Woring for the Fae

Within 5 minutes, Lexter and I stood in the hotel lobby, both dressed in leather pants and biker jackets. Lexter had large army boots on vs. my black, metal high heels. Not exactly the first footwear that comes to mind for an assassination mission, but with the perfect balance my powers give me, the heels are just another weapon.

"The sun always shines on her reign," said a voice from behind us. Following protocol we remained facing away from the alien fae.

"And may it continue for centuries." It was the standard reply known by any active fae, a code to ensure we worked with only friends.

"Long live the bitch!" Lexter and I gasped, spinning around, and burst out laughing. Standing before us was Bytlock, a good friend to us both. "You should have seen your faces!" He laughed, bending over from the force of his merriment.

"Bytlock!" I ran to him, engulfing him in a hug. "You must be careful saying such things! You know She has spies everywhere." I held his face in my hand, holding his gaze so he could see just how serious I was.

"Tia is right, young one, She has no patience for such 'humour'." Lexter pulled Bytlock from my arms, ensuring (again) he understood how dangerous such things are to say.

"Gah! You two act like my parents! Are you sure you aren't harbouring any elflings?" This was a long standing joke between us. Most of his life, Bytlock had found parenting from both Lexter and I, always trying to keep him out of trouble. "Anyway, I brought the car and equipment... we better get going."

Following Bytlock, we left the hotel lobby, passing through the street with a ease (one benefit of travelling with hunks? Humans move out of the way to gawk as they pass). We all headed two blocks down, entering a large underground car park, a place no Were would enter. Even though they may enjoy city life, they cannot withstand being in a dark place underground: claustrophobia to the max. Bytlock led us up to a large, black Range Rover.

"Bytlock, you do realise a black Range Rover is about as suspicious as walking up to their gate, guns blazing." I smiled at the doubt that crossed his face. Even though he was 20 years older than me, I often thought of him as much younger due to his sweet innocence. "It's okay sweetie, we'll just have to walk the last bit." Still frowning, Bytlock opened the trunk, revealing a huge array of weapon. Reaching in, I picked out a hand crossbow; the arrows tipped in silver and designed to shatter in the body, a standard issue handgun for each hip, a silver whip and three silver daggers.

"Have you got enough?" Lexter asked, studying the condition of the weapons I had chosen. With a nod, I shut the trunk, following Lexter into the backseats. "I wish that damn barrier wasn't there, I want to kill some fucking dogs!"

"Lexter, keep you temper!" Buckling in, I watched his eyes flare in annoyance. "If all goes well, the barrier will be down soon anyway." I rested my hand on his leg, waiting until he met my gaze with clear eyes. Turning from him with a squeeze of his leg, I said "Bytlock, we're all set back here."

"Okay Tia." He started the car and began navigating the parking lot. "We have about a ten minute drive, traffic dependent." Two magical beings and one hybrid, and we still have the mundane problem of traffic. Typical.

..............

We pulled up to the curb 30 minutes later, a car with a calculating hunter, a sleeping ancient and a very terrified fae. With a deep breath I climbed from the car, leaving Bytlock still clinging to the wheel and Lexter snoring lightly, my mind completely focused on the job. Quickly, I checked that my weapons were still secure, the two blades fully tucked into the interior of my jacket. To hide the glinting silver I zipped my jacket up, looking furtively around (a completely unnecessary move as I hand hand guns on my hips and a crossbow on my belt). Regardless, I did it.

"We are close," Lexter muttered, climbing lightly from the car. "My instincts don't want me to stay here... this is strong magic indeed." A statement like that from an ancient would make most of us quiver, as it was, Bytlock squealed from the front seat. Turning towards them both, I nodded my head, making eye contact with each, before heading off down the street.

Even with my weaker fae blood I could sense the barrier, my blood boiling with every step. My nerves almost had me running for the hills when I came to a stop before an old warehouse. Above the door was a blinking neon sign with the words 'The Pack' emblazoned upon it. The door was red, the paint beginning to chip and peel off, collecting at the corners of the doorway. Crouching down, I peered through the mail slot in the door into a long dark hallway. Pulling a gun from my hip, I slowly reached for the door handle, willing the lock to open, directing my magic into my will. With a soft thud, the lock released. Allowing me to slowly turn the door handle, pushing the door open with barely a creak to be heard.

The hall before me was long, dark and very quite. The wallpaper was equally spread between wall and floor, damp patches clearly visible along the peeling surface. Stepping inside, my instincts jerked and then... nothing. I had crossed the witch's boundary, and something definitely was not right.

With a tremble of fear, I tried to reach for the magic I've always felt around me but it was gone. Stepping across that border had, what if... no... just because my magic was gone, surely not..? What if I am just human? My breath started to catch in my throat as I realised how vulnerable I may be, not having a clue as to what part of me was to be affected by the loss of magic. Trying to calm myself, resorting back to my training, I felt my heart and mind calm once again, settling, ready for the hunt.

Striding down the corridor, I listened for signs of life, praying I would meet the witches first. Each room I came across was cold and empty, dust lying in thick planes across every service. If this place was not used regularly, why were they protecting it? Within 10 minutes I had checked both upstairs and downstairs, all just a repetition of cold, dark and empty. I must be missing something, something must be here?! All I could hear was the quite hum of the boiler... wait! I could hear a boiler! I hadn't seen a boiler, so maybe there was a basement here?

Following my ears, I paced downstairs until I came to a stop before a desk. Glad that I still seemed to have heightened hearing and smell, I surveyed the room for any possible opening or trap door. A slight, imperceptible creak in the floorboards as I moved led me to a well-placed trap door in the back corner of the office. Bending down, I pulled the door open to reveal the first light I had seen in the building. I lowered my head through the opening, surveying the area below me after assuring that no breathing was disturbing the air below the trap door. The room was panelled with a cheap wood, a staircase of the same wood dropped away from the opening, lit by a small lantern, a candle flickering within. Holding my breath, I listened for any other sounds than the boiler and was met with only a slight murmur, suggesting that people were down here somewhere.

Moving quickly, so as not to remain vulnerable, I climbed down the stairs, wobbling from side to side. Sighing, I assessed my footwear. The heels had begun to make my feet ache and without my magic, they had begun to affect my balance as well. With a sigh, I slipped them from my feet; hiding them behind the staircase with full intention of getting them back later (they were beautiful shoes!). Careful not to make a noise, I slowly cracked the door on the opposite wall open.

Through the crack, I listened again, this time hearing muffled voices. Pulling the door open further, I could see another candle lit corridor filled with doors. With a last glance towards the trap door, I slipped into the corridor, ensuring the door closed behind my silently. Pausing, I listened again to the sound of voices filling the corridor. They were a mixture of male and female, the female voices were too high for a Wolf. The witches were here and it seemed they had a guard. Pulling the crossbow from my belt, I snuck down the corridor; my bare feet barely audibly on the polished wood floor, listening for any pause or change in the voices.

I finally came to rest before a partially cracked door, listening at the gap. The voices had died down into low moans from both genders in the room. Counting voices, I guessed there were two men and three women in the room. I stood there, listening to their moans, thanking my luck that they felt safe enough to drop their guard while behind the barrier. I assessed my weapons, loading a shot into my crossbow, before slowly pressing on the door.

The gap finally widened to a point at which I could see the occupants, partially concealed behind a bookcase. I stole into the room, concealing myself behind the large bookcase, pushed a gap between the books and surveyed the orgy before me. The two men were of standard Werewolf looks; tall, dark, muscular and handsome (yum). The women, however, were a shock. I had been right when I had heard three female voices, however I didn't count on one women having two heads. There were legends about two headed witches, but no Fae I had met put any faith into it. So, ironically, I was stood watching a mythical creature in complete shock.

Oblivious to my presence, the four figures continued in their joining, bodies writhing, as each man was pleasured by their partners. The witch with the blonde hair was being pulled backwards and forwards along her partner's length, her blonde locks spilling from his grasp. The other was sat on a chair, the witches two heads suckling at his cock, alternating between sucking and licking, sultry moans sending vibrations through his shaft. Both men groaned, watching the women worship their cocks, beginning to thrust into their mouths, getting closer and closer to their release. With a yelp, both men erupted over the faces of their partners.

I felt my clitoris begin to swell as I watched the men's deflated cocks begin to grow again after they had slid from their partner's mouths. I had heard about the Were's sexual ability, but never had I thought they could develop a 9 inch hard on within 2 seconds of a previous release. Oblivious to my heated gaze, both witches pushed their partners to the floor, climbing onto them, sliding their bodies along the men, moaning at the friction on their nipples. Facing each other, both women lowered their dripping centres onto the hard cocks, watching each other as they moaned and rode their cocks.

Trying to focus, I began to draw my crossbow, using the heightened sexual noises to hide the clicks of bolts falling into place. Trying to ignore the growing desire within me in response to seeing the Wolves ploughing their cocks into wet pussies, both groups moaning and groaning. Turning back to the mythical orgy, I focused my aim on the two headed witch. Regardless of how dangerous the wolfy lovers were going to be, the witches were my targets- the barrier must fall. From my knowledge of witches, the two headed bitch, currently moaning in ecstasy, was one dangerous cunt and probably the main spell leader.

Grasping my second bolt in my other palm, I held my crossbow strong and true, waiting for the opportune moment to take the bitches out. Watching the union of sweaty bodies, I couldn't prevent my nipples from hardening straining against my leather jacket in reaction to the squelch of wet pussy filling the room. Both men began to piston in and out of their bitches, forcing shrieks from their lungs, the primal wolf instinct forcing them to abandon any care for their partners. The breathing in the room had become a collective pant, the participants all racing towards their finish. As yells and shrieks filled the room, I braced myself, waiting, knowing my moment was coming.

As the two headed bitch threw her heads back to announce her orgasm, I let the bolt fly from my weapon, not pausing to watch it bury itself between her eyes. In a flash, my second bolt had planted itself within the skull of her other head, the occupants to wrapped up in there pleasure to immediately realise what was happening. Loading my third bolt, I felt some of my magic return, my reflexes faster than mere seconds before. Quick as a flash, my final bolt was sailing through the air, spearing the other witch in her lust-filled eye.

As both men began to quickly return to Earth, I tried to call to Lexter through the magic but I still couldn't access all my power: it wasn't coming back fast enough! Panic flooded me. Without magic these wolves would overpower me in seconds. Pulling the guns from my hips, I turned to face the two hulking bodies of muscle that had begun stalking towards my hiding place, rage distorting their faces. With a deep breath, I dived forward, firing at the two wolves, praying no others were in the house. My aim was true but my reflexes weren't yet fast enough, the wolves easily dodging the bullets. I know there was no point in running, so I began to try and predict their movements, managing to hit one of them in the leg.

I began to back towards the door, my bare feet searching the floor for the door frame, my eyes trained to the wolves stalking me. With a thud my foot hit wood, a sigh of relief escaping from me. Dropping my gun I reached for the door handle, twisting it open, my other hand still firing rounds at the approaching wolves. As it swung open, grins of malice grew on the faces of the two advancing wolves, both halting their approach with a growl.

Turning, trying to keep them in my line of vision, I glanced behind me, only to see a mountain of wolf muscle behind me, its fist swinging towards my face.