The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening (9 page)

“I give up. Whatever. I don’t know if it’s too small or it’s made like this,” she said in reference to the way the material pushed on her breasts, managing to give her a cleavage even though she only had a B-cup.

Marcel laughed and came up behind her in the mirror, wrapping his arms around her waist while saying, “I think it looks nice. Great view if you ask me.”

MaLeila groaned, hoping her face didn’t look as hot as it felt. She grabbed his arms and pulled them from around her.

“Alright. I’m putting the other one on,” she said.

Marcel wrapped his arms back around her and pulled him to her. “No. Leave it on.”

“I’m not trying to give you any ideas.”

Marcel laughed in her neck, the vibrations traveling down MaLeila’s spine and starting to make her hot for reasons other than being embarrassed.

“You mean any more ideas than I already have,” Marcel said kissing her cheek over and over again until MaLeila finally turned her head to her right to meet his lips.

As they kissed, Marcel caressed the bare skin of her abdomen, moved his hands down her sides until they touched the skin of her thighs just below the boy shorts of her bikini, then moved them back up her sides and to her abdomen again.

MaLeila pulled her lips away from his some making a humming sound as his caresses continued to send delightful shocks to her nerves. She opened her eyes half-lidded and said, “Don’t we have to get going? So we can get a good spot before everyone gets to the beach?”

“You gave me other ideas,” Marcel said and closed the small gap MaLeila had created again.

His hands went down her body and then back up again, this time going higher until they rested on her breasts. He gently squeezed them at first, then harder until he was massaging them through her bikini. MaLeila made a quiet squealing sound before pulling her lips away from Marcel’s and sucking in a gasp. The resulting sensations from Marcel’s hands made MaLeila’s legs begin to feel unsteady and slowly she felt the return of an ache she had begun to get well acquainted with in the last few weeks from just Marcel kissing her and touching her through her clothes. When Marcel had joked that she had nothing to worry about when it came to him having his way with her while they were away, it wasn’t him MaLeila was worried about. She was worried about herself, because the sensations and aches that Marcel made her feel were new, made her feel excited in a way she had never felt before and desperately made her want to let him relieve the ache he caused.

At home when she started to feel like this, she could stop him and tell him that it was late and she needed to go home so no one worried about where she was or that she had a lot of homework to do and he needed to stop distracting her. But on vacation in their own hotel room, with nowhere they really had to go, there was nothing to bring her back to reality or remind her of all the reasons they shouldn’t go any further. Away from everyone and everything else, it was just her and Marcel and how he made her feel, how much better he could possibly make her feel if she let him, and that was all that mattered.

The left strap of her top fell off her shoulder and the more Marcel massaged, the more the fabric covering her breast slipped from his grasp until it slipped completely, leaving her entire breast exposed to him. He pinched her nipple, and MaLeila tossed her head back against his chest and moaned, the tight ache between her legs getting worse. She pressed her thighs together to help relieve the ache, but when she opened them again, the ache had only gotten worse. Or maybe it was because her other breast was now uncovered and Marcel was pinching and squeezing that one too. He stopped his ministrations and turned her to face him. As soon as she was facing him, their lips were upon each other’s, his hands cupping her butt, her hands on the back of his neck and head to push him closer to her. Then he hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. The process of lying her down on the bed, disconnected their bodies from each other and MaLeila promptly moved her hands to his butt and pushed his hips against pelvic region.

“Oh God,” she moaned when she felt the hard bulge in his trunks against her covered heat. “Marcel.”

He peppered kisses all over her face and down her neck while using both hands to grab either side of her butt and grind her against him. MaLeila balled her fist up in his shirt and arched her back. While doing so, she got tired of tugging on his cotton tunic and slid her hands under his shirt to feel the muscles in his back. It wasn’t enough, so she started to lift the hem of his shirt, exposing the taut muscles of his stomach when two things happened simultaneously. First, he stopped kissing her face and slid down her body until he had her entire nipple and as much of her breasts as he could fit in his mouth. Second, music from her phone began to play.

She reached out a hand to the nightstand next to them to grab it, only to gasp and arch herself into Marcel at the jolt that went straight to the tight ache in her pelvic region resulting from Marcel sucking hard on her nipple.

“Let it go,” he demanded against her breast.

“That’s,” MaLeila’s gasped again as he sucked again. Then she took in a breath and managed to pant, “That’s Bastet’s ringtone. She’d only call if it was really important. I have to… I have to… Marcel!”

His name came out in a loud gasp—partly from tying to get his attention; partly from the ache in her pelvic region reaching its peak causing her to first go taut before it released and caused her hot body to go languid and tremble with spasms from the resulting orgasm.

When it over, she lay back on the bed under Marcel, feeling like she light and heavy at the same time as she looked at him through the haze of her euphoria.

“Fuck,” she gasped, not caring about the smug satisfied smile on his face that normally annoyed her.

Marcel’s response was to kiss her lips again. Then he purred in her ear, “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t answer it.”

MaLeila tried to answer him with her next breath, but only succeeded in exhaling heavily again.

“If you thought that was something, then you’ll have no words for what I plan to do with you next,” he said, beginning to kiss her neck again.

MaLeila felt the ache that had only moments ago been relieved begin to return, feeling as though Marcel’s lips were directly kissing and agitating the ache between her legs rather than her neck.

Music played from her phone again. And this time MaLeila managed to somewhat push him away and scoot back to grab her phone.

“I told you I needed to answer it,” MaLeila said still panting. She tried and failed to get her breathing back to normal before answering. “What happened?”

If Bastet noticed her odd breathing, she must not have cared because she said promptly,
“Are you near a television?”

“Yeah,” MaLeila said looking around the room for the remote to the television in front of the bed.

“Turn to the news right now.”

Bastet never gave MaLeila orders and because she never did, MaLeila pushed Marcel all the way off her, much to his disappointment, and turned on the television. It took her a while to find a news station, but when she did, her jaw dropped.

“Holy shit,” she said.

“What?” Marcel said looking uninterested in the grainy video in the corner of the television while news broadcasters spoke.

MaLeila didn’t answer immediately, more focused on the red kimono dress, the wavy brown hair, the olive colored complexion, and the almond shaped brown eyes, which before she had dismissed as an undistinguishing trait. The video wasn’t cleat, but she knew that face regardless.

Finally she said, “That’s Tsubame.”

10

Naturally, MaLeila and Marcel didn’t extend their vacation, going with the original plan to leave Monday morning. Marcel dropped MaLeila off at home when they arrived and gave her a quick kiss while promising to be back soon, before leaving to take care of council business. When she stepped into the house, Bastet didn’t even turn to glance at her, eyes glued to her computer, but Devdan glanced at her, gaze lingering on her for longer than his it usually took to acknowledge her existence. Only when MaLeila locked her eyes with his did he slowly turn his gaze, whereupon she sat next to Bastet who was quickly scrolling through articles and news sites.

“What happened?” MaLeila asked.

“No one’s really sure. All we know is one of the most renown leaders in the middle east suddenly came up dead, his second took over and there Tsubame was sitting at his feet as he declared his takeover to his inner circle. Nothing’s really happened yet, but you know how changes in regimes go. Everyone starts speculating the worst people start saying the President needs to give the okay to send bombs or help the rebels in case worst comes to worst,” Bastet said rolling her eyes. “They aren’t talking about Tsubame though, her name isn’t even mentioned in any of the articles. In fact, no one seems to care about the woman kneeling on the floor next to the guy’s feet.”

“Tsubame didn’t strike me as the type to kneel before anyone’s feet,” MaLeila pointed out.

“Me neither. She’s too powerful for it, which lets me know that for some reason she’s exactly where she wants to be,” Bastet said, now logging into the world registry of magic users. “The guy who took over? His name’s Fathi. The magic council noticed him when he was young, around five or six, roughly thirty years ago, but he was just a random spurt of magic in a land where most of the powerful magic families had been scattered and diluted from hundreds of years of war and political coups. Then Ahmed Alfarsi, a rogue sorcerer and leader of one of the biggest underground rebel factions in the Middle East took him in. The council figured as long as Ahmed didn’t cross over into Europe again, he and all the other factions could destroy themselves with infighting. In fact, it was with some of their meddling that a decade ago that Ahmed rose to power.”

“Throwing the dog a bone so to speak?” Devdan asked.

“Yeah, but Ahmed didn’t know all this. And of course the magic council has kept him occupied by helping fund and manipulate other rebel factions to fight against him both magical and non-magical. As far as sorcerers are concerned, he’s neutralized. He would have never been able to organize to become one of the ruling magic families or even one of any real influence,” Bastet said. “But I’m sure the magic council didn’t plan on him being overthrown by his own second. Without even knowing Tsubame’s with him, the council is probably at least mildly concerned that this happened without them knowing it was going to happen.”

“How do you know all this?” MaLeila asked.

“All what?”

“The council’s schemes and manipulation of world powers.”

“I used to be heavily involved in that world. I have my insider sources,” Bastet said. She picked up her phone and looked at it, “In fact, I’m waiting for one to get back to me, if Tilila hasn’t already gotten to him. I guess she’ll let me know when she gets here.”

“When she gets here?”

“Yeah. She senses something in the air, figures it would be better for all of us to figure this out in person. She’ll be here sometime tonight. She’s bringing her husband too.”

“Oh really? When did she get married?” MaLeila asked.

“Couple of months ago,” Bastet answered absently.

Bastet didn’t say anything else, now engrossed in her research. MaLeila glanced at Devdan once more, who appeared to be asleep on the couch, and then went to her room to unpack her things and take a shower, before their company arrived. She didn’t come back out until she heard the doorbell ring later that evening. Bastet had already opened the door, letting into the house a tall thin dark skinned Moroccan woman with black eyes and bushy black hair tied down with a scarf in the front.

“Please tell me you have something to eat. Better yet, please tell me we can order pizza. You would think after all this time, I’d be used to flying, but of course not,” Tilila said in a thick accent that MaLeila knew would lessen within a week or so of her being there.

“Already on the way,” Bastet assured.

Tilila kissed Bastet on both cheeks before turning back to the door and gesturing to a Caucasian man around Bastet’s height with curly black hair, green eyes, glasses, and wearing faded jeans with a button shirt tucked into them.

“You’ve probably met my husband, Jaffe.”

Tilila barely got the man’s name out her mouth before a semi-automatic hand gun was being pointed at Jaffe’s chest. MaLeila hadn’t even seen Devdan move and with the lights on there was no way he could have travelled the shadows to get in front of Tilila’s husband so fast. Never mind when he had pulled the gun.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Devdan asked.

“Devdan. Put the gun down,” Bastet said.

“Depends on what his answer is,” Devdan replied.

Talila, who stood looking at the scene with wide eye, turned to look at Jaffe and asked, “You know him?”

“From a long time ago,” Jaffe said stiffly, not breaking his gaze from Devdan.

“He was… a friend of Claude’s,” Bastet gave as explanation.

After hearing that Claude was involved, MaLeila decided to take matters into her own hands, not trusting that Devdan would wait for an answer before he shot. At least he was better than he was four years ago. Back then, he would have shot first and asked questions later.

“Devdan,” MaLeila said putting her arm over his and grabbing onto the top of the gun. “Put it down.”

Devdan huffed and slowly lowered his gun, but MaLeila didn’t take her hand off it.

“Mind letting me have this?”

Devdan let go of the gun and when he did so, MaLeila lifted it level with her breasts and began to play with it in both hands. She looked at Tilila and said, “Long time no see, Tilila. Seems like everyone else knows your husband, but I don’t.”

At that point, MaLeila extended her hand to Jaffe and introduced herself, effectively turning everyone’s attention away from the fact that Devdan had pulled a gun on Jaffe a few minutes earlier. It would be a question to ask Devdan later, when they weren’t all trying to puzzle out why a powerful sorceress (or so they assumed) like Tsubame would subject herself to an average powered sorcerer at best who the magic council only cared about enough to make sure they eventually fought themselves out of existence.

“Go over it from the beginning MaLeila,” Tilila said with a slice of pizza in one hand and one of many books she took out of a purse that was neither heavy nor never seemed to fill in her lap. “Tell me everything.”

MaLeila sighed. “There’s not much to tell except what Bastet has probably already told you. She called herself the Immortal Queen Tsubame.”

“The queen of what?” Tilila pressed.

“Her world.”

“Did she say what her world was?”

MaLeila shrugged. “For all we know, she could be talking about an ant farm she keeps in her house.”

“She fell from a portal. I’m pretty sure when she said world, she meant a world,” Bastet replied.

“Not necessarily,” Jaffe said from where he was on a laptop with a cup of coffee. “Do you know how many magic users, no matter what kind have gotten into fights with each other and sealed one another away only for the sorcerer to escape later.”

“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Jaffe,” Devdan said, his hand flexing as though he were itching to have the gun the MaLeila had taken from him.

“Let’s not get into that one right now,” Bastet said before MaLeila could ask what Devdan was talking about. “That being said though, maybe Tsubame was a queen once, maybe not of this new modern world, but an old one, before there was a magic registry.”

“You’re talking about at least two thousand years,” Jaffe pointed out.

“Maybe even before that,” Tilila said while reaching into her purse to grab another book.

“What are you getting at Tilila?” Bastet asked as she leaned back on the couch.

Tilila took a book out her bag and as she was flipping through it she said, “I’m getting at the idea that maybe Tsubame being from another time might not be so farfetched.”

“So are you saying you think someone sealed her away while she was queen and now she wants to reclaim her throne again?” MaLeila asked.

“There’s a problem with that theory,” Devdan pointed out. “When Bastet said she wasn’t modest, Tsubame told her it was more modest than saying she was supreme goddess of the universe because she didn’t rule the universe yet.”

“He’s right on that one. She also kept saying she was from somewhere in the universe. So I think it’s safe to assume she didn’t mean Earth,” Bastet agreed.

“But that’s what I’m getting at. Maybe it’s all true and we just have to piece it all together the right way,” Tilila said finally finding what she was looking for.

MaLeila had only been in Tilila’s company three or four times, but she recognized the excited tone in woman’s voice, one that came when she finally got to show off her knowledge of the extensive history she learned from the research she did day in and day out. Eccentric as she was about her work, it was helpful in situations where MaLeila wasn’t clear who or what she was dealing with.

“Lately, I’ve been looking into the origin of magic, particularly the origin of the sorcerer and sorceress. If you go back far enough, there’s no record of sorcery, not the powerful kind we practice, even though magic goes back to the beginning of mankind. You don’t start to find sorcery in history until the myth of the gods begin to show up. Most people stop at saying that sorcerers and sorceress were the gods and the modern sorcerer is the descendant of them, but I don’t think that’s the entire story. It’s really fascinating how no one has done an in depth study of this correlation in history. I plan to write a paper on it and present it to the Magic Council one day, see what those old prudes think about this,” Talila ranted.

“Sweetheart,” Jaffe said.

“Right,” Tilila said while clearing her throat. “Anyway, no one knows where the gods came from, only that they showed up and people began to worship them.”

“This is supposing the gods were real and not just sorcerers and sorceresses,” Devdan replied.

“That’s exactly what my theory supposes. It supposes that the gods came here from another far world, brought humanity the beginnings of civilization and culture and from their intermingling with the human race gave birth to what we now call sorcery.”

MaLeila closed her eyes and shook her head, then put her hands up to stop Tilila before she went any further.

“Wait a minute. Are you saying that the gods, and when you say gods, you mean the stuff in Rick Riordan’s books?”

“Not just Greek and Roman and Egyptian. The gods from every culture. Japanese, Norse, Chinese, Arabian—“

MaLeila raised her hands to stop Tilila again before saying, “Right. All the gods. Are you trying to say that the gods are essentially aliens from outer space who came to our world, generously gave it order and civilization and language and culture, got into relationships with humanity, and had children who became the first sorcerers and sorceresses?”

“Yes,” Tilila confirmed.

“And furthermore, you think Tsubame might be one of these gods from long ago who was sealed away in a skirmish with another god or sorcerer?”

“Kind of,” Tilila said slowly.

MaLeila grabbed a slice of pizza and fell back against the sofa. When she first met Tsubame, she thought the woman was just another sorceress with delusions of grandeur that were never going to happen. Mildly annoying, but she had dealt with that before. An alien god, on the other hand, was a whole other level of insanity.

Tilila elaborated on her theory, saying that either Tsubame could have been sealed away in a duel or gotten lost coming to earth with the other gods millennia ago and accidently sealed herself. When Tilila told Marcel the theory the next morning, he was skeptical at best.

“So you want me to go before the council and tell them that Tsubame is an alien god—“

“You can leave out the alien part,” MaLeila added. “Tilila’s not even all the way sure about that.”

“But you still want me to tell the council that Tsubame is god, a forgotten Japanese god mind you, who was some way or another sealed away until recently and now she wants to find a way to rule the world again?” Marcel asked, an eyebrow raised. “They’re not going to even think of it. There are so many holes in your theory, they’ll dismiss before I can get it out my mouth.”

“Like what?” Tilila asked.

“The biggest one being that if she really is a god, why doesn’t she just use her powers to get what she wants? It would be much easier.”

“Because she lost some of her powers from being sealed,” Tilila argued. “MaLeila said it. She left because she wasn’t at her full strength.”

“Doesn’t mean she was powerful to begin with.”

“She caused a storm that knocked down trees and blew out windows when she appeared and when she disappeared everything was back in its place as though she hadn’t even come. Now tell me again she’s not a powerful sorceress,” Bastet argued.