And some cups later, Lorelai hissed in pleasure. The fire of poison stung her lips as she sipped the crimson liquid. Her throat numbed, her cheeks flushed. It tasted sweet, like a thick semi-liquid candy punched with liquor. The aftertaste, if she could call it that, burned her throat, the fire of pleasure and pain tensing her jaw.
It was good, not like Durg Venom good, but if she had to compare, it had to be top shelf—the kind of stiff drink you needed to celebrate with. But with a peer, Lore examined the Valkar's cold expression. She swore the more she tried to investigate him, the more cryptic he became. She hiccupped, but that could also be the wine. She swayed, her tail like her body curved side to side. The straight silver trims waved in her sight. The warp of the room rounded her vision.
She clenched her jaw, half at him and half at herself. She meant to keep her wits about her, but damn, that drink—she couldn't seem to help herself. She pressed her chest, the sensation of fire wanting up and out by any means necessary. Meanwhile, as composed as a rock, the Valkar refilled both their cups and then made a flicked gesture.
She still hadn't gotten too used to that, as on the board before them, his crystalline knight, like a puppet on a mental string, glided across the board, capturing her rook with ease. All done without touching a piece. Gravium. She tightened her crystalline belt, why was she wearing crystal around a Archdemon.
"Check," He said.
She grumbled. She meant this to be a tactic for him to spill the details on how to surge or hopefully recruit him to teach her. She should have won; she always won these games. But how many had it been? How much did she even lose to bets at this point? She glanced down at her bare wrist, where her favourite cuff had once gleamed. Now her belt and earrings dangled as her last stakes. Next would be…
"You could always pay in something else," said Ego.
Lore waved a hand at Ego; however, like a fly to flame, her unconscious gaze shifted to the carved skin underneath his uniform. The scent, the flex, a complete tease. Maybe she could teach him something in return. She was no stranger to the ways of pleasure. As they say, when in Amorica, there is a little lust in everyone.
"Tell me," Lore caressed.
But like every time she prodded, he remained unfazed. If it wasn't about the game, It was like he didn't hear her, and it was to the point that she even began questioning if that was true, her voice somehow unable to reach the mere half a metre between them. Her words, like her attempts at seduction, fell flat.
Lore's patience frothed, every failed attempt to pull him in coiling pistons tighter in her chest. How dare he sit there, unmoved, as if she were nothing more than a breeze? She was serving herself on a platter here. She wanted to crack his calm, to see if anything lay beneath that impenetrable mask. Just look at her.
Then, as she was wrapped in his unfazed expression, a knock came from the door.
"Lore! Are you in there?" said Cassian.
Instead of the door, Lore looked out the window. The nightscape of Amorica rushed by, and the flicking glows of buildings and ships sparkled in her sight. The ever-shifting structures warped and breathed like a living being. The hanging void scrapers attached to the underworld top, one miss-bump from falling to the endless pit below.
She frowned. What could the wet woman want that was this important? She'd assume the woman would be busy servicing her clients at this hour, yet thumping at the door, here she was. Lore's drink turned sour, and irritation bubbled up. Whatever Cassian wanted, it couldn't be worth her time.
She paced the small confines, her bare toes stroking the demon bark as she approached the door. She plucked her earring out, resting the carved Hemarite in her palm. The amber stone hummed, and she swore she could hear a tune as it did. She might have struggled to awaken her own gem heart, but a little thing like this. She squeezed, and in a spark, the violet shard burst to life, and the surge of power threatened to melt her as she held it.
She placed it inside the lock, her fingertip stroking the end as she inserted it and took a step back. While the size of the stone was small, she had found out the hard way that the surge was purely dependent on density. So, the smaller the gem and the higher the volume of compressed atoms that made up the crystalline structure, the bigger the boom.
The arch of red clicked, and the burst of overclocked stone stuck between locks and gears exploded. The spray of rivets blasted free from wood and coated her sight. Call her weird, but the satisfying crack and splinter of metal shards struck a primal chord within her. For a fleeting moment, watching the mechanical components shatter and scatter was like watching her fingers reach what is hers, what she is owed. A power, her power.
"You crazy woman! What the fuck." Cassian coughed.
Ego grinned at her handiwork. Lore's tail swished as the door dropped before her.
Upon seeing her, Cassian sighed.
"Never mind. I forgot how insane you are. Have you seen-"
The woman paused. Like a snake coiling around its prey, the woman's eyes locked on the Valkar.
"Hello, handsome."
Cassian might not have been an all-powerful, multi-surging Archdemon, but she was a Neurweaver, a demon that could use only one of the founder's powers. That being control over the mind. And in less than a breath, Cassian's inner demon leaked out, her voice beckoning him. The blue hue pushed up her veins and swirled around her throat as she spoke, the hiss of steam burning the Neurite shards in her reserve.
"Come." She commanded.
And like a drone, on autopilot, the Valkar rose. Lore's heart jumped, and reflexively, she grabbed Cassian, her smooth-scaled skin like silk under her fingers.
"Stop it!" Lore pleaded.
Cassian brushed her off. Then, the woman's core oozed a wave of mental commands, and she gestured the Valkar over. Lore tried to interrupt her, but her body remained statue-still as she fought the commands. The Neurweaver power clamped her movements, her nerves firing, but her muscles laying idle.
Every nerve in her body screamed for release, but Cassian's power kept her frozen. Her teeth ground together, rage bubbling up as she stood helplessly, wondering why she could never break free of Cassian's grip. An air of warmth built in her throat, her temper shifting her toes in place. Again, it was happening again. It was not the first time they had used their power like this. Any friend she tried to make, anyone who threatened to get close, was taken away. Could she talk to just one person? That is all she ever wanted. Lore curled her lip. Why must they take everything? Why couldn't she make friends?
"Yes, darling, come closer,"
Cassian stroked the Valkar's cheek. And the woman had to look up as she did so, the tower of a man, at least a head taller. Cassian smirked and slipped her fingers into the man's belt.
"How about we take this elsewhere."
"You're covered in spiders," said the Archdemon.
"What?" Cassian said.
The Valkar pressed his finger to the woman's temple. "And no matter what you do, you can't get them off." He finished the words with a flick, Cassian taking a step back in confusion.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
Then, as she noticed her arm, the woman dropped to the deck, her fingers pushing back imaginary critters.
"Get it off me, get it off," Cassian screamed.
Lore's body snapped back under her control. Her fingers weaving to test if such an improbable fact was true. And freed of her mental restraint, Lore pursed her lips, a smile breaking through as the woman rolled her squirming body more like a scaly snake than a woman. Ego hummed the sight.
However, reminding Lore that when there was one meddling she-snake, another followed. Cass stormed over.
"What have you done?" Cass said, a Neurweaver's surge lacing her words.
But weaker than her twin, the command fell on resistant ears. The woman's gaze met the Valkar's, a sly grin in his eyes. If there was anything that annoyed the twins more, it was looking down on them. And in the Valkars case, that meant both physically and socially.
"You bastard!" the woman screamed, charging in, she lunged at the man. "You dare touch my sis–"
"I'm running low on wine." Said the Valkar.
Cass stopped, her body still, her feral expression ready to kill him.
"Go fetch some more." The man finished.
A sharp squeak escaped the woman's fangs as every cell in the Rokgar's body fought his command, until-
"Yes, right away," said Cass.
The woman bowed and strolled past her screaming sister to fetch more drinks.
Lore wagged her tail at the scene; never had the twins been disarmed like so. If she had a power like his, she could make the twins cower, make them dance to her commands. The thought thrilled her—what kind of vengeance could she unleash with even a fraction of that control? Then, while lost in her demonic thoughts, Lore blinked. The Valkar who was supposed to be in the room stood in the hall, and Amara's words echoed. He should not be allowed to leave his room.
She jumped out and snagged him by the jacket. It wasn't a strong grip, more of a suggestion as she held him. The sight of her overshadowing horns made her technically the taller of the pair. So standing just slightly taller than him, she locked eyes.
"I can't let you leave," she said.
Honestly, she didn't understand why he had to be contained in the room, but if Amara found out she just let him go. Fume! She didn't want to know what that woman would do. Lore tightened her grip, her pulse hammering in her ears. She wasn't sure why she had to stop him, only that Amara had been adamant.
"Please," she whispered, barely able to meet his eyes as she braced herself against his unreadable stare.
The Valkar looked at her, like he really looked at her. And she thought she saw something in those beautiful blue eyes. A glimmer that he just might listen to her. But if such a thing existed, it was quickly snuffed away.
"Wait," she stammered, her fangs clicking. "Don't—"
"Sleep," he said.
The word hit like a pulse of warm oil, sinking into her thoughts, smooth and soft. Her mind slowed. Her vision blurred. No. No, no, she had to fight it—had to resist. Her fingers twitched, but her muscles wouldn't listen.
Then she looked at his cold blue eyes, but it was too late.
As her knees buckled.
The world tilted.
Her body rag-dolled onto the deck.