn’t like that so much. She grabbed my face, so I opened my eyes and stared into hers. That sparkle was back—her aquamarine irises shined like jewels.

&nbs
p; I grabbed her wings and thrust up into her. She grunted every time I filled her. My pelvic bone smacked into her. Her hot tits were sweaty, or I was, and I liked how hot we were getting. I liked the feel of her against me, but needed to taste her skin. Really, I’d wanted to lick her slit, but I’d settle for her tits.

  I sucked on a nipple, and she clutched my head to her. Her nipples got so hard in my mouth. I was given even more of her scent. I knew that Rhee would have so much fun with this passionate winged creature. If Dryx was into girls. I had no idea. It wasn’t like we could talk much.

  Dryx pushed me off her breast, and then she was sucking on my tongue, licking my lips, and slamming back into me. More grunts of lust from her, savage, almost bestial sounds. She worked her hips, rubbing her clit on me. She was back to staring me in the eyes. Sweat dripped down her face and onto my chest. I found that sexy as fuck.

  Her eyes lit up with a supernatural glow. We’d assumed Dryx came from Rydd R’Tah, but we weren’t sure. With me up inside her, with her eyes glowing, I wondered if she wasn’t an angel after all. The main religion on Xid had to do with the seven angels, who had watered the Tree of Life. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this winged creature was one of them.

  She was coming. I could feel her tunnel clutch me. Before my eyes, her skin got that luster it had before, and new feathers grew as her wings grew fluffier and brighter. Whatever was happening, it was helping her. This was an interesting turn of events. Was she sucking away my soul? My atma did respond to her orgasm, and I was given a bit of power. On this world, magical energy was called shakti.

  She kissed me, laughing, and I loved the sound of it. The winged woman hadn’t laughed much since I’d met her.

  She nodded at me, eyes bright. That sexy little smile never left her face. She was feeling good, obviously, and she wanted me to have my fun.

  I let go of control. With my right hand, I gripped her ass. My left hand gripped a wing, the bones strong and unyielding. I pounded up into her. She gave me a tit to suck as I thrust up, over and over, as her juices covered me. She grunted again as I fucked her.

  I felt the tingles start.

  I liked the sound of her grunts. I liked the spicy musk of her wings. I liked her muscled body, so strong, with lean muscles that I hadn’t noticed before. I wasn’t sure what kind of person she was, only that she had wings. However, now, with the sex fueling her, I thought she might be a warrior, and maybe a powerful one.

  Her sounds, her scent, her feel—her juicy clutching sex—overtook me. I let out a cry. The sensations were so perfect. I felt myself explode into her, riding the waves of bliss, and yes, again, I felt shakti sweep into me. My skin glowed. Her eyes radiated a blue-green light. Her wings were outstretched, longer, bigger, better. Her arms were twice the size they’d been. Every one of her abdominal muscles was defined in perfect detail. Sweat dropped down from her face and ran down her tits.

  She looked down at me, obviously relieved. Then she made a face. I wasn’t sure why the change, but it was like she went from being grateful, as if I’d saved her life, to being disgusted with me. Or was that disgust for herself? I had no way to know.

  She rose, gathered her tunic, and leapt up onto a wall. Her wings flapped and she was taken into the sky, naked, holding her clothes. She wasn’t flying back to the city, but to the west. It was like she’d gotten what she’d needed from me and was leaving forever.

  I thought about putting on my pants, but I was a mess. She’d been so wet. Laundry wasn’t a problem though. Being the hero of the village came with definite benefits. Instead of putting on my clothes, I shifted into my True Form, a thirty-foot-long dragon. Holding my pants, I soared away from the ruins of the guard tower.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what had just happened with the winged woman. I’d check my attic room in the former brothel slash bathhouse. If she wasn’t there, I knew there was a good chance we’d never see her again.

  Chapter Three

  SAILING OVER THE COUNTRYSIDE, I saw the shepherds doing their thing with the goats and sheep. Not the dirty thing. Just the watching thing, and sometimes the rounding up thing. That was all kinds of fun. Who doesn’t like to herd small animals? Chicks in New York are paying top dollar for that action—the non-dirty kind, just so we’re clear, although New York being New York, who the hell knows?

  Shepherding jokes aside, I was still reeling from my brief, intense encounter with my first non-humanish girl. Yes, Rhee wasn’t human, but cover up the ears and take her sex drive down a notch, and you’d get your basic almost immortal human. But with Dryx? She had wings and what might be a vastly different culture. And how her eyes glowed wasn’t normal.

  What was her deal? And why the no talking? It was obvious she could understand what we said. Lastly, there was her hatred of merfolk. That was pretty typical, though. No one much liked the merfolk. Rhee hated the fin lickers. Figg did too. I’d seen their arrogance and violence up close when we went after Vanka Jalana. The merfolk had sworn vengeance, though one of them, the princess Ibbithy Alyyb BuBano, hadn’t been so quick to condemn us.

  I could’ve killed her. I didn’t. I think that confused her. We’d killed her brother, Bloodbeard, and she hadn’t been all that upset. Fuck that guy. He’d deserved to be gutted like a Wyoming rainbow trout. I learned later that the merfolk families were set up like the Italian mafia, and there was a crapload of internal strife. There was all the backstabbing, but less pasta was involved.

  I had a lot to think about as I soared through the sky. More and more, instead of walking to think, I enjoyed flying: the wind across my scales, the different temperatures of the air, and the smell of the fields, which was a lot better than the smell of the water.

  I flew west to see the ruins next to the Yellowmud River, where we’d vanquished the antlered raiders. Then I followed the overgrown road that led to the city walls, which were newly built and reinforced, thanks to yours truly.

  The western gate was several inches of solid wood bound by iron. The gate opened and closed and everything. I’d have liked to take credit for our new entrance, but mostly I did the work on the walls using the Calcifax staff to do the stonework. Using the ancient artifact, I could create walls and do some manipulation of stone. I still had a lot to learn.

  Which reminded me. I checked the Five Magics Skill Tree.

  I’d unlocked the initial spell categories: Ksu and the Agni. The magic system of Xid was based on the four elements.

  Ksu was stone magic.

  Agni was fire magic.

  Uma was air magic.

  Vanka was water magic.

  Each of those branches had five categories: Trick, Armor, Attack, Enchant, and Conjure. Those were the English words. The Xiddian words were major tongue-twisters. I was still getting the hang of them. And I was still considering getting concentration ink for my left arm. Figg said it had been critical in her growth. Because my soul had been so altered when I’d been summoned, I’d lost my Dragonsoul abilities. I hoped to get them back.

  For a long time, I’d called the skill tree the Four Magics, but then I’d unlocked a fifth school of magic—that was my Anjagar Dayva. In the old language, called Sayskritch, that meant dragon angel.

  I hoped that if I could unlock those spells, I might be able to open a portal that would take me home. I wasn’t quite sure how it all worked yet. Figg had suggested I go to one of the universities on Caranja. From what I gathered, they were like Hogwarts but with a lot more sex and fewer evil lords.

  There had been a few evil lords kicking around the continent. The Pentakorr had once divided Xid between the five of them. The demon kings had a good marketing department. Some people thought their evilness and perverted experiments were good. Other people, like my one-armed elderly elf friend, had fought them with every bit of their strength.

  Figg had gone to Khambatta University on an island in the Praachi Archipelago, a series of islands out in the Uchina Sea. She had suggested I might go there. Rhee, though, had scoffed. W
e didn’t want to dick around with formal schooling, not when I needed to get home sooner rather than later. And in my short time in Foulwater, I’d created an enemy, Eggero Khel, another dragonish sort of thing, though he had the stink of demons on him. And it wasn’t your mother’s Chanel No. 5. He smelled like raw sewage, Clorox, and murder.

  I let go of the skill tree and did a quick tour of the marketplace. With the raiders gone, there were far more businesses open. Vendors sold everything from wool to fish to goat meat. Some sold fishing supplies. Another sold bilk in big urns with a cork stopper. One stall looked like a head shop back on Earth—rolling papers, hookahs, pipes, and the weed to smoke.

  On the other side of the market was Tiajati College, which was open again, though we didn’t have college students there, just some of the wealthier local kids, still learning their ABCs and 123s.

  I flew around the school, which brought kids to the windows. I wanted to give them a little fire-breathing but that was beyond me for now. My Exhalants—that was what we called them back home—might be a part of the Anjagar Dayva. I hoped to get them as I progressed down the skill trees.

  I flew to my attic room in the former bathhouse/brothel. I peeked through the window, but as I’d expected, the winged woman wasn’t there. The breeze pushed me away from the empty attic. Where had Dryx flown off to?

  Farther east was the bell tower of the Temple of the Seven Angels. That was where the town priest, or archaka, lived. Bragg Bharta was a guy who liked to eat and had the belly to prove it. He and his harem kept the temple clean and in working order. I wondered what Bragg would think about Uncle Dog running off with the money. Bragg did like cash as well as food. He’d taken some of the artifacts to sell so they could keep the temple running. One of his wives, Nina Heart, was a big woman with a bigger mouth who had definite ideas on how the town should run. She was not a fan of Uncle Dog or his wives. Now that the raiders weren’t threatening the town, Nina Heart was quick to point out where the rajani were wrong. Of course, Nina could do a much better job running the town.