Flying Blind Ch. 07

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Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,661 Followers

Madison turned and made her way back out to the main room. "Heda?" she asked, doing a quick scan. She did not see her girlfriend immediately, but her father came over, his expression worried.

""What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I just . . . I think I may know what's happening to King Reichert."

"Honey, he's got the best researchers in the world looking into it and --" Mr. Hannity stopped when he saw his daughter's face fall. He did not want to be just another person who did not listen to her. "What's your idea?"

"It doesn't matter. Who's going to believe me?" she asked.

"I might," Heda said, appearing beside her.

"Madison, go on," her father told her. "You made it this far in life by being smart. So who am I to say that you're wrong before you've said anything."

Madison took a deep breath, then unleashed everything in one fell swoop. At a certain point, Mr. Hannity asked Mrs. Sanchez in to confirm a few aspects of Madison's hypothesis, but otherwise waited for Madison to finish.

"It's not a bad idea," Mrs. Adler said, "though one that would be very hard to follow up on." She glanced sideways at her daughter. "Not that I'm encouraging anyone to follow up on it except the proper authorities."

"But --"

"Heda Kimberly Adler, YOU are not an official investigator. The moment you pass the exams that allow you to enter active service, you can participate in these kinds of investigations, but --" She stopped when she saw Madison snickering. "What?"

The bat-shifter turned to her girlfriend. "Your middle name is Kimberly?"

Heda flushed a bit. "Yeah? What of it?"

"I just thought it would be something . . . macho."

"Kimberly is a perfectly good middle name," Heda grumbled.

"It comes from her great grandmother, who was a dear woman with impeccable manners. I was HOPING it might carry over, but apparently those particular genes are recessive in this generation."

"When it comes to behaving myself, I learned everything I know from the maternal side of the family," Heda shot back.

"Sweethearts," Mr. Adler said, "no more Debate for the evening. We've entertained our hosts quite enough for one evening."

"But Dad --" Heda started to say.

"But Thomas --" Jessica added.

Mother and daughter looked at each other, then Jessica sighed. "Okay, point to you."

An hour or so later, everyone had retired to his or her own room. Madison was still a little wound up from her first foray into the world of magical investigation, so she was grooving to some music wafting over from her Ipod docking station when she heard a light knocking on her door.

"Yes?"

"Hey, it's me."

Madison raised an eyebrow. "Me who?"

"Meluv U. Longtime."

She opened the door and peeked out. Heda was just standing there, smirking. "Really," Madison started, "that's the best you can do?"

"Nope. Just the best that I can do through a doorway."

Madison smiled. "I seem to recall you could do pretty well two states away."

Heda took her girlfriend's face with both hands and kissed her. "How was that?"

"S'all right." Madison's response got her another kiss that made her toes curl, her heart-rate go up, and wound up with her pressed up against the wall of her bedroom. "Better."

"That was a good idea today. Don't know if it'll pan out, but it was good."

Madison sat back on the bed. "You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I can actually see you planning how you're going to investigate everything. It's as plain as the nose on your face."

Heda sat down next to Madison. "I can't. I think now I know why Mom kept running off to fight the war or doing whatever the Council asked of her. I just can't stand the idea of that guy running around free after everything he's done."

"You'll get in trouble."

"Like that'll be anything new."

"But this time, you won't be able to out-argue your mother to get out of it."

Heda looked her girlfriend over. "You're seriously trying to talk me out of it?"

Madison kissed Heda on the shoulder. "I've gotta try. If you get hurt, you think I won't feel bad about it? That I won't think that I should've tried harder? Mind you, I know it won't work. If I'd only known you for a few minutes, I'd know I couldn't really change your mind."

"I listen, really I do."

"But you're stubborn as --"

"Don't you dare say --"

"-- your mother," Madison finished. Heda promptly jumped on her girlfriend and started to tickle her. "Stop! Someone will hear!" she gasped.

Heda did stop, then lay down on top of Madison. "Shut me up."

Madison's mouth opened, then shut, then opened, then shut. Finally, "I promised . . . Dad . . . the clothes would stay on."

""Well, you can do a whole lot with your clothes still on," Heda whispered nibbling on Madison's ear. "But if you'd rather I leave --"

"If you leave me high and dry right now, I will hurt you," Madison gasped, pushing her body against Heda's.

Heda worked her hips until Madison spread her legs, then settled in between them for some serious petting. Madison realized that for being dressing, there was a lot of skin touching skin. Madison had on her underwear and an oversized sleeping shirt, while Heda only had a tight pair of shorts and a sports bra. Heda took Madison's hands and put them on her ass.

"I love your butt," Madison murmured, digging her fingers in while hooking Heda's knees with her ankles. "Can I keep it?"

Heda stopped sucking on Madison's neck for just a moment. "I don't think I could pry it away from you if I wanted to. I'm just glad that it's in capable hands." She yipped lightly when Madison pinched her butt.

"Just checking to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"You're supposed to pinch yourself!"

"What fun would that be?"

Heda grinned, sliding her hand between their bodies and fondling Madison's nipples through the cotton shirt. She would have given her wing feathers to get her hands on the actual breasts, but she would not make Madison break her promises. This was kind of fun anyway. "You teased me about my breasts last time," she whispered huskily, "but I seem to recall that yours are pretty spectacular."

Madison ground her body against Heda, strongly resisting the urge to thrust her hands under those tight shorts. Heda just had a body that begged to be touched. The "clothes stay on" rule was going to drive her nuts. She needed to discuss this with her father. Later. Right now, she wanted some nookie, or as close as she could get.

Since Heda had caused some separation, Madison used it to place her hand over the damp sample of cloth covering her girlfriend's sex, then began rubbing small, rapid circles around her swollen mound.

"You should have left your swimsuit on," Madison breathed, "because I really want to get you wet."

Heda bit her bottom lip and pushed her crotch against Madison's hand. A few months ago, she doubted Madison could even have imagined talking like this, but now each little innuendo rolled off of that silver tongue like nobody's business. Another good thing about that tongue was how if fit in Heda's mouth, amongst other places. But right now, kissing was the only thing on the menu, so she sampled the local flavor.

Heda pushed up with her arms and began moving her hips as if she were fucking Madison, locking her eyes on those of her lover. She fucked Madison's hand until she just couldn't take it anymore. She leaned over and locked mouths with Madison, moaning into her mouth as she came.

Madison cold feel the pulses of sweet wetness dripping onto her hand, and she instinctively brought her fingers to her mouth for a taste.

"Do you have any idea how much I missed you?" Heda said.

Madison held up her fingers. "This much?"

"That's a start." Heda crawled down and placed her face between Madison's eager thighs, pushing them apart until her underwear came into view. She grinned when she saw a glimpse of the "Hello Kitty" underwear. Apparently Sasha had bought them for her on a lark. Madison could not see the designs of course, but claimed they were very comfortable. Heda rubbed her nose over where she knew a sensitive little nub was anxious for some attention.

Madison grabbed one of her pillows and bit down hard on it as Heda began an above-the-covers lick-and-nuzzle fest that was making her want to scream like a banshee. She gripped Heda's head with her spare hand, feet planted on the comforter and back gently arched.

Heda was in no hurry whatsoever, feeling all of Madison's sensual bits through the teasing garments that protected them. She ran her fingers up and down the bat-shifter's legs as she pushed her tongue into her girlfriend's panties, causing gentle shudders and adorable growling noises.

One of the best things about being with Madison, in Heda's ever so humble opinion, was seeing and hearing these reactions. She adored the way those long legs seemed desperate to find solid footing, or the way her flat tummy bounced when she gasped. And the growling, moaning, and occasional squeak were a symphony of delightful sounds, almost as enticing in their own right as the sexy voice that Heda had fallen for.

"When you come back to college," Heda whispered, blowing hot breath across the slight section of belly skin that had become exposed during Madison's gyrations, "I think I'll just lock you in my room with me and not let you wear clothes for days."

Madison stopped gnawing on her pillow and said, "Well, aren't we getting a little pushy. Who says . . . ah, don't stop!"

"Don't stop what?" Heda asked not-so-innocently.

"Touching that . . . that . . . ahhhhhh," Madison let out in a long gasp, shaking as she orgasmed.

"You mean that?" Heda said, kissing the clitoral area and licking up some of the moisture seeping through "Hello Kitty's" whiskers.

Madison lay flat, almost as if she were contemplating making a snow angel. "Phone sex ain't bad, but that's soooo much better."

Heda flopped down next to her girlfriend, kissing her while tracing the line of her jaw with one finger. Then she sighed. "I suppose I'll need to head back to my room."

Madison made a grimace. "I'd rather you stay, but I don't think I want to face your parents and Dad if you did."

"So, I guess I'll be going --"

"I guess you should --"

It wound up being a little while before anyone went anywhere or anyone got any sleep.

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A few days later . . .

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"Heda, remember the whole 'non-interference' clause laid out when you told your brother about Madison's plan?"

Heda growled as she walked out of the third "black magic" shop of the afternoon, then climbed into Peter's car. "Not really. I was thinking about how I was going to help." She grabbed her Mountain Dew from the cupholder. "Why? What did they say?"

Peter rolled his eyes and started up the car. "To NOT interfere."

"Good thing I didn't hear that then, isn't it?"

"Okay, why are we hitting these dives anyway? Not a one of these is a reputable dealer."

Heda tapped her head. "If he had gone to a real magic dealer or teacher, we would have heard about it. His picture has been passed around to the whole community."

"But he could've gone anywhere."

"Nah. This guy hasn't strayed far from home since his mentor croaked. He can't have. You saw how much work he had put into that lair of his, and scoping out the campus yada yada yada --"

"Got it." Peter scrunched his eyebrows.

"What? Heda asked. "What is it?"

"Oh, just thinking. Strangely, your logic doesn't completely suck."

"Screw you too."

"We've already eliminated that possibility."

Heda laughed. "I should tell Anthony that I let you feel me up. It would drive him bug-nuts."

"You could let me feel you up. Then it wouldn't be lying." That comment earned Peter a punch in the arm.

"No one touches this bod but me and Madison. And a really good masseuse." Heda punched an address into the GPS, then leaned back. Peter punched in some tunes, then started to whistle along. Heda rolled the window down and let the cooling air flow past her face. It was times like this that she realized why dogs did it. Pity eagles did not have that sense of smell.

Heda was bound and determined to keep herself busy. She had tried to abide by the wishes of the investigating officers. Really she had. That had lasted for about two watered-down movies on Comedy Central and a bowl of popcorn, then she had decided to do this instead. And Peter had the afternoon off.

"So," Peter said after ten minutes of quiet, both of them enjoying the drive through the country through a podunk town in northern New Mexico, "Have you seriously thought about trying to be Queen someday?"

Heda was able to aim towards the open window when Mountain Dew went flying out her nose. "Gods, that burns! Where the hell did that question come from?"

"Just curious. A lot of people are already expecting you to try at some point. Maybe when Queen Brown steps down --"

"I haven't even graduated college! And anyone with sense wouldn't challenge Samantha. I've seen her spar with my Mom, and she's scares the crap out of me."

"I noticed you haven't answered the question," Peter pointed out.

"Fine. No, I haven't thought about being Queen. I don't want to think about it." She rubbed her eyes, which had teared up due to the stinging caused by snorted a heavily caffeinated beverage. "Who the hell's been saying that?"

"I dunno. Everyone. Ever since you came on campus and started stirring things up --"


"I did NOT!"

"Let's see, you took on the resident bully, you've given the most powerful monarch on the planet a migraine, taken a social pariah and turned her into a folk hero, you've pursued a psychopathic serial killer into his lair . . . yeah, you've made some waves."

Heda snorted. "I'm sure they've got people who have done weirder stuff at the other shifter colleges."

"Nope," Peter replied. "I looked it up. There's a boar-shifter in Munich who threw a kegger that wound up burning down the library, but apparently that's not such a big thing in Germany."

"Wait, there's websites to see what shifters are doing?"

"Yeah. You didn't know? There are pools on likely candidates for each crown."

"Bullshit," Heda said, grinning and looking out the window. Then she looked back. Peter looked serious. "Really?"

"You've made the top hundred faster than anyone. No one else under the age of twenty has broken in before."

Heda looked out the window again. Part of her still thought that Peter was screwing with her, but part of her . . . 'Nah,' she thought. "We almost there?"

"Almost there. You're actually freaked out, aren't you? I just figured you knew."

"The only thing I use my computer for is my writing and porn. And sometimes music." She glanced at him. "So where are you?"

"I'm not even in the running." He pulled into the dusty parking lot of outside of a single-wide trailer that no self-respecting witch would ever let land on them, even in the land of Oz.

"Okay, this is . . . quaint," Heda said. "Rustic even."

"It's a toilet," Peter responded. "In the middle of a giant litter box. In hell."

"Now you're just being a drama queen." Heda walked up and opened the front door, which even provided an antiquated creaking noise as it moved to expose the cigarette and incense laden air beyond. Even without the heightened sense of smell that she had desired earlier, Heda was able to deduce that menthol and cherry scents did not mix pleasurably.

"Welcome to Madame Katrina's House of Magic!" came a voice, cloaked in a wretched combination of over-excitement and a fake Transylvanian accent. The woman who emerged, complete with tacky gypsy ensemble, looked like she had seen better days, thought probably not that much better. She looked like the kind of person who lived in the middle of nowhere because she always had and always would. She could have been anywhere from her late thirties to early sixties, and Heda would not have been able to guess where in that range she fell.

"Hi," Heda said, starting into her script. "Hey, I hate to be a bother, but I was wondering if you could help me out with something."

"Madame Katrina can help you with whatever ails you. Spells, charms, fortunes . . . for fifty dollars, I can do a tarot reading --"

"Ma'am, I actually just need you to look at this picture," Heda interrupted, pulling a copy of the police picture of Daryl Mosely out of her pocket, "and tell me if you've seen him in here before."

Madame Katrina instantly looked suspicious. "You two cops?" she asked, her contrived accent falling by the wayside.

Both the bird-shifters raised their eyebrows. "Do we look like cops?"

"I'm a legitimate business woman," the woman said. "If you're not here to --"

"Madame Katrina, we're not looking to cause you any trouble. We just want to know if you've ever seen this guy in your store or not."

"People come here all the time," the woman replied.

Heda doubted that this woman got more than one customer a day, including Black Friday. She suppressed a sigh and dug into her wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Just to look. We think this guy may do something bad, and he thinks 'magic' is the way to go," Heda explained, using air quotation marks for "magic." "Please, it would be great if you could help."

The woman looked at Heda, then the twenty, then back to Heda, she reached out and grabbed the cash as if it were some kind of trick. Finally, she moved her eyes towards the picture.

"Okay, but I can't --" Madame Katrina's eyes met those in the image, and she shuddered.

"You know him, don't you?" Peter asked quickly.

Madame Katrina suddenly seemed much older, more towards the "sixty" end of the scale that Heda had created earlier. "I wish I didn't. You say this guy might do something bad? I believe that. I truly do."

"When did you see him?"

"A couple of times. First time was a year or so ago, and then . . . then he just gave me the creeps. Stared at me as if I were a mutant or something. Looked at everything, asked about the voodoo stuff," she added, pointing towards a set of rickety old shelves. "Never bought nothing. Then he came in a few weeks ago, and --"

"He was here?!" Heda yelped, glancing at Peter. She needed to tell Edgar, so they could get a tracker out here. If they found someone good and the scent had not grown cold, then maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance.

"Yeah. He looked through the books again. I'd gotten a bunch of stuff at an estate sale from when I was visiting my sister out in Baton Rouge, and he found some stuff . . . he couldn't take his eyes off of it. I remember he was so . . . cold. That's the only word I can think of to describe it. He never threatened me or anything, but I've never been so scared in my life."

"The books, do you remember what they were about? Titles?"

"Books like that don't have titles or nothing. That's what made 'em look so authentic. I looked at the pictures once. Sick shit in there."

Heda and Peter talked with the woman for a little while, but she was not able to provide any additional information. Heda wound up buying a dream-catcher for her room, then the two of them headed out.

"Fuck," Peter muttered. "Think those books might have been real?"

"There's real voodoo where they came from, so yeah. If a real practitioner kept a journal? Yeah, I think they were real." Heda started biting her nails. "Now, I just have to tell Edgar." She grabbed her phone, found her brother's number, then punched "send." "Hey Ed!" she said when the phone picked up. "Uhm, I've got something to tell you. Well, you'll kind of like it and kind of not."

She told her brother everything that she'd been up to since she had decided to ignore the non-interference edict, including the entirety of the conversation with a fake psychic in northern New Mexico.

Evil Alpaca
Evil Alpaca
3,661 Followers