Page 3 of The Lich's Leverage

Ice needles of pain pierced every inch of me as a shock from the collar at my neck ran through me. I let the feeling fade before I stood. A fight wasn’t something that interested me, so I wasn’t going to object again. We’d been warned on arrival that if we didn’t do as we were told, then we’d be locked up in solitary confinement. I couldn’t afford that. I had to meet her, whoever she was. The beautiful storm, somewhere in this prison. There was a tang of fate in my mouth.

I pulled myself to my feet and nodded sourly at the guard before stepping forward. He leapt back, trying to maintain the distance between us. No one wants to risk contact with a lich. We can drain the life energy of anyone with a touch. If we are feeling really nasty, we can even absorb their soul. I’d swallowed several. So, there are no friendly hugs or casual arm brushes for liches. Only an eternity of space between you and every other living creature. Even animals knew to keep their distance from me. I gestured for the guard to go first, and he backed out, keeping an eye on me.

“Forward.”

He moved behind me and directed me out of the cell block. I walked as slowly as I thought I could get away with and observed the other inmates we passed. They peered at me. Some with disgust. Some backed away into the depths of their cells as soon as they saw me. I didn’t think I’d have much trouble with the other inmates. But I wouldn’t make any friends either. Nothing unusual there.

As we walked, I realized no one else was moving the way I was. The guards directed me down some stairs and into a basement. It was dark, but that didn’t bother me. I could see well enough in any non-magical darkness. The guard prodded me with the baton again.

“If you can catch any rats, you can eat ’em.”

I turned and stared at the guard at the door. His hand rested on the control for my shock collar.

“So, I am to be your glorified prison cat, then?”

The guard snorted.

“It’s the best you are going to get in here. This or die of hunger. Either is fine with me.”

“Such gracious hospitality.”

The sarcasm dripped out of my words, but the guard said nothing more. I turned back into the darkness of the room. The rats scuttled about in the dark corners. I stood. My body felt tight. Hunger gnawed at me. I’d planned to die here as quickly as possible. I thought of the beautiful storm waiting somewhere here in the prison for me. For now, there was something to live for. Rats would have to do.

Chapter 3

Heather

Brains are weird. After being awake whirring with anxiety half the night, I’d eventually fallen asleep to strange erotic dreams about the lich. I dreamt he’d visited me in my room, and just him being there had sent my body into raptures of pleasure. I’d woken to an orgasm without him even touching me, and then fell back asleep into the same dream. We had danced around each other, and the closer we got the more pleasure I felt.

Now I was terrified about my first session with him, but still feeling warm with arousal. My dream orgasms were always different from anything I could achieve awake. Awake left me aching for more and unsatisfied. And that was with me taking care of myself. I hadn’t been with many men. But when I had, I’d never really been able to let go fully. There was always anxiety and tension. Am I making enough noise? Too much noise? Am I embarrassing myself? How does my body look? In dreams none of that matters. It was always easy and completely mind-blowing.

I wandered into the exercise yard. Lyla was already there. Gathered in front of her were a selection of the prisoners who had earned yard time. Prisoners had to prove themselves to be working hard at rehabilitation to be trusted in groups in the small yard. For a long time no prisoners had been allowed out here. It had stood empty, deemed too difficult to keep an eye on the monsters without the ability to lockdown the way you could inside. But Lyla had created this initiative and set it all up. She’d lobbied hard for it and annoyed the warden by going over his head. The yard was right in the center of the prison, and all the buildings and prison cell blocks surrounded it in a hexagon shape.

“Now stretch up!”

Lyla’s voice echoed, and all the monsters stretched above their heads. Right at the front, staring at Lyla, was a dragon. He stood on the back two of his 4 legs and stretched up, balancing with his wings. He was doing the same as all the other monsters. But something about him drew my gaze. There was an intensity about how he watched her. I saw her eyes flicking to him and her face flush.

There’s something going on there.

My heart clenched. She was one of the people sent here by the seer, given a path to encounter their fated mate. The seer had only said one thing to me when I saw her.

“Your fated mate is already dead. Follow your heart wherever it wants to take you.”

It was hard to explain to people the grief you feel for someone you’ve never met but was supposed to be important. For a life that I daydreamed about but would never happen. For wishing that someone would come to save me, but having to save myself.

“Downward dog.”

All the monsters in front of me planked and then stuck their asses in the air. Rows of monsters, a lot of whom were only wearing loincloths or furs and didn’t have the same body hang up issues of humans. Monster asses fully on display and all pointing at me. All sorts of strange genitals hanging down. I felt my face getting hot. I was probably bright red. I saw Lyla looking over at me and smirking. I stifled a laugh and ran back inside. Lack of self-consciousness indeed. Maybe yoga was good for the mind after all.

I reached my therapy room just in time to pull out the new blankets I had ordered, and tucked them around the client chair. They formed a sort of pink, lavender and yellow fluffy chair cocoon. I tucked another yellow one around myself. I wanted my client to see me being okay with being cozy and comfortable. Maybe that way he wouldn’t want to drain me dry and eat my soul. Could pastels save your life? I hoped so.

As the clock ticked closer and closer to the start of the session, my breathing got shallower and shallower. It felt like I was waiting for my execution. A lamb to the slaughter. I was all for rehabilitation, but was putting us at risk like this worth it? I reached behind me to the collar control tucked in my chair. I let my hand rest on it for comfort. A memory of the dream I’d had flitted through my brain. Warmth crept up my body.

For gods’ sake. Being aroused by the thought of your client isn’t any better than having an anxiety attack. You haven’t even met him, weirdo.

Voices sounded outside the door. My heart began hammering.

You are going to fuck this up.

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