Beginning of Book 9: Making a Point

It was the first weekend in May. Callisto stood on the sidelines of the soccer pitch watching his teammates play on the field. He was on a co-ed team for thirteen-year-olds called The Wolves, and they were currently down two points. Looking over toward the sidelines where his family stood on the grass, he tried not to react when his mom waved at him.

His dad had promised to be there today, but hadn’t shown up yet. Although his father had attended most of his games, this was the one needed to get into the final tournament in two weeks. His team had only lost one game this season, which put them in the running for the top four.

Things had been hectic at the Radley home this spring. His new baby sister was more than a handful, and the plethora of adults who used to have time to spend with him were constantly keeping the little goblin out of trouble. Even Tink lost track of her at times, which was really something. He had heard adults joking about the terrible twos before, but his sister was apparently setting the absolute standard for it.

There was also the fact that Mike was consistently dealing with issues either at the main house or one of his other properties. Last weekend, he had been forced to leave Callisto’s game early because something called a Baykok had made it onto the cabin property and was preying on the Nirumbi. For whatever reason, Aunt Beth had needed his personal assistance, which had irked Callisto.

Recently, the adults in general irritated him. He could only presume it was related to what was likely the end of his prepubescent status. Other centaurs his own age had already gone through some of those changes, but his half-human status had certainly delayed the effect.

Now, though, he was consistently battling his own inner demons on the pettiest of subjects. The rational part of his mind liked to remind him that his elders had lived entire lives packed with experiences he couldn’t fathom. He literally lived with women who were centuries old and had looked after generations of people.

The other part of him believed that they didn’t know anything. He was pretty much an adult anyway, and what did they—

“Heads!” someone yelled, and Callisto and the others on the sidelines ducked as the ball shot through where he had been standing. The centaur, currently in human form, flared his nostrils at the one who had kicked it.

Ashton Maxwell. He was a young man on Callisto’s team. His blond hair was wavy, and he had a smattering of freckles along his cheeks that the girls on the Wolves often whispered to each other about. His father was a producer for some musician’s music videos, and they lived in the wealthy part of town.

“Sorry, Cally.” Ashton smirked and ran back onto the field as a member of the other team, the Tigers, came to throw the ball in.

Ever since Cal’s first day on the team, Ashton had been antagonizing him. Callisto knew that this was, in part, due to the mystery surrounding his own family. Ashton liked to bring up his family’s income every chance he got, and had clearly noticed that Callisto wasn’t impressed in the slightest.

Sure, Ashton’s father could afford a private jet for their summers in the Bahamas on a private island. And yes, some famous boy band that all the girls on the team listened to had played at his birthday party last summer. Ashton’s family was insanely rich, compared to the average person.

But Callisto was a centaur disguised as a human, and he could see a person’s soul. The misery that consistently lingered in Ashton’s spilled free like a noxious gas. On the two occasions that Ashton’s father had come to a game, the man had spent the whole time on the phone. The Maxwells were a family in name only. It was usually his mom who brought him, and the woman always seemed zonked out on tranquilizers.

That rational part of him that recognized his own adolescence was looming also told him that he should pity Ashton. It was clear that Ashton’s behavior was the fault of an upbringing lacking in familial love and boundaries.

The other part of Callisto liked to think that if a big enough tube was shoved down Ashton’s throat, he would legally be considered the world’s largest douchebag. Sadly, this part won, and Callisto was forced to let his emotions simmer as he glared at Ashton, who was now ignoring him to focus on the game.

The next play went out of bounds thirty seconds later, and the coach called for a timeout to send in some subs. Callisto was sent in as Ashton was on his way out. The blond deliberately shoulder-checked him on the way in. Callisto had no idea how the coach didn’t see shit like this, but knew for a fact that his Faerie body guard did.

Before Callisto had joined the soccer team, Mike had spoken at length with the family’s private guard about what constituted the kind of harm that the Fae should be involved in. There was a very real fear that an errant ball that smashed Callisto’s in the nose would cause murderous retaliation.

Callisto wouldn’t mind if the spirit just broke Ashton’s legs a little, or maybe body slammed him. Something other than quietly watching. He hated looking at the thing, so often wished he would get some use out of it.

Before play resumed, he touched the magical band around his bicep that allowed him to hold his human form for up to a day. It was currently in the form of a temporary tribal tattoo. Aunt Ratu’s enchanting skills had improved over the last year, and she had actually learned quite a bit from the home’s recent addition, Tasia, who had a sword that turned into a bracelet.

Now out on the field, he caught a glance from Cassie Evergreen, a girl on his team. They hadn’t spoken more than a few times, but he thought about her more than he probably should these days. Her hair looked soft, and he wondered what her hand would feel like if he held it. Or what it would be like to kiss—

“Go, Cal, go!” Zel screamed, his mother pointing frantically. Callisto had been too busy making eye contact with Cassie to notice that play had resumed.

Sprinting frantically, he had to remember to tone down his athletic abilities, but had covered a third of the field already to catch up to the ball. The girl who currently had it was a striker for the Tigers, and she was likely going to take a shot on the goal.

Callisto threw just a bit of caution to the wind and went wide, then slid in front of her and kicked the ball away. Back on his feet in an instant, he charged toward the opposite goal, deftly weaving between the defenders.

Cassie cheered him on, and he popped the ball into the air, hit it with his forehead, and jumped while twirling sideways to pass between two defenders who had formed a wall. His team cheered, and he managed to intercept the ball where it landed and kick it straight at the other goal.

The ball shot past the goalie, netting his team another point. The closest teammates cheered Callisto on as he ran back toward center field, then gave a big shit-eating grin to Cassie. On the sideline, Ashton was making a face like someone had force-fed him a turd.

“That’s my boy!” Zel yelled, hopping up and down. Next to her, Aunt Lily was also cheering and jumping. Her tight tank top was borderline inappropriate, and more than a few parents were staring at Lily’s boobs as they jiggled. The shirt had the words Being the cool aunt is lame, I’d rather be the hot one in fiery letters.

Down between them, Grace was busy clapping one hand on her knee while staring at Callisto. In her other hand was what appeared to be a big, fat grasshopper, which she promptly popped in her mouth like candy. Hovering invisibly above her was another Fae spirit, diligently watching for trouble.

Damnit, Grace, he thought to himself as a nearby teammate gagged. Trying to ignore his little sister, he did a quick scan of the field to see if his father was among them, maybe even invisibly. Normal humans were weird around his dad, constantly stumbling over themselves to appease or impress him.

Callisto acknowledged that this was probably part of his problem with Ashton. Sure, Ashton’s father had money, but nobody repeatedly accused him of being a famous model or movie star.

Seeing that Mike wasn’t lingering nearby, he let out a sigh and took his position near the center of the field. The referee set the ball in the middle and backed up.

Dad, where the hell are you? Callisto wondered as the other team’s center ran forward and passed the ball to their teammate.

---

The room was a study with three large picture windows that looked out over a distant mountain range. The windows themselves were framed by a massive pair of ornate bookshelves that had been recently oiled and polished. The shelves themselves were adorned with children’s books that had been packed in over the last year. Along one wall was a fireplace that had gone cold sometime in the spring, but was meticulously swept. There was nothing odd about the room itself when seen from the inside, but even a casual observer would realize that something was off. The view of distant islands in a massive lake simply didn’t jive with the fact that this study was not only an interior room, but that the home itself was in the middle of a large neighborhood several miles from any substantial body of water.

The sanctity of this odd magical space was shattered as a gargoyle crashed through the central picture window, slamming into the floor so hard that the boards buckled. From her back leapt Mike Radley, clutching a green toddler to his chest as he sprang free and slid across the polished hardwood until he came to a stop with his feet against the door.

“Tink!” he shouted, and the door of the study was blown apart by gunfire. The man-sized hole in the door revealed a redheaded goblin who stood four feet tall and had small crow’s feet in the corner of her eyes. She stood behind a hastily assembled chaingun that had been bolted to the floor and was stabilized by a crystalline assembly of ice.

A shrieking sound filled the air as feathered creatures swept in. Half woman and half bird, the flock of harpies squawked angrily at the sight of Mike and his child against the opposite wall, their cries swiftly drowned out by the sound of an M242 Bushmaster tearing the room to shreds.

On the floor, Abella cried out in pain, clutching at her ears as she scooted to the side. The harpy swarm, unable to escape, were reduced to blood and feathers in an instant. When Tink let go of the trigger, Yuki ran into the room and scooped up the goblin toddler, who promptly bit her.

“Ow, shit!” She tossed the child to her mother, Tink, then sealed the door with a barrier made of ice. “Get her out of here,” she cried.

Outside, the remaining harpies were busy shrieking in dismay. Mike got up off the floor and ran to the window, magic building in his chest as he pointed his fingers at the harpies like a pistol.

“Scat!” he cried, firing a bolt of lightning at them. That finally scared the beasts off, and the swarm scattered. Scowling at the harpies as they went, he turned to look at Abella, who was being helped to her feet by Yuki.

“You okay?” he asked.

The gargoyle nodded, then joined him at the window with Yuki. “To think that this valley had a harpy population all this time,” she muttered with a faint French accent.

“Well, it’s not like anyone ever came in here before,” he said. In the last year or so, Charlotte the vampyr had actually made this her study. She liked the view and had taken to stocking the shelves with children’s books that she could read to the kids who now lived with the Moon Tribe in his greenhouse. The vampyr had also taken to reading these books to the merfolk, but had most recently been doing storytime with his youngest daughter, Matilda.

Named by his goblin wife after the little girl from a movie she had watched on repeat for the final month of her pregnancy, his daughter was not yet two, yet somehow got into more trouble than the rest of the house combined. Today’s issue was the unlucky result of Matilda breaking into Charlotte’s study to look through her books, unaware that the harpies had been waiting for that exact opportunity.

It hadn’t been hard for the bird-like creatures to lure Matilda to the window and abduct her. What they hadn’t counted on was that Matilda was constantly being shadowed by four troublesome fairies who absolutely adored the chaos she brought, who had immediately informed Mike. Able to track his child with his magic, the only obstacle in his way was his own inability to fly, hence Abella’s involvement.

Staring out the window, Mike shook his head and let out a sigh. Turning to see the mess that was Charlotte’s office, he sent her a mental image of the place, expecting to feel her disappointment through their bond. Instead, she was far too relieved that Matilda was safe to even worry that her special room had been ruined by guts and gunfire.

“What do you think they wanted with her?” Yuki wondered.

“Delicacy,” Abella replied. “Harpies are like bees, and they have a queen. They were taking Matilda to their nest, wherever that is.”

There was a banging sound on the ice wall that Yuki had made. The kitsune dismissed it with a wave of her hand, and Tink came storming in with her modified sniper rifle.

“TINK SHOOT FUCKING BIRD BITCHES!” she screamed, and had to be stopped halfway to the window.

“They’re gone,” Mike told her. The goblin turned her head toward him in slow motion, her eyes practically feral.

“Did Tink kill them all?” she asked in a quiet tone.

“Well, no, some got aw—”

“GOBLIN MURDERING SPREE!” she shouted, and leapt at the window. Mike scooped her up as Yuki took away the gun.

“That’s a later problem,” he said, looking toward the door. Kisa was standing there, holding Matilda tight against her chest. His daughter looked like she was already asleep. “We need to board these windows up so that we can fix the place up.”

“Fuck fixing windows!” she shouted, struggling to get free.

“Which will give us time to plan our revenge,” he added.

The goblin went still in his arms. “Big revenge?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. We can’t really have child-eating harpies lurking around our home, now can we?”

Tink chewed on this thought, then went limp. “Put Tink down,” she commanded. “Need plywood for windows.”

Happy that his goblin wife wasn’t about to leap into the ravine, he complied. She adjusted her dress, nodded at the others, then promptly grabbed Mike’s dick through his pants. “Big gun make Tink horny,” she replied. “Husband share big gun later.”

“Speaking of guns, where the hell did you get that thing?” he asked, gesturing at the Bushmaster.

“Tink took it from US military last winter,” the goblin replied, offering no further explanation as she walked out the door with Kisa. Exasperated, Mike just shook his head and watched her leave. Now that the immediate danger was over, he walked carefully toward the nearest couch with the intention of sitting, but stopped when he saw that it was covered in harpy guts.

Seeing his dilemma, Yuki pulled a tarot card from her pocket and threw it at the ground. When it struck, the paper unfolded into a group of sticks that quickly assembled themselves into a chair.

“You didn’t need to waste a card on me,” he said.

“Minor arcana,” she replied. “Will take me a couple of hours to make a replacement. Besides, you look like you need it.”

“I do. Thank you.” He sat in the chair and placed his face in his hands. Tears of relief ran silently down his cheeks and through his fingers. Typically, true danger came for his family from outside the house. Today was the first time that it had come from within, and he felt an odd sense of violation.

He and others had briefly explored this ravine more than once, yet had never seen the harpies. They all had figured it was an unused pocket world, and had let the issue go. With all the other things that had become normal around his home, it was kind of easy to forget a window that went to a different world.

Abella came up from behind the chair and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, her wings draped lightly over him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, knowing she could easily hear him with her sensitive ears. “For everything.”

“Always,” she replied. Abella had come right away when he had yelled for her, but that now meant that the stairs and part of the hallway were scratched up from her passage. Made completely of stone, her talons had gouged several inch-long grooves into nearly everywhere she had gone in her haste to get to the study.

It was only a minute later when Charlotte appeared in the doorway. The vampyr was wearing an outdoor dress and had mud on her hands and knees. She surveyed the room with dark eyes that scrutinized every detail, then looked at Mike.

“Matilda seemed okay,” she told him. “I just checked on her. Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

Mike chuckled and shook his head. “You were in the middle of something else,” he replied. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I should have secured this room better.” The vampyr moved to the window and looked outside. “Yuki, could you seal these off, please? Tink is coming back up with plywood soon, but I worry that the harpies may return in bigger numbers.”

“Maybe we should let them,” Yuki growled. “They tried to eat one of our own.”

“This is true,” Charlotte admitted. “But if this was only an act of desperation, we shouldn’t punish them for it.”

The vampyr and the kitsune glared daggers at each other, and Yuki finally gave in and summoned a wall of ice to seal off the windows. Something about Charlotte rubbed Yuki the wrong way. Part of this was the fact that the kitsune hated how the vampyr smelled. The rest was likely some sort of internalized hatred of what Charlotte represented, or maybe the fact that the vampyr often acted like a mother figure for everybody in the house, despite her relatively young biological age of nineteen.

“If they are ruled by a Queen, then it’s the Queen we should go after,” Yuki declared, then turned her head in Mike’s direction. “Unless you’d like to marry her, too.”

Mike chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, I think I may have hit my royal limit.” He was technically married to a mermaid princess and the Queen of the Fae. A simulacrum made of magic and a portion of his soul was currently in the Fae Realm as acting King, assisting Titania with her royal duties. No such solution existed for him with Leilani, and the mermaid had voiced her displeasure more than once recently that he wasn’t around as much as she’d like.

“What determines who you marry?” Yuki raised an eyebrow, her tails swishing behind her. “Seems to me that there’s no shortage of candidates around here.”

“I only marry for political advantage,” Mike replied, affecting a slightly British accent.

“Your first wife is a goblin. What were the politics there?”

“She was cute, and I was horny.” There was more to it than that, but it was clear Yuki was just trying to bust his balls.

Yuki snorted. “So how horny do you need to be before you agree to marry me?”

Mike stared at the kitsune, unsure how to answer her. “Well, I mean, um…if that’s something you’re interested in, I think—”

Yuki laughed. “Oh, I’m going to tell the others about this. You’re squirming so hard.” There was a ding from her robes, and she pulled out her phone and frowned at it. “Oh. Zel’s looking for you.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She texted the family chat asking where you were because Callisto’s game is halfway over.”

What?" Mike went to check his own phone, then remembered that he had never taken it with him in the first place. In his hurry to rescue Matilda, his phone was likely still downstairs in the office.

Still, it's not like he doubted Yuki. If she said that there was only half an hour left in Callisto's soccer game, then he needed to get moving.

“Thank you,” he said, then ran toward the door and down the hall to the stairs. His master bedroom was on the top floor, which was now the sixth floor. His magically enhanced stamina meant that he could take the three flights of stairs necessary to get to his bedroom at a run. Built in the original home's sole turret, the back window overlooked what used to be the backyard. Now, it overlooked a massive inner courtyard with a fountain in the middle and an iron gate embedded in a stone wall at the back.

"Naia!" Mike stripped out of his clothes as he moved, tossing the blood-soaked rags onto the bathroom floor. The large bathtub in his bathroom was more like a small pool, or perhaps a large hot tub.

The spigot turned itself on, and a torrent of warm water started to fill the tube.

"Yes, lover?" A watery figure appeared, standing roughly five feet tall. The nymph's translucent appearance solidified as her skin and gown were colored in.

"I need to get clean," Mike declared. "Callisto's game is going to be over soon."

"So a quickie, then?" Naia smirked at him as he stepped into the tub. The water was only an inch deep already. Given a couple of minutes, Naia could have the whole tube filled if she wanted. The sole limitation was how much pressure the spigot could handle.

"Yes, please."

Naia leapt into his arms, her body transforming into hot water the moment they made contact. Mike closed his eyes and let the powerful current churn over his skin, washing away the gore of his earlier adventure.

He also couldn't help but notice that Naia was paying extra attention to his cock and balls. Powerful suction manifested on the tip of his dick, and he groaned as Naia used her water to form a mouth which sucked on him.

"All done," Naia declared in his ear, and the water fell away. He stood in the mostly empty tub now with a massive erection.

"You did that on purpose," he said.

"I do everything on purpose," she replied from the drain, then giggled. "Cheer Callisto on for me!"

Mike stepped out of the tub, the lingering water on his skin magically yanked back into the basin, leaving him dry. The only difficulty in getting dressed now was trying to pull his pants over his large hardon. His cock had been considered larger than average back before inheriting a magical home and soul swapping with a nymph. He was fairly certain it had gotten even bigger, but had no way of knowing for sure.

Kisa appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, a shirt and pants already in hand. "Socks are on the bed and shoes are by the front door."

"Thanks." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and slid into his pants, then allowed Kisa to pull the shirt down over his head. Grabbing his socks, he stepped out into the hallway and looked over the railing to see Charlotte already waiting for him below.

The vampyr looked up at him with a grin as he vaulted the railing and fell six stories to the main floor. With not even a grunt, Charlotte caught him in a princess carry, then set him on the floor.

"My hero," he said. "Wanna come with?"

"Naturally." The vampyr opened the front door of the house and waited for him to put on his socks and shoes. Once outside, they started jogging. From the front porch to the sidewalk, it was roughly a quarter of a mile now. Or maybe a half. Tink could tell him exactly, but now wasn't the time to wonder.

Charlotte and Mike ran toward a small copse of trees on the edge of the yard. Planted there last year, they had been magically grown with the help of Amymone, the resident dryad.

Lacking a car, the Radley family relied on magic for most forms of transportation. Many of its residents couldn't go out in public anyway. They did keep a private driver on retainer, who had already taken the others to Callisto's game, which was twenty minutes away.

Mike greeted the trees mentally, then gave them a psychic image of where he wanted to go. Taking Charlotte by the hand, he stepped between the trees and was instantly transported to the soccer park where Bigfoot had helped him plant a couple of trees like these for just this purpose.

There was an irritated chiming from behind him. Mike looked back to see that a member of his Fae guard had chased him through the portal. While he didn't allow them in the house, their main responsibility was to travel with family members who actually left the property. Otherwise, they guarded the main property along with the gargoyles, centaur, and jabberwock.

The home was regularly harassed by curiosity seekers, nosy neighbors, and the occasional asshole who dropped by to cause trouble. The Fae Guard liked to drop troublemakers straight into the court of the Fae Queen if they proved to be too much trouble. Titania had gifted him a statue of a warlock three months ago. That man had refused to divulge who had sent him or why he was there, so the Fae Queen had immortalized him in stone while leaving his mind intact.

Mike had bought the kids some sidewalk chalk so they could color him in. After a year or so, Titania would turn the man back to flesh and repeat her question, to see if he was more willing to talk.

"Which field are they on?" asked Charlotte. She was wearing a sundress now.

"When did you put that on?" he asked.

"Just now." Charlotte grabbed the hem of the dress and lifted it just long enough for Mike to see a flash of red. "I can show you more later, if you like."

"Yes, I would. Please subject yourself to a full examination—there he is!" Mike had felt along the bond he shared with Lily and Zel and now saw them on the far side of the field. "Try to run like a normal person."

Charlotte giggled and the two of them jogged at what Mike felt was a reasonable rate. The vampyr at his side was fast enough that she could easily cross the field in a couple of seconds, which would make an Olympian look like a drunken toddler.

Lily noticed him first. She elbowed Zel, and then both of them waved. Down below them, Grace looked up at her father and tried to wander onto the soccer field to greet him, only to be held back by Lily at the last moment.

Going around the game itself, Mike greeted the others with hugs. They had agreed in advance that open affection was likely to create questions that might cause issues for Callisto.

The whole reason his son was currently playing soccer was due to the fact that he no longer felt like part of the herd. Ever since the Unseelie had caused the disappearance of numerous members, his son had become an outcast among his own kind.

Sadly, Callisto's desire to be part of a group wasn't satisfied by the occupants of his home. Almost everybody there was an adult. After numerous requests for an activity where he could participate with kids his own age, they had settled on soccer.

It had been hard enough to find a team that wasn't super competitive at his son's age. Callisto's centaur body was much faster and stronger than a human's, and it would be easy enough for him to get carried away and absolutely destroy the other kids on the field. Naturally, the solution had been the Wolves, who prided themselves on playing for fun.

Even so, there were far too many parents on the team who seemed to believe that playing for fun actually meant destroying the other team and salting the fields on their way out.

A few parents looked Mike's way, and then their faces went blank as their attention wandered. Mike was using Kisa's ability to blend into the background to avoid being noticed. It wasn't true invisibility. Rather, people simply forgot he was there.

"How is he doing?" Mike asked Zel. Callisto was currently on the sidelines, beaming at Mike.

"He scored a goal earlier," Lily said.

"But he was also a bit flashy about it." Zel sounded both happy and irritated. A quick look at her soul revealed that it was just worry that she felt.

Lily sighed. "It was flashy, but a normal amount. The other kids thought it was cool. Nobody suspected a thing."

A cursory examination of the gathered crowd showed Mike that nobody was remotely paying his family any attention. Even a quick sweep of their souls just showed the usual noise. If anyone here was harboring magical powers or ill intentions, Mike was unaware of it.

Well, almost. A few of the kids playing didn't seem to like his son very much. For some reason, one boy in particular was really mad at Callisto. Strangely, this boy was on Callisto's own team.

Kids were weird. As he had this thought, Mike looked down to see his daughter trying to munch on another grasshopper she had caught.

"Grace. What did we say about eating grasshoppers?"

The Arachne, currently in her human form, stared up at her father, then looked at the grasshopper in her hand.

"Share?" she asked, holding up the bug on an open palm. It leapt away, disappearing into the grass.

"No eating soccer grasshoppers. Or soccer bugs. Or?"

"Soccer birds." Grace's human eyes flicked in the direction of a small bird that swooped overhead.

"Good girl." He smiled at his daughter, then noticed that Callisto was being swapped back in. "Let's go!" he shouted.

The centaur smiled at his father, then turned a laser-like focus onto the field. He didn't even seem to notice his teammate glaring daggers at the back of his head.

When the whistle blew, Callisto was off like a shot.

---

Callisto's heart pumped wildly in his chest as he charged the ball. The girl on the other team getting ready to kick it took one look at his face and panicked, then tried to kick it up into the air and away from him.

The centaur launched himself into the air and used his forehead to knock the ball back to earth, then immediately dribbled past the next defender. From the sidelines, Mike cheered for his kid, causing Callisto's heart to swell.

"Pass it!" shouted Ashton from right behind him. Callisto looked back and scowled. There was no strategic advantage in passing the ball to anyone else, especially backward to Ashton. The centaur sprinted toward the goalie, who had put out their hands in preparation. He could see the whites of their eyes as he kicked the ball so hard that it curved in midair, spiraling into the upper corner of the goal.

Callisto never saw it go in. He had slowed down after the kick, allowing Ashton to smash into him from behind. Cheers from the sideline became shouts of dismay as the two boys went down together in the dirt.

"Fucking ball hog," Ashton grunted, then stealthily gut punched Callisto as he stood up. Callisto held his stomach as the referee and the coach jogged out onto the field.

"You okay, Ashton?" Coach Terry knelt down to check on the blond boy.

"Yeah. Callisto got in my way is all." Ashton smirked at the centaur. "I didn't expect him to stop so suddenly."

Coach Terry brushed imaginary dust off of Ashton and nodded. "Way to be tough." He looked at Callisto. "You good?"

Callisto tried not to glare at the man. Coach Terry was nice enough, but he was absolutely dazzled by Ashton's father. On more than one occasion, Ashton had gotten some form of preferential treatment.

That, and supposedly the end of year team party was going to be at Ashton's mansion. The other kids talked about it all the time. They were excited because Ashton had a pool.

"I'm fine, coach. Was too busy scoring a goal."

Ashton glared at him past Terry, who didn't see it.

"Right, good job. Just remember it's not about if we win or lose--"

"Yeah, yeah," both boys said as they walked back to the center line. Callisto looked over at his family to see his father giving him a goofy thumbs up. By his side, Charlotte was glaring hard at Ashton, and so was Lily. The two of them were perfectly capable of hearing what Ashton had said.

"So Cally. I have a question for you." When Ashton spoke, Callisto could actually hear the grin in his voice.

"Good for you," Callisto replied.

"Is your sister retarded?"

"Huh?" Callisto actually turned to look at his sister. Lily and Charlotte had both gone still, and his dad had clearly noticed.

"Must run in the family, so I'll repeat myself. I saw her eating bugs earlier. Is she retarded?"

Callisto realized his fists were balled at his side and was about to turn around and say something when he caught his father's eye. His parents both shook their heads at him, clearly realizing that Ashton was trying to start a fight.

"C'mon, hustle!" Coach Terry shouted, and both Callisto and Ashton jogged the rest of the way back to the center line. Some of the Tigers were glaring daggers at Callisto. He was now the one to watch.

Sighing, Callisto took his place and decided to dial back his abilities. He had scored two goals already, and Cassie, who was on defense, was giving him a huge smile. His dad had made it in time to see him score a goal. Today was already a win as far as he was concerned.

He planned to just coast through the rest of the game. Honestly, more than half of the fun for him was just running back and forth with other kids.

The whistle blew, and the center passed the ball to Callisto. He dribbled it forward and passed it to Ashton. who immediately lost possession of the ball to an aggressive striker on the other team. Cassie intercepted, then kicked the ball toward Callisto.

Callisto caught the ball on his chest, and immediately noticed that he was surrounded by defenders. Timing a shot between another kid's legs, he passed to a kid named Ronaldo.

Ronaldo took off down the field, but tried to score a goal far too early. The slow-moving ball was picked up by the Tiger's goalie, who took two steps and booted the ball to midfield.

Ashton caught it before it hit center field, then dribbled along the edge of the field. Parents were shouting encouragement at him as he dodged one defender, but then he hit a wall of Tigers.

Out of options, Ashton kicked the ball out of bounds. This was a valid defensive strategy, but Callisto could only watch in horror as the ball rocketed toward his sister's head.

Grace didn't even look up as she raised a hand and caught the ball. She dropped the grasshopper she was holding and studied the ball, then looked up at the boy who kicked it.

"My bad," Ashton said.

The Tiger's coach waved at the ref. "Subs," she called, then swapped out several of her players.

"Subs!" Coach Terry listed off several names, and Callisto jogged off the field, followed by Ashton and Cassie. They lined up with the other members of the team and watched as the fresh players got into position.

"I can't believe your sister caught that," Cassie said to him. "Maybe she should be in goal."

Ashton snorted. "Retards, man. God gives them extra skills to make up for all that brain damage they got."

"Excuse me?" Cassie sounded properly mortified. "You can't just say that."

"Don’t be mad at me. I'm just calling it like it is," he replied, then laughed. Across the field, the referee was trying to talk Grace into giving the ball back. She was clutching it possessively against her chest and staring directly at Ashton.

It only took a moment longer for Callisto to properly process what had just happened. He glared at Ashton as the pieces came together in his head. "You kicked the ball at my sister on purpose."

Ashton shrugged, but the smirk on his face told the real story. "Hey. I was just trying to play soccer. She shouldn't sit that close to the field if she's not paying attention."

"Ashton!" Cassie put a hand over her mouth. Nearby, two other players shifted away from the trio, clearly uncomfortable.

"Even if I did do it on purpose, what now?" Ashton smirked. "You gonna do something about it?"

Callisto looked across the field again. Mike had successfully retrieved the ball from Grace, and now several parents were staring at him in awe, suddenly aware of his arrival. Charlotte's brow was furrowed in disgust, her eyes on Ashton.

Lily, however, was looking at Callisto. She had an eyebrow raised as if to ask "Well? Are you going to do something about it?"

Callisto licked his lips and clenched his fists. Right now, soccer was the only thing he had that was just for him. It was no proper replacement for the tribe, but...well...

His eyes moved to Ashton's family. His father was almost never there. It was usually just his mother and their driver. Ashton's mother looked tired all the time, her face frozen in a neutral expression because of something called Botox. She seemed like a nice enough lady, at least from the outside.

"Since we're asking questions about each other's families, I have one for you." Callisto tilted his head vaguely in Ashton's direction. "What does your mom's tit taste like?"

Cassie gasped. Ashton went still.

"Excuse me?" Ashton's voice cracked just a little bit. "Is that really the best you have?"

"I only ask because it's obvious you still breast feed." Callisto looked away from Ashton and toward Cassie. "Last week, she wore a sundress, and you could tell one boob was much smaller than the other. That one is clearly his favorite, drained it right down to the bone."

Ashton grabbed Callisto by the jersey and spun him around. "My mom had breast cancer, asshole! She had a mastectomy!"

Other grownups were now looking their way. Callisto saw Lily nod at him from the corner of his eye and he grinned.

"I guess that explains why your breath always smells so bad," was all Callisto managed before Ashton punched him in the face.

Both boys fell to the ground. Callisto kept his hands up to cover his face, thus allowing Ashton to pummel him. When it became clear that none of his blows were landing, Ashton stood halfway up and tried to stomp on Callisto's crotch.

The centaur's foot kicked out, catching Ashton square in the mouth and flipping him onto his back. He let out a gurgling cry, and then several adults were there. Callisto was overwhelmed by all the shouting, then winced when somebody screamed.

It was Ashton. He was holding a hand in front of his mouth and had spat out several teeth already.

Aunt Lily knelt at his side, then helped him to his feet. "He had it coming," she whispered, and then his mother was there.

There was no missing the look of disappointment in both of his parents' faces as he was quickly removed from the soccer pitch. They didn't bother waiting for the family driver. His dad took them directly through their tree shortcut and back to the house. There was a lot of shouting after they arrived which ended with Callisto going to his room while the adults discussed his punishment.

Sulking, all he had to hold onto for comfort was Aunt Lily's words.

Yes, he should have just ignored Ashton. Yes, he definitely shouldn't have drawn attention to the family. The only reason Ashton was holding his teeth in a plastic cup in some dentist's office right now was because he was a child who had grown up in a world without consequences.

Callisto's window opened and Grace squeezed inside. She dropped down onto Callisto's bed and held up a pack of cookies which she had obviously stolen from the pantry.

"Not retarded," she said defiantly, handing over the treat.

"Thanks." Callisto opened the box and saw there were only a couple of cookies left. A summary inspection of his sister revealed chocolate chip crumbs all across the front of her shirt. Smiling, he took both cookies out and offered one to his sister which she accepted.

People could say what they wanted about him. But his sister? She was off limits.

---

Mike was in the courtyard sitting just inside of Naia's fountain, his back resting against the wall. He was currently naked, the water bubbling around him like he was sitting in a hot tub.

Deeper in the fountain was Zel. She had returned to her centaur form and was standing in the part of the fountain that was almost six feet deep.

Naia's fountain had been small and almost non-functional when Mike had first discovered it. Over the years, it had gone through subtle changes while slowly expanding.

However, when Mike had acquired the Conqueror mantle from Genghis Khan and then brought home Camelot and the other Conqueror properties, the fountain had gone through its most drastic transformation. Now the size of a small lake, the center of the fountain no longer contained multiple marble basins. Instead, an offshoot of Amymone's tree grew on a small island decorated with marble tiers that were designed to hug the side of the tree. Birds sang and bathed in its waters as the dryad Amymone hung from a nearby loop of vines, her fingers tapping rapidly at the screen of a waterproof ereader. While she typically enjoyed the pages of a real book, the birds often splashed too much and got them wet.

The water around the island itself was almost twelve feet deep. Mike wondered if the home continued to expand would Naia become her very own Lady of the Lake? The nymph was currently on the island, crooning softly to the birds, some of which were chirping happily on top of her head. Unable to walk on dry land, the nymph's form was being fed by tiny tendrils of water that stretched from the various basins. If they were to be blocked, her consciousness would slip back into the larger body of water. This was a game the children sometimes played with her.

"I think soccer may have been a bad idea," Zel said. "What happened today was the perfect example of why. He's a centaur, Mike. He belongs with his family or his own kind. The human world simply isn't safe."

Mike nodded, but not out of agreement. "Those are valid points, Zel. Has the tribe forgiven him yet?"

At this, Zel's head drooped. She flicked the water at her waist, then let out a sigh. "No," she replied. "People who like to say that elephants never forget have never met centaurs. I mean, maybe they've forgiven him, but they certainly haven't forgotten. He is not treated poorly, but he isn't treated warmly, either."

This was a discussion they had had numerous times, and the result was always the same. Mike could argue that he thought what they were doing was at least an attempt at helping their son, but the easiest way to make his point was always to ask about the centaurs. Sure, soccer now seemed like a poor idea in hindsight, but he would rather at least try to help his kid than do nothing at all. Callisto was practically stagnating surrounded only by adults. They had tried to get Callisto more involved with the recent infusion of humans from Avalon, but that group had befriended the centaurs quickly and, because of their own circumstances, had quickly sided with local thinking.

No, his poor kid was not welcome amongst his own kind, and that was unlikely to change anytime soon. As long as this was the case, it was easier to keep Zel focused on solutions rather than allow her to dwell on potential failures.

"I think it was fine." Lily sat with her back against the fountain. "I think Charlotte would agree with me."

Zel narrowed her eyes at the succubus. "You'll have to excuse me if I want more from my son than you do."

Charlotte sat nearby, her dainty feet kicking in the water. She was still in her sundress from earlier. Whenever the vampyr spoke, it was with a soft affectation, a long-time habit she had picked up from over a century of mothering an entire village of people. "That other child was speaking rather crudely," she added. "While it's okay to expect better of your own, I would like to remind everyone that Callisto is still a child, and susceptible to his own feelings. He holds heavier burdens than others, and we have to expect mistakes to be made. It is how we grow."

Zel sighed. "I suppose you're right," she admitted.

"Hey." Lily turned around and leaned against the fountain's edge, which caused her boobs to nearly spill free of her tank top. "That's almost exactly what I said! How come it's fine when she says it?"

Zel rolled her eyes. "Aside from all of the obvious reasons? That absolutely was not the same thing you said."

Lily stuck out her tongue. "Hey, I'm just speaking efficiently. Vampirella here has to use all those extra words so she doesn't slip and cut her tongue on those teeth of hers."

Charlotte, with uncanny speed, promptly grabbed Lily by the back of her neck and threw her into the fountain. The succubus made a brief show of dramatic drowning, then sunk to the bottom of the fountain.

"Now that the cool aunt is gone, let us focus on the problem at hand." Charlotte looked at Mike. "Do you want Callisto to keep playing soccer?"

Mike shrugged. "I think that's a decision we should include Callisto in. He probably wants to keep playing, but the season is almost over anyway." He didn't even know if the Wolves had won their game, as play had been suspended because of the fight. "I already have a text from Coach Taylor--"

"Terry," Charlotte corrected. "Taylor is the tailor, and so is his daughter."

Mike laughed. One of the first things he had done after bringing the villagers back to Earth was give them a book of baby names. "Right, Coach Terry. He said that Callisto was still welcome on the team, as it was clearly an act of self-defense. We can't really blame him for trying to protect himself from that Asher kid."

"Ashton," Charlotte corrected.

"Damn it," Mike muttered. "There are too many characters in this story. I'm starting to lose track of who is who."

"Well, what about this Ashton? Is he still welcome on the team?" Zel crossed her arms. "I'm not blind to the fact that he did assault my son. If I could, I'd drag him out into the wild and trample him. My bigger concern is about the potential danger we're putting him in by allowing him to participate in human society when it feels like we have too many enemies out to get us."

Mike nodded. That was a debate they had already had multiple times. Sadly, what Callisto needed couldn't be found within the safety of his home. Long term, keeping Callisto on lockdown was only going to breed the sort of resentment that would become a far greater danger for those under Mike's care. They had plenty of enemies who would be more than happy to try and tempt Callisto away from the family and bend him to their desires.

If not for the Fae Guard, Mike wouldn't have allowed it. But if they couldn't be safe with demi-gods and Fae creatures who could turn you to sand with the touch of a hand, where would you be safe?

"I did ask about the other kid. Coach Terry's answer was evasive. Something about how both sides were at fault, and it would be up to Ashton's family if he played next week. Apparently he lost both front teeth and cracked another one, so he might stay away for the rest of this season."

"Both sides?" Zel snorted. "I thought you said that the coach acknowledged it was self defense."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too." Terry's tone had abruptly changed during their brief conversation earlier. Mike suspected that the Ashton family's wealth had something to do with that. "So it's highly unlikely we will know for sure unless we go to practice."

Zel shook her head and started walking toward the edge of the fountain. "I hate this," she said as she stepped out of the fountain. Charlotte offered her a towel. "What's the right thing to do?"

"Sometimes there is no right thing," Charlotte said. "As parents, you have to remember that you can make mistakes, too. What's important is that you learn from them."

Zel shook her head. "I'm worried that we'll catch the attention of those who wish us harm. If I could be assured that nothing like that would happen again..."

"Then maybe that's the boundary we need to set." Mike turned around to look at Zel. "Let's maintain our current course, but let Callisto know that anything else that draws attention to him will be our limit."

Zel dried her hair, which gave Mike a great opportunity to stare at her bare chest. Sure, he was actually allowed to do this whenever he wanted, but it was more fun when it felt like he was being sneaky about it. When the towel came down, Zel moved to the fountain's edge and knelt down to kiss him on the lips.

"Have him drop by the village tomorrow morning and I'll tell him our decision," she said.

"You're not staying for dinner?" he asked.

"I am not. I take too much time away from the tribe as it is, and have heard rumblings that maybe I'm not the best fit to be chief anymore." Zel smiled weakly. "But that's a problem of my own to deal with."

"Zel." Mike stood, ready to march down to the village and set everybody straight, but she waved him off.

"I'm not about to be deposed," she said. "But it is something I have to fix myself. I'll see you later."

Charlotte handed Zel her vest, which she put on. The centaur bid farewell to Naia and Amymone. The former came to the fountain's edge for a hug. The latter just waved dismissively without looking up from her book.

With the hard conversation over, Mike leaned back against the wall of the fountain and sighed, his eyes on the sky above. Along the edge of the roof, a couple of gargoyles lurked. One of them was Slade, who gave Mike two thumbs up.

"You're doing the right thing, boss," the gargoyle called down.

"Thanks," Mike replied. Charlotte moved behind him and started rubbing his shoulders.

"You're carrying too much stress in your shoulders," she told him.

"Yeah. Being a parent is hard." He had no idea how normal people did it. Mike had the help of so many other people, magical powers, and essentially limitless wealth, and he still felt like he had no idea what he was doing.

Charlotte squeezed his shoulders, and he felt his muscles melt. Through their direct link, the vampyr was uniquely qualified to target the parts of him that held all that unseen tension.

As Charlotte worked his shoulders, Naia drifted over and sank down into the water. She giggled at him and placed her hands on his ankles. "Did somebody order up some stress relief?" she asked as her hands slid along his inner thighs. At her touch, he felt himself grow hard under the water.

"Maybeeeeee..." Mike cast his glance toward the house. "Where are the kids?"

From up above, Abella cleared her throat. "Callisto is in his room with Grace eating the cookies she stole for him."

"Matilda?"

"She and Tink are taking a nap on your bed with Kisa."

Naia's hand grasped the base of his cock, and he shivered. Tink likely wouldn't need help with the baby, and with the other two preoccupied, well...

"I suppose we could sneak in a little something before dinner," Mike replied. Naia winked at him, then disappeared under the surface of the water, her blue hair swaying like seaweed as she sucked him into her mouth.

"No fair," Charlotte whispered in his ear. "I was trying to seduce you first."

A short distance away, the water bubbled ominously, and Lily bobbed to the surface. She was completely naked now, save for a pair of inflatable water wings.

"Did somebody say seduction?" she asked.

"I saw him first." Charlotte bared her fangs at Lily and hissed.

"Ladies, ladies, please. There's enough for all three of you." His eyes slid over to where Amymone sat. Without looking away from her book, she nodded, acknowledging that she had no intention to participate.

Lily doggy paddled toward him, then crawled once the surface of the fountain was beneath her. She got close, then scowled.

"Where am I supposed to fit?" she demanded. Naia's rear end emerged from the water, glistening under the late afternoon light.

"Looks like you've got your answer," Mike replied.

"Fuck it. Can't always be the meat," Lily muttered as she buried her face between Naia's butt cheeks. The nymph lacked a digestive track, and therefore had no butthole. Instead, her long labia stretched back to where it should have been. The succubus grabbed onto Naia's butt with both hands and feasted properly.

"Oh." Charlotte stopped massaging him and stared at the erotic sight.

"You okay?" he asked.

"It's still so...startling." Charlotte, despite living for over a hundred years, had never really seen one woman with another. Her sexual upbringing had been extremely sheltered, and any sort of activity that included sapphic action made her nervous. It wasn't disdain, by any means, but the by-product of a different era where such things had been expressly forbidden.

In short, she was sheltered, and couldn't figure out if the idea itself was actually arousing. Her bond with Mike actually complicated this, because he absolutely enjoyed the sight of two women together, especially when he got to participate. So many conflicting emotions made for a very confusing mindset.

"You don't have to," he said, then reached back and put a hand on hers. "You can just keep doing this."

"But...they're doing that, and..." Again, through their bond, he could feel her hesitation. She wanted to participate, but was far too nervous.

Parenthood? Extremely hard. Finding a way to placate a socially awkward vampyr? That was Mike's wheelhouse.

"What if, instead of doing something like that, I let you feed?" Mike bared his neck at her. "It's only fair, after all. Everybody else is having a snack but you."

Charlotte practically moaned in his ear, the sight of his freely offered neck sending pulses of hunger, pleasure, and adoration through their bond.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I wanted to...please you."

"We can share our bodies later," Mike replied. "It would make me happy to see you properly fed and cared for."

While Charlotte's typical diet consisted of animal blood, Mike tried to give her a special meal at least once a month. It not only strengthened their bond, but allowed Charlotte greater control over her own abilities.

Charlotte revealed her fangs, then sank them into his neck. He barely felt it, but did feel the slight shift in his blood pressure as she drank from him.

"Go slow," he moaned. "Feel my own pleasure through our bond."

<Okay,> she communicated psychically. Mike rolled his eyes and relaxed, enjoying the suction on the head of his cock. Charlotte moaned inside of his mind, which only added to the eroticism of the moment.

His magic swirled around them, forming tiny golden grains of sand. It did this sometimes, and Mike had no idea why. The divine magic flowing through him had been greatly diminished by the act of creating King Mike, so this development had been beyond surprising. Ratu's theory was that the remaining divinity was somehow more refined, sort of like how panning for gold removed the surface muck and left the heavier gold nuggets behind.

However, none of that mattered now. He was currently getting his dick sucked while watching Lily eat out Naia while Charlotte gave him the kind of hickey he could climax to. He wrapped his hands around the top of Naia's head, his fingers tangling with her hair as he pulled her deeper.

"Oh, now this is special," Naia said, her voice coming from bubbles that popped up from the water. "What would we even call this?"

Lily lifted her face from Naia's ass. "Cold cut combo?" she suggested with a grin. A tendril of water shoved the succubus back into place, and she paused just long enough to blow a raspberry on Naia's ass before getting back to work.

Mike's whole body became hot, his magic swirling around all three women and touching them in different ways. In Charlotte's case, it helped to feed her hunger. With Naia, it was resonating with a power similar to its own. For Lily, it was almost combative, teasing the succubus until she couldn’t resist any longer and moaned. The same watery tendril from before had penetrated the succubus from behind, helping to pin all of them together.

Naia teased Mike's ass with the tip of her finger, casually pressing against his anus in a way that had him tilting his hips. Through their bond, Charlotte felt something similar, and actually paused.

<Is that...okay?> she asked.

<Do you like it?> he replied.

<Maybe,> Charlotte admitted. <I don't know yet.>

<Just remember that it's my body, you can always—> Mike groaned as the exploratory fingertips sank beyond the fleshy ring of his ass, then firmly pressed against his prostate.

More than once, Mike had wondered if this was actually the physical location that his magic slept in. While Ratu had been quick to discount his theory, that didn't mean further experimentation hadn't been in order. Right now, as Naia massaged him from the inside while sucking him from outside, it felt like his whole body was vibrating.

Charlotte moaned into his neck, her own pleasure filling his mind through their bond. The golden thread connecting them that only he could see pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Gasping for air, he became light-headed as his blood pressure dropped even further. It now felt like he was floating, his vision going dark around the edges as Naia and Charlotte attempted to drain fluids from opposite sides of his body.

A heavy feeling pressed against the base of his spine, and Mike let out a long, loud moan as Naia coaxed a massive load out of him. Thick ropes of cum blasted out of him and down the nymph's throat just as Charlotte let out a cry and had an orgasm of her own. The vampyr collapsed against Mike as Naia slurped down his spooge and lifted her head out of the water.

"Wait for it," she said, her whole body turning translucent to reveal shimmering strands of glop that traveled through her watery form and into Lily's mouth. The succubus slurped it down and pulled her face out of the nymph's ass.

"Shishka-Mike," she declared, smacking her lips enthusiastically. Lily slapped Naia on the ass. "Thanks for the assist, you watery tart."

Naia giggled and disappeared into the fountain. Mike lay on the edge, gasping for breath as his magic worked to not only regenerate blood, but potentially restore his erection. Lily was already trying to crawl into his lap.

"Okay, Romeo. Round two, just me and--" There was a loud splash, and both of them were soaked by a wave of water. Lily turned around to see that Abella had joined them, her granite cheeks flushed with desire.

"Room for one more?" she asked.

"Two more," Amymone corrected. She had set her book down and slid out of her dress made of green leaves. "I just finished my chapter."

Lily gazed deep into Mike's eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. "I hate sharing," she muttered.

Mike laughed, all the tension from earlier officially gone. Being a parent was hard, that was true. Keeping a menagerie of horny women happy? Way easier.

Charlotte groaned from behind him as if drunk off his blood. She crawled toward the nearest chair to try and sleep it off as Lily and Abella had a thumb-war over who got to fuck him first.

It was a special kind of peace. He really hoped nothing came along to fuck it up.

---

Sarah clung to her broomstick, the cold, Arctic air ripping at her cloak. She gritted her teeth through the chill, her eyes focused on the figure ahead of her as she disappeared through a cloud. Ice crystals flaked away from the tip of her broomstick and fell to the dark sea below as Sarah followed the Collector into the clouds.

Shivering, Sarah gripped the broomstick even tighter, then took a deep breath and pulled warmth from the air and transformed it into a warming heat. Her stomach clenched as the water vapor around her turned into ice and she dropped roughly fifty feet before regaining control of her broom.

Ahead of her, she could hear the Collector's cackle. Of course that old bitch thought it was funny. She had been riding brooms since before airplanes had been invented, and had refused to step inside of any kind of aircraft. Ever pragmatic, the Collector felt like too much could go wrong in a plane, which meant there was only ever one way to get from one place to another.

That, and if Sarah was being honest, it was probably the only way that bitch got any action between her legs.

"Somebody is moody," shouted the Collector from right behind Sarah, causing her grip to slip on her broomstick. Though the woman couldn't read minds, she was absolutely able to pick up surface vibes from other people. However, Sarah sometimes wondered if she actually could read thoughts and just chose to ignore what people were thinking.

A shadowy tendril wrapped itself around Sarah's shoulders and squeezed. It was meant to be a reassuring hug, but Sarah felt the anger within it. It was her mother's wrath, partially directed at the Collector with the rest at her current situation. When Elizabeth had died, her primal connection with shadow magic had allowed her to graft her soul onto Sarah's shadow, thus preventing her from going immediately to Hell to honor the bargain she had struck with a demon so many centuries ago.

Sarah couldn't blame her. Her desperation to avoid a similar fate had resulted in her own soul occupying a Phoenix tear for over a year. For both her and her mother, they had hoped to gain enough power to renegotiate the terms of their contract someday, to offer up an alternative that would avoid eternal damnation.

Sadly, a freely given soul was an extremely valuable commodity. Sarah had tried negotiating a deal with Legion, but that fucker had claimed it wasn't able to hand over any of the souls it had collected. She didn't know if it was lying, or simply didn't care for their plight.

"We're almost there, child." The Collector was sitting side saddle on her broom, drinking from a thermos with hot soup inside. Sarah hated it when she was called a child, but was forced to put up with it. "Be ready for a stealthy descent."

"Yes, mistress." The title wasn't just a sign of respect. Shortly after arriving in Hawaii, the Collector had declared that Sarah's potential was underutilized and had given the woman a choice. She could accede to being an apprentice, or the Collector would find a different witch willing to learn, then use Sarah's new body as spare parts for that woman's training.

She had no reason to doubt this was within the Collector's abilities. Stitching people back together was the Curator's specialty, and he had learned his craft from the Collector.

Yes, the two were related somehow, but Sarah was afraid to ask for specifics. The Curator had made it clear early on that they weren’t biologically related, yet the Collector portrayed their relationship quite differently. The old witch had hinted at it more than once in mixed company, but it had felt more like childish goading. Sarah’s curiosity demanded that she ask the Collector about it, but there would be a price to pay.

Whatever that price may be, it would definitely be too high.

Together, they dropped out of the clouds. Down below was a mountainous island covered in permafrost. Colorful houses dotted the landscape not too far from the coast, which was inundated with boats. Sarah frowned at the sight, wondering what on Earth they could even be looking for out here.

What made this trip far more sinister was that the Collector hadn't called on any of her clones to come do this for her. Ever cautious, the woman typically used one of her golem-clones to do anything remotely dangerous. However, she had declared that this particular mission was actually very dangerous, which somehow warranted she go in person along with Sarah's help.

She and Sarah had left Maui almost twelve hours ago and had flown over a good portion of the Arctic to get here. Forced to dodge military installations and the occasional storm spirit, they were finally at their destination for whatever reason.

"Low clouds today," the Collector mused as they flew directly over a road that went out of town and toward a distant building built into the mountainside. They landed roughly half a mile short, their feet crunching in the snow.

"Hmm." The Collector knelt down and grabbed a handful of ice, then crunched it in her mouth. "Darn. No polar bears nearby."

"What do we need a polar bear for?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing. I just like to pet them." The Collector made pawing motions with her hand. "Sure, I have to make them hold still with magic, but you'll never pet anything so soft, yet...visceral."

"What about a tiger?"

"Hmm." The Collector tilted her head to one side in contemplation. "Honestly, it's an apt comparison. I wonder if it's the hollow nature of a polar bear's fur that gives it such a unique feel."

At times, Sarah wondered if the Collector was crazy. Perhaps this woman had discovered universal truths so violent that she had gone mad with knowledge. She was unpredictable, unlike the Curator. At least with the Curator, he didn't play mindgames. He was always direct with his thoughts.

"Want some?" The Collector held out a handful of ice that was stained a crimson color.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

The Collector held up a small bottle of cherry syrup. "A snowcone. Permafrost has a specific crunch to it that's quite enjoyable."

Sarah shook her head. "No thanks."

"I don't understand why witches today choose to be so miserable." The Collector bit into her snowcone and crunched on the ice. "When I was your age, I would dance naked in the rain just because I could. It didn't have to be for the purpose of summoning a devil or whatever."

Ah, yes. Yet another conversation loop Sarah was tired of hearing. She got to listen to a monologue on modern witch culture as the two of them walked the last half-a-mile to the rectangular structure.

The ice they were standing on was just a small chunk of what remained of the permafrost. The terrain was rocky otherwise, and they walked the remaining distance on a small, mostly paved road. When they got to their destination, Sarah frowned.

"Svalbard  Global Seed Vault? What are we doing here?"

"What's the matter? Afraid of plants?"

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "The last plant I tangled with ate me."

The Collector chuckled and gave the broom in her hand a good shake. It transformed into a wooden cane. "Being digested alive is a rite of passage for the most powerful witches, you know. You're right up there with myself, and..."

"And?" Sarah tried to keep the curiosity from leeching into her voice.

"And...and...huh." The Collector turned to look at Sarah. "If there are any witches with power like mine still around, I am unaware of them. And I say this with full humility."

"Are you even capable of such a thing?" The words slipped out of Sarah's mouth before she could think twice. She actually covered her mouth in response.

The Collector chuckled. "If I were pressed to teach younger witches about the true source of power, but could only do so in a few minutes, humility would be part of the discussion. We use what meager abilities we possess to tap into a far higher power. Recognizing this doesn't make us foolish or sentimental. It would be like the captain of a boat taking credit for the calmness of the sea."

Sarah frowned. A comment like that would usually earn her a rebuke of some sort. The Collector was being kind today.

For some reason, it scared her.

"So what are we doing here?" Sarah asked.

"Now that's a good question." The Collector swished her cane like a sword, and the front door softly clicked open. A person just inside the entryway looked up at them with a frown.

It was a man in a coat, and he opened his mouth to say something, but the Collector rapped him gently on the forehead.

"Forget," she whispered. The man stared at them for a second, then looked at the open door behind her.

"Who left that open?" he asked in Norwegian.

"Better hurry," the Collector cautioned. Sarah darted through the door before the man could shut it. They were in a narrow hallway with a door at the other end.

They opened the next door and stepped into a long, narrow corridor with pipes up above and buckets to catch dripping water placed every few meters. The Collector rapped Sarah's ankle with her cane.

"Might as well make yourself useful, Elizabeth."

Sarah's mother made a hissing sound, then cloaked them in shadows as they walked. The tunnel was just wide enough for Sarah to walk at the Collector's side.

"So the reason we are here is Amir," the Collector said. "Have you ever wondered why the Curator was so willing to help him?"

Sarah shrugged. "Not really. It's always about chasing power with my associates."

"Bah. The trouble with you lot is that you chase power, but haven't properly defined it." The woman sighed and rapped a pipe with her cane. "Knowledge is power. Amir happens to have a very valuable niche that he is quite the expert in."

"Does it involve Outsiders?"

The Collector nodded. "It does. The man swapped his soul with an Outsider for immortality. Sure, he spent the last few years having his atoms pressed between the fabric of time and space like...like..." She snapped her fingers three times and made a face. "I was going to say water through a coffee filter, but that's not quite right. One way or another, the man was coming back. And he owes the Curator quite the favor for it."

"How does that help you, though?" Sarah knew that the Collector was working with them now, but in what capacity had never been very clear.

"My son has his pursuits, and I my own. That's all you're going to get. But!" The Collector paused and turned toward Sarah. "You're missing the bigger question."

"I suppose I am." When Sarah saw the serious look on the Collector's face, she winced. "Mistress," she added.

"Good. Admitting you don't know is a sign of humility. Today is a big day for you." The Collector poked Sarah in the chest with a finger. "I won't even make you guess because we're in a hurry. The bigger question issssss..."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at the older woman, who looked like a shitty gameshow host about to reveal a terrible prize.

"How!" The Collector tapped her cane. "How did Amir converse with the Outsiders in the first place?"

Sarah pursed her lips, deep in thought. "I would assume a ritual of sorts."

"Bah. That's the boring answer. Of course he used some sort of ritual. But contacting Outsiders is like skydiving into a tornado at best. No, Amir made real, meaningful contact with one of those beings first, then made his deal. It was one of the first things we asked him once he woke up."

"And he just...told you?"

The Collector nodded. "You have to understand, not only does he owe us, but we also have the same goals. For me, it's about winning the Great Game. Or the Grand Game. I don't even know what it's being called anymore." She continued walking. "He wants his succubus back, but not as badly as he wishes to ruin the Radley family. Both myself and the Curator disabused him of the notion of simply marching up to the Radley home. If there's one thing both my son and I are good at, it's how we meticulously plan such things."

They arrived at a door, which the Collector pushed open. Inside, the roof was now made of rock, proof that they were officially tunneled into the stone of the mountain. A couple of employees looked up at them, but then looked away in disinterest as the Collector whispered a word under her breath.

"Where was I, where was...oh! Yes. Amir and contacting the Outsider." The Collector walked to the next door and paused to lean against it. "How do you speak with a being that doesn't acknowledge the existence of time or space?"

"I don't know." Actually, Sarah had some ideas, but was curious about why the Collector was being so nice to her. Not even trying to answer the question usually pissed the woman off.

"The one place a person can go where time and space have...well, a poor relationship with linearity." The Collector tapped her own head. "I'm speaking of the Dreamscape, child. Amir spent all those years with a succubus and learned how to manipulate his own Dreamscape. It was there that he made his first contact."

"That...makes sense, I think." Sarah furrowed her brow. "But what did he do that was different than everybody else?"

"For starters, he had a very strong will. Outsiders are always hovering just beyond the edges of our dreams. It's what causes night terrors. You see one of the bastards and wake up screaming with no idea how or why." The Collector pushed open the next door to reveal a room the size of a small warehouse. They walked inside and stopped. The room itself had three separate doors to go through.

"So we're here for an Outsider?"

"Wrong again. Had my hands on one for a couple of days, though. Immensely powerful beings. The few times they manifested on Earth, they were seen as terrible gods. No, we're not here for an Outsider. Rather, we are here for Amir's Dreamscape mentor."

"The succubu--ow!" Sarah winced when the Collector smacked her with the cane.

"If I have to hear about that damned succubus one more time...well, I'll just hit you again I suppose." The woman pursed her lips. "Amir couldn't rely on the succubus. He needed a way to put his soul somewhere else for safe keeping. So he found someone else to help him. A Dreamscape master, if you will."

"Do they work here?"

"Ha! Not quite. This place is a storage facility for seeds. Do you think a dream master would be doing such a boring thing? No, this person was captured by the Order about a century ago. They helped fund this facility and are storing him here where he can slumber all on his own. Well, his soul, anyway. It's one of the reasons women aren't allowed to give birth on the island. They don't want the bastard jumping into a fresh body and escaping."

"Really?" Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "What are the other reasons?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. Healthcare, you ninny. We're on an island. Giving birth is easy unless something goes wrong. Then it's downright tragic." The Collector pointed toward an empty section of wall. "They call this place the chapel, you know. Whole area is lined with protective wards to keep him from escaping."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble for just one man," Sarah muttered. "Why not kill him?"

"They tried, actually. Couldn't figure out how." The Collector stopped before the stone wall and tapped it with her finger. Eventually, a glowing glyph appeared. "Ah, okay. This is more complicated than I expected."

"So, what, we're here to free him?"

"Yep. Last time he truly got loose, the world experienced a mysterious sleeping sickness. People fell asleep and simply never awoke. The Order mobilized its best and brightest to track him down." She tapped her coat. "I've got a contract in here that he's going to sign if he wants out. Need him to agree to some things before we turn him loose on the world again."

"I think I get it. We're recruiting him."

"Nope. He's not really a man who plays well with others."

"So we're sending him after the Radleys?"

"Wrong again...aha!" A series of glyphs appeared, and then the stone slid open to reveal a dark chamber beyond. "You have to understand, every time you have gone up against the Radley family, you haven't just failed. You have made them stronger. Every single time. What doesn't kill you, and all that. Hello?" When the Collector called out, her voice echoed in the darkness. The woman produced a flashlight and stepped through the open doorway. "Anybody home?"

Sarah shivered as she stepped through after the Collector. Something about the darkness in this room felt wrong. Dim red lights flared around the base of the room as the Collector's flashlight flickered, then went out.

"Ah. Well. I expected that may happen." The Collector shifted in the dark and seized Sarah's wrist before she could cast a spell. "Don't use any magic in here," she warned. "The Order will be alerted right away."

"Do they work here?" Sarah asked.

"Maybe. I bypassed the door only because I knew the right sequence for the runes. They really didn't want this guy to get out. Follow me."

Together, they moved through the darkness. Any witch worth her magic could see perfectly on a moonless night, yet this place seemed to devour what little light came in from the entryway behind them. A rhythmic tapping sound emanated from the stone above. Sarah wondered if it was water or something more sinister.

Her shadow squeezed her reassuringly. Her mother had been cold and distant in life. Now she was just cold. The fact that she was trying to reassure Sarah was setting off red flags.

"How deep is this tunnel?" Sarah asked.

"Almost two hundred feet. Your typical spirit is bound to its current vessel and can't travel any further than about a hundred feet. This whole chamber has been inlaid with protective runes to prevent spirits from entering or leaving. Even so, numerous protective measures have been laid. I believe there are no fewer than a hundred failsafes."

"A hundred?"

The Collector chuckled. "Do you even remember the sleeping sickness from a hundred years ago?"

Sarah shrugged. "Not really. We were deep in the middle of the woods, trying to avoid the public eye."

"I was under the impression that you and your mother were quite the big deal."

Sarah nodded, then remembered the witch couldn't see her. "We got the attention of those who would harm us. Amir was the one who found us in the early Nineteen Thirties. Joining him meant we no longer had to live in seclusion."

"Witches are usually part of covens. Were you in a coven?"

"It was just the two of us at the time."

"What happened to the rest of your witches?"

"They died. Why aren't you in a coven?"

The Collector cackled. "Who says I'm not?"

Sarah scowled. Another non-answer. "So who is this mysterious entity we're here to find?"

"They called him the Black Prince." The Collector stopped and tapped something metallic with her cane. "We're here."

In the dim red light, Sarah could just make out a human skull with a glass panel embedded in the front. Inside was a mummified brain.

"This is him?"

"Yes. Trapped in a human vessel and rendered too weak to enter the Dreamscape on his own. It’s why I didn’t send one of my clones. I worried he might take that body for himself and try to escape. Doing so would be a tragedy, as the cost of possessing a human vessel would drain him of much needed strength. This was the only solution the Order could come up with. He’s in there right now, trapped and weak.” The Collector tapped on the glass. “If we can give him a strong enough jolt, he will be able to leave this place of his own accord, hopping from dream to dream once again and gaining power.”

“So a modern day Freddy Kreuger?”

The Collector scowled. “Please. That is an oversimplification. Once the Black Prince is free, it is my intention to guide his efforts. But a prince isn’t good enough. I fully intend to see him become a king, and have the tools at my disposal to do so.”

“A king?”

The Collector smirked. “Of nightmares, yes.”

“How does this help us?”

The old witch laughed. “That’s just it. I’m not entirely sure. It all depends on what the Caretaker does. Watch the tunnel for me.”

The Collector pulled out a scroll written on human flesh, then pressed her forehead against the glass of the grim altar. For nearly an hour, Sarah listened intently, only occasionally detecting a faint hiss. Eventually, a dark signature appeared at the bottom of the contract, written in black ink that leaked from the skull’s nasal cavity.

“It’s done.” The Collector snapped her fingers and the scroll rolled itself up.

“Just like that?”

“Yep.” The Collector jammed the scroll into her bag and started walking toward the door in a rush. “I’ve given him his marching orders. Now we just sit back and wait.”

“I don’t understand.” Sarah jogged behind the Collector, clutching her broom tight against her side. “We’re not going to monitor him?”

“Nope. After this moment, we shall have no connection with him. Amir might, though, but not in a leadership capacity. The Black Prince was his mentor. Perhaps there is more to teach him, perhaps not. That’s their relationship, after all. It’s good to have boundaries about such things.”

“I’m confused.” The two of them were almost at the opening to the tunnel. The red lights were already beginning to fade as they reached the exit. “I was under the impression you needed my help with this.”

“And I do!” The Collector turned around as she reached the door of the tunnel. “You see, his majesty needs to regain his strength, and there’s only one way he can do so.” She pressed the tip of her cane against Sarah’s chest. “He’s an incubus, kiddo.”

With a shove, the Collector sent Sarah sprawling back into the tunnel. The witch gasped as she hit the ground, her shadow blunting the impact. Sarah’s heart raced as she stood up and felt phantom hands groping her body.

“Wait!” she cried as the door started sliding shut. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Oh, stop your griping. You’re a proper meal compared to what I would have brought to the party.” The Collector squeezed one of her own breasts for emphasis. “That body of yours is young and fresh, it’ll hold up to plenty of abuse. And it’s not like you haven’t done worse for power.”

Sarah tried to speak, but a hand clamped itself over her mouth. She tried to scream, but couldn’t.

“Your mother should keep you from dying, so…I’ll be in town once you get out. So try to have fun!” The Collector waved cheerfully as the door slammed shut, plunging Sarah into darkness.

The witch heard something growl behind her, then was yanked off her feet. She tried to fight back against her foe, but couldn’t make contact with the entity. In an act of desperation, she reached for her magic, only to feel her mother clamp down around her and block it off.

“No,” she whispered with tears in her eyes as something growled in her ear. Her screams of rage echoed off the stone walls as the Black Prince took her.