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Author's note
Part Five takes immediately after Part Four. It is not necessary for you to have read Parts One, Two, and Three, but if you have not read Part Four, you will find the story difficult to follow.
I won't be including notes to introduce each scene as I did in Part Four. A few readers found them distracting. It should be clear to you whose POV a given scene is written from and where it takes place.
As ever, if you have questions feel free to email me or leave a comment. Either way, I'll try to respond in a timely manner.
This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, many chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.
All sexual acts are consensual and involve parties who are at least eighteen years of age.
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"So what do we do?" Nick asked.
Veronica studied her brother's face. The way he was looking at her, as if he expected her to solve all their problems, made it hard to hear out the rest of what he had to say. All she really wanted to do was hug him instead.
Sometimes, it seemed that Nick pretended not to have any ideas of his own, just so that he could get her to tell him hers, and to let her know how much he respected her opinion. Transparent as that was, it was still incredibly endearing.
But this was not one of those times. He really was asking her to figure things out for them. And the rare display of childlike innocence from the older brother she'd spent her whole life trying to impress made Veronica's insides melt. She forced herself to look away, to focus her attention on fluffing up her pillow, lest she suffer a cuteness overload.
"Eric's busy planning something stupid as we speak," he said. "And you know it would be pointless to try to talk sense into him."
"Actually," she said, "that's pretty much exactly what I was thinking you need to do."
"Me?" he asked, with a huff that was very close to being a chuckle.
"Yup."
He shook his head. "You're something else."
"Obviously, you won't be able to convince him to hold off," Veronica continued. "But maybe we can talk him out of an all-out assault."
"Maaaaybe," Nick said, frowning. "But this
is
Eric we're talking about."
Veronica sighed.
Their brother probably
was
psyching himself up for a direct attack on the throne at that very moment. It wasn't that she doubted that. But they couldn't just give up that easily. From the sound of it, they wouldn't stand a chance against the combined might of House Bravo and House Fisher. And no matter how sympathetic their father might be to their position, which probably wasn't all
that
sympathetic anyway, he'd have no choice but to make war if the king demanded it.
They needed leverage. Their only hope was to take a few hostages of their own and propose an exchange. Anything else would just result in a bloodbath.
Somehow, Eric needed to be convinced of that. And he wouldn't listen to Veronica. But he just might listen to Nick.
With a flick of her wrist, she changed out of her sun dress and into a baggy T-shirt and loose pair of silk pajamas. Not exactly the kind of outfit that was best suited to seducing her brother. But she was, for once, not in the mood for that. Too tired, for one thing.
And too preoccupied with thoughts about their father.
The trip back to the Playground had taken no time at all. Apparently the yacht hadn't been necessary. It was just less disorienting. And gave the kids a chance to prepare themselves mentally for what they were about to undergo.
Not that it
had
prepared them. Not for the induction ceremony, and not for the fateful visit from their father. That last part had been one of the most exhausting experiences of her life, even though she'd done nothing but stand there and squeeze Nick's hand the whole time. Simply processing all the emotions her father brought out had been trying enough.
Why couldn't she just hate their father, the way Nick apparently did? Why did all those childhood fantasies have to come back to her all of a sudden?
As she slipped under the covers, Veronica said, "If we tell him it would be stupid and reckless to go for blood, he'll go for blood. If we tell him that it would be going soft on the king to kill his children, that mourning their loss would be easier than constantly worrying about whether he'll ever see his loved ones again, then maybe he'll focus on taking hostages."
Nick remained silent for a few moments. "And if that doesn't work?"
"We'll deal with that when we come to it," she said.
Her brother stared at her, brow furrowed. But, in the end, he offered no objections.
Nice and tame. Like a good, housebroken puppy. If he was as much like their father as Hank had said that he was, he wouldn't have given in so easily.
Without asking her permission, her pussy started quivering.
Damnit.
She wanted her father to disgust her. The way he
should
have. But she couldn't help herself. There was just something about her father that had made Veronica swoon, even as she cursed him for being a selfish, cold-hearted bastard.
He was just so calm. So perfectly in control. Was there anything as sexy as a man in control? She couldn't be blamed for responding to that. Or for suddenly noticing how pliable Nick was. Men like that just exuded sex appeal, no matter what they looked like.
And those
eyes
.
Those gorgeous, green eyes. They veritably sparkled with intelligence.
Only, no, they didn't. Because eyes didn't sparkle with intelligence, except in cheesy novels where they not only did that but somehow managed to express all sorts of emotions besides. In real life, eyes didn't do a whole lot besides blink, dilate, and, of course, see.
It might not have been his fuck-me-breathless emerald orbs that told her so, but Veronica knew that her father was every bit as smart as the man of her dreams would have to be. Smart enough to not just keep up with her, but challenge her. As smart as she told herself that Nick was, though in the back of her mind, she had her doubts.
Her father was shorter than she liked her guys. And he was a bit thin too. Not as bad as Kurt, or anything. And what muscles he had were sculpted from stone. But he wasn't even as built as Nick, and her brother struck Veronica as a little small himself. On top of that, her father's face was well past lean and creeping up on gaunt. There were deep grooves in his hard skin, which was only lightly tanned. To say nothing of the scars.
He didn't at all have the kind of face she'd pictured all those times, while fingering herself and whispering "Daddy." That man had a hint of maturity, enough to remind her that she was with no mere boy but a real man. But he still had smooth skin and dark hair.
Exhaling heavily, Veronica rolled onto her side and made like she was getting ready for sleep. If Nick touched her, she just might melt. But it wouldn't be his face she'd be seeing. And what if he noticed that? He was, after all, damn good at reading Libidos.
"Tired?" Nick asked, slipping under the covers beside her.
She moaned incoherently in response.
Nick chuckled and kissed her shoulder.
His touch set her skin aflame. She was
aching
for it. It wouldn't be her brother inside her, but it would still feel good. She simply needed a hard dick inside her. Who's ever it might be. Strong hands grabbing her. Lips pressed against hers.
What would it be like to fuck a dragon?
No. She couldn't think that way.
She actually
was
tired anyway.
"It'll all work out," Nick whispered softly, running a hand up and down her side.
Thankfully, his hand didn't venture anywhere but her hips and her waist. Nor did his lips graced anything but her shoulders with their presence. All nice and safe.
Nothing a brother should do with his sister, of course. But they were long past the point where that mattered to either of them. More importantly, it wasn't anything that would make it impossible for her to resist him.
She found it even easier to tune out his words, utter nonsense that they were.
How could he possibly be so confident about that?
Slowly, Veronica drifted off to sleep, hoping to dream of her brother, yet afraid that it would be her father her awaited her on the other side. Whether he'd be playing the role of villain or love interest, though, she wasn't yet sure.
#
When they got back to what everyone had taken to calling the Playground, Eric couldn't help but notice that their house seemed a lot smaller. And a lot less like home. It was merely the place he'd grown up now. Nothing more.
They'd spent all of one night in Summer, yet that had been enough. It had changed everything. Torn his family apart. Given him a sense of purpose. And opened his eyes to how insignificant his life up until that point had been. All his problems, as well as his achievements, seemed pathetically small now.
Summer was where he belonged. And it was where this would all get resolved.
To hell with small ball. He wasn't going to nip at House Bravo's ankles. No, he was going to go for the windpipe. And that meant going back to the Homelands.
The others would try to talk him out of it, obviously. And call their cowardice "reason." That's what cowards always did. They talked "sense." Curiously, though, "sense" often sounded a helluva lot like doing what was best for protecting their own hides.
Well, they wouldn't
all
line up against him. Especially Gabby. She, at least, would back his play, no matter what.
Nick might too, if not for Veronica. Eric would bet anything that, at that very moment, Veronica was busy telling Nick that he had to try to "talk sense" into Eric. And the poor sap, who was usually worth at least half a damn, would do exactly as she said.
Fucking pathetic.
"Hey there, cutie," Annie said, walking into the kitchen.
He looked his sister up and down. She wore a pair of pink fuzzy socks, the tiniest pair of pink panties, and a white tank top that was
way
too small for a girl with such large breasts.
"Nice socks," he said.
Why did girls think fuzzy socks were so cute?
"Thanks," she said as she jumped up onto the kitchen counter.
She sat there, sitting on her hands and swinging her legs back and forth, like a little kid. One look at her body, though, confirmed that she was plenty grown up.
Ever since discovering that their powers gave them some limited control over their appearance, Annie had taken to rocking a new look every time he saw her. Sometimes her tongue was pierced. Sometimes it was not. There was occasionally a little diamond stud on one side of her nose. The ratio of brown to blonde in her hair was never quite the same.
Just now, though, she had no piercings, and her hair, worn in pigtails, was its natural color. He preferred her usual look, but he couldn't deny that her innocent little girl act was having an effect on him. Annie usually tried so hard to convince everyone that she wasn't a child anymore, that she was a bad girl without an innocent bone in her body.
"Where are our moms?" she asked casually.
