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Authors: Sara King

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“Yet you think it is me.”  She
was taking this rather well, he realized.

“Yes,” ‘Aqrab managed.  “What
woman reviles a man’s touch more than a Fury?”

To his utter shock, she just
relaxed with a smile and shook her head.  “That’s impossible.”

He felt some more of his
confidence slip away.  “How do you mean?”

“I was sent here to kill you.  My
Lord’s orders were specific.”

‘Aqrab frowned.  “How specific?” 

Instead of arguing with him that
it was privileged information, or that a beast could not understand the words
of the gods, or that a slave and a criminal had no right to know, she simply
shrugged and said, “Kaashifah, Maiden of the Sword, you shall conquer the
djinni of Ji’fah, spread his blood across the land, and bring his heart back
for my perusal.”

‘Aqrab felt his heart stop.  It
didn’t take a djinni to see the twist in
those
words.

He tried to speak, but his throat
suddenly would not work for him.  Spread his
blood
across the land?  What
could he possibly say to that?  And how could he broach the subject of breeding
without losing limbs?

“So you see,” Kaashifah said, her
eyes filled with dark certainty, “I was sent to kill you.”

‘Aqrab blinked at her.  Perhaps
it didn’t take a djinni to see the twist, but it was becoming clear that a Fury
was utterly blind to it, by her very nature.  After all, the only heart that a
Fury deemed herself capable of winning was the one she ripped out of her fallen
enemy’s chest.

 “Well,” ‘Aqrab said, in the silence
that followed.  “That explains a few things.”

She cocked his head at him with
curiosity.  “You’re taking this rather well.”

“I, uh…” ‘Aqrab winced.  “…weave
words for a living.”

“So?” she demanded.

“So…” ‘Aqrab said, “…in my
experience, in dealing with the gods, one must learn to find multiple meanings
to a turn of phrase…because they enjoy being dicks like that.”

“Yes, and?”

She
still
could not see
it.  ‘Aqrab sucked in a breath and held it.  He met her quizzical, utterly
knowing and superior look, then let it out in a
whoosh
.  “Never mind.”

There was a long, awkward silence
between them before his magus pulled her hand away from the pile of clothes and
said, “Lie down, letch.  I need to finish profaning myself to your
satisfaction, unless you plan on granting me free food.”

“You have reset your seven
days—it’s not really in a djinni’s nature to grant boons,” Aqrab admitted.  He
stretched out again, allowing her access to his back.  “It takes the fun out of
it.”

She put her cool hands to his
back and started kneading once more. 

After a few minutes of silence,
she said, “All this time, you could’ve bedded me at will?”

‘Aqrab, who had been rapidly
succumbing to the pleasures of her tiny hands, floundered back from the brink
of unconsciousness in a panic.  “Uh, not exactly, mon Dhi’b,” he began,
starting to get up.

The Fury put a curse-heavy hand
on his back and shoved him bodily back to the ground.  “Stay there and answer
my question.  I’m busy profaning myself, remember?” 

‘Aqrab stiffened with the rush of
Law.  “You have reset your seven days.”  He twisted his head to look up at her
warily.  “Let’s be frank, little wolf.  Be you cursed by a wolf or not, I don’t
have your strength.  I can jump realms and set things on fire.  You could quite
literally rip my body apart.  It wouldn’t
stay
ripped apart, but
honestly, if you were in my position, wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of a
good bedding?”

He expected her to laugh or say
something unkind, but she merely continued to massage the knots from his back. 
Then, after a few more minutes of that went by in silence, she said, “Flip onto
your back, you miserable wretch.”

“You have reset your seven
days—my
back
, mon Dhi’b?” ‘Aqrab asked, warily keeping himself right
where he was.  Somehow, exposing his spine to the Fury seemed much…safer…than
giving her access to…other…parts, especially considering the bent of their
previous conversation.  “I’d rather stay on my stomach.  I’m comfortable. 
Besides, I’m sure you can complete your end of the bargain right where I am.”

Then the Fury sighed, dug her
hands under his shoulder and abdomen, and, tiny as she was, simply flipped him
over.  ‘Aqrab grinned up at her nervously, fighting the urge to cover himself. 
“You just illustrated my point perfectly.”

The Fury grunted.  He watched her
liquid brown eyes shift to his groin and stop.  For the first time that he
could remember, she openly
looked
, and it left his balls twisting on
themselves in ominous foreboding, even as his cock started to harden from the
attention.  Again, ‘Aqrab had to stifle the urge to protect himself and just
waited tensely as she looked.

…and continued to look.  For long
minutes.  Like she was
memorizing
it for some horrible Fury ritual.

“Uh, mon Dhi’b?” he ventured
nervously, once she continued to stare.  “I can hide it if it bothers you…”  He
started to cover himself.

The Fury snagged his arm and
dragged it bodily aside, once more revealing the now-throbbing flesh at his
groin, gazing at it as a raptor watched a snake. 

Now
that
was an unpleasant
thought.

“Um, mon Dhi’b…” he began warily,
his wrist still trapped in her iron grip.  He started to cover it with his
other hand.

“Remove your damned hand before I
rip them both off, djinni,” she growled.  “I’m concentrating.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” ‘Aqrab
said, a nervous chuckle issuing from his chest unbidden.  “Three thousand years
you refuse to
look
at it, now you’re giving it the same look a cat would
give a mouse.  Forgive me if I’m a bit…unnerved…by the change.”

“Just shut up,” she growled. 
“When I’m ready for you to talk again, I’ll tell you.”  She continued to stare
for what seemed like hours, looking this way and that, even going so far as to
put her face within inches and squint at it.  Then, to his
shock
, she
reached down and took his scrotum in her hand and tugged it up, to peer
beneath.  “Why is it moving like that?”

It was all ‘Aqrab could do not to
squirm.  “My guess would be they are highly alarmed by your sudden interest.” 
Then he added, “Either that, or they’re cold.”

“And this?” she demanded,
dropping his balls abruptly and prying his manhood from his abdomen with a
single finger.  “Did it get cold, too?”

‘Aqrab winced inwardly.  Best, he
decided, to leave that one alone.  Coughing, he said, “Uh, no, mon Dhi’b,
it’s—”

“Getting bigger,” she said, with
a frown.

Somehow, this was his greatest
hope and his worst nightmare, all wrapped into the same horrible instant.  For
a moment, ‘Aqrab struggled with how to approach the situation.  He didn’t want
to frighten her off, but the way she was analyzing it left him…uneasy.  He
decided it was best to tell her the truth, now, rather than face the
consequences of not doing so, later.  “It swells when a man is…interested…mon
Dhi’b.”

Hovering over his groin, she
twisted to give him a frown.  “It’s been swollen almost every time I’ve seen
you.”

He coughed again.  “Uh, yes.”

She dropped his manhood and
straightened, putting herself at a distance to peer at it warily.  “Show it to
me small again.”

…As if he could simply will it
back to size.

“Uh,” ‘Aqrab began delicately, “I
have very little control over that, mon Dhi’b.”


Try
, you miserable
djinni.  I need to know what it looks like
without
your damn passions
getting in the way.”  The way she said it left ‘Aqrab frowning.  Like she was
analyzing an enemy fortress for its weaknesses.

“Mon Dhi’b,” he asked gently,
“may I ask why—”

“No.”

He hesitated a moment, then, with
a sigh, gave in.  “All right.  Give me a moment here.”  Then, when he tugged on
his arm and she continued to hold him by the wrist, he cried, “And would you
release me?  I need to concentrate.”  The Fury glanced at the arm she held,
then at him, as if she were judging whether or not he would try to cover
himself again.  Then, reluctantly, she let him go.  Once his magus had
grudgingly freed him, he settled back and began to very vividly imagine the
unhappy image of himself getting kicked in the balls, repeatedly.

Very slowly, it had the intended
effect.  Immediately, the Fury leaned close again.

Watching her examine him with
such deadly seriousness was almost comical—but it took all of ‘Aqrab’s
concentration, once she started playing with it again, to keep himself from
once more rising to the cause.

When she finally seemed to have
satisfied her interest, after twisting it this way and that, peering under and
around it, getting him to stand
up
while she squatted down and looked at
him from
behind
, the Fury finally grunted and said, “It wouldn’t be that
difficult.”

Instantly, ‘Aqrab hardened
again.  Coughing to hide his excitement, he managed, “Uh, well, I’m sure you
might have some…difficulties…it being your first time, but I’m sure we could
work it out.”  Then, puffing out his chest with a grin, he said, “And, I’m not
sure if you noticed, mon Dhi’b, but I’m not a small man.”

She gave him a blank look like he
was speaking another language.  “What?”

Flushing, ‘Aqrab said, “There are
certain…problems…with the first time.”

Now her brows were drawing
together in confusion.  “What kind of problems?”

“I’m…rather large…” ‘Aqrab said.

She waved a dismissive hand. 
“That won’t be a problem.”

‘Aqrab’s mouth opened as he tried
to consider how to respond to that.  At the way she was looking at him as if he
had grown a beetle’s antennae, he decided he needed to start addressing the
basics.  “Well, for some, the size can be an…obstacle…to full enjoyment of the
final product.”

She peered at him as if he were a
complete idiot.  “It can be
any
size.  Doesn’t matter.  You just have to
adjust the scale.”

‘Aqrab’s eyes widened and he
wondered, quite anxiously, what special qualities a Fury might have that would
allow them to make such ‘adjustments,’ and whether it would be mutual.  He
looked down at himself, suddenly not quite sure he wanted to find out.  Once, a
long time ago, someone had shown him a wall-mounted pencil-sharpener, and he
flinched with the vivid image that followed.

The Fury was frowning at him,
now.  “
That’s
what this is about?  Are you really so conceited that
you’d be worried I’d change its
size
?”

“Ah…” ‘Aqrab swallowed, hard, and
inched away from the Fury.  Funny, how the gods had never told him about
that
before they bound him to a Handmaiden of Ares.  Yes, he was definitely going to
have to wish a few poxes.  “Truth be told, I kind of
like
its size, mon
Dhi’b.  It…
pleases
…me for it to remain this size.”

She made a disgusted sigh.  “Do
you
know
how unwieldy something like that would be?”

‘Aqrab blinked at her, then down
at his groin.  “I’d say I’ve managed pretty well so far.”

“It would take
forever
.  I
need to start with something smaller.  Less is more, when you’re just getting
into the groove of things.”

This time, ‘Aqrab’s mouth
did
fall open.  “You said this would be your first time.”

Her frown deepened.  “When did I
say that?”

“Just a few
days
ago!”
‘Aqrab.  “Just how many times
have
you done it, Fury?  You mention
‘getting into the groove’ like you’re an old hat at this.”

She flushed visibly.  “Well, it’s
been awhile, but I wouldn’t mind getting back into practice.”

‘Aqrab did
not
like the
way she said ‘into practice.’  He’d heard ghastly tales of Fury breeding
habits, most of which he had assumed were simply tall tales blown completely
out of proportion.  But the look she was giving him was beginning to make him
wonder.  Warily, he said, “Just how many men have let you ‘practice’ on them,
mon Dhi’b?”  Watching her closely, he added, “And how many survived the
experience?”

Now his magus flushed crimson. 
“I’ve never had a man to practice on.  You’d be the first, you insufferable
ape.”

“You have reset your seven days,”
the Fourth Lands boomed through him.  Once the magic had faded, ‘Aqrab just
peered at her, trying to figure out how she had ‘practiced’ without an actual
man.  He had some morbid ideas, but decided that he best not mention them.  “So
you practiced with your…sisters?” he offered delicately.

She snorted.  “Of course not. 
They thought the act was an abomination.  I hired village women.”

Both of ‘Aqrab’s brows went up at
that.  The things he’d gone three thousand years without knowing…  Clearing his
throat politely, he said, “Then, uh, you prefer women, mon Dhi’b?”

She shrugged.  “As long as it’s
pretty, I don’t really care what I use.  Though it might be fun to try the male
form.  It’s got more…complexity.”

The way she blatantly surveyed
his body like an auctioneer at the block made his hackles raise.  “You know,”
‘Aqrab growled, “it’s not polite to ‘use’ people like that, as you say.”

Reverting back to her superior,
imperious Fury self, she demanded, “Why not?  I paid them well enough.”

‘Aqrab felt his shoulders
tighten.  “Because it’s not a damn business transaction.”

Now she was glaring at him. 
“They were starving in the streets.  They needed the money, and I needed their
bodies.  It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”  She looked him up and down
as if she were inspecting a horse.  “If you’re worried about compensation, I’ll
make it worth your while.  Maybe let you sing a couple of your songs.  Though I
can’t see why you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity, as much as you wave that
thing around.”

BOOK: Alaskan Fury
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