2.09 First Date in a Fantasy World

Delta ate like a woman who didn’t care an iota about what people thought of her, and while Zoey respected the impervious assuredness, her table manners were really something. And not in a good way. Her napkin was more red-sauce than napkin. She hadn’t even cleaned it all from her mouth. Zoey would say she ‘missed a spot’, but that didn’t quite do things justice.

“So,” Delta said. “How am I supposed to get to know you, when you’ve forgotten everything?”

“Good question.”

“Tell you what. Let’s do some roleplaying. Make up answers that you think would fit.”

“Uh,” Zoey said.

Zoey had always been a person who handled herself well—it would be arrogant to say confident and charismatic, but a little bit, yeah, was how she viewed herself—but Delta’s total irreverence surpassed even Zoey’s; here was a woman who could walk into a royal banquet, toss her shoes off, collapse into the front seat, and whine about the food not being ready. Even if she hadn’t been invited. Especially if she hadn’t.

If Zoey condensed it down into a line—she didn’t give a shit. About anything. Social-related, at least. She cared about her career. Driven, in the same way as Rosalie, but … different. If that made sense. There was a reason Rosalie had taken interest in her; a reason Delta had cleared the very high hurdles Rosalie had set.

“Okay, sure,” Zoey said. “Ask away?” The date was, at least, not awkward. Zoey didn’t think any event could be awkward for Delta. That implied caring enough about whether things were a disaster, and she definitely did not.

“What do you do in your free time?”

Zoey blinked. “Uh,” she said, buying herself a second. She could make up answers here, but this one was actually straightforward, and not foggied by Ephy’s carving-out of her memories. She didn’t have to lie. “I guess, hang out. Shoot the shit. I was kind of useless growing up. Always failing classes, getting in trouble. I like being around people. Sometimes I wish I had real hobbies. Something impressive, like an instrument, or an art. Instead, I’m just good at talking to people. And is that a skill? Or hobby? Not really.”

Delta nodded along. “Yeah, that fits. Cute.”

‘Fits’. She thought Zoey was making things up. Probably better that way. “You?” Zoey asked.

“Explore,” Delta said. “Experience new things. I don’t have hobbies. That implies doing the same thing, and that’s the opposite of what I want. Anything fresh, that gets my heart pumping.”

“Is that why you became a Wayfarer? For the experiences?”

“More or less,” Delta said. “But also ‘cuz it pays the bills. My dad broke his spine working his construction job, and medical bills aren’t covering it. So it’s up to me.”

The nonchalant, sudden insertion of such a serious topic had Zoey scrambling for an answer. “Oh. That’s—you’re very—”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Delta said. “It’s a sob story. Everyone has one. I don’t like tip-toeing. We’re getting to know each other.”

And Zoey was. “Hopefully we can make a difference for him. Rosalie sets a fast pace.”

“That’s the goal.” Delta shrugged. “Already planned to be a Wayfarer, but that set a fire under my ass.”

“I bet.” It felt like an inappropriate response. Too small.

“How’d you end up like this?” Delta asked. “Your situation, I mean.”

For a second, Zoey forgot she was supposed to be inventing answers. ‘Roleplaying’. So she almost said, ‘No clue’.

Instead, after a second’s hesitation, she said, “A perverted goddess tore me between dimensions and tasked me to save the world.”

A grin split Delta’s face, and she leaned forward, orange and white fox ears perking up interest. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. How perverted we talking?”

“I mean, she gave me a cock. So. Pretty.”

Delta laughed. “And what’s your grand goal? Why does the world need saving?”

“Waiting to find out, I guess.”

“Maybe the Fractures are decaying. Splitting at the seams, like the Doomsayers are always whining about, and when it’s gone, Haven’ll starve to death.”

A chill ran down Zoey’s spine. “Doomsayers?”

“You know? Those cultists.” She frowned. “I guess Treyhull doesn’t have many out in the open. Guards stamp ‘em down. But it’s all hot air, anyway.” She shrugged. “Then again, who knows? Maybe the world is ending.”

“Huh,” Zoey only said. “Decaying, you said?”

“Yeah, you know.” Delta paused. “I guess you don’t. The Rot?”

“The Rot?”

“The shards that don’t act like they should,” Delta said.

It was incredible how fast Zoey’s stomach was sinking to the ground. “What do you mean?”

“Shit, I dunno. It’s all horseshit. Not real.” Delta waved her hand, as if she didn’t want to talk about it. Zoey didn’t either. This was supposed to be a light-hearted outing, and Zoey had the feeling she’d stumbled on why Ephy had shunted her between worlds. “Next question. What’s up with blondie?”

“Rosalie?”

“No, your other stick-up-her-ass teammate.”

Zoey tensed. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

Delta blinked at her reaction, then a grin split her face. “Shit, you have the hots for her, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Zoey said. “I do.”

She blinked again at Zoey’s honesty. Her smile quickly reasserted itself. “Totally see why. Don’t think I’d ever be able to put up with all that, but I get it.”

“Mmm,” Zoey said.

“I’m stepping on toes,” Delta said. “Perfect. We’re hitting the good stuff. So, what’s up with her?”

“You’ll need to be more specific.”

“Who is she? She radiates old blood.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Right. She’s—well, I’m guessing, at least—she’s got family high-up. Real high up. That kind of passive authority doesn’t come from nowhere. Officers in a highguild? Maybe that’s too much. But her roots run deep, that much is obvious. Bet she’s got family members sixth, seventh advancement, maybe higher. Grandmas and grandpas who were the same. Great-great grandmas. You know … old blood.”

Zoey hesitated, but Delta didn’t sound like she was guessing. “I was thinking that, too. Not that I know what ‘officers’ means, or how rare sixth and seventh advancement are.”

“Pretty rare,” Delta said. “Guess you’re not someone to talk to about this. Man, what’s that like? Having nothing bouncing around, in there?” She rapped on her own skull.

Zoey laughed. Maybe she should be offended, but Delta’s complete lack of filter was enjoyable. “Upsetting. I remember my first girlfriend, but her face is scrubbed away. I don’t know her name. My parents, too. I can’t remember if I had sisters or brothers.”

Delta sobered. Zoey hadn’t meant to drag the mood down. She’d just been joining in on the no-filter thing. “Must be tough.”

“A sob story,” Zoey said. “Everyone’s got one.”

The grin split back. “Hell yeah. No reason to cry over it. Keep moving forward.”

###

“What advancement do you think?” Delta asked. “To not die?”

The two of them leaned over the ledge of a thousand-foot drop. The forest floor was difficult to make out from this height. Treyhull’s branching bridges, arching between the gargantuan trees that served as pillars to the sprawling city, were surprisingly unsafe for children; if Zoey leaned a bit further, she’d easily topple over. It’d be a long, contemplative fall before she hit the ground.

“How would I know? Could any?”

Delta snorted. “Eighth and above are practically gods. I don’t think gods die from a long fall.”

“They are?”

“Close enough. Least to us mortals. There’s a reason so many people throw their lives away chasing advancement.”

“How many are there?”

“Advancements?”

“Yeah.”

“Ten,” Delta said. “Allegedly.”

“Allegedly?”

“Who fucking knows? How things work at that level? Even Enzo d’Celestin is only ninth. And that man could carve up a city by himself.”

She tucked the name away. Zoey was learning the lore of this world piece-meal. “How’s advancement work?” Zoey asked. “If we have three runes, then—”

“Excuse me?”

Zoey blinked. Delta was staring at her.

“What?”

“Three?”

“Or five, I guess?” Zoey asked, confused. “Does ‘generalist’ and a crafting rune count?”

Zoey could tell she’d said something wrong. Delta wasn’t an easy woman to turn speechless.

“You have three combat runes,” Delta said. “And a crafting, too?”

“Uh,” Zoey said.

“Maker. You really were chosen by a goddess and sent to save us. Three?”

“That’s rare?”

“Two is rare,” Delta said. “Three is heaven-blessed. And a crafting rune. I’ve never heard of it. I see why blondie didn’t want you sharing your anima.”

“Oh,” Zoey said.

“I’d ask what they are, but you’re too clueless to realize that’s not the kind of thing you should share.” She shook her head. “You should listen to stick-up-her-ass more. You’ll land yourself in hot water, blabbing like you are.”

“Good thing I can trust you.”

“Yeah,” Delta said. “Good thing. Stop being an idiot. Not everyone’s me.”

Delta’s frankness was, like usual, a breath of fresh air. And she meant it; Zoey had grown to trust this woman with bizarre speed. “Like I was saying, though. If you have several, what determines your advancement?”

“The average between them, I guess? Most people have one, so it’s not complicated.”

“Just one?”

“Just one,” Delta scoffed. “Fuck you.”

Zoey blinked.

Delta rolled her eyes. “One is normal. ‘Just one’. Gods. You’re insufferable.”

“Have you tried being born lucky?”

Delta laughed. Zoey smiled, too. The fox-girl’s laugh was growing quickly entrancing.

There was a short silence.

“We’re alone up here,” Delta said. “People don’t use this bridge.”

Zoey looked around. “Yeah, I guess they don’t.” She couldn’t see anyone in either direction, though a few had passed while they’d been standing, talking, and overlooking the spanning forest floor. Why had she brought it up?

Delta slid sideways, then rested her head against Zoey’s shoulder, her long fox ears brushing against the side of her neck. Zoey’s heart skipped a beat at the easy affection. Then, without warning, her hand snaked down Zoey’s pants, invading her personal space in a way that had Zoey squeaking in surprise, her hips jerking back, before she quickly righted herself.

“Holy shit,” Delta said, squeezing, and sending a lightning bolt through Zoey’s body. Her tail swished in Zoey’s peripheral, agitated, which seemed to be a surprised response. “How the hell did you hide this thing?”

Zoey’s head pivoted left and right, even as her lower body reacted to Delta’s cold hands. “We’re in public,” she said, heartbeat having quickly started slamming in her chest. The words were a bit ironic, seeing how Zoey had very publicly had fun with that clothing store attendant, but they’d been behind a closed door, and only the noise had leaked through; here, on the bridge, it was open air in every direction. Even if nobody was nearby.

“Fuck,” Delta said. “It’s still growing. What the hell is this thing?”

“It’s, uh, bigger than most.” That was an understatement.

“It’s still going!”

Zoey’s cock filled out, Delta’s fingers exploring as it did. She couldn’t reach all the way down Zoey’s pants to feel the tip, anymore.

Zoey leaned against the wooden railing of the bridge and tried to ignore Delta’s questing hand. “Are you, uh, sure this a good idea?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Delta asked. “Public indecency charge? Who cares?”

“It’s, uh,” Zoey’s breath caught as Delta’s hand squeezed around her shaft. “Rude, don’t you think? To be in public?”

“A bit,” Delta said. “But it’s hot.”

Zoey gasped as Delta’s fingers dipped beneath her cock to stroke at Zoey’s other sensitive area. Her hand finally shot up and gripped Delta’s arm to stop her.

Delta blinked in surprise. “Don’t like that?”

“I, um,” Zoey didn’t know how to put it into words. She’d been wondering it herself, recently. “I prefer the new part.”

“Sure.” Her hand returned to Zoey’s cock. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

It was such a casual, friendly, unjudging offer that Zoey’s first instinct—to say no—went ignored. “I—I—” She failed to put it into words.

“Must be a lot. Hard to adjust to, having something new there.” The ease Delta held conversation while stroking Zoey’s cock was a bit comical.

“A lot. Yeah. It’s a lot.”

“Easier to pretend it’s all you got, now?”

“I guess?” Zoey winced at how Delta leaned forward and got her arm all the way down, playing with her cock tip. “Um. I always preferred girls. So I’m hardly not used to … the normal … way.” Zoey didn’t like how she’d phrased it. “But both at once is uncomfortable.”

“Seems like it’d be fun.”

“It probably would be.”

Delta bobbed her head. “Take it at your own pace. Fuck what anyone else says.”

Zoey laughed. Such a beautiful, simple world-view. “It’s new. Makes it more exciting, I guess? The other part has had plenty of fun. She’s just … taking a break.”

Delta smiled. “More exciting. I bet. Man, what I’d give for a cock.”

“You would?”

“Hell yeah. Haven’t you been listening to me? I love new shit. Give me alien parts. What do flowers have? Pistil and stamen? Think those feel good?” She laughed, obviously not serious—but also, in some small sense, completely serious. “What’s it like? Do you mind?”

“The, uh.”

“Cock. Yeah.”

“It’s. Um. Fun.” Her thoughts were becoming harder to form. Delta was working away eagerly. “It was weird to start off. And … intense.”

“I’m assuming blondie was your first?”

Was it rude to answer that question? “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Delta laughed. “What a gentleman. But sure. Fine. How far have you gotten?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Delta pouted. “I’m just making conversation. What’s it like, being inside a girl?”

Zoey leaned her forehead against her arms, the feeling in her lower-body quickly building. “Don’t, um, kiss and tell.”

“Fine. Be a prude. It’s really obvious you and blondie have been getting freaky.”

Zoey hadn’t actually been inside Rosalie, though. Not besides her throat. It was funny Delta thought that was a given.

Delta worked away, Zoey’s panting and moaning the only thing filling the air.

Suddenly, she stopped, hand jerking out from inside Zoey’s pants. She leaned over the railing. Zoey blinked, the haze of lust making it hard to think.

“What—?”

“Heads up. Right side.”

Zoey glanced right. A man and a woman were walking down the bridge, slowly coming into view. Delta had been paying attention.

Zoey groaned, leaning forward. “Fuck. That’s really mean.”

“Wait a few minutes, you crybaby.”

“What happened to ‘fuck it’?”

Delta raised her eyebrows at Zoey. “Challenge me, and I will do it. I stopped for your sake.”

Zoey’s needy lower-half almost made the decision for her, but she bit her lip and said, “No, you’re right. Thanks. That’d be super embarrassing.”

The three minutes it took for the two to pass were some of the most excruciating of Zoey’s life. Delta had left her right on the edge of orgasm, and her cock pulsed angrily in neglect.

Delta’s hand slid back down her pants in blessed relief. The stroking continued.

“This’ll do, right?” Delta asked.

“Do?”

“For your skill.”

“Oh. Um. Yes?”

“You don’t sound certain.”

“The exact phrasing is, ‘release seed onto or inside target and activate to form bond’.”

“Bond?”

Zoey guessed they hadn’t talked about her skillset. “I have to be bonded to you to use my skills.” Or skill, for now. She assumed future ones would only work on bonded targets, too.

“What kind of skills?”

“Bolster, which gives you a short, powerful boost in strength.” Zoey’s hips wiggled as the pressure in her core built. She was getting close. “And, uh, ‘Alacrity’. Which makes bonded targets advance runes faster.”

The jerking motion inside Zoey’s pants ceased. “You’re shitting me.”

“Don’t stop, asshole.”

Delta’s lips quirked at Zoey’s plainly-stated outrage. The movement resumed. “You make other people advance their runes faster?”

“So it says.” It was a hard ability to quantify, obviously.

“Shit. I think that’s what blondie was trying to keep me from finding out.”

“Why?”

“Because it puts a target on your head, you fucking idiot. Gods, she’s right. You’re way too clueless.”

“It’s that big of a deal?”

“Hm, let me think. Yes? I could absolutely see a high-rank Wayfarer enslaving you to take advantage of it.”

“Enslave?”

“Shit’s not all sunshine and meadows out there, Zoey. Are you kidding me? I know you’ve got memory problems, but you lost common sense, too?”

“This—this is a conversation, uh, better held when I can think straight.” She was trying to digest Delta’s scolding, but failing. All she could think about was the building white-hot pleasure.

Delta was quiet for a second, then laughed. “Yeah, fair enough. How close are you?”

“Pretty close.”

“Bridge is clear. Assuming you don’t wanna make a mess, toss those pants down.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ll let you know if we have visitors.” She shrugged. “Or drench your pants in cum. That’s totally the better option.”

Zoey considered it for a few seconds, before undoing her belt, buttons, and dropping her pants. She finagled her cock above her underwear. Delta’s hand didn’t stop stroking the whole way through.

“Fuck me,” Delta said. “How big is it?”

“Fourteen inches?”

“Maker. Why do some people have all the luck?”

“Beats me,” Zoey gasped. She pressed her forehead back into her arms, leaning against the bridge railing, as her crescendo finally arrived.

Eight or nine body-twitching pulses later, Zoey had emptied herself out into the open air, and, more relevantly to the mission, across Delta’s hand. She activated her skill, Bonding her.

“Where the hell did you keep all that?” Delta laughed, wiping her hand on Zoey’s underwear. “You could’ve filled a bucket.” She slapped her ass, making Zoey jump in surprise. “We should head back. There’s an irritable blonde waiting for us.”

###

“Is it done?” Rosalie asked.

“Is it done,” Delta mockingly repeated. “No, I agreed to this so I could scam her from an eight copper meal. Second-advancement life is hard, we gotta take what we can get.”

Rosalie’s lips tightened. She turned to Zoey.

“It’s done, yeah.” Rosalie and Delta didn’t like each other. That was, without a doubt, going to cause headaches.

Which was a shame. Both were amazing. She’d only had a few hours to get to know Delta, but everything she had learned had formed a glowing appraisal of the girl.

“Good,” Rosalie said. “We leave in the morning. Room 515?”

“That’s me,” Delta said.

“We’ll be there. Third bell. Don’t answer, and we’ll leave without you.”

“No, you won’t,” Delta said. “But I like the gusto.”

Rosalie stalked away. Zoey stood frozen, grimacing at Delta, who grinned in return, before chasing after Rosalie.

“I like her,” Zoey said. “You should be nicer.”

“You like anyone willing to jerk you off,” Rosalie spat. “So forgive me if I take the opinion with a grain of salt.”

Zoey froze.

Rosalie realized a second later, coming to a stop herself, and turning to look at Zoey.

“If there’s a problem,” Zoey said. “You should express it.” She had to maintain her voice to mask the hurt.

A genuine expression of distress passed Rosalie’s face, before being wiped away. “I didn’t mean that. I don’t care what you do for fun. I’m just … why her?”

“Delta is sweet. She’s abrasive, but genuine.” Not that dissimilar from you. In that way, at least. Rosalie and Delta couldn’t be less alike.

“She’s more than abrasive.”

“Yeah, maybe. But you’ll like her if you give her a chance.”

“I doubt that.”

“Sounds like we’ll be sticking together for a bit. So hostility might not be for the best. For team dynamics.”

Rosalie sighed, then wiped her hand across her face. “I know.”

It was more of a show of weakness than she was used to seeing. “Is something wrong?”

Rosalie’s blue eyes bored into Zoey.

Her cheeks colored, and she glanced away.

Zoey stepped forward and took Rosalie’s hands in hers. “What? Tell me?”

“She got the first date,” Rosalie mumbled.

Zoey blinked in surprise.

Rosalie wrenched her hands away and stalked forward.

“Wait. Wait!”

“I’m being a child.”

“First date?”

Rosalie threw hands in the air. “Why would I want to go on a date? I’ve got so much more important things to be handling. Don’t even offer.”

Zoey grabbed Rosalie’s hand and forced her to stop. “Rosie.” She met blue eyes with deadly seriousness. “There’s nothing I want more. Go on a date with me? Please? It’s a waste of time, but it would make me the happiest girl in the world.”

Rosalie lasted a few seconds under Zoey’s intense gaze. She stepped forward and pressed her head into Zoey’s shoulder. “I guess I can make time. It’ll have to be after the next shard.”

“Thank you,” Zoey said. “I’ll try to come up with something fun.”

“You better,” Rosalie mumbled. “If I had a girlfriend, she has to be someone who tries her hardest.”