Homelands Pt. 05 Ch. 03

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One group fails, another continues preparations.
18.4k words
4.21
14.8k
5

Part 43 of the 79 part series

Updated 10/27/2022
Created 07/30/2011
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jdnunyer
jdnunyer
603 Followers

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Author's note

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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Their disguises and false credentials had been less convincing than they'd hoped. But, nonetheless, getting past the entrance had still been easy.

With a few flicks of her fingers, Veronica had disarmed the guards. Their guns simply slipped out of their hands and went flying across the fenced-in parking lot. Meanwhile, her brother slipped past the guards and into the booth, resumed physical form, and fumbled about for a bit before figuring out how to raise the gate for her.

Even once they'd made their way into the building and found another wave of guards awaiting them, things went more or less according to plan.

Her brother had avoided most of the gunfire by hopping around in shadow form. A few times, Veronica noticed him turning their bullets into dust before they could cover the short distance between him and the barrels of the guns. For her part, Veronica disarmed a few guards before they managed to get a shot off, and generally had little trouble stop the paths of whatever bullets her adversaries succeeded in firing at her.

She did suffer one gunshot wound, but it hadn't taken Nick but a moment to figure out how to use his powers to heal her. Nor, he claimed, had it taken much energy. She feared that might have been because the bullet had only grazed her, but either way, this was all proving much easier than either of them had feared.

"I could have done that," she said, looking down at both him and the gash in her leather pants, a faint smile on her lips.

Yes, leather pants.

Once they realized that blending in wasn't going to work, they'd gone all Neo and Trinity after all. And Veronica didn't care how cheesy that was.

"I know," he said, kissing the little patch of exposed flesh.

Veronica ruffled his hair. She should have been pumped up on adrenaline. Or thinking about whether it was worth chancing the elevators or if they'd be better off taking the stairs. But all she could think about was how adorable her brother was.

When they reached the main lobby, though, everything changed.

It didn't play out anything like the famous lobby scene from the movie, however similar the tiled floor and marble columns made the setting look.

The mortal guards proved little enough of an obstacle, sure. As before, she and her brother did their best to neutralize the threats without hurting anyone. Of course, for all Veronica knew, they were complete assholes. Misogynistic jerks, controlling fathers, and abusive husbands. But they could just as easily have been decent folk. Best to avoid harming them, if possible. And, so far, it had proved easy enough to do so.

Until the Bravos showed up.

She knew who they were the moment they stepped out of the elevator. She knew it by the way they carried themselves. No one else would have waded into a combat zone so calmly, or watch so disinterestedly as the security team emptied clips of ammo at two leather-clad intruders without ever connecting. She also knew it by the way they looked. They had bronze skin and brown hair. Neither was very tall. And they had their father's facial features, though each was a bit more handsome than the king.

Even without the dark shades, earpieces, and stiff movements, they looked like Agents.

If only they actually had been. They might have been easier to deal with.

One immediately transformed into some nightmarish beast that was part man and part lion. Like the CGI beasts in werewolf movies, only bigger, badder, and with an awesome gold-brown mane. His gaping maw was large enough to swallow a man's head hole and his massive paws looked fit for use against tanks, particularly since his claws looked sharp enough and strong enough to cut through steel.

The other carried a pair of swords that he handled so skillfully that Veronica would never be able to watch another martial arts movie again. They spun about him in a silver blur, filling the oversized lobby with echoes of the soft whisk of their passage.

Veronica's knives and axes sank right into the thick hide of the first Bravo. If Liono even noticed the rivers of blood pouring out of the wounds she opened up, he didn't let it show. He just kept bounding around the room, chasing after Nick's shadow.

The other one deflected her knives and axes as easily as a professional baseball player might connect with slow balls tossed at him by a high school softball pitcher. His blades moved faster than she could comprehend, and they never missed their mark.

Not. One. Damn. Time.

Veronica was just starting to panic when one of Nick's shadow scythes sliced an arm off the lion-thing. Unlike the dozen or so knives and axes that she'd sunk into him, that, he noticed. He drew up to his full height, stared down at the stump and the blood pumping out of it, and roared in anger.

Nick approached him in bodily form. Her brother had his hands outstretched, and if she wasn't mistaken, he was about to try to heal him!

What the hell was he thinking?

Yes, they needed to take them alive. But they'd have a much easier time of that if they subdued them first. Did Nick think he could just pluck the proverbial thorn from the lion's paw and tame the beast?

Before she could say anything, though, the other Bravo slipped up behind Nick and cut his legs out from under him.

Literally.

It took Veronica a moment to realize it had happened. Her brother's legs were still planted firmly on the ground, gushing blood, when the rest of him fell flat on his back. Nick was apparently too stunned to scream. He just stared at the empty space where his legs should have been, face contorted into a hideous rictus.

Veronica tossed all her remaining weapons at the man who'd crippled her brother. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see them coming and rolled to the side. But a few connected, sinking deep into his left thigh and calf.

Then, to her surprise, the Bravo boys chose to retreat.

The swordsman clambered back to his feet, scurried over to his brother, and dragged him into the elevator. He stared venomously at Veronica as the silvery doors closed.

A small army of men in riot gear poured into the lobby, assault rifles at the ready.

She wanted to scream in rage. It was all happening so fast. They'd failed to take any Bravos hostage. Her brother was bleeding out, his face turning paler and paler. She was out of weapons. And they were surrounded.

She didn't need steel to get the job done though.

Before the stunned guards could react, Veronica pulled the ceiling down. The second floor collapsed, caving in on them.

The slab of concrete that fell on her nearly knocked Veronica out, even though she'd wrapped herself in a protective bubble and numbed her tactile senses. It wasn't so easy to climb out from under afterwards, either.

But, with some help from her newfound talent for telekinesis, she did just that. And then set about sorting through the piles of rubble, looking for her brother.

Pained moans broke through here and there, but none of them sounded like Nick. She wasn't sure how the guards had survived that, and wondered if she maybe owed it to them to put them out of their misery, but she kept on searching. Nick was all that mattered.

Finally, she caught her brother's voice.

The wreckage came away slowly. Too slowly. A sense of panic built up within her. She'd wasted too much time getting to him as it was. But finally, she dug him out.

His legs looked horrible.

So long as he got through this okay, he should be able to grow them back. But if she didn't hurry, there'd be no guarantee of that. They were likely to get infected. And he'd lost a lot of blood. She found it hard to breathe as she cauterized the wounds and wrapped them in bandages. The fact that they were stained brick red before she was even finished applying them wasn't the least bit terrifying.

Once that was done, Veronica got the hell out of there.

With any luck, her grandparents could do more for Nick than she had.

#

"Why is your mother wearing that dress? Does she know how big her ass looks in it?"

Eric smacked Olivia's arm, and did so about as hard as he would have Nick's.

"Ow!" His cousin rubbed at the red spots. "What was that for?"

"Whaddaya think it was for?"

"I was just sayin' that-"

"Well, don't just say it."

She frowned. "You've really taken to her."

"Yes. I have," he said, hopping up onto the rail of the back porch. "By the way, her ass looks great in that dress. Wouldn't kill you to let yours fill out some either."

He'd helped his mother into the tight sundress. It clung to her curves like a second layer of skin. And she looked good in it. He'd had a hard time resisting the urge to ignore the ringing doorbell and throw his mother on the bed to have his way with her again.

"Please," his cousin said, smacking her own ass. "You wish you were still getting a piece of this on the regular."

"If you say so," he said.

Her tight little athletic shorts were certainly making the most out of what she had. And for all that he'd just been mocking it a moment before, her little bubble butt was definitely nice. Especially considering how small she was. It looked bigger than it was, attached to so short and slender a woman.

But it still didn't hold a candle to his mother's.

There was also the fact that Eric had met prepubescent boys with bigger tits than Olivia. Credit where credit's due, her backside really didn't disappoint. But he was finding it harder and harder to believe that he'd once told himself that breasts weren't all that important.

"Any idea why the grownups wanted to have a private pow-wow?" Liv asked.

Eric rolled his eyes as his cousin lit up a joint. Ordinarily, he had nothing against getting high. But now didn't seem like the time for it. Long as she didn't expect him to partake, though, he supposed it was no skin off his nose.

"Not sure," he said. "Maybe."

Perhaps his mother had mentioned to Wes that Eric favored a direct attack. And Uncle Wes would have told Aunt Zoey. The two of them would then want to gang up on Gabby.

He probably should have insisted on taking part in the discussion. But his mother had seemed pretty resolved when she'd told him that it would be best if he and his cousin left them alone for a while. So they'd done just that.

"Aaaannnd?"

Eric waved away her offer for him to take a hit. His cousin shrugged and tucked the joint back in between her lips.

Those luscious lips.

He forced himself to look away. He'd finally admitted to himself that he liked his women curvier, that he'd been obsessed with skinny little things because he thought that he was supposed to be. But while he might have come to realize that Olivia didn't have much of a figure, he couldn't deny that she was damn fucking beautiful.

And a total demon in the sack.

He drew a deep breath.

"Well, if I had to guess," he said after he exhaled, "your parents are trying to talk my mother into talking me out of staging a direct attack on His Majesty."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because."

She toked on her joint, held it in for a few moments, then exhaled. "This is all just such fucking bullshit. When can we stop dicking around and get my brother back?"

"I dunno. But we will get him back," he said, wrapping an arm around Liv.

She started to pull away. But then, with a sigh, Olivia rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm worried the goofy little bastard."

"I know. I'm just as worried about Patty."

"Doubtful," she said. "Very doubtful."

Eric raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you...is he, what, your new favorite?"

"Pssh," she said. "Don't be ridic. Besides, we're not even supposed to have favorites. That's the whole point. Haven't you been listening?"

"I know we're not supposed to."

"Is your mother your `favorite' now? Is that what happened to us?" she asked. "Fuck, Eric, are you in love with her?"

Eric's breath caught.

"No," he said, almost instinctively.

That was...a dangerous thought.

"Right," his cousin said, sounding about as convinced as she would have been if he'd denied ever having had sex with a member of his family.

Neither spoke for a few moments.

She wasn't wrong. He'd been avoiding the subject, even in his own mind. Or, rather, trying to avoid it. Nonetheless, the word had cropped up from time to time, in conversations she'd imagined having with his mother.

Fuck. He didn't know whether to be terrified by that, or elated. Realizing that you were in love was supposed to be pleasant, wasn't it? The type of thing that made people break out in fits of giggling?

"Well, anyway," she continued, "I don't know that Kurt's any better in bed than you or my father. But so what? I care about him, hard as that may be to believe. Thinking about how he must be reacting to all this, young and innocent as he is, makes me want to cry."

Eric took the joint from Olivia and took a long drag after all.

He never thought he'd live to see the day that Liv would say that she wanted to cry over a man, let alone her goofy little brother.

After all the guys she'd run through, most of them the type who'd have given Kurt wedgies in school, she was on the brink of a total breakdown over the lovable little twerp. Not that she shouldn't have been worried about him, of course, but Eric just hadn't considered the possibility that it would be eating his cousin up this bad. Hadn't considered that, despite the way she'd always mercilessly teased him, she'd actually felt protective of him.

It was almost enough to make him forgive the comment she'd made about his mother.

"See?" she asked, sobbing. Tears started to leak out the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them with the hem of her tank top. "Don't see you shedding any tears over Patty."

"Just because I'm coping differently doesn't mean I'm less upset," he said.

"Of course. `There's no crying in baseball,"' she said.

Eric drew a deep breath. He recognized the quote.

It was from A League of their Own. One of Kurt's favorite movies.

That kid loved every movie about baseball, no matter how bad they were. Or whether they had both Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell in them. Goofy, serious, cheesy, or poetic. If there was an outfield in it, Kurt had seen it at least twice.

Suddenly, Eric had a picture in his mind of his cousin sitting in her brother's room, going through a box of tissues, hugging all his stuff against her chest.

Meanwhile, he and his mother had coped with Patty's absence by fucking each other's brains out. By trying not to even think about Patty any more than they absolutely had to.

He felt like a total asshole.

Of course, he now knew that his mother had lost a brother and sister when she was even younger than he was now, and she'd never so much as mentioned their names for twenty years. So whatever it was that made her react that way, it shouldn't come as a surprise that his natural inclination was to do the same. Whether it was something he'd inherited from her or simply learned from her without quite realizing it, he wasn't sure, but he'd clearly gotten it from his mother one way or another.

Even so, when Olivia, of all people, made you feel bad about not being sentimental enough, it was probably a sign of something.

"What if they're not even...what if they're...."

Olivia started sobbing again, and the rest of her sentence never got out.

"It's only been a few hours there. And you heard my father. The king enjoys seeing them afraid. He wouldn't do anything too dramatic too soon."

The only reaction that got was hysterical laughter.

"Besides, for all we know, he's not planning on doing anything to Kurt anyway," Eric added. "It's Patty he's really interested in."

"Then why is Kurt missing?"

That was a good question.

When Eric didn't answer, Olivia took another drag of her joint. A long, heavy drag.

"It'll be okay."

"You don't know that," she said.

"I do."

His cousin laughed bitterly. "I get what you're trying to do. But it's not working. If you're looking for a dreamy-eyed optimist, you've got the wrong girl."

True enough. It was Patty's job to fill that role.

So Eric simply hugged his cousin tight and didn't say another word.

It might have been the first time in years she'd been that close to him, pressing up against him, without his Libido stirring. That he didn't notice how good her hair smelled, or how painfully gorgeous she was. With her makeup running down her face like that and her cheeks all puffed up, it was definitely painful to look at her, but not for the usual reason.

As he held his cousin, Eric found himself thinking about Patty. Thinking the thoughts he hadn't allowed himself to think since their father had visited them. Picturing all the vile things Phil might be doing to her. His stomach wretched, and he had to swallow a particularly bitter lump of bile to keep from vomiting.

Olivia thought her little brother was innocent? Was that supposed to be a joke?

Had she met Patty?

He wondered how she must was holding up, wherever she was.

#

They stood before the pearly gates of Solopolis, the city that lay at the center of the verdant valley that was the Eternal Garden of the Sun.

Yes. Pearly gates.

Beyond, Patty saw endless rows of buildings carved from white marble, most of which had a solid sheet of diamonds serving as a roof. Except, of course, for the ones with gilded domes or spires. The streets of Solopolis didn't form a grid, but stretched out from the center of the city, and the main thoroughfares were were paved in solid gold. As a result, when viewed from above, the city seemed to be built around a sunburst.

These people were anything but modest.

They were, however, Kurt's people. On his mother's side, anyway. That was why they were here. In the hope that the grandfather Kurt had never met would take them in and give them refuge.

"I don't know about this," Patty said.

She might not feel comfortable criticizing her cousin's sunlit kindred, but she was having more and more second thoughts about the whole running away thing.

Kurt stared at her like she'd said that she hated puppies.

"What if they're worried about us?" she asked.

"We've been gone for like ten minutes," he said. "Maybe they haven't even noticed."

"Ten minutes for us," she said. "But Summer's time is different than LA's. Sorry, than the Playground's. Why shouldn't it be different here too?"

Kurt frowned, but didn't reply.

Patty pressed on. "Maybe ten minutes here is closer to two hours in Summer. And two hours in Summer would be close to a full day back home. Which is where our family was headed. So we've probably been gone for a day, as far as they're concerned."

"Maybe," he said, sounding skeptical. "But even if that's true, what are we supposed to do? Go back? Tell them that we're safe? Because then you won't be."

"So we just disappear forever?"

"Not forever," he said. "Just until...."

"Exactly," Patty said.

"Well, that still doesn't change the reason why we left. You don't want to have sex with the king, right?"

Patty stared at the white sandals and golden strings that now adorned her feet. When they'd appeared, she couldn't have said, but they did go perfectly with the white tunic and cloth-of-gold belt she also couldn't remember donning.

jdnunyer
jdnunyer
603 Followers