Crazy Seduction(erotica)

Marisa surged up from her pillow with a startled gasp. For a few seconds, her room flickered with multiple overlapping potentials, but all were very similar, so there was nothing in them to cause her to gasp for breath as she was.

She closed her eyes and ran through her breathing exercises which calmed her and allowed her to force her abilities back into their dormant state, a subtle, mostly translucent background overlay, which was where she preferred to keep them.

Marisa frowned as this was the first time her seer sight activated while sleeping. She tried to recall what she’d been dreaming before she jolted awake, but the memories were like mist and disappeared as quickly as she looked for them. All she was left with was an odd sensation of… elation? Almost a tingle of anticipation… but for what?

She glanced at the clock and saw she had hours before her alarm would wake her. With a sigh, she relaxed back against her pillow.

Her mother’s words popped uninvited into her head. “It’s love.”

Such a simple sentence to have such a profound effect on her life.

She remembered her time with Nate. She was very fond of him and missed him terribly. She wished he could have met Natalia. What he’d gone through at the hands of Mab must have been intensely traumatizing for him to behave as he did. Still, his final act showed the true strength of his character as he sacrificed himself for Henry. She would share her stories with Natalia when she was old enough to understand.

Marisa discovered something inside herself since her mother uttered those words.

She wanted love.

The idea of losing it still terrified her, and remembering her mother’s melancholy after her father passed was always in the back of her mind. But she was coming to realize it was like she was living without seeing the true colors of life. This filtering would continue until she could get past her fear and completely open herself to the possibility of love.

Her mind immediately went to Henry as she had a strong emotional bond with him, but… she’d witnessed the potentials surrounding his life, and Baba Yaga had given her advance notice.

“Be kind to my boy… Life won’t be.”

Baba’s words continued to echo in her head and haunt her.

Marisa witnessed its cruelty and did her utmost to never look at his potentials again. The briefest glimpses she’d had in recent days were difficult to ignore.

So, while her heart pulled her in one direction, her fear pushed in the other.

She pulled the covers over her head. She wasn’t going to resolve this dilemma now but getting back to sleep seemed an equally difficult task.

Her mind returned to the elation as that was something positive to occupy her mind.

If only she could remember.

-=-

Majestic, towering clouds floated across the pale blue sky, their tops an almost blinding white while their bottoms were dark grey with the threat of imminent rain. Unlike the mysterious living clouds, which caused so much mischief they earned time on news channels, these were just normal clouds that moved where the winds directed them. Today they were crossing above Scotland’s Shetland Islands in a steady and awe-inspiring progression.

For three of the four beings settled into plush leather chairs before the large picture window overlooking the bay, this grand parade might as well have been invisible. They were all lost in their thoughts, recalling the days when they were important, forces to be reckoned with, and best of all, respected.

In the first chair sat Fenris Hoek, cousin to Lise-Anne Hoek, the former Hidden Races Security Minister who died performing her duties on Skyfall. That’s all he’d been told by her former superiors.

As Fenris was a Pixie and he’d lost his glamor with so many others, he was presently cross-legged on the chair in his five-foot form. The tallest he could manage without a glamor. His youthful appearance hid the fact of his advanced age, but that was the way of Pixies.

He hadn’t cared much for his cousin as she’d stolen the position of Security Minister from him. He’d had grand ambitions to use that position to ensure Pixies were first and foremost amongst the wielders, not the Fae. Lise-Anne proved to be more vicious and cunning than him and put him out of commission during the elections. He hated her for that, but she was family, and vengeance for her death would be his.

Then he would take the position of Security Minister from Roy Duncan, who wasn’t even a wielder!

Next to Fenris was Gren von Deussel, the older brother of Rand von Deussel, Investigator for the Hidden Races Council. He shared the same red coloring of hair and beard as his little brother, but his had begun to turn grey, and his body was more heavily muscled since he was a weaponsmith by trade.

Gren knew Rand died in battle on Skyfall, as he knew Rand had been using Zult and Zort, twin battle axes containing the souls of their ancestors. When the weapons were destroyed, had there been any other living von Deussel males, they would have felt the terrible ripping sensation followed by a great emptiness as Gren had. The blood bond, or curse of the von Deussels, had been broken. There was no way Rand would have allowed that, so he must be dead, though there was no body to perform the passage rituals on.

No one from the Hidden Races Council would give any details about Rand’s final mission or who fought and murdered his little brother. The only other member who might know, Lise-Anne Hoek, was also dead.

The loss of these precious weapons was too much for Gren to bear. They should have been his to carry into battle, but he lost his left thumb in a stupid bar wager in his youth, preventing him from accepting the honor when their father died and joined the other souls in the blades. That bitter failure ran deep as he still recalled the disappointment in his father’s eyes.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

In the third chair was the host for this meeting, Harkland LoKennishen, a long-standing member of Queen Mab’s court and an advisor of sorts. He’d been a young and eager court attendant when Mab took control of the Fae, and he’d supported her over the millennia. Tall, fair-haired, and slim, he’d mastered the art of blending into the background while keeping his eyes and ears open for bits of gossip and information that found their way to Mab through him. Harkland was an unofficial intelligence service for Mab, and as such, he found himself completely isolated from the Fae community when Mab was ousted. Memories of his informant activities went back generations and meant none of the other Fae families wanted anything to do with him now.

Harkland was surprised at how lonely this new isolation made him. While Mab was in charge, no one could refuse his participation in any function he chose to include himself in. He was a very social person and enjoyed his lofty position in Mab’s court, even though it was unofficial. He never took advantage of his Queen’s favor, understanding all too well her fickle whims. While attractive, he did his best not to present himself as a suitor and remained on the edges of her perception.

Now he had nothing, and that was Henry Gable’s fault. He’d seen the video of Henry killing Mab, and while he understood Mab’s chaotic nature had finally reached the point where even he wasn’t safe, he resented the Satyr as a symbol of change.

Nothing was the same since Skyfall. The Hidden Races were no longer hidden, but instead of being hunted down by the Humans, a strange acceptance had settled over the world, caused by magic songs that eased the mind and opened one’s heart. Personally, they made him shudder in revulsion!

Then he discovered these Humans were transforming into the Hidden Races! This disturbed Harkland most of all!

Humans who became Fae were an abomination, but worse, he’d been informed that they had access to magic stronger than true Fae! Not that they understood magic or had any knowledge of how to use it. It still sickened him.

He hated this feeling of being insignificant and powerless. Something needed to be done.

Harkland looked to the occupant of the fourth and final chair. This man said he had answers to their common troubles and promised they could achieve their dreams with his assistance.

The man wore a finely tailored midnight black suit with an equally dark dress shirt and slim silk tie. This emphasized his muscular build. He wore his black hair shaved on the sides and swept back over the top. Pale blue eyes watched them with a slight smile on his thin lips. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but his sharp features and the intensity of his eyes gave the impression of raw power barely contained.

“Thank you for inviting me to speak with you,” he began. His voice was deep and trembled with hidden power. This made his audience of three sit a little straighter in their chairs and focus more closely on him. “You may call me M. The world is changing rapidly, and if you don’t stake your claim on this new future, you will be swept aside and forgotten.”

The three frowned as they didn’t enjoy being reminded of their powerless states.

“It wasn’t your fault that circumstances brought you to your current positions, but you must act if you are to salvage anything,” the pale man continued.

“And exactly what role will you play in assisting us to achieve our claim on this new future?” Gren asked stiffly.

M smiled at them, and they felt the impact as his eyes locked onto theirs and then moved on.

“Focus. Most will waste what little energy they have on the wrong target. They’ll flail ineffectively at nothing. You must strike hard and fast, but more importantly, accurately. Do you take out the highly inefficient Hidden Races Council for their failure to take the required steps to maintain the integrity of your way of life? Waste!” he barked the last word sharply, and the three males jumped slightly as they’d been about to agree.

“The Hidden Race Council is a dying vestige of the old world. Just let it die and focus on the source of the change!” M looked into the Fae’s eyes, and the answer flashed into his mind.

“Henry Gable!” Harkland gasped, and M gave him a little nod in approval.

“Who?” Gren grunted with a scowl.

M focused his attention on the Dwarf and the Pixie. “At the critical moment of social transition, there is a collision of forces: the established order and the new direction. At the leading edge of this collision, you will find individuals whose actions play the largest role in the outcome. If the ones guiding the existing power structure are strong and sufficiently decisive, they will prevail, and the upstart will be crushed by their will. However, if the challengers guiding the effort to change have sufficient force and momentum, they will drive over the resistance and prevail. We are currently in the transitional period after the collision, and the new direction has prevailed. Now is the only opportunity you’ll have to strike against the individuals who are establishing their place as leaders for this new age.”