In Search of a Goddess 05: Kolya by Seldom Happy birthday! ***** AUTHOR'S NOTE ***** This one's dedicated to a very special woman (you know who you are), happy birthday babe! I love hearing from you. I really do. Please e-mail me if you like this story, and even if you don't, tell me what you didn't like. One warning, this story is quite violent, but no more so than your average fantasy novel. One more note. The world depicted here is dark and unfriendly. Your own world may not be. Just try to remember that there are others who inhabit this planet, and many on this Earth are not as fortunate as you and me. * * * * * George Robertson hurried back from his lunch break. He adjusted his tie and put his wedding ring back on. He took a few deep breaths and stepped out of the elevator. There was Jessica, his secretary. God, she had great tits! Everytime he saw her he had trouble paying attention, just thinking about how someday he would squeeze those huge fleshy tits, suck on her thick hard nipples. She smiled at him and leaned forward, showing him a little more of her deep jiggling cleavage. Oh yes, it would be someday soon! "There's a woman here to see you, said her name is Helen. She didn't give a last name. She said you would want to talk to her." Oh God, not Helen, not today! That sick bitch scared the fuck out of him. He sighed. "Send her in." Jessica looked nervous. "I tried to tell her to wait out here, but she insisted on going in. I tried to stop her, but, well, she's a rather large woman Mr. Robertson." "Christ, don't I know it," he muttered under his breath. Then he adopted his best professional smile and walked into his office. "Helen, such a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the..." he faltered, looking around. The door closed behind him and he jumped, startled. "Oh, hello Helen, didn't see you there," he said. She was dressed in a tight tank top that barely covered her chest. Her huge biceps flexed and expanded as she stalked closer. George took a step back. "Hello, George," she said huskily. Her big nipples were erect, threatening to poke through her shirt. Oh please god no, he pleaded, the last time she had broken two of his ribs. "Don't worry, I'm not here to rape you. I've just been going over my accounts, you know, double-checking on you guys." The color instantly drained from his face. He hid her sizable fortune quite well, making a decent commission. He didn't take TOO much off the top, either, and he hid that quite well, too. She couldn't possibly know! But why else would she be here? He brazened it out. "Well, ah, Helen, I hope you found everything in order." She stepped closer. He tried to step back but bumped into his desk. Her hot breath washed over his neck as she leaned into him. Her hard nipples poked into his chest. Her hand rubbed lightly over his crotch. In spite of his fear he got a boner. She smiled. "Actually," she breathed into his ear, "I've found a few discrepancies that I wanted to go over with you." "Discrepancies?" he squeaked. Her hand closed around his privates and tightened. "Discrepancies," she whispered. "Now how did those happen? Your firm has a reputation for trustworthiness and discretion, which is why I chose you. You also have a reputation for meticulousness. So I asked myself, are they mistakes, these discrepancies? And do you know what I decided?" Her hand squeezed tighter, just on the verge of painful. "What?" he whispered. "I decided no, they are not mistakes, Mr. Robertson." She let go of his privates and with one hand on his shoulder shoved him violently to his knees. "Which means you've been fucking me, Mr. Robertson," she said calmly. "I fuck men, they don't fuck me. And men I fuck always..." She put her hands on either side of his skull. "Die!" Before he could scream she pushed her hands together, laughing... * * * * * Father Mallory stood over the girl's body. Hannah, her name was Hannah, he told himself. She had been a sixteen year old gymnast. Blood and bits of skull and brain still pumped out of the hole in her head, draining into the street. He took a few shaky steps away, then collapsed against the brick wall. He was losing his stomach for this job, and, little by little, his faith was leaving, too. He watched the blood flow stop. He wanted to turn away, to leave, but somehow he couldn't. She was so young, and so pretty. She had been so happy, too, until she killed her English teacher, the man who tried to rape her after school. Mallory crossed her, going over the commitment ritual mechanically and without thought. Sending her soul to heaven, he thought hollowly. It had better be one fuck of a lot better than Earth. He let his hand drop to her still chest, slowly stroking the swell of her breasts. "Were you a virgin, Hannah?" he asked in an awed whisper. "Were you a nice girl or a bad girl?" His fingers trailed over her well-muscled abdomen. "What kind of life did you lead before your nightmare started?" He leaned over and brushed his lips over hers; oh God they were still warm! He stroked her hair, his fingers coming away sticky with blood. He looked up at the sky. The pain in his eyes was deep and terrible. He was filled with helpless rage and doubt. "Why God? Why me?" His fingers clenched, bruising Hannah's pale soft skin. "When does my nightmare end?" he demanded of the dark night sky. He waited, but there was no answer. * * * * * Lauren couldn't hold it in any longer. "So, sport, why're we driving? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a cool car and all. But wouldn't it be faster just to fly?" Alyssa waited for Ryan to respond. When he didn't, she looked at him. He was staring straight ahead, concentrating intently on the road. Just when she though he wasn't going to answer, he spoke, his voice tight. "Alyssa's wanted for murder, and you need ID to get on a plane." Alyssa watched the speedometer creep up to eighty-five. "Don't you think you should slow down?" she said. He instantly took his foot off the accelerator and slowed to sixty-five. They drove in silence for a while. They lunched at a rest stop; Lauren found it highly amusing that Ryan, with all his money, ate cheeseburgers just like anybody else. Ryan smiled at that. Lauren asked him how much he had. He shrugged. "Enough." He wouldn't say any more. "I have to piss," Lauren said. Alyssa giggled. Ryan grinned and pulled into another rest stop. Lauren got out to go to the bathroom. Ryan and Alyssa stood and stretched. Ryan looked up and found himself staring at Alyssa's chest. He craned his neck. Alyssa was looking down at him, her eyes troubled. Ryan tried to back up, but he was already up against the car. "What's wrong?" Alyssa asked. "You've been so weird today. What's the matter?" "Nothing's wrong," Ryan mumbled. She reached out to hold his cheek but he flinched. She drew her hand back. "Please tell me, Ryan," she said. "It's nothing, okay?" he said, and dodged around her. She watched him flee to the bathroom. When they were on the road again, she tried putting her hand on his thigh. He tensed up but otherwise didn't respond. After a while she withdrew it again. * * * * * It had slept for fifteen hundred years. Over a millenia of timeless, dreamless non- existence. It awoke, stretching massive muscles sore from disuse. It shook its great hairy head and blinked baleful yellow eyes. A voice spoke inside its head. "As you wish," the creature grumbled. It slowly changed shape, becoming smaller, losing its fur. The forces of destiny molded it into an unfamiliar shape: tall, human, female, with long red hair and green eyes... "I will protect it," the figure said in a deep, husky feminine voice. Now where the hell was this Los Angeles? * * * * * Lauren suddenly sat up, fully alert. "Stop here," she commanded. Ryan pulled over. "Come on," Lauren said to Alyssa, jumping out of the car. It was eleven o'clock and Ryan was exhausted. He had pulled in at a motel on the side of the road, but Lauren chided him. So they were headed into downtown Columbus looking for a "nice" place to stay. Ryan got out and followed Lauren and Alyssa. Then he heard where they were going. The voices of two men drifted out of a nearby alley. "No, wait Alyssa, stop," he whispered. He tried to snatch the back of her shirt. She turned and put a finger over her lips. She gently pushed him against the wall. "Stay here and be quiet," she whispered. She hurried to catch up with Lauren. After a moment Ryan followed. Two men had a fairly tall man against the wall in the dark alley. One of them held a switchblade. The victim looked from one to the other, sizing his attackers up. The one with the knife made small jabbing motions to accompany his statements. "We make it look like an accident, right Kolya? Isn't that what they teach you?" he said. "Eh, comrade," he laughed. The man, Kolya, rocked from foot to foot. "I told you, I quit. I won't tell the feds nothing about Petre, I just want out." The two men laughed. The one with the knife said, "This is how you quit, comrade. My blade is your out." "It doesn't have to be like this. I give you my word like I gave it to Petre." The attacker without the knife spoke. His voice was deep, menacing, and more intelligent than that of the other one. "Your word ain't good enough for Petre, I guess. Nothing personal. He just doesn't like his prize assassin mysteriously quitting on him. Now it's time to die." The knife came closer. Kolya was no fool, he knew that though the knifer didn't look that bright, he was probably one of the best. And the intelligent one had a piece somewhere as well. His eyes suddenly flicked behind them. The unarmed hitman paused, wondering if it was a trick. But why... Suddenly he was flung into the brick wall. His partner screamed in pain as something broke his forearm. He spun around to face his attacker. A woman! She was tall, much taller than him. "Alright, bitch," he snarled. Her fist connected with his jaw and his head slammed back into the wall. He slumped to the ground, dazed. Lauren yanked her victim's skull into her thighs. He still clutched his broken arm. He looked up into her face, terrified at the hatred and fury he saw there. Then pain became his only focus as her impossibly strong legs closed into his head, crushing his jaw. He tried to plead but couldn't breathe. It would not have done him any good. Lauren's pretty face had changed from anger to pleasure, enjoying the feel of his skull crumbling in her powerful legs. As the last coherent thoughts left his brain and he died, the rush hit her. She screamed in orgasm as her thighs closed together, completely obliterating his head. The other one watched his partner die in the psycho-bitch's legs. He got up, intending to get the hell outta Dodge, but a powerful foot slammed him back into the ground. Alyssa knelt down and he felt the tips of her breasts brush against his back. Lauren was looking at Alyssa now, still wiping bits of gore off her legs. Alyssa was looking down at her victim, not sure what to do next. "Kill him," Lauren said gently. Alyssa shook her head. "You have to kill him!" Lauren said. "You want to die for this fuck? This might be your only chance. Now break his fucking neck already." She was still flushed from her kill. Alyssa placed her hands on his head, right hand on his jaw, left on the back of his skull. He looked up at her, frightened, his eyes pleading. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and snapped his neck. The power filled her again, and she forgot she didn't want to kill him. She lost voluntary control over her body, every muscle straining, orgasm consuming every part of her. His skull cracked in her powerful grip. The rush ended and she slumped to the ground, crying. Ryan stood in shock at the entrance to the alley, having just witnessed his companions gruesomely slaughter the would-be attackers. Lauren looked at Kolya. Alyssa stared at the ground. And Kolya watched all three of them very carefully. He was the first to break the silence. "Thanks for taking care of them. I'm Kolya Petrovich," he offered his hand to Lauren. She smiled at him and licked her lips. "I'm Lauren," she said huskily and pressed her body against his. Her big soft breasts squashed into his chest. He was tall, nearly as tall as Alyssa, and handsome in a dark Slavic way. He looked embarrassed at her forwardness. Alyssa said nothing, but she did look up at him. She looked like hell and felt worse. Ryan was the next to speak. "Let's go. We don't want to be here to explain why the two of you crushed these guys to death." Kolya looked at Ryan and smiled. "You are right, my friend. And you are?" "Ryan," he said shortly. He knelt beside Alyssa and gently helped her to her feet, then walked them out of the alley. "You too, handsome," Lauren breathed at Kolya, then took his hand and led them back to the Jag. They ended up at the Hyatt Regency, the only hotel up to Lauren's standards. The two women had cleaned up the gore, but they had been trapped in a small car all day and were very tired. Lauren's strong arm was wrapped tightly around Kolya, and he made no effort to remove it. "Three rooms," Ryan told the clerk. Alyssa looked at him sadly but made no objection. On the way up Kolya asked what was going on. Alyssa didn't say anything and Ryan was in his own miserable world. "I'll explain everything," Lauren told him. Lauren and Kolya took one room. Alyssa tried to catch Ryan's arm but he dodged and slipped into his room. "I don't want to be alone," she whispered to the empty hall. She went into her own room and collapsed, sobbing until sleep overtook her. * * * * * Father Cohen watched Patrick Mallory across the desk. He could see the hunter's anguish, the doubts and fears plain on his face. Mallory refused to talk about it. "So you won't help me," Mallory said tightly. Cohen shook his head. "No, I will not help you track them down and kill them. They put their trust in me and I cannot betray that. If you want to hunt Daughters in Washington, you will have to track them down on your own." Mallory sat back and sighed. "Fair enough. I don't want Washington, anyway. I'm sure there are already hunters here." Cohen nodded. "I just want one woman." "I know," Cohen said. He too could not help hating Helen, and he prayed every night for the black mark on his soul to be lifted. "But I can't help you with her, either." "And the new one? Alyssa Connor?" "I met her, a delightful young woman. So troubled, and with such a terrible past...She is on a quest for the Amulet. We should wish her well." Mallory laughed, a harsh, bitter laugh. "Nobody can have the Amulet, you know that. Even if she is the wonderful woman you think she is, its power would corrupt her. You know what happened the last time a Daughter touched the Amulet." They both shuddered. The destruction and horror before she was finally killed... "That was eight hundred years ago," Cohen said. "I believe if anyone can handle its power without corruption, it is Alyssa." Mallory looked at Cohen sharply. "That's a lot of trust to place in a woman you've only met for one evening. It's not relevant anyway, she won't find it." "I'm not so certain," Cohen mused. "I am." Mallory got up to leave. "I am here if you need to talk," Cohen said. Mallory didn't turn around. "I know," he said, and left. * * * * * They gathered in Ryan's room the next morning. Kolya looked happy but worn. He cradled his ribs. Lauren beamed. Alyssa and Ryan both looked like they hadn't slept. Kolya began his story. "My parents immigrated from the Soviet Union when I was four years old. Growing up as a Russian during the cold war was not fun, but at least it was not the fifties. My parents were not imprisoned. But we were looked down upon, as we had little money. My father tried hard to support us, and he did a good job. He did not know about my connections with organized crime, running drugs and beating people up for my own income. He found out, I do not know how, and I have not spoken to him since. "In my mid-twenties, I had graduated to the level of hitman. I was very good at it. Then several years ago a man, Petre, recruited me as his 'problem solver', as he put it. Basically his own private assassin. He wanted me to do increasingly brutal and twisted things to my victims, to make a statement he said. Then he wanted me to kill his wife, whom he suspected of cheating on her, in a particularly disgusting fashion. "She had been cheating on him; I knew this for a long time. I did not blame her. Petre was a hard man, a sadist, and she was too weak for him. So she looked for a kinder, gentler man, one who would make her feel like the woman she wanted to be. He was a good man, too. It is lucky for him Petre never found out who he is. "I did not accept this job. So I quit. No doubt she is dead now anyway; there are many men who will kill for Petre without question. Men such as the two you killed last night. Don't feel bad for them. "Lauren told me of your own situation last night. I must say I find it quite incredible. We are all killers here, with the exception of Ryan." Silence followed Kolya's story. "You're pretty smart for a hitman," Ryan finally said. Kolya grinned at Ryan. "Education was very important to my parents. Lauren said that we are all in your debt. Thank you for putting us up in such accomodations, and thank you for taking care of Lauren. She is quite a woman for her eighteen years." Ryan and Alyssa, startled, looked at Lauren. She shot them a shut-up glance, then kissed Kolya. Ryan stood up, ready to leave. "We don't have to leave quite so soon, do we Ryan?" Lauren asked. "I mean, it's so nice here, and we have plenty of time to get to California," she implored. Ryan looked at Alyssa. She shrugged. "Alright," he said. End of ISOG 05: Kolya