***Nadia, Sadomasochist***

Nadia was drumming her heels against the bottom of her chair, idly trying to kick her own ass, seeing as nobody here was capable of, or interested in doing it.

Not to say she wasn’t paying attention; she was.

Duke Kinsey was sleeping with everyone, Annabelle Williams was frigid, Geoffery Entredes was taking bribes to allow people to undermine his fishing waters. The man was literally starving his people for a few shiny coins.

I mean, not that I care, it’s just bad form. Do your job correctly, please.

She was paying attention, but it only took a tiny fraction of her mind. The rest of it was devoted to daydreaming about Calvin.

I wonder what kind of tactic I should use to get him to destroy me…without destroying me.

Attacking him directly was right out, the contract wouldn’t allow her to do that. Besides, it wasn’t a sure thing that he’d give her what she wanted. He might just murder her, the possibility of which was exciting, but a bit…final.

You could ask him.

Nadia stiffened in her seat, her mind playing out the juicy scenario in real time, body warming with anticipation beneath her.

NO!

Asking to be utterly humiliated was the last straw. She liked hurting people just as much as she liked being hurt, and asking for it was anathema to that half of her. It crossed a line that needed to be there to keep her functioning and whole.

He does know what I like, though. So maybe…just maybe, I can arrange something he wants very, very much, and then refuse to give it to him.

That’s asking for it, but it’s not asking for it, if you get my drift. Nadia felt herself smiling as she pictured the complete loss of control…

“Nadia, what is your opinion on the matter?”

“Do you want my opinion, or do you want me to scurry off and ‘solve’ the matter?” Nadia asked, to buy time for her to review the last few minutes of conversation.

Her father had doled out the Abyssal steel to each of his major cities, and each one of them had reported a rise in efficiency, whether that be from unbreaking pickaxes and plows or mine cart rails that never needed to be replaced.

A solid four percent across the board and climbing, as people were beginning to find new ways to utilize the wonderful material.

I knew about it before it was cool.

Abyss, she’d been the one who’d dropped the damn thing everyone was slavering over.

Destroying a city had been fun, but it lacked the personal touch. Nadia much preferred earlier in the day, when she’d been tearing the clothes off of thousands of terrified men and women and ravishing them right then and there.

That had been significantly more fun.

Even watching Calvin eat a man’s fingers was more fun, because it was a hint as to the anger buried under the boy’s mask of civility. Sadistic creativity that could be directed at her.

Oh right, back on topic.

One of the cities that the steel had been sent to, Brennoth, had actually suffered a drop in output, and they were discussing the possible reasons.

“Yes, I would like to hear your opinion,” her father said, twirling his pen in the annoying habit he had, spattering tiny droplets of ink here and there.

“I supposed the most likely answer is that the baron stole it and lied about using it for the benefit of the people, arming his soldiers with it instead.”

Jonathan nodded.

“But, we can’t be sure until we send an investigator to verify this theory. There is a small possibility that Brennoth has simply taken a blow to its productivity from an unknown factor.”

Jonathan nodded, scanning the assembled nobility.

“My thoughts exactly. Which of my children would like to do this?”

All of Jonathan’s present progeny except for Nadia raised their hands.

I’ve got better things to do this evening than visit a mining town. Mining towns were stinky, filled with smoke and B.O.

By comparison, Juntai had the sweetest air, but the dumbest men.

“Nadia, you asked if I wanted you to solve the matter?” Jonathan asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “That constitutes an offer. And yes, I would like you to investigate the matter, and solve it…if that is within your ability.”

“I find the very concept of something outside my ability foreign,” Nadia said, her mind racing.

If he wants to send me specifically, he’s got to have something in mind. The question is, is he going to be working against me while I’m gone, or is there a trap in Bronnoth?

Why not both?

Come to think of it, if it were a simple matter of embezzlement, this would be an easy solve. With my authority, all I have to do is sniff out the abyssal steel, and the problem is over. My father would never lob me an easy solve. Not when he wants to get rid of me.

The possibility that the city has a trap is diminished. He saw what I did to the last ambush, and I doubt he wants to provoke me further in a direct conflict.

It seems more likely that the problem plaguing Brennoth is not a simple matter of embezzlement, and the shifty bastard already knows what the problem is, and expects I won’t be able to solve it.

That makes far more sense, and it would give him a way to damage my reputation.

“I will set out for Brennoth first thing in the morning,” Nadia said, committing herself to the course of action.

“The issue is as good as settled,” Jonathan said, twirling his damn pen again. Nobody could tell him not to do it, either, seeing as he was the king.

Nadia coasted through the rest of the meetings, filing away all the important information to review later. Once it was over, she rushed to her room, away from prying eyes.

She might have said she’d be leaving tomorrow, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be able to get to work now.

John Green, hmm?

The idea that she hadn’t gotten the name of the man who’d hired her assassins was utter drivel. Of course she’d pried a name out of them. In Iletha, names didn’t mean a whole lot, though.

Sadly the assassins were no longer around to give anyone else any secondhand details, but she’d gotten everything she’d needed to know from them.

A noble no longer in favor with her father had orchestrated the whole thing as a desperate attempt to get back into the man’s good graces? And he’d used his own name? Guar shit.

It’s just as likely the assassins themselves were fed misinformation. Assassins aren’t exactly indispensable. I’m halfway convinced they got dispensed.

Nadia took a shower, spanked her manservant for being too cute, then began changing into her casual attire.

This might be where I change shape and visit Green incognito, but I think we can do better than that.

Elliot had pushed for a shapeshifting feature, but Nadia had denied him. The ancient ghost was like Calvin in many ways, such as his poor understanding of personality and symbolism.

Shapeshifting implied that her body wasn’t perfect. She might be a demon, or the closest thing to it, but she was very proud of her form.

Nadia stuck out her cherry-red tongue in the mirror. It looked human at first, but it began to extend further and further down, at least a foot long. She began curling and uncurling it, splitting it in half and moving the two sides independently, twisting them around each other, coiling and uncoiling them.

Very proud.

If there was a moment she wasn’t enjoying being herself, what was the point? It wasn’t hard to walk around incognito, even with a form like hers. She just had to change her methods.

The muscle in her abdomen restricting the flow of Stalker juice relaxed, and it began flooding the fist-sized organ with warped energy.

Her red-cheeked manservant lost track of her, his gaze sliding past her naked body, frowning in confusion. The complacency aura took hold, and the man glanced down at the leather clothes he’d been holding for her. With a shrug, he dropped the clothes on the ground and ambled back to the bathroom, finding something to clean.

And there’s another spanking, Nadia thought, suppressing a grin as she picked up the clothes and sealed herself into them.

The uniform pressure from every direction was a familiar and comforting thing. It was a little bit odd fitting her wings through the holes in the back of her suit, but once she go the knack, it was easy enough. Like putting arms through sleeves.

Once she was done dressing, Nadia opened her door and leapt upward, crawling along the ceiling like a spider, her joints able to spin in inhuman directions.

She slipped out of her room, and her guard sent her a single disinterested look before glancing away. She crawled up to the ceiling of the hall, above the Veteran, before crawling down the wall behind him.

“I know you don’t care right now,” Nadia whispered into the man’s ear. “But my door’s always unlocked if you’d like me to eat you up.”

She grabbed his earlobe with her tongue and tugged on it playfully before crawling back up to the ceiling.

Once she was gone, the man’s entire body shuddered and swayed, leaning against the wall for support.

Nadia stuck to the ceiling on her way out of the palace, Only a handful of people saw her, and none of them cared in the moment to wonder where she might be going.

She accidentally terrified the same maid from last time by following above the busy woman who was taking the same path she was down the labyrinthine halls.

The maid knew she was there, she’d seen Nadia above her, she just wouldn’t care she’d been stalked down the halls until later.

She’ll be fine, Nadia thought. Probably.

Nadia slipped out of the palace and disappeared into the convoluted back alleys, losing anyone that might have been tracking her movements. It was largely habit, since nobody could muster the desire to track her movements, but better safe than sorry.

Once she was thoroughly lost, she climbed to the wall of a building and oriented herself, finding the Green manor near the edge of the city.

She followed a circuitous route to the manor, then slunk into the building as the light of the sun was dying. A shadow among shadows.

John Green was…unremarkable. The pot-bellied nobleman had receding hair and stick-thin arms and legs. The middle aged man clearly skipped leg day.

The only thing interesting about him was a look in his eyes. The look of an animal who would bite if provoked too far. It made her want to provoke him.

“My lady Ilestar,” He said, eyeing her.

Nadia felt the sensation of phantom hands pushing her back out the door, the rush of wind as a door slammed in her face. None of that actually happened, but that was exactly what the man wanted to do to her.

Her horns housed a lure’s lens, and the optic nerve connected to it. Not only could she feel what he wanted, when she concentrated, she could also see the ghostly image of the old man pushing her out the door.

“What can I do for you?” He asked, bowing.

“I was attacked a few days ago.”

“That’s terrible,” Green said, his voice monotone. “What does that have to do with your visit?”

“Well, in between calling for their gods and sinking into a drug-addled stupor, they mentioned your name.”

The man’s grey eyes widened.

“Now I don’t actually believe you were silly enough to try and have me killed to win his favor. You don’t actually want anything to do with my father, do you?”

“…” he looked her up and down, weighing his words. “Your father can suck my cock.”

“ooh, delicious, that touched a nerve.” Nadia said, smiling. “May I come in?”

“He wants you dead, does he?”

“He wants me disgraced and dead, I am a walking, talking reminder of his shame.” Nadia said with a smile. “Every success I have adds to it.”

Green smiled, standing away from the door.

“Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” Nadia said, rubbing her arms. “It was getting cold out there.”

“What business actually brought you here tonight?” Green asked.

“Do you know of Brennoth?”

“Of course. Mining city, like so many others in iletha. Large amount of slave labor. Small port. What of it?

“Something’s wrong with it, they’re sending me to fix it under false pretenses. I’m to be looking for embezzlement when I strongly suspect something else is at play.”

“And what do you need from me?” Green asked.

“My father intends for me to fail. He will be humiliated if I come out of this scenario a hero.”

“And you want my help, is that it?”

“I’m not above cheating. If you could directly play a hand in boosting the city’s economy, it would give me time to –“

Green held up a thin hand. “I can’t help you there. I haven’t got the money, and even if I did, a move like that could easily be traced back to me. I may hate your father and wish all manner of ill upon him, but I’ll not put myself at undue risk for it.”

Nadia figured as much, but it was basic negotiating to ask for the moon first, since it made all other requests appear smaller by comparison.

And sometimes you got the moon.

“Do you have anything else that might aid? Information about Brennoth? Personnel? Favors?”

Green rubbed his chin for a moment. “The latter two, I have, young lady. I know a Legend who is quite a good investigator. He owes me a favor. If the favor from him became a favor from you, I would gladly ask him to lend his manpower to your mission.

“I’m always looking for ways to get my hands on more man-power,” Nadia said, frowning contemplatively. It wasn’t a bad deal. One favor would beget another, deepening his dependence on her. She needed people on her side, and when you have no allies, you must make some.

She had wanted an instant win condition in this little political game she was playing with her father, but if she couldn’t have that, a handicap was always welcome.

“I’ll agree to your terms whole-heartedly if I could ask for one more thing,” Nadia said.

“Oh?”

“Keep your ear to the ground here and warn me if there’s some kind of plot against me while I’m gone. I think this is a reasonable condition. After all, your favor will become worthless if I’m dead or disenfranchised.”

Green pursed his lips and leaned back in his elegantly carved chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

“Very well, I agree. Now leave me to contact my friend. Theodore will meet you in Brennoth.”

Nadia nodded silently before sneaking out of his home, exiting the manor on the sheltered side, two stories up. In a matter of seconds, she became one with the shadows surrounding the mansion.

I wonder if he’s gay, Nadia thought to herself as she left. The entire time she’d sat in front of him, he’d not had a single stray thought about what he would like to do to her. That either implied extreme mental discipline, or a simple lack of interest.

Nadia was willing to bet the latter, given the man’s poor state and the dust that was building in the cracks of his home.