Duke Franklin sat on an old wooden chair in the middle of the forest, where there had been no man before, bent over a battered acoustic guitar.
He’d been at court when people were invited to submit their candidates for preceptor. The blues musician had stepped forward, took a look at me, but ended up deciding not to pursue anything. He paid me no attention right now, focusing on the strings.
The song he played had a slow beat his foot was tapping out on a stomp box. You could barely see his fingers move on the strings, like it took no effort at all. It called to me, this sluggish song, and my feet moved with the same rhythm that his did.
I’d always wondered what the hell blues music was. Like for a genre that seemed to be used to communicate the pain of a people forced to endure a slow moving rape and attempted destruction by another culture, why this sound, why this kind of music? But when he looked up finally, when I stood before him and he cast an eye over me and then smiled, I think I saw it.
There was a tremendous power here. This was the slow build of a thunderstorm, the million drops of pain swelling its mass. At a distance, it seemed to be moving ponderously over the land, but really it was the result of a furious desire to survive, ready to rain down hell. He played with this kind of ease, this complete and utter confidence I’d never really seen before. There was no peacocking, no explosions, no frantic need for attention. This was the music of a man who’d been through fucking everything, who’d come up through shit that would have crushed most, and he stood on top, surveying what he’d conquered and smiled. Why else would the system work so hard to keep him down? I jumped when his fingers slammed down on the strings, and it seemed to please him.
“Well, look at you. All thrumming with power, yet everywhere held down in chains.” He shook his head and turned to his guitar, playing a little trill of notes before looking back at me from the side of his eye. “I thought you were going to be smarter than that.”
“Smarter than what? You play like a…god. Seriously, that’s amazing, but I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You think you’re just like us, but you’re not.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I said, but I took a step backwards when he put down the guitar and got to his feet in one smooth movement. I swallowed as that big, tall frame towered over me, reminding me of what exactly I was messing with.
But it was alluring too, wasn’t it? All that coiled power, that simmering strength. What would that feel like, a little voice in my mind asked, unleashed on you?
“Like a lot of people in my position, my power comes from truth, but I’m always surrounded by people who just don’t wanna fucking hear it. Let’s see if you’re any better.”
My heart crawled up through my chest and into my throat as I watched those big hands make an all too familiar shape. I’d traced it in the sand, on tabletops, in rings of condensation. A circle, bisected by several feathery lines. He nodded at me, then stepped back.
A ragged rip in the fabric of the forest emerged, and within it, I could see the court.
“So, things seem to be progressing satisfactorily. I didn’t think you’d be able to move that fast, but I guess when you’ve got a star struck little cunt on the hook, that’s what happens. I admit I thought your plan far fetched. The cost of paying to have her bloody photographs published bloody everywhere was prohibitive, but you’ve come through with the goods.”
Dave stood there with Rhiannon hanging off his arm. The two of them looked like the perfect couple, with his and hers matching sneers.
“What can I say?” Liam said with a shrug. “I told you to trust us with Kira. Billy got his claws into her early and opened up a whole lot of psychic holes for us to weasel on into. Once transition happened, it was kind of a done deal, with the exception of Marlow.”
“Yes, he has proved to be quite troublesome. I was willing to tolerate him for my daughter’s sake and give him a position to make him a suitable companion, but I think he’s come to the end of his usefulness.”
“Give him to me, my lord,” Rhiannon said. “For all of his meddling, he remains very skilled with his hands.”
“And what need have you for such hands?” Dave asked in a feline purr, and Rhiannon froze when his hand went to her jaw. “Your beauty is so radiant, you need no such enhancements.”
Her eyelashes fluttered at that, though I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or flattery.
“You’d be better off dumping him with us. She’s bonded with him now. If he’s the treat that keeps her sweet, I don’t mind. He can do all the softly, softly stuff I’ve got no fucking time for. The less she has to do with us, the better. Playing the loving consort or the domineering lord, and pushing her to do what she wanted to do all along is exhausting, frankly.”
“Until you refresh yourselves on all her lovely, lovely power.”
“Haven’t had a chance to dip my wick yet, have I? Figured I’d be the bad guy while Johnno bamboozles her with all his lovey dovey shit. This thing with Jake worked surprisingly well. He played the compliant little sub, letting her boss him around and play out all her repressed little fantasies. Not sure if getting a mouthful of Marlow’s cum was worth the trouble, but he’s a team player. He soldiered on. Samson’s been paid?”
“Richly. I’ll admit, I thought that you’d overplayed your hand there, but she came to court full of some of your quintet’s essence. Who’d have thought all that power could be made to come to heel over so little? Makes me wonder why I gave this task to you.”
“Because you tried your usual heavy-handed bullshit back at the estate with that dream and it didn’t fucking work. The bitch has got daddy issues, just not the kind that makes her want to fuck you.”
“But such that makes her want to fuck you. So your crew is on board with this? Who’s up next?”
When Dave looked over Liam’s shoulder, the view moved with it, showing Billy, Lucas, and Jake lounging behind him.
“That’d be me,” Billy said. “She’s starting to warm to me, thinking she sees past the beast to something else.” He laughed at that, and so did the other guys—that predatory sound men make when they’re tearing women apart. “She’s so fucking needy. Nobody loves her, nobody wanted her.” His laugh, his face was vicious. “There’s no real sport to be had, but I’m gonna drain her dry, and while that never-ending source of power starts to burble up to fill the void, I figure we pull a train and run through her. She’ll be so full of our cum by the time we arrive at the next venue, she won’t even remember her own name.” Billy’s eyes had bled completely black. “It’ll just be ‘yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir’ from then on. Johnno will keep filling her up, because he can’t stop being a soppy cunt, and the rest of us will just top her up when we need to. Fuck, we’ll just shove her in with the Concubines, get the lot of them partying with us on the regular again, then drag her out and bleed the power off her when needed.”
“And then bring her to me, as agreed.”
“Goes without saying, milord,” Liam said. “We swore in blood.”
“So you did. Be foresworn, and if I don’t get you, the bloody sentinels will. You five used the deep magics to create what you are, something they’ll never forgive. They’ll execute you and her, and I’ll use every one of my resources to help them.”