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Felix followed the scent down the hallways, the brimstone clinging to every olfactory nerve he had. It was impossible to miss, acting as a natural beacon to most demons. This was to draw demons in hopes of connecting a familiar pair. Once a hellbeast had been claimed as a familiar, the brimstone in their scent would naturally deplete. This meant this hellcat was potentially available for a familiar bond, and as such needed to be protected at all costs. Lucifer himself had forced oaths to those effects from each of the earthbound emissaries on the only occasion he had been willing to meet them.
The scent continued to travel the halls, and down through the small brown doorway marked with only a simple sword and shield. The scent became heavier in the curved stairwell that led to the subterranean amphitheater. They had had additional support trials there after the healers, focusing on augmentation and soothsaying, but from Drew’s reporting none had used any beasts - let alone a hellcat.
The scent led down into the amphitheater itself, and through the grates at the end where the naga had entered. A series of prison cells lined the hallway wall, but none contained any trace of the hellcat. The scent continued until Felix reached a single metal door at the end of, fastened with a large ring handle and a massive latch style lock.
Felix jiggled the latch, unable to move it. Summoning the strength of greed from his reservoirs, he pressed his hand against the lock. His mind conjured the lock’s pins, and he gently coaxed his greed into the mechanism, pressing on just the right points for a loud snick to be heard as the lock disengaged.
Unsure of what he would find on the other side of the door, Felix pried it open slowly. An angry hellcat was not exactly something anyone really wanted to mess with. And if the beast had been imprisoned here, it certainly wouldn’t be happy. Hellbeasts, like their demonic kin, detested any sort of confinement.
But as Felix opened the door he found only a simple stone chamber - no scent of hellbeast within. A small pile of straw lay neatly in the corner, but there was no scent of a beast anywhere.
Felix backtracked, trying to follow the scent again, but it was quickly fading. It didn’t make sense - the scent had built up to that room. Where by Vitus’ balls had it gone?
???
Marik
“Next up, number sixty-five. Number sixty-five is a compliant red-haired female with class four turquoise eyes. Primary talents are a class four affinity for sloth, with abilities in healing and telekinesis and no other minor affinities. She competed in the healing trials, placing third overall, completing her task in six minutes and seventeen seconds. Bidding begins at forty-five thousand American dollars. Do I hear forty-five?”
Lewd remarks and bids flew from the disorganized crowd that swarmed the dais as the girl with dark skin and even dark red hair stood defiantly before the crowd. Her chin lifted as she watched with detachment as her future was decided before her.
I stalked back and forth at my place near the wall, my footsteps heavy against the marble tiles of the great hall. Despite the dampening from the essence-laden smoke that surrounded the room, I could hear the snap my oxfords made. I had no desire to quell my prowl amongst the booze ladened drunkards that surrounded me, bidding more with their cocks than what their wallets truly could afford.
The bidding for the female on the stage ended, and a small slip of yellow paper containing the winning Martier bid floated through the air, landing in the cauldron that had been setup at the edge of the dais as it had that first night. The cauldron turned a sickly shade of mustard yellow - Martier’s primary color, as the long white gown the girl wore also turned yellow.
Her fate had been sealed. Martier had bought her contract from the Red Pines Academy for ninety-two thousand American dollars, none of which she would see. While sure Martier would pay her some kind of salary to sustain herself outside of the basics they provided her, she would have no ability to negotiate or in any way decide where she would go from here. No - now she had to report to wherever they ordered her to go, to live out her existence in whatever way they deemed fit.
And from the fact that she hadn’t even brought in a full six figure sum, it was highly likely that despite her exemplary performance in the trials, she would be reporting to a breeding camp before long.
Disgusting.
The girl stood still momentarily, glaring down at the Martier scout who had essentially bought her. Defiance coated every inch of her as she squeezed her hands into fists. She seemed ready to commit murder - especially as words flew across the crowd about how much fun it would be to break that one.
But before she could do anything foolhardy like attempt to pummel the living daylights out of someone, she spun on her heal, leaving the dais as quickly as she had entered. That woman would not slip easily into her fate. She would fight with every breath in her.
But they would break her. They always broke them.
The cauldron on the dais shifted from yellow back to black as it awaited the next candidate. I moved forward as Drew did, my shoes sticking as they caught on to some dried liquor that had sloshed from someone’s cup. I couldn’t wait for this to be over, the vial putrid scents of induced arousal and brown alcohols flooding my nostrils in an extremely unpleasant mix.
But my Thief was up next. And I had to have her.
My Thief walked up onto the dais, her dipping white dress hugging her curves and rounded ass as she moved. Those curves…by the Gods, those curves had been everything. Even in her mind, her body had responded so perfectly, her need matching mine in a dizzying spiral of sensations.
I couldn’t help but reach out for her, running a psychic finger up the gorgeous lines of her spine. Her steps stuttered, and she stumbled before righting herself as she reached the center of the stage.
You realize I’m naked under this, right? Her mental projection came through, a challenge in her growing mental voice.
I’m not seeing an issue here; I wouldn’t mind a peak.I grinned at her as she found me in the crowd, trying to hold back the glower that threatened to rise in her face. But she kept herself as poised as possible.
I ran a psychic finger down the column of her throat and down to her sides, ending just above the curve of her hip. She gave a nearly imperceptible shudder as warmth bloomed in her cheeks.
Oh yeah? What about everyone else here getting a peak as well? Mind that?
I growled low in my chest, and the corners of her lips tipped up.
That pussy is mine, remember?
I remember saying you could only borrow it.
