Nos Faux Ratu Ch. 04

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'It's okay,' Jenna told herself for the hundredth time. 'You can handle this.' Even the people at the counter thought she had gone off of the deep end. She had consumed enough caffeine to kill a water buffalo and had had been gripping her stirring spoon so tightly that it had broken. She was nervous. All the times in recent days where she had revealed herself to someone, it had been under great mental emotion or strain. This was different.

"You're early," Nigel said. "I was hoping to have the upper hand for once." He had been hoping to get a smile out of her, but nothing. She looked more pale than usual, which was impressive.

"Just . . . a lot on my mind," she said. 'Nice way to chicken out,' she told herself. "How's the move going?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well. I take it that the Fool's plans are already known to your new allegiance?"

"My allegiance is to the citizen's of this country," Jenna replied. "Right now, the one best serving those interests is Nessa. And yes, they're well known. The multiple caravans was a nice touch though. We're going to have to stake out a lot of places to find the right one, aren't we?"

"Probably."

"You could just tell me."

"Unlikely. You may trust this Nessa woman, but I am still skeptical. You'll have to earn that one."

"Has the Fool gotten my file yet?"

"Not the part that he wanted. It seems to have vanished. Convenient," Nigel said. "You're going through an awful lot of trouble to hide it." Then he waited. He did not believe for a second that she was going to tell him anything.

Jenna was staring across the street at the school. "How's April?"

That was another thing that Nigel had not been expecting. "She's . . . fine. Why?"

"Do you love her?"

"Uhm, what does that have to do with anything?"

Jenna sighed. "She's close to you. What would you do if she was pulled into our world? If there was a chance that she could get caught up in the fight that was coming?"

"I'd do what I could to get her out," he whispered. "Jenna, what are you getting at?"

"Look over there," she replied, realizing that it was now or never. Wait another minute, and she would lose her nerve. "What do you see?"

"Pedestrians. Kids. There's that boy who was almost in a fight yesterday."

Jenna breathed deeply. "That's my son."

Nigel's eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the side of Jenna's face. "Your . . . son?" He saw the unthinkable occurring before him. There were tears in the Empress's eyes. "You . . . how? I mean when? He's got to be at least --"

"Fifteen years, two months, and twelve days old. I know, Nigel. I know exactly how old he is."

"But that would mean you were --"

"Sixteen years, six months, five days old when I had him." She looked away. "Which means I was fifteen when I was --" She choked on the word, a word she hated. Despite everything Nessa had said, she still believed that somehow, she had forced herself to love Him. Was it still rape when you loved someone, regardless of how unnatural that love might be?

"Jenna . . . My god, I'm --"

"Don't say 'sorry,' please. Not until you know the truth. Do you remember about fourteen to fifteen years ago . . . the Messenger case?" she said. She almost could not get the man's name out, as if saying it would make him appear in the coffee shop, a ghost with a woman he had all but destroyed all those years ago, across the street from the child he had forced into this world.

"Yeah. How could I forget?"

Saying each word out loud, without the crutch of soul-sharing or anger, was the hardest battle she had ever fought. Telling the story in the light of day caused her real pain. But to his credit, Nigel just listened. He went from incredulous to sickened to that icy rage that had given him the title of Death. His acceptance of her rambling alleviated some of the torment she was experiencing, allowing her to get the whole tale out.

"And that's why I never talk about myself," she finished. "It's why I'm so terrified of letting anyone get too close. You were always so patient. Like Nessa, you never asked more that I was willing to give. That's probably the only reason I was able to be friends with you."

Nigel wanted to go shoot someone. He had done some pretty violent things in service to his country over the years, but he was a soldier. Preying on a young girl the way Jenna had been preyed in was not something real soldiers did. It was vile, evil, and made his stomach churn.

"Jenna, I'm sorry," he said. "I listened, and I am so sorry. Your friend Nessa was right. You did not love him. You did nothing wrong. Your mind did what it needed to do in order to cope, and the ship simply never righted itself."

Nigel was surprised yet again when Jenna buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. He had never seen her emotional before, never seen her cry before, and never even exchanged a hug with her before. Whoever this Nessa was, she was unlocking a human being inside Jenna. He hoped that she was as spectacular as he was expecting.

"Jenna, I swear to you that I won't let the Fool hurt the boy. I've . . . What's his name?" he said, stopping as the young man with that now-familiar blond hair chatted with a young lady as they turned a corner and vanished.

"William," she said, her voice still crackly and uncontrolled. "My son's name is William."

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That night . . .

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"So it went well?" Nessa asked as Jenna took a break from putting the troops through their paces. There had been some resentment at first that an outsider was doing the training, but the re-masked Jenna had effectively squashed doubt when she showed just how much of a badass that she could be. It turned out that except for the two-thousand year old vampire, the upper echelon Nightwalker could go toe-to-toe with just about any of the Night Breeds. And she was wicked smart.

"Better than I anticipated," Jenna said through her mask. She and Nessa had agreed that keeping her identity from the troops was a good thing. Only the demons, Avery, Anabella, and Nessa knew the truth. No one would associate her with Nessa's dinner companion.

The commando rolled her shoulders and popped her knuckles. She had been put to the test by this strange medley of creatures, and it had been strangely refreshing. She had needed a good workout after baring her soul so blatantly. "Death will help how he can. He doesn't trust you completely, but he trusts me. Not enough to reveal the Fool's new base, but still --"

"He's helping you with that other issue, and that's enough," Nessa said. She was actually quite fond of this "Death" person even though she had never met him. She stood next to her friend. "You know this is not going to end well now. The Fool had his chance, and he blew it. You gave him that chance."

"I could have handled it better. I could have --"

"Second guessed yourself some more?" Nessa replied. "You did what you could. But we've got more problems. My sources tell me that the Alabama wolves are mobilizing to come to Garon's aid. He's pissed off something fierce, and now he's lost face in front of his men."

"That would be my fault, wouldn't it?"

Nessa smiled. It was the only response she needed. "I think the boys have gotten the picture," she said, looking at her troops. She had a greater variety than either of her opponents, including a few werewolves who she trusted and had refused to ally themselves with Garon who they considered, and these were their words and not Nessa's, "A crotch-sniffing, egomaniac mutt."

"We could probably run a few more MOUT exercises before sunrise," Jenna said. "With other DoD special forces units backing them, you really shouldn't underestimate the Nightwalkers."

"I'm not. I've got you to keep me honest."

"I'm a soldier, not a miracle worker."

Nessa stared at her new commander. "Was that a snide comment? Leveled towards me?"

Jenna shrugged. "Maybe."

"There may be hope for you after all. Okay, run them through one exercise, then we're going out."

"Where?"

"Wherever you want?"

"What do you mean?"

Nessa cocked her head this time. "The comment is pretty straight forward. Wherever you want to eat or whatever you want to do . . . What do you do for fun?"

Jenna processed the question. Finally, "I don't."

"You can seriously be telling me that you have no hobbies. At all."

Jenna shrugged. "Not really. A hobby is a luxury that saps time."

'And you never believed you deserved a luxury,' Nessa thought. "Okay, then we need to find you a hobby. Stat."

"We have other things we really should be concentrating on," Jenna pointed out dryly.

"These guys know how to fight, and now they know their enemy," Nessa pointed out. She leaned in closely. "Sex is an amazing hobby," she whispered. "And one that I am more than happy to teach you."

Jenna flushed under her mask and armor. It was not because she thought Nessa was kidding. She was fairly certain the redhead meant it. And the idea, despite her own conflicted nature on the basics of intimacy, was not without appeal. "I'm sure that the rest of your harem would be quite happy to satisfy any cravings you may have." She tried to make it sound light-hearted, but her heart was not in it.

"My cravings, as you put it, involve you," Nessa replied. "And any member of my harem would gladly join in if you were so inclined. I could find us a man who is gentle, powerful . . . hung like a horse," she purred happily. "You kissed a boy before. It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"There's a subtle difference between kissing a girl when you're fifteen and . . . well, what I've heard that you've done with the demons."

"That would be just about everything that doesn't require zero gravity to pull off," Nessa said, wiggling her eyebrows. "How about we go dancing?"

"Why? It's just a waste of motion."

"It's fun, sexy, and it can be really be liberating." Nessa forced her lungs to sigh. "And you obviously aren't interested. Honestly, you don't do anything for fun?"

Jenna felt her temper snap a bit. "Listen, I train, I do my job, and I drink coffee. That's it. And only two of those things matter right now --"

"Your mental health matters," Nessa replied calmly.

"Not to this mission."

"Yes, it does. And it matters to me."

"Why?"

"It just does."

"You make no sense," Jenna muttered.

"And we're still going out later."

"Ready to go Empress?" one of the demons asked.

"Yes. Kobal, what kind of scenarios do you have on that HoloSim machine?"

"I dunno."

She sighed. It turned out that Nessa had a highly advanced training facility for her people, but most of them just used the basketball court setting in the 3D simulation projector. "Does anyone here actually know how --"

"What scenario are you looking for?" Avery asked, stifling a chuckle. Jenna, or "The Empress" as she was called amongst the troops, had a soldier's mentality when it came to training. Most of the Night Breeds under Nessa's control lacked a certain amount of formality.

"Taking the high ground in an urban setting. Wherever this goes down, the Minor Arcana will take the high ground and take as many enemy out as they can before the Major Arcana start a ground war."

"Got it. Do you want simulated werewolves too? Make this a three way fight?"

"If you've got an AI that will work for them, that might be a good idea. I take it they're all about a ground game?"

"Ground and pound," Avery agreed.

"Fine. Set their hostility level at 70 percent towards the Nightwalkers and 30 percent towards us. Garon may want my head and Nessa's job, but he'll need to take care of the Fool before he can lay claim to either."

"You know," Nessa whispered from right behind Jenna's ear, "you're really hot when you're in uniform and being all authoritative." She grinned as Jenna promptly stiffened up and went down to run the troops through the scenario. "Oh yeah," she said to Anabella who had scooted up next to her, "She wants me."

"Why ARE you so interested in her?" Nessa's oldest friend asked.

"I've seen the girl she was when she was young. I want to see what that girl would be like as a grown up. I mean, we've talked about how fucked up she is, but think about how much she's survived. There's something there . . . something worth seeing."

"The fact that she's gorgeous has nothin' to do with it?"

"Of course it does. Just a smaller role than usual," Nessa agreed. She watched as her newest employee talked with the different units, letting them know what to expect and what the Fool might change now that the Empress had switched sides. "When she is on, she's really on," she muttered.

"Oh, she's a smart one," the banshee agreed. "Got a mind for fightin'. And speakin' o' fightin', you plannin' on dealing with Garon anytime soon?"

"I'd have to wade through a whole horde of werewolves to get to him, and he's sure to be warded against me. All other things being equal, I could take him. But if he's warded, then that would negate the flying and the blood mist. Things get trickier at that point. And right now, I'm just giving him enough rope for the Council to hang him with. But for now, I have more important matters to deal with."

"The Nightwalkers?"

"Actually, I was thinking of how I was going to get Jenna into a thong."

"Ah," Anabella said, "the important stuff."

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Hours before sunrise . . .

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"I'll see you ten and raise you ten," Avery said, tossing his chips in. He glanced around the table, trying to figure what his opponents had in their hands. Kobal was already out, while Nessa and Cresil were down to their last chips. Nessa was also down to her black-spandex boy shorts and matching bra. They were not actually playing strip poker . . . she just wanted to be naked.

"Okay," Nessa grumbled, "How is it that I'm thousands of years old and yet I'm losing?"

"You have no poker face darlin'," Anabella responded. "You can't bluff fer shit."

"And using phrases like, 'Oh no, another fucking deuce' probably doesn't help," Avery mentioned. "Just a suggestion."

Cresil tossed in some chips. "That, and we usually play strip . . . well, strip everything. And you try to lose."

"Good points all around," Nessa said. She glared half-heartedly at Jenna, who was sitting across from her with about half the chips on the table. Her face was completely blank, and her cards were held perfectly still. "And she's never even played before!"

"Rules are simple," Jenna replied, her voice flat. "The rest is about odds and memory."

"Now SHE has a good poker face," Cresil muttered.

Jenna looked up. "Huh?"

"Nope," Nessa said, "her face is just stuck like that."

Jenna eventually cleaned the table, looking somewhat perplexed that "such a simple game" held so much fascination. Cresil, who had been the last opponent to fall to Jenna's gambling prowess, grumbled something unpleasant under his breath and then led his fellow demons back down to the bar. Avery asked Anabella if she wanted to grab dessert, and she accepted. She also shot Nessa a mean glare when the vampire started to smirk. Nessa tried to look innocent. She failed.

"I should be going," Jenna said at last. "I haven't been home in days."

"So? It's not like you have to go and feed the fish or anything."

"I . . . I've never been away this long."

"Jenna, that place isn't a home, it's a prison. You are the warden and the prisoner, and it's not good for you."

"I'm not a child," Jenna snapped suddenly, "so stop treating me like one."

"I just don't see the appeal in going and torturing yourself like this for the sake of it."

"Are you that full of yourself? I have sex with you once and suddenly I'm supposed to turn into a drooling idiot who can't bare being away from you?"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to pick a fight. And yeah, I'm surprised. I thought you had a good time last night."

"I did," Jenna said, trying to remain calm, while her body was taking a trip down memory lane and her soul sought the warm comfort that lying in Nessa's arms had provided.

Nessa counted backward from five in her head. "Jenna, did I do something wrong? Something to make you angry?"

"Besides being possessive?" Jenna sighed. "And that's not even a bad thing. I just don't know who I am. I know that is why you're pushing me, but I need some space. You've had thousands of years to figure out who you are. I --" She stopped and shrugged.

Nessa smiled, a little tiredly. "You've had a week. Maybe asking you to face all your demons while helping fight my battle is a lot to ask, but I need to ask it. But ask yourself this . . . do you really want to sleep alone?"

It was not a hard question really, since Jenna's eyes were drinking in the fluid curves of Nessa's body, almost as if they had a mind of their own. "No, I really don't."

"Then come to bed," Nessa said, sliding her bra off and sashaying over to the life-sized mattress with a natural sensuality that Jenna could barely wrap her head around.

"How is it that you spend so much time every day in bed?" Jenna asked.

"I do my best work there. And I'm not even just talking about sex."

"You think about things besides sex sometimes?"

"Occasionally, but usually I get over it pretty quick." Nessa looked over her shoulder and her eyes grazed their way down the front of Jenna's body. "See, I'm over it."

Jenna did not want to smile, but she could not help it. "You have a one-track mind."

"YOU have a firm grasp of the obvious. Hey, want to shower before bed?"

That had Jenna's attention but for different reasons than Nessa was expecting. Nessa had the most amazing shower on the planet. It was a walk-in with adjustable pressure jets that could be set to just about any angle, and they all had the most amazing massage setting --

"Okay, I practically throw myself at you, and you just get nervous," Nessa pouted, somewhat insincerely, "but I mention my shower and you look weak in the knees."

Jenna tried looking aloof. "It's just a very nice shower."

"Fine," Nessa said, dismissively waving her hand. "Just get all hot and naked and wet. See if I care."

Jenna sighed. "One track mind." She stripped off her gear and started pressing buttons at the kiosk near the shower entrance. Yes, it was advanced enough that it needed a kiosk. And when the temperature was just right, she stepped into the center of the circle and let the warm water and steam ease her cares away.

"Mind if I join you?" Nessa asked from the edge. She had been quite content to just watch the streams of water cascade down that tight body, but she just could not pass up such an opportunity forever. "Strictly innocent and platonic."

Jenna smiled. "You know the story of the frog and the scorpion?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"You can't help being what you are," Jenna pointed out. "I may not have known you that long, but two things you are most definitely not are platonic or innocent."

"You're right. But you're no frog, and stinging you was not what I had in mind." Nessa wiggled her eyebrows.

"You're really hopeless, aren't you?"

"Oh no, I have great hope. For me, for my life, for tonight, and for you."

Jenna stared out from the steam. "Okay, either that was really . . . sweet . . . or one of the weirdest come-ons I've ever heard."

"First of all, why can't it be both? Second, I doubt you go out in public often enough to have heard a lot of come-ons. And you never answered my question. Mind if I join you?"

Jenna waited for a moment, then nodded. Her eyes widened a bit and her breathing deepened as that red hair became soaked with water and rivulets flowed over every luscious curve.

"Just remember," Nessa said, delighting in the warming sensation of the spray, "I am a scorpion."