Vernor Hill Mall, 2 AM; rave night at the Court. The floor was packed, the bars were full, and Eden was in the prism. She'd already stripped down to hole-bitten fishnets and a half skirt, bouncing with her breasts on full display. Petra was DJ so EDM was on the menu; Eden loved it; loved the lights, loved the sound, loved the heat that made her pulse pound and her body slick with sweat. She was shining on her pedestal, glitter on her skin, dancing behind the prism's glass; so amped by the music she nearly tossed the helmet masking her face. Emojis flashed on its LCD screen, tipped by cat ears with RGB lights that flashed in the dark; it was Eden's last line of anonymity, more precious to her than a thread-bare shirt. She'd come so far, wouldn't it be a relief to lose the veil? What was the plastic but a weight on her face? Why not let it fall? Then the 'net could get an eye-full of the Court's number 1 slut, her relief on full display while they're jerking it behind their monitors.

Maybe next time.

"Eden," buzzed Petra over her earpiece. "Just saw Cyrus head upstairs."

Eden smiled, clutched the pole behind her and pumped out her chest in a feline stretch.

"Thanks for the heads up."

She turned and popped the back glass, a seamless door swung open to let her off stage. Barnes helped her to the floor. They were in the middle of the crowd, in the bump and grind, but Barnes was a beast of a man, huge and lean, and he looked dangerous in his three-piece suit. No one would touch Eden; they wouldn't dare.

"Done for tonight?" Barnes asked via the earpiece.

"Our VIPs just pulled in," She smiled up at him, beaming behind her mask. The screen flickered to a :D. "My night's just getting started. Dove can cover the floor."

Barnes sighed through his nose, a reflex of discontent muted by the music. "I'm supposed to stay here?"

"Raid's up there," she said, already weaving through the crowd.

"That doesn't make me any less pissed."

Eden didn't mind the side talk, he was looking out for her. Barnes meanwhile switched channels and broadcast to his pack, body-snatching skinwalkers hidden throughout the club.

"Keep eyes on her," he ordered. "If one of those prairie dog pups so much as twitch in her direction, rip out their throats."

"Yes boss," they replied.

Up an escalator, on the second floor, the Court looked more like the Macy's it once was. There had been a half-finished renovation that added winding halls to private booths.

Raid sat in one, a bronze giant in biker kicks and black leather, his arms spread over the back of a sofa. On the other side of the booth, across a round table, sat Cyrus flanked by two of his "prairie dogs”, gangsters from over the Rockies. Compared to Raid, Cyrus was a rat with a glib smile. He wasn’t impressed at all.

"Not smoking?" Cyrus asked, a cigarette waiting between his fingers. "We're friends here, right?"

Raid stared him down, the orange of his eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "No," he said in his signature contempt; an ice-cold anger that chilled the mood. "We're not friends."

Cyrus chuckled. "Frenemies, then." He put his cigarette between his lips and produced a second from the package in his hand. "Since you so graciously invited me, I'll make the first move," he said with a flourish of his hand. "I don't want a war with you. I want good vibes and good business; I like what you're doing out here, 'long as it stays out here, you know?" Cyrus flicked the spare cigarette onto the table. “So let’s smoke.”

Raid leaned forward, the sofa creaking beneath his weight. "You killed my people.

"What recourse is there, but war?"

Cyrus said nothing. They stared each other down in stillness, the beat of Petra's jam a gentle thump beneath their shoes. Then the booth opened and Eden waltzed inside.

"Baaabe," she crooned, passing Cyrus and his dogs. "You didn't tell me you were up here. I was dancing for you, and you weren't even watching."

Raid straightened up to speak and she took the opportunity to drop into his open lap, wound back into the seat of his lap until the cool of his belt buckle was felt between her cheeks. He reclined to accommodate her; she was intruding, again, and making herself the center of attention. Eden reached behind her head to touch the back of Raid’s neck and she arched her spine, so that Cyrus would get an eyeful of her tits. She wanted him to admire her; look at her plump breasts and soft thighs, and forget who glared over her shoulder.

Cyrus whistled as he looked Eden down. There was a tantalizing color to her swarthy skin, an ideal muscle tone; not too thick and not too lean. She looked sexy. She looked delicious.

"I'm getting mixed signals." Cyrus smiled. "Are we going to war, or are we splitting dinner?"

Raid glowered and his lips pursed to answer, but Eden stopped him by the bite of her nails on his spine. "Did you know Raid can't relax without a woman in his lap?" she mused with a teasing lilt. "He likes blood more than smoke. Babe, do you mind?"

His chest wound up in a breath. Eden felt it, a clutch of muscles strung tight beneath the thin threads of his shirt. She was interfering, again. Yet, when she was close, the haze of cigarettes couldn't reach him. He was filled with her scent, a flower like the softest chamomile, and he relaxed. Raid turned on his earpiece.

"Bar, three tails on ice. Make sure they're juicy."

One of Barnes' pack, working behind the bar, answered the order. "It'll be right up."

"Tails?" Cyrus asked, licking his lips. "Fobbing off some prey to us while you keep that top-shelf ass for yourself?"

"It's a drink," Raid said.

"House special," Eden added with a breathy sigh. "You'll love it."

Below their feet, the bartender vanished from the club floor, first into the kitchen and then a pantry beside. There were three mixing flasks on his tray, straight vodka and cubed ice, but missing their main ingredient. He set them down on a counter by shelves of silver-steel chests, digital faces revealing the temperatures each humming apparatus maintained. Exactly 37 degrees Fahrenheit, just above freezing, where life slowed to a crawl. They wouldn't die but sleep waiting.

A quick code unlocked a chest and the bartender extracted a smooth cylinder. He twisted the top and it popped open with a weak cry, and a hiss of pressurized air. Carefully, he extracted their treasure: a wriggling parasite worm suspended between metal pins. It wasn't just any grub, but a psychopede; a witch-brood larvae; power and flavor in equal measure. The bartender picked it out of its housing, held it over an open mixer, and skewered it with a silver needle. It cried again, writhed--all but frozen--in its pain, and bled a violet blood that trickled into the vodka below.

Juicy, indeed.

The barkeep placed the grub in the mixer, closed the top, and shook it hard.

Raid and Eden, meanwhile, made small talk with Cyrus. At least Eden did. Raid said nothing, glaring while he fondled Eden. It was better that way, she thought, otherwise there'd be a hole between Cyrus’ shoulders, burned straight through to the parking lot. They didn't need that sort of attention.

"So, tell me, how's operating out east?" Eden smiled and the emoji on her mask changed to a :3.

"Quiet, easy," Cyrus grinned. He took a drag from his cigarette and sighed a breath of smoke. "Humans are weak as shit. We control everything in Idaho now, everything that comes over the border, and everything from the Sound to the midwest."

"Feds aren't giving you trouble?" The helmet cocked to one side, curious.

"You mean the task force Whatever They're Called?" Cyrus sneered, knocking aside ash from his cig. "No. We're not fucking hicks. We know what op sec is; we know what we're doing." He gestured at Raid. "Unlike Captain Studscale over here: we got mountains, woods, and a thousand miles of backroads. We didn't set up our HQ in the middle of town, turn it into a club, and all but broadcast to the world 'Yo we be eating people, come on by for the buffet.' Dumbass."

"We're not thugs," Raid replied. "Hiding out in the woods isn't fitting in. It's not building a home."

Cyrus bounced back in his seat with a laugh. "Oh yeah, Raid Fuck-Boy Legends out here playing homemaker with a cam-girl." He folded in, leaned over his elbows with a grin. "You think if you nut in her enough times you’ll knock her up? Have a little grub baby crawling around?"

Nails pricked Raid's thighs as his pants snarled with Eden's fingers. Her mask was a barrier; a shield between her character and herself; yet still, that protection had a limit. Cyrus wanted to get under Raid’s skin but she was the one who felt the barbs.

"There's no going back," Raid said. He got ahead of Eden, before she showed her edge. "And there will be no going forward without humans. Without them, this planet will end up like the last."

"Is that what Faust thinks?"

"He and I are one and the same, or did you leave Tyamat in the car so you could make an ass of yourself on your own?"

The gangsters flanking Cyrus juddered and writhed, gnashing their teeth as they breathed their painful last.

"Fuck you."

Green pythons erupted from the gangsters' spines, rising in a crunch of bone and sputtering blood. They hissed and bared their fangs, and Eden's heart thumped hard in her breast, but she stayed firmly in Raid's lap. They weren't alone.

Faust burst through the ceiling, hurtled down as a fire and furled wings. The dragon-in-miniature, an approximation of the myth--shaped of alien tissue and weird bone--landed beside Raid to dwarf the serpents with its roar. Tyamat, the Hydra; Faust, the Dragon; symbiotic hunters trapped on Earth in pursuit of prey; their age was measured in the thousands and thousands of years, and not once had they got along.

"I came to tell you one thing," Tyamat's serpents dove toward Cyrus, wriggling beneath his clothes to slither in his skin. "Don't fuck with me."

Cyrus didn't sound like a man. His voice, warped by what coiled through his guts, was that of a bear, or a monster. Tyamat was there, visible first in the green that poisoned Cyrus’ dark eyes, and then in the snakes that burst from his shoulders. Dozens of eyes, a mass of swaying scales and fangs, faced Eden. Raid held her close, a hand to steady the flutter in her stomach.

"We're finally on the same page," he said and leaned back, his free hand settling on Faust's head. "You fucked with me by fucking with the feds, you fucked with me by fucking with my guys; you fucked with me by mouthing off in my home. Tyamat can slink away from a dead host, idiot. How many heads can you lose?"

Eden knew what was coming. She had already seen what came next. It didn't take a psychic to know that this was how Raid operated. He was strong, Faust was strong, maybe even the strongest of his kind; he used that strength to pound his enemies into submission, and wrench cooperation from the hands of his obstinate kin. They were predators, after all; fighting was second nature, and they weren't above cannibalizing each other.

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In a minute they'd tussle, Raid would kill Cyrus or beat him within an inch of his life, and Tyamat would submit to the dragon's will. But therein resentment would grow, and an empire built on hate was doomed to crumble. Eden wasn't strong like Raid was, but she wouldn't cower; not sit stunned beneath a serpent's gaze. She straightened back and pushed up, forward into Raid's hand, like she'd leap in Faust's place.

"Crow Valley. You've felt them, it's why you're here. It's why everyone's out West, blown in by the wind. You’ve seen it. You know it's true. The feds– the task force --it's all a symptom; the wake of those witches."

Knocks rapped the booth door. "Sir," a man cooed politely. "Your drinks."

Raid scoffed, a half laugh chased by a sigh. He patted Faust's head. "Come in."

The barkeeper entered, a tray of martinis balanced on one hand. He smiled, so comfortable with the Court's usual business that a pair of slumped-over corpses didn't faze him. He even acknowledged Cyrus’ cowl of snakes with a polite nod. The drinks were placed on the table, and with a bow he was gone.

Three glasses stood chilled by ice, each garnished by a bleeding grub; the psychopede larvae, coiled in vodka flavored with their blood. It colored the martini a weird violet that appeared to scintillate in the eyes, as if strobing with a heart beat. They had Cyrus’ attention.

"You hit a nest," he said flatly, fixated on the larvae before him. "Unless I’m misreading this?"

"A coven," Eden said. "Not the only one, either."

Cyrus took a martini in hand while Tyamat slithered down his shoulders, its many snakes tasting the blood-tinged air. "Crow Valley? That's what they call themselves?" Cyrus wondered, eyeing the larvae yet-living on its silver pin. It was cold, it was in pain, but above all it was afraid; the larvae sensed Cyrus’ attention and the presence of its singular predator; a symbiote. A forked tongue darted from his lips and he followed that taste with the deepest breath.

"Those parasite-loving witches are gathering in force," Raid continued. "I need to secure my flanks."

"You mean keep this bounty for yourself."

"What he means is that we need allies," Eden corrected. "Or the parasites will use humans to wipe you out."

"Crow Valley... and I'm supposed to believe a coven or two is such a threat that ‘me’ has to become ‘we’?"

"Believe it or don't,” Eden shrugged her shoulders before leaning forward, insistent. “How long has it been since you've had prey blood? Have you become so accustomed to calling humans prey that you've forgotten what you hunt? Your real enemy?"

Cyrus’ lip flinched. Clever bitch. He pulled the grub out by its pin and crunched it in his teeth, his bestial fangs punched straight through its flesh to drink deep its blood.

Silence. Ecstasy twitched in his face. Tyamat, impatient, launched at the spare larvae, the many snakes knocking aside the drinks as they made messes of their meals. Eden felt her own psychopede shirk at the sight, as if it could hide further in its cradle against her spine. Its fear spilled into her like a river; made her heart race and her face sweat in spite of herself. She quivered, suddenly more aware of Raid’s claws. He was thirsty, too. They caressed the side of her neck and she canted her head on reflex, offered up her throat and the bare flesh of her shoulder.

One bite. Raid's fangs pierced her neck and struck the psychopede layered inside. He drank of it and her both, Eden's blood sweetened by the parasite's nectar. To him, it was the most divine flavor. To her, it was a pinch before weightless ecstasy. The pain of penetration vanished with Raid's numbing poison. She could feel only his arms around her and the pressure of his lips, so tense she could hardly breathe, and that asphyxiation relaxing her in contrast. It was heaven.

Cyrus, meanwhile, had finished his drinks. He cracked his neck and cleaned his lips, savoring by the lap of his forked tongue another taste of prey-blood. It was the most immediate drug; clearest focus and boundless mind unlocked by a sip. He unwound, taller in his seat, like a snake reared up from its coil. His eyes, emerald green, had tightened into the thin slits of a viper.

"Too long," he said. Tyamat's snakes stood and together they glared. Light flashed from their eyes. The booth, the sofa, and all they saw, turned to stone. All but a circle of space around Raid and Faust, an area of perfect safety, where Tyamat's gaze had failed.

Raid released Eden gently; held her firmly, so she wouldn't fall from his lap. She was unharmed, oblivious to danger as she relished in her daze. Raid addressed Cyrus in silence, draconic pupils bright in the violet hue of hottest flame. More than the eyes of a mere lizard, his predatory diamonds flexed with a dark edge.

"And here I thought she was just a human." Cyrus whistled his approval, leering at Eden with a new arousal. "You really are keeping the top shelf for yourself."

"Leave."

Cyrus flinched. Tyamat's many heads withered into his body, back beneath the comfort and warmth of his skin. He adjusted the ruined jacket of his suit.

"Don't blame me for trying," he said, sighing as he stood. Cyrus, the gangster from over the hills, stepped callously over the corpse of his soldier. "If you want to have a get-together, you have my number. You bring the drinks, I'll bring the ammo; we'll have a shootout with friends."

The booth door opened and shut. Raid cracked his neck, reclined in the island of comfort that was the plush bit of his now stone sofa. Eden's eyes fluttered and she stirred in his lap.

"I... ahh... fuck...."

She couldn't feel her toes.

"Cyrus is on his way out," Raid said. "I don't know what he meant by get-together. I should have knocked his teeth out."

The numbness had begun to fade, but Eden's head was swirling. Heat and pain flushed her throat. She felt itchy in her own skin; wet between her thighs.

"Yeah," she whimpered. "Destroy everything in your way... level every slope, because you're too lazy to climb...."

Faust crawled up the now-stone wall of the booth and perched on its edge, observing as Eden wobbled out of Raid's lap. His thirst took the breath out of her, but focused his predatory instincts. He watched her every shake and stumble; followed her with his eyes, like a cat prowling behind an injured bird.

"Talking makes me look weak. Showing our hand makes us look desperate. He's here because he pissed me off. I didn't need his help, I needed him out of my way."

Eden chuckled, balanced herself on the booth wall. "So you just played along with me. What a tough guy, letting me take over your meeting. Hah, couldn't put your bitch in her place?"

Raid stood. Heat vented through his nostrils, fire licked the top of his lips. "I let you in because I love you. You live because I love you."

"Talking is for the weak," she sighed, head tilted back as though her neck was too weak to hold it up. "You're just showing your hand."

Talons erupted from Raid's hand and he swung for Eden's head, only to watch as it passed through a haze of gray smoke. She'd vanished; no--not vanished--he had her scent. He stormed out of the booth, looked about the hall, and saw blood smeared here and there on the walls. She wanted him to follow.

"You're desperate." Eden was speaking, a sultry whisper in the privacy of his mind. "Your back is against the wall. Even lions can get cornered, and this is how you lash out... like an animal."

Raid's heart thundered in his chest, each lead down Eden's little trail a dead end: empty booth; empty booth; empty booth; fuck! Laughter echoed down the hall and he ran heedless into a deepening dark, where the lights of the club dimmed, and the thrum of its party faded away.

"You're so strong, Raid." He heard Eden again, muted behind a lonely door. "Strong enough to lift the world on your shoulders, but...

"Is that enough?"

Raid opened the door and saw Eden sat beneath a spotlight, alone, as if picked out from a sea of black. Turning her head back toward him she said nothing, pushing up onto her knees and falling forward. She crawled away from him, her round butt framed by its skirt, swaying with the gentle slide of her thighs. A thin trail of arousal drooled from her pussy, the wet fold of her slit gleaming between her legs, all but demanding attention.

"Am I right or wrong?" Raid heard again in his mind. "Show me the difference."

Eden didn’t hear him approach, but felt Raid grip her butt in his palm and she stopped in place, pushing her chest low and her ass high, inviting him to mark her with his talons.

"Stupid or brilliant," she breathed. "Good or bad... ah!" The heat of Raid's cock made itself known as it pressed between her cheeks, his shaft throbbed with urgent arousal, and it was soaked in its pre. Raid tugged on her hip and she felt the bite of his claws, recognizing an invitation to grind on his length.

She didn't need another.

"Show me right from wrong," Eden whined, legs spread as she jerked Raid's dick with her ass. "Show me what to feel--!"

He yanked the mask off her head and she felt coolness on her freckled cheeks, her bleary opalescent eyes wincing with fresh tears. She shuddered and tried to look over her shoulder, but Raid pinned her head to the floor, a fist of amber hair caught between his fingers. Eden groaned, her scalp and throat pricked with pain, but she was impatient for more, wagging her butt into his cock like the tail of a happy dog.

Streaming wasn't enough; dancing wasn't enough; she stripped for the thrill and reveled in the adulation of lust-filled eyes, and it wasn't as good as this, not by half. No attention matched a dragon's; his obsession was her addiction, and she so loved to step on his toes.

"Fuck," she crooned as her slit was spread by his glans. She pushed back immediately to take the full of his length and her ass landed with a wet clap on Raid’s pelvis. He wanted to keep her down, but that wouldn’t stop her from engaging; from throwing her back into the pump of his hips.

There was no anger in the bounce between them, only relief. Eden had it in her yawning lips, heart-filled eyes rolled back in her head. Raid had it in his haggard breath and the clench of his talons on Eden's gleaming flesh. What a relief it was to put a brat in her place; what a relief to surrender to power. Eden fit Raid like a glove.

Her focus, meanwhile, diminished. Her illusion of darkness failed and the spotlight disappeared. The party went on in the club downstairs, its music audible again in the beat of the floor; they were in Raid's bedroom, on the ground just before his bed. She hadn't even made it that far inside before he mounted her ass, not that she was dying to fuck on the bed. They'd already done it there; they'd done it against the wall, against his dresser, and bent over his nightstand. He'd fucked her in his shower and in the hall beside, and although the music drowned out her cries, she wished everyone could hear how good she felt.

"Harder," she sighed. "Louder," she pleaded. Eden liked sound, to be crushed by noise, her troubles washed away in waves. Raid indulged her in groans, in the growl of his diaphragm, but Eden was nothing if not greedy for approval.

"Louder!"

"Enough!" Raid barked, curving his talon between Eden's lips. She sucked it without hesitation, drooled on it like it was his waiting cock.

"I'm almost finished, understand--?" Raid's breath hitched, his thoughts derailed by pleasure. "Almost through with you--through with this--for the last time... ah...!"

He tried to rise above his animal satisfaction, take command of his own instincts, but it was futile. Raid couldn't feel the tip of his dick, so lost it was in the divine heat of Eden's pussy. His eyes, glazed over, couldn't see more than tangled amber and blushed-red lips.

"Stay here," he uttered. "Stay down for good. Here, beneath me... here, ah... here is where you belong. Ass up, wanting; wet and waiting... nngh!

"Cum!"

He bottomed out in her pussy and her slit fluttered like a broken vice, and Eden--so high above the clouds– shattered in the wake of her orgasm, obeying at last.

"Yeash," she garbled on his talon. "Yeagsh, yeaass...."

Viscous cum like liquid fire filled her pussy, creaming between the swollen lips of her slit to splatter onto the floor. Raid, overwhelmed, didn't stop; he hadn't even realized he’d cum until it dripped down his balls. He'd fucked it into her, made a mess of her thighs and his clothes, but he loved the way she looked with her ass glazed by his cum; he loved how it poured from her flinching slit, and how her pussy flexed and gasped, as if desperate for more.

Eden panted, released from his grip. It felt like she'd crumble without his hands, but she made her best effort to keep her butt in the air, anything to hold his attention and make his eyes linger.

"Good girl."

Approval, like a cool breeze. It refreshed her, let all the muscles unwind, and Eden's hip slumped to the floor. Raid stood to remove his belt. She heard it clack and rattle from his waist, the leather length tossed to be forgotten elsewhere; abandoned together with his pants, his jacket, and shirt.

Eden watched from where she lay, opalescent eyes shifting in the dark. They were white at times and gray at others, and close inspection revealed an iridescent gleam, like light itself had crystallized inside her. Hidden beneath thick lashes, her narrow gaze appeared shut, and so she admired Raid without complaint.

He was not the tallest man, although taller than her, and not the most muscular either, although he had a fine physique. He was nevertheless a giant in her eyes, so enormous in character and steady with intention, that if he were a hair bigger he’d crush the world with his gait.

Eden thought, surely there were doubts somewhere in him, a fear buried in the crevice of his heart, however lonely it must be. Yet, he never lacked confidence. There he was, walking to his bed, head straight on square shoulders. Eden wished he'd fret over her comfort, but she'd teased him enough. It wasn't the time to call for him to lift her by the hand, but to pursue him, crawl on her hands and knees, and climb into their bed.

He had dropped onto his back, legs spread atop a disused comforter, head up and supported on pillows. His arms had folded over his chest, his fingers entwined; eyes shut and breath scant, like a dreamer in waiting. Eden slunk between his thighs like a cat on soft paws. Her nails drew a shallow mark up his taut leg, deflected at times by islands of odd scales on his skin.

Raid was, of course, a monster; monstrous, inside and out; therein, most-ironically, the perfect refuge from a civilized world. Eden breathed deep of his scent. She kissed his balls and licked the cum off her lips. The taste itself was nothing special, but Raid deserved her praise. She showered kisses further up his softening shaft and he returned the affection with his hand, heavy on her head.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

"4 to 7," she answered between licks. "Mmh... a collab with Zumi, we're playing Cartknight."

"I see."

"Does that bother you?"

"It hurts you."

Eden closed her eyes. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his crotch where she could pretend to sleep. "It's not as bad now. It's not... like I'm going to break again, or anything."

"You should quit. Stay here."

"Asking me to move in?"

"Asking you to move on," he said.

"Move away, you mean."

"You're not human anymore. You don't have to play games for them. You don't need their money."

"Now you sound jealous," she teased.

"Worried," he said.

"Worried?"

"I can protect you when you're here."

"Babe, it's just streaming. Those people... they're my subscribers. They're just my fans."

Raid sneered and folded back his arms, tucking his hands behind his head. "Yeah. Forget it, then."

"I'll be okay."

"I know."

Eden took a deep breath and sighed long against his thigh. He wasn't wrong to worry, but wrong about her feelings, and so he was wrong all the same. She wasn't who she was before. He who could split the sea with his gaze worried for her and that made her happy; it made all the difference.