Текст книги "Heat"
Автор книги: R. Lee Smith
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He released her.
She stood there.
“Where are you?” one of the humans shouted. It sounded like Kane’s wasn’t the only temper fraying here tonight. “Bitch, are you really this stupid? You’re going to die out here!”
“Go to them,” Kane ordered, and slipped back into the shadows.
She did not react right away. She seemed frozen in place, her eyes like pools of starry night as she watched him go. Just when Kane had decided that she wouldn’t move at all, that he’d managed to fuck up another female just like the yellow-haired one, she raised her voice and called, “I’m over here!”
The humans both turned in her direction, and Raven went towards them, her eyes darting back to the trees where she no doubt thought Kane was hiding, never realizing that he kept pace with her as she returned to the groundcar.
“I’m right here,” she said again, stepping out onto the roadside. She even tried to smile as the male humans advanced on her. “Got carried away, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” one of the males said angrily. “You almost broke my nose, you numb cunt.”
“Hey, come on,” said the other, more placating if less sincere. “Lighten up. I got kicked in the balls and I’m still smiling. You just owe me a little more, right, Raven? Come on. Let’s get in the car.”
All their attention was fixed on Raven. Neither one of them glanced around as Kane came up behind them. He caught the largest one, pulled him back, and tracheated him in one swift motion. The second human kept walking for a few steps, still making his coaxing noises at the female he was trying to trap. Not until the silenced human hit the ground, rasping and clawing at his open throat, did he turn around.
Kane was ready for an attack, but did not anticipate the human’s choice of target.
“You set us up!” the human shouted, and lunged at Raven.
She was quick, dodging the punch he aimed at her and taking it on the shoulder instead of the eye. And then, to Kane’s astonishment, she attacked back, laying the human’s face open with her flimsy claws and then kicking him in the groin. She spat on the male’s face when he dropped to his knees, and yelled, “That’s for calling me names!”
Urak’s ghost spoke up in his rough, amused whisper, ‘Boy, you could not have picked a worse slave if you’d custom-ordered one from the unsuitable-slave store.’
There were things Kane needed to say to her, and things he needed to do before the sun rose and started its hellish work on him, but he put those things aside for now. It was time to make a few things clear.
Kane stepped over his muted human and got a handful of the other male’s hair. Raven gave him room, breathing hard, now directing her furious gaze at him as well as at the fallen humans. Kane didn’t mind. He wanted her to be looking at him.
He hooked the claws of one hand under the knob of bone at the base of the human’s skull and broke it off with a wet crack. He didn’t take his eyes off her; if she ran, it would be now, and he had to be ready.
The female paled, so rapidly and so completely, her face almost seemed to start glowing. She gave back a pace, her eyes huge as she stared at the chunk of bone in his hand, but she didn’t run.
Kane grunted and tossed the chunk of bone to the ground between her feet. She backed up again, bumping hard into the side of the groundcar, and clapped a hand to her mouth.
“We need to have an understanding,” Kane said again, and slung his pack off his shoulder. He took his harvester, loaded the first empty ampule, and took what he needed from the human’s exposed brain. Several drops of pale liquid collected in the bottom of the ampule, and Kane ejected the spent gland. It struck the side of Raven’s leg and she slapped at it with a coarse crowing sound. Kane waited until she was done brushing and cleaning at her hands, and then quietly said, “Bring me the other one.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide.
Kane waited, silently counting the seconds until she obeyed. Thirty-three in all. She was going to need some serious training.
She went to the muted male and tugged at his clothing ineffectively. After a few stops and starts, she got a good grip on his arm and dragged him, still weakly struggling, over to where Kane waited.
He harvested the male, held the vial up to the light of the groundcar to assess its volume, and then packed it away. Calibrating the computer to accept human readings was the work of mere seconds this time around, and then Kane was ready. He looked at his female. “Come here,” he said, and snapped his fingers.
She clasped her hands together, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and finally came.
The instant she was within reach, Kane exploded up from the ground, grabbed her by her throat and threw her violently against the roof of the groundcar (but not too violently, oh no, even Kane could be careful). He put his face right next to hers and snarled, “Do I look like I enjoy waiting?”
She screamed, kicking and thrashing blindly at him.
Kane punched her in the stomach (but carefully, oh so carefully), and she arched away from him, making a gasping, retching sound. He thumped her head once on the groundcar’s roof, and then said, “Do I?”
“No!” she managed to say. Her hands were on his chest, half-clutching and half-pushing.
He set her on her feet and went to stand in the light of the groundcar. He faced her grimly and snapped his fingers as he dropped to one knee.
She came, but not eagerly, and tried to resist him when he closed his hand around her wrist. He punched her in the belly and yanked her down when she barked out her breath, flipping her as she fell to catch her legs in a vise of his. He twisted one arm behind her and reached into his pack for the scanner.
She went still as death at once. “What is that?”
“I need to look at your blood,” he told her, and inserted the tip of the scanner. “You’re no good to me if you aren’t clean.”
She watched the blood collect through the clear sides of the scanner, her face white and plainly frightened. “I don’t really have that stuff I told you,” she whispered.
He made no reply, but he did let her slide out of his grip and sit down on her own power as he watched the monitor. At last, an electronic chime sounded, the ready-mark changed from gold to green, and letters spilled out in orderly rows. Kane read, his eyes narrowing.
She wasn’t clean. She was marginally malnourished and the toxic leavings of many drugs were there, as well as the disease Urak called the Creeping Waste, and that was a nuisance. On the other plate, there wasn’t anything wrong with her that couldn’t be fixed. It would take time, though. The Creeping Waste wasn’t as contagious to Jotan as it was to humans, but it was still deadly and unlike the human strain, it couldn’t be cleansed completely. Anyone stupid enough to swap fluids with the infected could find themselves suffering the result for the rest of their dramatically shortened life. Kane would have to fix it before he could mate with her, fixing it would take seventeen hours at the very least, and in the meantime, the sun would be burning down and filling his tsesac with hell.
Kane ran his eyes up and down the female’s body, weighing the urgency of his need against the frustration of having to stumble along for damned near a whole day with a female he couldn’t even fuck. And for the first time, Kane noticed her hair.
There were two stripes of white framing her face, but the rest was dark, and up until now, between one thing and another, that was all he had really noticed. Here, now, in the light of the groundcar and with time to catch his breath and think, Kane saw that what he had seen merely as ‘dark’ before was actually purple. A deep, dark, amazing shade of purple.
He’d never seen a human with purple hair before. The sight of it completely interrupted his chain of increasingly furious thought and he reached out to take some of it in hand. It flowed soft and straight between his fingers, not quite shoulder-length, but thick and full despite that.
Still…seventeen hours was a long time to wait just to fuck a human with purple hair.
But was there any guarantee he’d find another one in the same amount of time?
He really, really liked her hair…
Kane began to craft the necessary programs, a delicate mix of cleansers, filters, and aggressive anti-viral nanozymes. It was considerably less complicated than trying to correct the yellow-haired female’s congenital glucose disorder, but it still took time, and Kane was painfully aware that there were two bodies right there by the side of the road where anyone might roll by and see them.
At last, he was done and the dermisprayer was loaded yet again. He reached out for Raven’s arm and she flinched back and tried to cover her face.
Kane raised his eyebrows slightly, and then punched her in the stomach. “Don’t do that,” he said patiently as she doubled over, “If you expect to be hit, then I start thinking you probably need to be hit. Get up.”
She did, and he gripped Raven’s wrist and injected her just above the blue trace of a vein. The nanozymes went into her flesh on a burst of air and left a faint red circle behind for her to rub at.
“There,” he said, and leaned back against the front bolster of the groundcar. He offered her a thin smile. “You and I are going to be traveling together for a little while,” he told her.
She didn’t look surprised. Not pleased by any stretch of the imagination, but not surprised. She only waited, watching him with her wary eyes.
“If you behave yourself and obey me, you are going to live to see the back of me,” he said then. It was a thing Urak had been known to say from time to time, and he had always kept his word. Urak had often told him that a certain sort of person could always see a lie, however frightened or desperate they were, and Kane knew without question that Raven was exactly that sort of person.
Raven’s eyes narrowed now, searching his, and she must have seen the truth of it somewhere inside him because she ultimately nodded and seemed to relax, just a little.
Kane tapped a claw against the metal side of the groundcar. “What is this?”
“A car.”
“Can you pilot it?”
“Yes.”
“If you try to hurt me with it, you will die.” Kane raised his hand, studded grey with human brain matter, and raked his claws slowly through the air. “Badly.”
She nodded, pale as the face of the moon.
“Good.” Kane rose, shouldering his gear, and gathered up the corpses. He went to hide them from casual scrutiny and didn’t even have to order the female to stay with him. She followed, silent and obedient, at his heels.
*
There was both food and drink in the groundcar, although neither were immediately recognizable to Kane’s eyes. The food was something she called a ‘burger’, which was at least partially meat, and Kane ate all three of them, even the ones that the humans had taken bites out of. The drinks were sweet enough to be nearly undrinkable, and most of these he forced on Raven. The nanozymes cycling through her body would make her extremely susceptible to dehydration, enough that she might easily die. He told her none of this, of course, but he made her drink every last drop of what there was in the cups she showed him.
Kane rested in the seat beside her as she drove. He didn’t trust her enough to sleep, but he dozed a little as the sun rose. It was cool inside the car, cool and even a little breezy, and Kane savored the lull in weather with numb gratitude. By the time the weather turned foul again, perhaps the female would be ready and safe.
Hours passed without a word between them. The mountains fell behind them, the ground turned from stony and red to soft and brown, but it was all dry. The trees were nothing but dormant balefires. Even the sky looked thin and ready to spark.
Raven made a low coughing sound, bringing him out of his brooding, half-asleep inspection of the scenery. “We’re almost out of gas,” she said when he glanced at her.
The word meant nothing to him. Fuel for the groundcar, he supposed. “Get more,” he said. There had passed plenty of buildings and outposts along the way. Surely one of them could provide fuel.
“I don’t have any money,” she said.
Kane bared his teeth and aimed a sour curse at himself in lieu of the sound cuff Urak was not around to give him. Of course she would need money. And the two males had probably had the stuff. He hadn’t even thought to check the bodies for necessities. “Stop then,” he said. “We need to hide the car.”
Raven looked around at the empty road, the towering trees. “But-“
“Don’t argue with me, human.”
She pressed her lips tightly together and stared straight ahead. When she found the scars of a groundcar’s passage etched in the overgrowth to one side of the road, she turned off. It wasn’t a proper travel-way, and the car bumped hard as it tried to navigate the forest. When they were well away from the main road and completely lost to sight, Raven shut off the engines and sat back and looked at him.
Kane opened his door and heat struck him like the blast from unshielded engines. He rocked back, his senses swimming, realizing only then that the groundcar had some sort of climate controls and Raven had been using them. He was torn between feeling gratitude at this respite and unreasoning fury at her for not warning him. In the end, he settled for forcing himself out into the baking air and saying nothing to her except, “Let’s go.”
They walked for ages under the leaden stare of Earth’s baleful sun. Before one hundred paces had passed, Kane could feel the dull warmth and itch of seed growing in his tsesac. The itch became a swelling. The swelling became pain. The woods were all around them, deep and heavy and still, and the female was right beside him, close enough for him to smell her musky sweat. Right here. Completely unavailable to him.
“Stop!” Kane roared suddenly.
If she had jumped back (a natural-enough reaction, even in his extremity, Kane could admit that) he would have had an excuse to seize her, and having done that, he probably would have thrown her down and damned the consequences. But she did not jump back. She stopped dead in her tracks and watched him.
Kane got a breath in him—every breath he took was hot enough to have just passed from some unseen other’s mouth, suffocating him right out in the wide open—and then another, and tried to start walking again. The sensation of his clothing scouring at his stiffening cock made that impossible. He stopped again, leaning hard against the nearest tree, and tried to think what to do.
How long did the Heat season last on this miserable planet? He’d been here almost as many times as he’d had years in his life, and it had never, never been this hot. Urak, who could lay down five trips to Earth for every one of Kane’s, had never even mentioned that it could be this hot. And this was Urak’s favorite hunting ground. He’d have known!
Kane pulled the pack from his shoulder and opened it to check the time. When he saw that the female still had more than seven hours before she was safe for him to touch, Kane had to stoop, cautious as an old man, and put the pack down all the way out of his hands to keep from smashing it to pieces. That done, he stepped away from it and went to lean against another tree.
He wanted nothing more than to empty himself in his captured female, or failing that, to scratch until he dug the itch out in gouts of blood and meat. He could do neither. And he had seven hours before any other option presented itself. Kane dropped his hand to his throbbing shaft and rubbed, gritting his teeth against the ache and the unfairness of it.
“Are you going to rape me?” the human asked quietly.
Kane glared at her, pressing the heel of his hand over the hardest part of him and pushing roughly up and down along its straining length.
“Are you…” Raven swallowed hard. “Are you going to kill me first or second?”
She wasn’t making a damned bit of sense. “First or second to what?” Kane asked, spitting the words out through tightly-clenched teeth.
“Raping me.”
She was staring at the bulge beneath his hand, and he caught her meaning at last.
He nodded. “But I’m not going to kill you unless you make me,” he said. “I want to keep you as long as I can.”
He couldn’t stand it any more. Sweat was pouring down his body and his blood was pounding through him like a hammer, keeping time with the throbbing of his cock. His seed sat in him like molten lead, and whether the female was ready or not, it had to come out. Kane wrenched his coverings open and gripped his cock, not entirely unmindful of the human’s sharp flinch, but beyond the ability to care.
“You’re going to rape me,” she said dully.
“Not yet,” he hissed, moving his fist hard, feeling nothing yet but the churn of Heat pricking deep in his tsesac.
She watched him with huge eyes as he forced himself to a curt, spastic release, and her eyes only got bigger when he rubbed his cum into his rigid cock and kept on. His whole gut was on fire. This fucking weather!
When he managed a second spurt of quick-cum, he craned his neck to see the monitor in his open pack. Only eleven minutes had passed since he had begun. Chok.
“Do you want…um…”
“Now is not the time to annoy me.” He dropped his hand to the swollen burn of his tsesac and ground at it, trying to will it to react to the oils of his quick-cum. The pain was exquisite and the act was futile.
“I could give you a blowjob.”
Her voice was a knife of irritation going in deep beneath the frustration and growing rage that already twisted through him. Kane squeezed his eyes open and stared at her through streams of sweat, scarcely able to comprehend any of her language, much less the last word. “A what?”
She seemed a little stymied by explanation. Her eyes twitched toward his moving hand and she dropped hesitantly to her knees and came towards him.
Kane rocked back at once, raising one foot to kick her. He flexed the talons warningly in her face, baring his teeth. “Seven hours!” he snarled.
She looked more affronted than afraid. “I’m not going to fuck you, I’m just going to help you out a little.”
Kane lowered his talons to grip the ground again. Help, she’d said, as if he could believe that. “Fuck?”
Raven made a circle of her two fingers and thrust another rapidly through it in a crude but perfectly understandable demonstration. “Fuck,” she said. “You Tarzan, me Jane, we fuck.”
Oh. Funny, he’d thought the word a curse when he’d heard it used earlier. Then again, Jotan used all but the most academic words for ‘sex’ to swear by. Maybe there were such a thing as universal curses.
Kane closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree, wincing as another spasm clawed its way insistently up from his tsesac. “Seven hours,” he said again. And she had better be ready for it, because he intended to fuck her right down through this shit-begotten planet and out the other side.
Still…listening to her at least gave him something besides Heat to occupy his mind. “What’s a blowjob?”
Her hand closed around his cock, just above his.
He jerked back and swung, knocking her down hard enough to actually flip her completely over and onto her belly. “Don’t!” he roared. “Don’t do that!”
She raised her head and swiped hair out of her face. Her eyes were curtained in shadow, but they gleamed at him watchfully.
“You are not clean!” he spat. “And if I can stand to wait seven hours until you are, you sure as chok can, too! Stay down!”
Raven slid up to her knees, moving like she was poised on a pane of too-thin glass over a sea of spikes. She never took her eyes from him. Softly, she said, “Sometimes it helps if someone else does it. We can do this and be safe. I promise I’m clean enough for that.”
Heat cramped up with devastating force, sending a shudder through Kane so violent, it was nearly a seizure. When he was able to lock down on his muscles again, Raven had come closer. She reached up between his thighs and took hold of him again. This time, Kane let his hands drop away. He didn’t even know if he believed her and he knew damned well he didn’t trust her, but this was eight days now and he did not care anymore.
Raven squeezed, very lightly, testing him, and when he did not move, she crawled closer and took him into her mouth.
Oh. Blowjob. That’s what they called that here. Kane had never experienced one before. It took a talented female and a very trusting male, and the life of an off-world criminal did not lend itself to either.
She was licking at him, sucking as she stroked her fist up and down his length. No doubt she meant to be winsome in some way, but his tsesac was burning with acid seed, and he was almost insane with the need to be rid of it. He covered her hand with his and squeezed hard, snarling, “Faster!”
Raven could be obedient when she wanted to be, clearly. She adjusted her grip at once to that of steely enclosure, milking him in movements that were ecstatically brutal, and she was right—just the fact that it was someone else was a help.
And then there was her mouth. She sucked at his glans and slid her tongue beneath the thin slip-skin there, sometimes hard and sometimes gentle, drooling copiously to coat her hands with slickness. Every so often, she would nip at him very carefully, bringing a pleasure so immediate, it came almost as a physical blow.
Kane felt his quick-cum bursting out of him—once, twice, and then in gratifying rhythm. He curled around her without thinking, his hands rising to rest on her bobbing head, too tired to even thrust at her. She sucked faster, her whole upper body rocking with her pumping motions. He was shooting quick-cum into her mouth at nearly every squeezing pull of her human hands, and she kept trying to draw back and swallow. He didn’t know the word for ‘drool’, or he’d have roared it full into her face. He could only clench her by the hair and keep her moving, grinding against her mouth as he felt climax nearing.
She struggled up suddenly and let a mouthful of his own quick-cum and her drool spatter in ropes over his thighs and belly. She seized him in both hands and worked the mixture into his cock, and that, finally, brought on the explosion. Heat took him, and Kane threw back his head and screamed agony and ecstasy at the tree-cloaked sky.
Raven sputtered back as his true-seed erupted out of him, spraying her jaws and her clothing with gouts of white. Kane slid his eyes open to watch her swipe at her face and then closed them again.
Quiet fell. The rustle of branches, the distant drumming of insects, and his own ragged, wasted breath were all that Kane could hear. He thought he could sleep.
“Are you okay now?”
Kane smiled wearily. “I heard that.”
He felt her stiffen. “Heard what?”
“Is he sick and am I going to get it?” Kane opened his eyes and his smile broadened when he saw the trapped look in Raven’s eyes. “No,” he said. “I’m not. And no, you aren’t.”
She looked at him a long time before nodding, and then she sat back and brushed at the drying stains on her clothing.
Kane glanced at the timer on his monitor and felt a sleepy sting of surprise. She’d done in mere minutes what would have taken him hours to do on his own, and that with just her hands and mouth. That was good. Almost as good as rolling in the Flesh-halls of Jota, where Heat seasons lasted only a few hours of the day for maybe nine days a season.
And where he had lain, Kane reflected as his eyes slid shut once more. Where he had lain floating on his back in a drift of bedding while one female rode him furiously and others rubbed and reached for him from all sides. Where the oils of mating coated every body to a high sheen, and the scent of musky sex could keep a man drugged for hours while females fought through their own frenzy, mounting his hands in lustful desperation and thrusting their hands between the thighs of his partner to grip at the base of his cock…
Good days.
With a start, Kane realized he was nearly asleep and he sat up fast.
Raven had been quietly bedding down beside him, but at his unexpected movement she jerked away and threw up one hand as a shield before remembering how he rewarded that sort of thing.
He chose to overlook it, although he gave her hand a hard stare to let her know he’d seen it. When he met her eyes again, he said, “How often can you do that?”
She’d been expecting a blow for flinching, and the question caught her off-guard. “As often as you want, I guess,” she stammered.
He was going to need her again before it cooled, he was sure. And when night fell, they needed to travel. Kane growled, thinking.
At last, he lay down, pillowing his head on one arm, and gestured for her to slide right up against him. He put his arm around her waist, able now to feel every breath, every slight movement. He smiled and shut his eyes. “Sleep,” he said. “When I want you, you need to be ready.”
She didn’t answer, but that was all right. Just the feel of her body beneath his arm was all the answer Kane needed. He drifted off to sleep.
*
“Why, baby? Mary, why?”
Those were the last words Raven’s mother had said to her, and now, lying beneath the arm of this…this Devil-thing that had captured her, the girl who had been born Mary Frances Carter realized they would probably be the last words she ever heard her mom say. Of all the loose ends Raven had left behind her in her life, that echoing, unanswered question bothered her the most.
Why had she done it? Why run off to California and join the throngs of teenage runaways? Why change from Barbies to doobies in less than a week? Looking back, even from the tremendous vantage point this horror had gifted her with, Raven had no idea what had prompted her to run. All the other runaways she’d hung out with in L.A. had dramatic stories of rape, incest, drugs, beatings, or some combination of all four. Not Raven. No, little Mary Carter had a dad who believed in barbequing on the weekends and a mom who understood that teens should never be seen at the mall with their mothers. She couldn’t remember ever hearing a raised voice in the house, unless she counted the time Dad set the curtains on fire trying to make waffles. There was no bratty little brother, no bitchy older sister. There was no reason. Mary just left.
And now look at her. Look at her lying under the arm of this inhuman killer. Look at the jizz drying on her shirt and on her face. Look at the bruise on her arm where he injected her, not to mention the other bruises where he’d hit her. Things like this didn’t ‘just happen’. There had to be a reason. There had to be a point where it all went wrong. If she only knew what it was, maybe it would also show her the way out. So why, baby? Mary, why?
She’d said her name was Cindy when she first arrived in L.A. Back then, she really believed the cops gave a damn, and that she’d be arrested and sent home if they found her out. So she kept a low profile during school hours and ran around the city like a wild animal all night. She’d never been scared; the sirens, the smog, the noise, the occasional gunshots, the whackos and crazies, all of it was exhilarating. She fed on the excitement and confusion of it. She met everyone, tried everything.
Her heart was breaking. God, she could feel it breaking, all hot and cold and hurt as it pounded inside her. She wanted this to be a dream. She wanted to be back in L.A., stoned and drooling over the back of someone’s moldy old couch. She wouldn’t even mind if she woke up in the middle of her own gangbang, as long as she didn’t really have to be here.
Did she really think she’d known what a bad guy was? Her first week in L.A., she’d fallen in with a group of Goths and their middle-aged whacko leader. He told her he was a servant of Satan and gave her a mattress in his basement to sleep on. He introduced her to absinthe and bloodletting, told her that her true name was Isis, and informed her that the Devil wanted her to be the blood virgin during their rituals. Raven could even remember feeling a tremendous sense of pride and importance as she’d counted out drops of her blood into the black goblet they all drank from, all the while laughing at anyone who actually believed the Devil was real.
Well, here he was. The Devil’s breath was on her neck. The Devil’s arm was on her hip. The Devil’s spunk was in her mouth, and obviously, her virginity had never been high on his list of wants.
Being a fake vampire got boring after a while, and ‘Isis’ couldn’t help but notice that the little cult’s leader was finding more and more reasons to have her naked during Circle. She left during the middle of the day, while all of them were sleeping in their stupid fake coffins, leaving all of that witchy-crap and the name of Isis behind her. By the time sunset had rolled around, she was dropping Ex and Foxxy on the beach and dancing with glowsticks. At some point that night, she wandered over to where two ladies had started an impromptu school in the art of good head. Seemed like fun, and one thing led to another. So much for virginity.
Not that she ever regretted it. There were guys in this world who would give a girl a few bucks, a joint, or a cheeseburger just for a blowjob. Raven, and she was Raven by this time, never went hungry for long after that.
She told herself she wasn’t hooking unless she had a pimp. The next time she took stock of herself, she realized she’d somehow acquired an asshole who brought guys to her, took half her money, and slapped her around sometimes. So she told herself it still wasn’t hooking unless you were doing it for drugs. But fucking for drugs was easier and a hell of a lot faster than fucking for cash and then going out to buy drugs. Why not cut out the middleman, you know? In the end, she realized that anytime you weren’t fucking for fun, regardless of what you told yourself, honey, it was hooking.
So it was time to move on. Hop a bus, head cross-town, on to better things. She’d called her mom to ask for money, but all she got (apart from that awful, haunting question) was the offer of a bus ticket home.
Home? Fuck that noise, Raven was home! She went to San Francisco, falling easily into the post-modern happy-hippie feel of the place. She tried her hand at face-painting on Fisherman’s Wharf, sometimes bluffed her way through a Tarot card reading, and when money got tight, well, there was always someone with his dick out, and Raven knew what knees were for. In the meantime, there were parties every night, and weed and Ex were everywhere. She was having fun. She was in control. She was up for anything.








