Minerva Gold and the Wand of Silver Pt. 17

The bolt of stunning energy crashed into his belly and went still.

The fiery chains around Cecilia winked out.

"...well," she said, sounding interested. Very interested. "Dueling seems to have changed a lot since I was out."

Minerva grinned at her.

A side door burst open and Minerva found herself facing Kat, Gina, Selene, Harry and...Professor Stevenson.

"Let her-" Stevenson started, then stopped. She lowered the wand she had aimed at precisely where Merlin would have been standing. Kat whistled, slowly, as she looked around the room.

"Mein Gott, Minerva. Did you smack around the headmaster?"

"I...may have," Minerva said, feeling woozy. "Kat, I...Melissa, I- er, Professor, I-"

"Quiet," Stevenson said, her voice stern. "Come. We only have a short time to get away from Hexgramatica - I...am afraid this is my resignation." She sounded prim and proper, even now.

"It's more than that," Minerva said, her voice grim.

She walked out, with her friends and allies, leaving the groaning Headmaster on the ground.

Silence.

The half splintered side door opened and Professor Ravenwood - sporting a rather impressive black eye - stormed in, her non-swollen eye flashing with pure fury. "Headmaster, I have to report, Melissa Stevenson has been carrying on carnal relations with..." she stopped, slowly looking around herself, her eyes wide as she saw the wreckage.

Very softly, Professor Ravnewood whispered. "Bugger."

***

Minerva felt as if she had been speaking for hours by the time they had arrived at the Blythe household in Berwick on Tweed, the largest of the border towns between England and Scotland. She sat down next to Kat and, without a care, leaned against the muscular werewolf as the others in the room listened with grim intent. The rest of the room was positively filthy with her friends: Gina, Harry, Selene, Stevenson, Gerogry, Petunia...all of them, seeing them there with her and Kat? It made Minerva feel almost like she might be able to manage this.

No matter how tired she was.

"Well," Stevenson said, her voice dry. "It's clear we have to kill the blighters. But do you have a plan for it? Better than yours move fast and break things one, at least?"

Minerva rubbed her palms against her face. Kat, though, chuckled. "Of course we having a plan," she said.

"And it is?" Stevenson asked.

"Move fast. And break things." Minerva chuckled against Kat's bicep as she leaned into her. She was so...so tired right now.

Stevenson frowned, but before she could say anything, Kat continued.

"The Red Witches were killed before they could answer many questions from Himmler's men," Kat said, drawing her arm around Minerva even tighter, so that Minerva was almost buried in muscular female, something that Minerva was all too happy to feel. "One of those questions they were not being asked...is where they stashed their guns."

Stevenson frowned. "Guns? How many guns?"

"A lot of guns," Kat said. "We are going up against the police and the Ars Magicka. They're not armed with guns. They have mundanes for that, and no mundanes are going to be here. We have guns, we have magic, we have surprise on our side. We kill the bastards."

Harry gulped. His face was ashen. But he nodded. "Okay," he said. His hand slid along his shoulders. "I wish Robert was here. But...I'm glad he's not. We're going to..."

"No, we are not," Stevenson said, her voice firm. "Far from prying eyes, with a Parliament against it? The Ars Magika are as far out on a limb as we are. We wear masks and anti-scrying charms? We can get away with it." Her palm rubbed against her face. "I hope."

"So, we go and get the guns," Minerva said, standing up. Or, at least, trying to stand up. It was a little hard, as Kat had simply turned around and pushed her back into the sofa. Kat shook her head.

"There is no we," she said. "You are exhausted. Still recovering from stun. Stevenson and I will go and get the guns, yes?" Her golden eyes met Stevenson's and Stevenson nodded. Then Kat continued. "Gina, Harry, Selene, you will make the charms."

"Damn straight we will!" Gina said, springing to her feet.

"Gregory," Kat turned to Gregory and Petunia. Petunia clung to him, despite the fact she could stand easily now. "You're the expert - you think you can teach us how to use them in a day?"

"I..." Gregory made a face. "Well, you won't be able to shoot for shit. But I can at least give you some pointers. And you won't just be using guns, right?"

"Magic too," Minerva said.

"That might do it," Gregory said, though he looked skeptical. "That might do it."

"Wunderbar!" Kat clapped her hands together.

"What, what about me?" Minerva asked.

Kat swept her into a bridal carry, her arms scooped beneath Minerva's legs, her hand cradling her back. Minerva, realizing what was going on, squalled and wriggled, but she found herself unable to do much as she was carried to one of the large, comfortable rooms that the Blyhtes kept, and was laid into the bed. And the worst thing was, once she was laid there, she felt too warm, too comfortable, and too damn tired to even move. Kat kissed the top of her head, then whispered. "Do be staying out of trouble until we get back," she whispered.

"Muhmmmph," Minerva mumbled.

Kat slipped from the room.

Minerva's eyes started to drag closed despite herself.

***

Minerva's eyes opened. She laid in the bed, her body soaked with sweat. She shivered and squirmed, rolling left, rolling right. Her brain tingled and she felt that queer dislocation in space and time that came from an interrupted nap. Her body felt too tight and her skin felt too hot. Was this the effect of being stunned? Or was this the effect of being tossed from life to life, into death, and death again, with a hope for yet more life to come? Was this because the whole world was coming to pieces around her - madmen ruled Europe and magic walked openly through the streets. Her blood felt as if it was writhing under her skin, alive and waiting to be spilled.

"You can feel it."

The voice didn't startle her. It should have, but Minerva felt as if there was no one else who could have been in the room but Cecili.

Two red coals burned in the room - eyes, peering from the darkness. The shadow slipped to her bed and Minerva wanted to bare her throat. She wanted to scream.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"You can feel the Working," Cecilia said. Her thighs drew onto the bed, legs daintily tucked under her. Leather creaked. She still wore the tight binding harness she had worn before - and Minerva wanted so badly to take hold of the buckles. But the sudden image, almost delusionally strong, of Cecilia coming to pieces like a doll in bandages, falling apart into her arms, burned through her mind. "Half the witches and wizards on the Continent must be feeling troubled dreams. Strange thoughts." She lifted her head, looking out the window, and at the pale sliver of starlight and moonshadow it let into the room. "If they're awake, they can put it aside. If they sleep, they might toss in the bed. But you, my little witchling..." A cool finger touched her throat, feeling her heart race. "You are open to the wyrd at this moment. Feeling every reverberation in the astral plane."

"I don't like it," Minerva mumbled, her voice shockingly petulant to her ears.

Cecilia chuckled throatily. "Oh little witchling." She brushed her fingers through Minerva's hair. "Soon, you'll sleep again, and when you wake, I'm not sure you'll even remember this moment." Those fingers slid from pulse-point to lips. Minerva opened her mouth, obediently. Cecilia arched an eyebrow, thrusting both fingers into her mouth. Minerva moaned, sucking. "Good lord, you're well trained, witchling. Is it that werebeast of yours or the teacher?"

"Mmhmm!" Minerva nodded, dizzily.

"That was not a yes or no question," Cecilia murmured. "Or...was it?" She chuckled. "God, your friends really were foolish to leave a wicked vampire such as me alone in the room with you." Her fangs glinted. "Of course, I did occlude myself from their perception - a forget-me-please trickery, just so I might enjoy myself before I take my leave."

"Mmhm?" Minerva gasped as those cool, delicious fingers slid from her lips. "Leave?"

"This isn't my fight, young one," Cecilia said, leaning forward. "I am a beast, you know. A monster. A traitor. Some might even say I deserved what I got? Look at me, not a day out and I'm already planning on having my way with you." Her fingers tugged on the buttons. Minerva, unwilling to be raped, arched her back, helping the vampiress tug her nightclothes open. Her breasts felt so sensitive as they were revealed to the night air, and she bit the back of her hand to repress her moan as Cecilia's even cooler lips closed about a hard, aching nipple, sucking on her. Greedily. Oh so greedily. A hand cupped her back, another pinned her wrist above her head as Cecilia growled into her. Minerva left indentations in her skin that throbbed deliciously as her jaw tightened and her moaning tried to escape.

Cecilia drew back, then laughed. "We're alone in the house."

Minerva pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Oh."

This was a delightful mistake. Cecilia leaned in and kissed her with the confident expertise of centuries. Minerva's toes curled and her hand reached back, but before she could take hold of Cecilia's hair, Cecilia's free hand caught her wrist, then pinned her arm above her. Her hand then also took hold of her hip, and another did begin to tug down her leggings. Minerva blinked. Even in her somewhat woozied state, she knew that women did not tend to have...she had lost count, was that...five or...

Two hands cupped her breasts. Cool fingers tugged her nipples and Cecilia drew back with a throaty laugh.

"Oh this is going to be delightful."

"Ah...what..." Minerva whispered.

"We vampires are so hated because we do hate to be defined. Confined. Restricted..."

The figure above her was not the leather bound, pale figure that Minerva had seen in the darkness. Instead, there was darkness on darkness, with limbs extending from muscular shoulders like the grasping arms of a spider. Gleaming eyes began to open, peering down at her - red on white on black. Lots of them. She felt so intensely observed. Minerva trembled in fear and excitement.

"Those that pass keep themselves in your storybook forms," the vampiress crooned, her voice reverberating along several octaves at once - bassy, contralto, alto, all of it mingling into a harmony that soaked Minerva's thighs. "Bat. Wolf. Human. The only thing we share, truly?"

Minerva nodded, eager to know.

Lips parted in the darkness. Gleaming white fangs.

"Bare your neck, witchling."

Minerva lifted her head. Her eyes glittered. "You're not, you know?"

The vampiress leaned forward, two midnight black fingers rubbing Minerva's cunt, one caressing her hair, another stroking along her side. But those words stopped her cold. Her eyes, all of them, flicked up to meet Minerva's. Minerva grinned.

"You're not raping me," she whispered. "I want this. I want you. I want..." She squirmed. "All of it. All of you."

"...I did do it, you know," the vampiress said. "I'm...not misunderstood, I-"

"I don't care," Minerva said, shaking her head. "I'd have freed you anyway. No...no crime deserves what they did to you. And no one...no one..." She gulped. "God forgives, when you act better. So...go out there...and kill some fucking Nazis for me." She grinned.

The vampiress' eyes narrowed.

Then...

Then she laughed. A singing, thrumming laugh.

"Oh I like you, Minerva Golding. I like you...a lot..." Those fangs brushed against her neck as Minerva leaned her head back. The fangs sank into her and Minerva knew now why people seemed eager to embrace death. Pleasure burned through her and she trembled, her back arching, even as she knew every slurping drink that the vampiress took from her wrung her closer and closer to eternity. Her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned.

"Oh...yes..."

The vampiress drank from her with greedy eagerness, her hands pinning her down even harder and for a single terrifying, blissful moment, Minerva feared she might...not...stop.

Then...

Then she jerked back and she was Cecilia once more, all paleness and narrow lines. Her mouth glistened with blood and some dripped from her chin, glittering red spots on her high breasts. She rolled her head back and groaned. "Oh god yes..." She panted. "God. God. God. I needed that. God..."

Minerva laughed, raggedly. Her hand went to her throat, feeling the dimples, the puckered holes already feeling as if they were healing. "Will this show?"

"For your whole life, Minerva," Cecilia said, grinning. "Unless you take some steps-"

"Oh, I think I won't be doing that." Minerva said, her voice soft, her eyes glittering. "Now..." She began to push herself upright. It was strange, but...it felt like those fangs had removed all the confusion, all the uncertainty. All the strange feeling of floating in her own skin. She was centered. She was here, in her body, in this time, in this place, with this woman. She-

She...

She sat up and her head swam dizzily and she fell forward again, onto her belly.

"You did lose, ahem, about a pint of blood." Cecilia paused. "Maybe a pint and a half."

Minerva turned her head, eyes closed. "Then you need to eat me out," she said, smirking slightly. "A-As I cannot hold you down and..."

"Hold me down?" Cecilia huffed. "Eat you out?"

Minerva's grin grew more playful. "I am told by certain authorities that it's even better than blood."

Cecilia's tongue darted. She grabbed a hold of Minerva's hips, lifting her up and setting her down in a more centered place in the bed. Minerva got her knees beneath her, then grabbed onto the sheets and pushed upwards - only to find that Cecilia was leaning forward. Those delicious lips of her pressed to Minerva's cunt, and where blazing heat met the cool of a vampire's kiss, the result was more than Minerva had expected. Her fingers clenched on the sheets as that tongue - that long, flexible tongue - found her clit and began to circle and press against it without mercy.

Then...

Then the fingers joined.

More fingers than there should have been - with more hands. Two on her hips, two on her ass, one one her belly, and two tongues thrusting into her sex, and rubbing against her clit, while three fingers plunged into her cunny, all of them working with a unification that was impossible for anything but one mind, guiding them. Minerva's hips bucked and she lost all attempt at control, throwing her head back. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" She gasped as Cecilia ate her out and drank of her pussy as greedily as she had drunk from her neck.

Whiteness passed before Minerva's eyes as she cried out again and again and again - her knuckles going white as she gripped the sheets. Then Cecilia drew back, panting with a ragged happiness. "Ah, nothing like the sounds of a nubile like you..." She purred, quietly. "I admit, I might not have gotten caught if you noble girls weren't so fun to fuck."

"Not noble," Minerva murmured.

"Oh, no, Golding, you're more noble than every twat I've ever gotten my wicked lips on." Cecilia chuckled. She kissed one of her rump's gently, then drew back, leaving Minerva shuddering on the bed. When Minerva lifted her head, she saw Cecilia, clothed in a crimson robe, standing at the window.

Part of Minerva hadn't really believed that Cecilia was leaving. But she saw the cocky confidence on the vampiress' features and knew...

She wondered...if she had known the way that they had captured her before, bound her into the cell, she could make a pet of her. A servant, for good. But Minerva didn't even try and puzzle at that magical problem. She laid on her side, and said: "Will we ever see you again?"

Cecilia chuckled. "Maybe," she said. "I think I have a few people to check up on. I did miss two centuries, after all, give or take a decade here or there." She rubbed her chin. "I do wonder if Winnie Fairbrook ever did settle down with that Dutchman she was interested in..." Her grin flashed, and her fangs glittered ."I wonder if they had any daughters. I took her virginity, why not her granddaughter's?"

"You are incorrigible," Minerva said.

"Me?" Cecilia replied with mock offense, red eyes glittering. Her body slipped into the shadows. "The best of luck, Minerva Golding. You have my best wishes. One monster to another." The eyes flared. Then dimmed.

And she was gone.

Minerva laid in the bed. She knew tomorrow would bring preparations, and the next night would bring death.

So, she closed her eyes.

Then she opened them.

"Oh hey," she murmured. "I had a really great idea."

She fumbled at the nightstand and found no pen or writing implement of any kind. She was about to give up and pass out when her desk bloomed to full size beside her bed, opening drawers and unfolding a side table with a parchment already set on it. Minerva beamed at her desk, filled with such love for it. "You're a mensch," she said, then jotted down the idea, then laid her head back on the foot of the bed and went to sleep on her belly, naked, marked by a vampire, and still glistening with arousal.

She slept like a baby.