Devil's Waltz Page 6

  “Quick, get in.” She slapped his back. “Have to hurry!” The door lifted, and she hopped in from the other side.

  “I got it,” Rowan panted, “One sec.” At last, his eyes cleared and he gave the car a good look.

  Bloody hell.

  It was one of the most expensive models produced by the Automaton Corporation, sleek and sexy just like her. Shaking his head, he fumbled in and sank onto the leather. Mint-scented air conditioning blew onto his neck and down his shirt. The door descended from above, shut with a hiss and click.

  “Like the car?” With a key-gesture by the onboard Holo Computer, she unlocked the steering wheel, and the engine hummed to life. “Uncle Darius got it for my seventeenth.”

  Chuckling, Rowan shuffled closer and patted her bare knee. “Yeah, it’s nice, and you sure have a lot of uncles in your life.”

  “Just two.” She shrugged. “I almost never see my other uncles.”

  Interesting. “They’re both part of your secret society?”

  The car backed out and zoomed across the lot almost without a single noise of acceleration. A minuscule smile diffused across her lips as she steered with one hand. “Maybe.” Her tone was clipped.

  “You’re not going to tell me about it, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Thought so.” He patted her knee a few times more—and let his hand rest on her leg. The touch of her skin evoked a fiery desire in his waist.

  She glanced down but didn’t appear to mind, smirking in a different way, almost as if she were hiding or expecting something. Expecting him to make good on his promises.

  One handed, she steered onto the main road, weaved into traffic too sparse for the time of day. Silvery-white monochrome highrises, some glassier than others, reflected sunlight like a gargantuan hall of mirrors. She drove impressively thanks to the glare-filtering windscreen, and she surprisingly did not activate the onboard AI most high-end models came with. She was having ample fun navigating the roads.

  Rowan could understand. Riding in one of these was like floating on a cloud in Roth’s simulation. The contrast to his parents’ car was like jumping from a vat of hot oil into cool chocolate milk. They’d never afford a luxury like this. His father would rave about his son’s girlfriend’s car to his work buddies for months. As for his mother… he wasn’t sure what she’d say after that display.

  Was that even my mother back there? What if they never get along?

  Rowan knew who he’d choose.

  As Gabrielle sped onto the raised fast lanes supported high above regular roads, he sighed a warm breath and looked out the left window into the Pacific. The view was stinkingly similar to the one in Aeon Chronicles by their newly captured spire. The graphics in the game were an exact replica of real life’s.

  “So.” Her tone and expression were a tad more serious than usual.

  “Hmm?” He gently squeezed her lower thigh. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m your girl friend now, eh?”

  Oh. That. He leaned over, palming higher up her leg for support. Whatever she was wearing under the coat was very short and exposed her thin legs nicely. He growled, “What were you going to say back there?”

  “Hehehe. Your fuck toy, of course!” Her mezzo-soprano laughter filled the car, ringing in his ears.

  “And why the hell would you say that?! To my parents! You naughty girl!” If she weren’t driving, he wouldn’t bent her over for a good long spanking.

  “Cus that’s what I am. Have ya already forgotten about the deal we made before the gods at the altar?”

  “Of course, I haven’t. But that doesn’t explain why you would say that to my parents.”

  She pouted. “I’m your proud little fucktoy. Dun ya want your folks to know?”

  She was much, much more than just a handful. This couldn’t be the typical girlfriend experience most guys had. Squeezing her leg, he bellowed, “NAUGHTY! You knew what you’re doing! Don’t do it again!”

  “Oh, Rowan.” She leaned away with a mock frown though kept gaze on the road, driving effortlessly. “Not so loud… My eardrums aren’t as durable in this world.” Her trench coat hiked up further. She was wearing either a miniskirt or minishorts. A really short pair. What a tease she was.

  He seized her inner thigh, groping. “Yeah, that’s right. There’s nothing you can do to resist me here. So be a good girl. Or else.” He leaned close, let her delicious tropical scent filled his airways, and nibbled her earlobe as she’d done to him. A weird gesture by his standards, but whatever turned her on was good enough for him. As long as it wasn’t too weird.

  “Or else?” Her giant eyes flickered to him. “Or else what?”

  “First there’d be a spanking…” He kept feeling higher up her leg. It was heavenly. “And you’ll know what comes next.” She was so soft and warm. So delicate.

  His thumbnail clumsily scratched against her tender skin as the car vibrated against a section of uneven road, leaving a thick white mark. No blood broke by some lucky chance.

  “Owie!” She shot him a glare. “I didn’t think ya meant ya’d kill me. Hmph. After everything I’ve done for your character. Meanie.”

  “Accident. Drive better,” he said and rubbed the spot while she mumbled fake whimpers. Her delicate real world body was alarming. He could kill her with his bare hands in this world, not that he would. But he could—maybe by accident. Which was all too true. She was vulnerable here. She could die from countless dangers, accidental or deliberate. A rabid animal. A fall from three or four stories. A car crash. She was as vulnerable as he. The realization was such a turn-off.

  But the way she was subtly spreading her bare legs wider was such a turn-on, inviting him. “Just what are you wearing under that?”

  She fought back abrupt giggles. Her cheeks inflated.

  “What’s so funny?” He grabbed her coat and undid the bottom two oversized buttons, unveiling her— “You slut!” he bellowed. She wore nothing but extremely provocative transparent panties. Saliva pooled into his mouth at the sight of her barely covered cherry.

  “Heeeey… I was in rush.” She was grinning ear-to-ear.

  “Shit excuse. You knew what you were doing.” He began aggressively feeling up her thigh all the way up the panties, savoring the moment as his jeans became tighter by the second. He undid the rest of her buttons for access to her chest, expecting an equally provocative bra, but— “You’re a good little fucktoy, aren’t you?” There was no bra. Her perky fun-muffins were clear on display, ready for him to devour whole.

  And also ready for all the other drivers to ogle if they looked left or right.

  Gabrielle seemed to notice that as he did, pulling her coat shut. “But I thought I’m your girl friend?”

  “You’re both. Girlfriend in public, and fucktoy in private.” He rubbed her crotch, her panties, to let the message sink in. The thin fabric riddled with gaps moistened. “Got that?”

  “Mmmmm. If ya say so.”

  “Yeah, I say so. Don’t forget it!” If he had to choose, he’d have her as his girlfriend and scrap the fucktoy part, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud when he could have both.

  “Kay.”

  At the corner of his eye, a middle-aged driver finally noticed something was going on in this car. Rowan jerked away after a last sensual stroke. Damn witnesses. He may be a sinful boy, but he wasn’t so depraved that he’d put on a show for all these assholes. He wasn’t a fool. With a car like this, they were a blazing beacon for attention. And if any police drones were patrolling the route, Roth would have to bail him out again. Rowan would rather not be at Uncle Vincent’s mercy for the umpteenth time.

  And on second thought, he wanted his first time with her to be more special than a car-fuck, you know? Something memorable and longer-lasting. Perhaps he’d take a picture or more. Those lasted forever.

  While Gabrielle whistled a raunchy tune, Rowan closed his eyes and focused on his soft heartbeat. His lusty blood cooled down to
normal in under twenty seconds, proving the renewed willpower he now possessed thanks to Draesear’s intervention and his brain that was healing more by the day. The earlier information download mentioned he’d given another twenty hours of stem-cell therapy; it had bolstered his brain’s recovery quite a bit. Though it was expensive stuff—a good chunk of this car’s price tag. Roth had made sure to emphasize that. They’d invested serious credits into Rowan.

  It was evident why Roth assigned Gabrielle to him: she was easy leverage over him. She’d probably reported everything back to their secret society, and Roth had decided to use Rowan’s growing attraction against him. Maybe this was all an act for her, explaining the persistent childish act, and maybe she would never be his real girlfriend. The disparity of wealth hinted so; he was trying to court a member of the upper-class elite. Mixed feelings grew at that realization, so Rowan stowed it for later. There wasn’t a point to make a scene here. He had the coming months to win her over, not counting the game’s reduced time compression.

  Soon enough, the city’s boundaries said goodbye, the car curving onto the intercity freeway. Revving with a purr, the car accelerated to almost four-fifths of its maximum velocity. Nearby trees and monochrome buildings passed in a smudge of gray and green. They had to be zooming at least four or five hundred miles per hour. He’d never been in a car this fast before, and she was driving so, so casually, apathetically even, like she’d go faster if there were fewer drivers nearby.

  Rowan almost missed the off-ramp to Westwind as it whipped by. “Where are we going?”

  Her tongue poked into her cheek. “Rural farmlands is the best description for it. About two hundred miles to the south.”

  He jolted straight. “That far? What about lag? A hundred miles would—”

  “Ya silly.” She giggled mockingly. “It’s a quantum supercomputer server. The pods work with a quantum network based on long-distance particle tunneling and entanglement. Zero lag at any distance.”

  Rowan bit back embarrassment of not knowing anything about quantum physics other than the name. He swallowed his pride and asked, “Particle tunneling? What’s that? How do you make a zero-lag network with that?”

  “Uuuhhh…” She tapped her chin for over ten seconds. “I read about it once while swimming in my cave. It’s super complicated. Don’t worry.”

  “Tch.”

  “Tch,” she mimicked and made a face, and in a sudden change of mood as though her brain short-circuited, she blanked, her lips forming an O shape. “Hey, Rowan?”

  This better be good. “What?”

  “We’re gonna be doin’ a lot of town building from now on. Do ya know how the city-building mechanics in this game works? Cus with my tier six boss bonus, my Occult Engineer class is basically a better version of the Builder profession. They merged together, similarly for Potion Making when I became a Witch Doctor.”

  Oh. “There was a lot of sections on the forums. Didn’t have time to read it all. What about it?”

  “Hmph. Thought so…” She sucked in a big, dramatic breath before explaining the intricacies of city-building in Aeon Chronicles.

  In summed-up terms: guided-free-form with magical mechanics. The Builder profession granted an engineering interface to design blueprints, constrained only by one’s creativity and engineering ingenuity. And said blueprints could be shared for easy collaboration. As one’s Builder profession levels up, an assortment of magical augmentations were unlocked, including wide-area shields or rooms larger on the inside or forges which burned on mana alone. The perks at higher levels were greatly sought after; apparently, the light-side players had built several sprawling cities dotted throughout the world.

  And that wasn’t even the good part. Unlike many other open world RPGs which allowed for free-form construction, Aeon Chronicles also had 'functional buildings’. These were specific designs and constructs which were blessed by the gods to provide additional perks on top of magical augments. These priceless blueprints were only found in raid and high-tier dungeon loot. A minority of players claimed this limited their creativity; others reasoned the system added a much-needed framework to free-form construction. Perhaps; perhaps not. Rowan liked the sound of the feature.

  Builders started with three free functional building designs: Settlement Hall, Outpost, and Adventurer Housing Plot.

  Settlement Halls were the humble beginnings of every major city and the primary structure. They could be upgraded up to tier ten. The Water Mages’ Spire had been one months ago.

  Outposts were like weaker Settlement Halls which could be upgraded fewer times. These had to be linked to an existing Settlement Hall.

  The lecture stopped mid-sentence.

  "Are ya listening?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Good. Thought ya zoned out." She continued with the lecture.

  Each Hall or Outpost had a range of influence allowing for monitoring and control of other functional or regular buildings including the Adventurer Housing Plot. The plot was a simple area-marker that designated land-ownership by one or more players. It allowed for ownership-transfer, quick demolition, home porting, and intruder detection.

  Best of all, Gabrielle’s class could do all of the above and much more.

  By the time she finished with the explanations, they were far into the rural farmlands and solarfields. To the right, fields upon fields were littered with bulky, oblong automatons tending to crops, and agile dog-like automatons rounded up herds of livestock. Not a single human farmer worked in sight. To the left, lines of parabolic solar panels stretched to the horizon. It was a sight to see. Rowan hadn’t been this far south since he was a kid.

  “So it’s like playing an RTS, especially with all the unit spawner buildings, huh?” He asked while rubbing her thigh.

  “RTS?”

  Right. Aeon Chronicles was her first major game. “Real Time Strategy. You basically play as a commander from an overhead god-perspective without an in-game character. You build functional structures, harvest resources, and make units to win a war.”

  “Oooooo that sounds fun. Kinda. Mmmm not really. I like having a character.”

  He grunted in agreement. “Same.”

  They chatted about various game features, some new and others revisionary. Topics included their World Boss bonuses, Zaine’s resurrection needs; and most crucially, the capabilities of those naval units and that zeppelin, which weren’t much. She also brought up the skill Divine Intervention: sacrifice souls to the goddess Ione, she could bend the rules of magic.

  The conversation was cut short, Rowan’s stomach growling loudly. Gabrielle introduced him to the the car’s mini-fridge, a few triangles of vegetarian sandwiches inside. Better than nothing.

  Obviously, there wasn’t time to make a detour to a restaurant or cook up a meal in the safe house. Maintenance’s end was ten minutes away. They were cutting the deadline close, and he was oh so tempted to let his groping hand wander further up and rid her of those panties. He held back; an unplanned sexcipade would potentially last for hours.

  “Oh, by the way,” she said at one point. “You’re still coming to my launch party.”

  By all means, he wasn’t going back on his word even if he wasn’t a raving fan of parties. Maybe hers was going to be bearable. “Fine.” This continued invitation could mean she wasn’t just acting. Yes, it could work out between them. New hope sprouted in Rowan’s chest.

  Chapter 6

  Airing Out

  The last of the chrome doggy automatons blurred across the window while Rowan lightly traced his fingers at the edge of those scandalous panties. Fields of untrimmed tall grass and weeds and other fauna he did not recognize sped into view, a stray cow here and there. Increasing numbers of skeletal bushes and trees without leaves sailed by. The freeway was less maintained here. The car bumping up and down every other second, slipped into a dead pine forest, not a single leaf in sight.

  A yellow-orange sign dashed by, too quick for Rowan to re
ad but he recognized the colors as anyone would. “We’re entering an active zone?”

  “The Scrubbers Agency went through again last month.” Her tone was calm, unlike his.

  “But why here?”

  “Didn’t Uncle Vincent explain?” She glanced at him. “So in case we have to declare Rowan the big bad cyber-criminal to the world, no one will accidentally find ya.”

  Bristling, he mumbled, “I know that, but…” It seemed rather excessive. He didn’t want to take risks when it came to stuff like this. Childhood classroom programming was kicking in, warning him at all costs to stay clear of all the radioactive zones leftover from World War Three. Not from the bombs, from all the power plants that’d melted down.