Mixed Blessings

This is the ninth, and final, chapter in a series. Although it can be read on it's own, parts of the story may make more sense when read in order. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Laslie flexed his arm and watched the armor move flawlessly over it. On the PIA agent, it had resembled a cloud of dark smoke that obscured her body and made attacking her difficult. For Laslie, it had transformed into reticulated armor. Each plate interlocked with a number of others perfectly so that it moved and flowed about him like a second skin. He knew he wore a helmet, as he felt it cling to his head and slightly obscure his peripheral vision, but he could not see it. When he had tried to remove it, it instantly returned to the smoky substance that was the armor's natural state.

He had always wondered about that; whether elemental armor changed its appearance to suit the personality of the bearer. Now, Laslie either had to conclude that it did, or he simply had greater control over the armor than the previous owner had. He thought the former more likely given that she had possessed the artifact for years, while he'd been wearing it for only a minute now.

"Las, please! Turn it off!" Talianna's voice was pained. Her hands clutched her temples, as she collapsed into a chair. Moments later, her delightfully revealing astral form disappeared entirely and she breathed a sigh of relief. Laslie hadn't known that she was equally well trained as a

shadow-walker

as she was a

world-walker

.

He looked down at the dark armor. It seemed to be made of an indeterminate metal; a very dark grey, with hints of either a very deep purple or blue. There should be no reason, that he could understand, she would complain about the armor. He began concentrating, in an attempt to draw forth the natural weaponry that was inherent in all elemental armor. Given the suit's appearance, he assumed it would be something akin to a gauntlet-sword. "Why should I? I need to test it out, Tal. The quicker I get a handle on its capabilities the better we'll both be."

"I can't look at you! The damn thing's giving me a migraine every time I try." Laslie looked up in confusion. Given that she, in fact, still watched him from the chair, he assumed that she meant she couldn't look at him with anything resembling

other

-sight. His confusion must have been clear, for Talianna continued to explain. "Every time I try, my eyes start to shift in order to keep track of you. It's like your body is vibrating and it's giving me a tension headache trying to keep up."

That certainly explained why she, not simply a born

world-walker

but the very best of them, had shut herself so completely away from the spirit realm. "I'll see if I can turn off the effect for you." He adjusted his concentration to the new task, but quickly realized he had no idea if or when it would work. "I can't see the effect, you'll need to come back in order to tell me when it's no longer active."

Once more the nearly naked form faded into view before Laslie. The handful of leaves that made up her arboreal armor shifted enticingly and offered tantalizing half-glimpses of her nipples and lust, while they left virtually all of the rest of her delectable flesh accessible. He knew his concentration had wavered at the sight but didn't care much. Only when her seeming began to fade once more did his concentration return. He quickly applied it to the task at hand. A moment later, her spirit body reappeared fully. "Thank you."

Laslie was careful not to look at her, lest the dampened effect required constant attention. "Tell me if the effect returns." He quickly shifted his attention back to the attempt to call for the weapon. After a few moments a sword slid halfway forward from the gauntlet. He could sense that was not the full length of the blade, but it was better than nothing, for the moment. More confident than he had been minutes before, he returned to look at Talianna.

Her deep purple eyes veritably devoured the sight of him. He noticed, with considerable amusement, that her eyes lingered just as long on his groin as his tended to on hers. He contemplated attempting to make the armor's codpiece vanish, but cast the thought aside. There would be plenty of time for such things later; once everything had been settled. Meanwhile he idly wondered about the abilities of her own elemental armor.

All elemental armor shared a few common abilities. Being armor, they could block, or at least blunt, virtually any attack to a person's spiritual form. Even the effects of Laslie's spirit blade would be lessened, at the very least. Additionally, they could be used to ensnare an opponent, as Talianna's vines had done to him in both combats. He knew the smoky substance of his own armor could do likewise. The final common ability was the integrated weapon.

Laslie watched the four vines writhe about her body. Likely their weapon was some form of whip, although it could be something related to the leaves themselves. He wondered what ability those provided that none of the other armors could. Obviously, she was very adept at mimicking his armor's distraction through her own, very natural, feminine charms. But it was all something to be contemplated later.

He walked over to the agent's body. Laslie kicked the corpse for good measure. He'd never used the small gun before. He'd seen them on TV of course, but never actually used one. It seemed so anticlimactic, so impersonal. His ploy had worked so well that she never saw her own death. It had been difficult to smoothly control both his astral form and his body, but he'd been confident in his capabilities.

"What do we do with her now?" Laslie glanced at Talianna for a moment. He turned off his other-sight in order to concentrate better. Her physical body wasn't much easier to look at. Although much more of her body was clothed, by the red satin dress, it clung so tightly to her that she might as well not have been wearing anything. In addition, the parts of her body that weren't hidden by fabric were still stained with the dried remains of nearly an hour's worth of his passion.

Laslie shrugged. "We can simply leave her body here. Eventually someone will find it, but as a gunshot wound the police won't think much of it, and the PIA won't look to us at the least. Everyone knows Sidhe don't use guns. Did you tell her your name when you contacted her?" Talianna shook her head. "Do you think she recognized you?"

Talianna had to consider that question for a moment. "I don't see how she could have from the phone call. It's possible that she did once we got here, but we didn't leave her any time to contact someone and tell them it was an ambush."

This was the PIA. It was possible they used either technology or human magic to leave some form of record. Laslie hadn't found anything that looked like a recording or tracking device. He had even been so thorough as to do a complete cavity search. "We should get out of here and get to the next step. I can't leave Alicia alone too long or she'll get suspicious."

Talianna nodded, and the two headed back to the jeep. He opened the trunk and pulled out a spare set of clothes. Jeans and a tattered t-shirt for himself and a skirt and shirt, both Alicia's, for Talianna. She stood there' holding the clothes, and glared at him. "What? It's all I have, and you know you're not going to want to wear that where we're going."

Talianna glanced at the dress. She nodded, although her entire manner said that she resented the necessity. "Wow, hold on!" Laslie lunged forward and grabbed her arms as she was about to pull the dress over her head, in order to change. He quickly pulled her back inside the abandoned house and shut the curtains. His heart raced. "The neighbors might not want to notice a gunshot, but a bombshell stripping in the driveway? All of the biddies will remember. And the men will remember every slight detail of

your

body, my dear."

Laslie hurriedly pulled off his dressy outfit and changed. He forced himself to ignore the raging hard-on that Talianna always courted. It was much harder to ignore her, as she slithered out of the red dress. As she stood there naked, she swayed slightly, and contemplated the outfit he had given her. Even the unconscious movement of her hips seemed designed to enervate his lust. Finally she pulled on the skirt and struggled into the top.

On Alicia, the pleated skirt reached her knees, and the shirt was slightly loose. Talianna wore both quite differently. The Sidhe woman was nearly a foot taller than the Dhase. The skirt crept down her thighs, but threatened to reveal her lack of underwear with the slightest unexpected motion. Meanwhile, the shirt clung so tightly that Laslie wondered how she could breath;

if

she could breath. It was so tight that it did not, in fact, flatter her ample chest. While it certainly created cleavage for the low neckline, it crushed it into place and gave the impression of one long breast. He did, however, approve of the way the thin material not only presented her nipples, but even outlined her dark areola.

Laslie shook himself free of the fantasies that flashed through his head. He still had a few abuses she would appreciate learning, but otherwise he needed Alicia to experiment on. Soon his plan would be complete, and he could travel between the two worlds with ease. All it required was to ignore his lust for another few hours. He had more than enough patience for that.

The two quickly got back into the jeep. Once more Talianna tensed while she rode in the metal monstrosity. He could tell that the buzz, from almost a bottle and a half of whiskey, was wearing off as her tension grew. Or, perhaps, it was the proximity to their destination. The benefit was that she would be free of the accursed vehicle from that point on. The downside would be their reception, and her fate, should he lose the battle. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alicia probably should have been upset that Laslie had given some of her clothes to Talianna. Somehow, it simply didn't seem important. Nothing was truly important. Something had snapped within Laslie, and it had broken her as well. He was no longer the fun and compassionate person she had met an eternity of months before. She had thrown herself into loving that man, despite the differences and even her own history.

Most Dhase began to loose sight of life slowly. They began to forget about the little joys such as eating or simply being outdoors. Then it would move on to the larger things. They forgot what it truly felt like to love someone, or even hate someone. That was when the passion truly began to die. Finally they forgot why they bothered to put forth the effort even to feed. That was when they began to deplete their own reserves, as they slowly starved to death.

Alicia had known a few to whom a traumatic experience caused nearly instant apathy. Like the rest of her kind, she never expected it to happen to her. The irony was that she still remembered, fresh, the joys of everything, little and big alike. Unfortunately she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Somehow, she had built the dream of her and Laslie, living for centuries by each other's sides, and that had become the foundation for her happiness.

Perhaps she should even be angry with him for his betrayal. Somehow, that didn't seem to make much sense. There was some logic to it. It would have prolonged her life as she derived meaning through her rage and pain. However it would not bring anything constructive. She could never bring herself to kill him or Talianna, and it seemed as if neither were in the least concerned with her. Even if she could bring herself to hurt them, somehow, it would teach them nothing.

Why did she continue to follow them? She could think of nothing better to do. She couldn't even collect her things from the motel room without the key that Laslie had.

And,

she admitted to herself,

I'm curious.

Curiosity seemed to be the only emotion truly ingrained into a person's psyche. Unfortunately it did nothing, really, to motivate one towards life. To the contrary, it often led one down the path to destruction.

Alicia didn't know where she was, or where the two were going. Currently she ran in the middle of the woods. Given the distance they had traveled from the motel, she assumed they were still somewhere in Pennsylvania. She kept roughly abreast of the car and deep in the woods, in order to avoid detection. She had driven for years and knew the perfect way to exploit the jeep's blind spots. She simply had to make sure to stick to the driver's side, in order to lessen the chances that Talianna's lost gaze would catch her.

This time, she was far more careful. She could still extend her empathy far about her. Most elders had forgotten how by the time true apathy set in. She could sense all of the Sidhe guards that were posted about the Stronghome. Likely, some of them thought they were invisible, but every focused concentration blazed a beacon to Alicia. She dodged them with the ease that had been trained into her as a mortal. This was her environment, and no amount of city living had worn it from her.

A few of the guards tried to stop the jeep, but Laslie just flipped them off and continued to drive through. One or two had rifles, but the reaction surprised them so much that they never thought to use them. Alicia couldn't blame them. She knew how completely unpredictable Laslie could be. The Sidhe were almost as wedded to their tradition and expectations as the Dhase, for many of the same reasons.

Alicia stopped, just outside of the Stronghome, to watch. She could not believe the decrepit state in which the Sidhe lived. Laslie had told her that they eschewed human technology, but these appeared to have ever given up such basic utilities as soap and plumbing. The few which looked remotely clean must have used the nearby stream she had leapt.

The only modern technology seen were a handful of the weapons carried. Aside from the most obvious, machine guns and heavy pistols, some of the swords had a machined quality to them. The only power she felt radiated from the people, themselves, and from the handful of artifacts that Laslie and Talianna wore.

"Barsten!" Laslie had shouted loud enough, this time, that Alicia could hear it beyond the bounds of the collection of ramshackle tents. She crept closer in order to catch the subtle nuances that she would miss with her enhanced senses. From closer, she could also use those senses to read the subtle clues that Laslie's body betrayed. She could no longer read him, but, this close, she could read his body.

Alicia would have known who Barsten was even if Laslie's concentration hadn't immediately snapped to him. He stepped from the only well maintained building with a confidence that none of the others shared. While the others were nervous of Laslie, this man knew nothing the young Sidhe could do would affect him. He radiated supreme confidence.

More than that marked him as the leader. Where others wore various styles, only he dressed in a suit, one that suited his overly large frame. He was impeccably dressed in light grey pants and jacket and a pink shirt so light that it was almost off-white. The black, leather, tie seemed almost out of place. Perhaps a concession to the leather and denim that surrounded him. The only concession to the environment were dark the hiking boots.

He looked at Laslie with disdain. Alicia understood that. Although she could no longer sense his power, she could sense that this Barsten was, perhaps, the most powerful Sidhe she had met in a very long time. Were it not for Talianna's vanity, Alicia would have thought this man was the infamous 'Hunter.' However she could not imagine the Sidhe woman ever lived in conditions such as these. "What do

you

want?"

Laslie's smug look never faltered. Talianna stood nervously behind him, unnoticed by all, except for Barsten, as evident by the flare of hungry lust directed straight at the lithe Sidhe. Apparently Laslie understood the reaction as well. "She's under my protection, and I'm here to challenge you." Talianna relaxed slightly with the pronouncement, but she still seemed uncertain of the outcome.

Amusement and amazement filled the clearing. Who was this pup to challenge the mighty Barsten? "You can't." Laslie's smug look faltered for a moment as he considered the statement. "That's Hunter's Blowjob. That means you're Seleigh. You can't challenge me. Hell, you can't so much as touch me unless he chooses you as prey next time. And given how far away we spotted you coming, I doubt you're trained for it."

When Barsten brought attention to the woman lust flared from every corner of the clearing. It wasn't the dull lust of simple fantasy, but the heat of true possibility. These were intruders, and the only thing that protected them from the desire that pulsed about the glade, was the unknown factor of Laslie. He had claimed the role of protector, which meant they would have to challenge him to take her. Alicia knew Talianna could defend herself from many who desired her. Unfortunately she had finite energy, and the smart ones would let her tire herself as she faced battle after battle, only to take her when she was exhausted.

"We have left the Seleigh court." The simple statement had barely been loud enough to reach the first row of onlookers. But the stunned silence spread almost instantly as those behind reacted to the expressions of those in front. Alicia was just as confused as the rest. He had shown no signs of this decision, unless his general personality was the clue.

Barsten recovered the most quickly. He took off his jacket and meticulously folded it. A young Sidhe girl, one of the few almost as clean as Barsten, scurried over to take the burden. "In that case, I stand corrected. Seeing as she's not trussed up, Talianna is no longer Hunter's Voice." The last statement was made loud enough for many of the patrol guards to have heard it. The lust only increased as they realized that, after Barsten wiped out the punk and broke her, she would be fair game. Talianna only seemed to notice his use of the proper title for her former position.

The tie went next, draped loosely around the girl's neck. Alicia hoped it was his daughter, or possibly kid sister, for she looked far too young for anything else. Although, given the discrepancy between apparent and actual age of the Sidhe, the girl would have been in her majority anywhere in the country. As his shirt came off, button by button, Alicia had to block out the look and emotions that radiated from the young Sidhe. Her eyes simply could not sanctify the apparent age. Finally the shirt was buttoned and folded, placed on the jacket, and the tie was folded and left on the top of the pile. With a final, lingering, glance the girl ran off.

Alicia got her first good look at Barsten as he turned to watch the girl go. The man seemed to be the epitome of masculinity. Not only did he care about his appearance, he cared about capability. Where some men worked out until numerous muscles were hampered by others, all too highly built, Barsten maintained everything in equality. Just as clearly, he made sure to appreciate his balance and dexterity as much as his strength and endurance.

His short, red, hair was well styled, and complimented the business suit he had worn only moments before. But most striking were his green eyes. Where Laslie's eyes were an olive green, his were a bright emerald. But more than that, it was the intensity of the love that followed the girl's progress that startled Alicia. Like most that dealt with the Seleigh, she was prejudiced and thought of the Unseleigh as nothing but monsters. She finally opened up her empathy once more and was nearly flooded by the purity of the emotion. Sure, there was some of the anticipated lust, to flavor the mix, but he probably didn't even notice it beneath the overwhelming power of the other.