Alpha's Druid Teaser

“Oh, fuck yes,” guard number one moaned, clinging to Rho’s hair as he pistoned into her mouth. “I don’t care if you’re a bandit. This cunt is amazing,” guard number two grunted his agreement. Concentrating, Rho maintained pace; upstroke, down, up, down, up. “Ding, ding, ding-dong.” As the clocktower chimed, she pulled her lips off guard number one. “Time’s up, boys.” Letting her glimmering illusion flicker and fade, Rho dropped the tiny purple seed she’d had hidden in her palm. Dig deep and sleep them. With a burst of her silvery power, the burrowing seed bloomed into a beautiful, wide-mouthed purple tulip emitting the sweetest scent of honey and happiness. “Illusion down. Sleep Trap successful. Nighty night, you filthy swine,” Rho muttered to herself in her native tongue. As rare and archaic as her first language was, she felt certain no one who might overhear her would have a clue what she said. The guards crumpled with flaccid cocks. Where’s a bucket of water when you need to douse a stench? Rho gargled with her strongest swill, leaving the hollowed-out butternut squash “pussy” as a memento for guard number two to enjoy. “I have got to work out how to fake a blowjob. So disgusting.” The crisp early morning air helped clear the stench from her nose as she jogged to the rendezvous point. “How many did you suck this time?” came a gruff hiss from the shadows of the guard tower. An orc, massive as could be, stepped out of the battered door and dropped an unconscious guard at Rho’s feet. Rho scoffed, “Just the one pig. The other enjoyed butternut pussy. We good, Durg?” Durgash Orc Fist, was the closest thing to a father-figure Rho had. The mercenary had taken her in when her mother died, kept her safe, taught her the trade, and gave her connections to the murky underbelly. But the old fool had gotten himself hurt on their previous job, and he was starting to flag. Rho knew the old bastard would refuse to retire as long as she rode along with him, so when this job came along, she declared it would be their last together. Sharing a look, one of pride and sadness both, Rho knew she would miss him and their partner, Scamp. Durg shook himself to refocus. “We’re good. The target should be coming right about—” he trailed off as the terrified shuffle of soft-slippered feet on cobble drew their gaze. Durg slipped back into the shadows while Rho flashed her sexiest smile. The “merchant” appeared a moment later, startling at Rho’s presence. A glance down her body made him forget his purpose. He quickly went from terrified target to preening peacock with his chest thrust out as he strutted toward her. “Why, hello there, beautiful,” he squeaked, unable to fully compose his voice. Gods, are all males this pathetic? “Hi,” she purred, sauntering closer. The vampire’s hungry eyes flared red in the darkness, but Rho pretended not to notice. Two more steps, and he would be in her grasp. She had ways of ensnaring him, but in such a public space, she wouldn’t risk being seen. Before she could close the distance, his nostrils flared in anticipation, exposing the unmistakable scent of orc. Her prey’s demeanor snapped from lover to fighter in a flash. A burst of vamp speed let him parry Durg’s swing, shoving the orc into Rho before sprinting down the alley to her left. Thankfully, he was too young to maintain that speed, or they would have lost their quarry. “Dammit all.” Rho shoved Durg off as she gave chase. The fucker was fast for a soft-soled vampire. According to the ticket, he was a new blood, but he wasn’t adapting well, taking down a local herd of cattle in his thirst. Naturally, that wasn’t acceptable to the rancher, so Durg's team was hired to take him down, one way or another. Rho spotted the raven with slightly too-long feathers before it plummeted to the ground as an androgenous humanoid beside her. I’ve worked with you for twelve years and I still have no idea what you are. Changeling? Shapeshifter? Mimic? No clue. “I’m fine, Scamp. Did you succeed?” Scamp nodded, pointing to the small trail of black blood Rho hadn’t noticed. “Good work. Circle back to Durg and secure our exit.” Scamp gave a curt nod and disappeared behind her. Her friend shifted to a plow horse and sprinted up the cobblestone path toward Durg. Rho stumbled to a halt at a fork in the road. Dammit. I don’t have time for this. Reluctantly, she closed her eyes and took in the scents around her as she searched for her quarry. Her nose told her up. “Looking for me?” Her mark leapt from the rooftop with a theatrical flourish of his rapier. “A vampire with a cloak and a rapier? Seriously?” Rho quipped in the common tongue. “Would it kill you to be a little more original?” Swinging his rapier in flashy, pointless gestures, the vampire slowly circled her. They were isolated enough in the back alleys, so Rho lazily lifted her palm, which glowed with the tiny silver flowers magically tattooed just below the surface of her skin. One necessary hand gesture later, she thought, “Stretch and stake his heart.” The nearby yew tree surged as its roots plunged out of the ground and into the vampire’s heart, killing him instantly. Return and flourish. Durg and Scamp arrived with her horse as the tree returned to normal. Moving with silent efficiency, Rho plucked the vampire’s fangs as proof of death. Next, they doused his body with both consecrated water and burning oil, and torched the remains before the guards noticed a thing. Rho left a water sprite to guard the fire, just in case the flames got out of hand. She might be a ruthless mercenary, but she would always be a druid first and forever. “Damn unnatural,” Durg grumbled. Rho chuckled at his age-old protest. “Druids are the pinnacle of nature. It’s literally our thing.” “Nothing natural about spiking a man to death with a tree root.” Durg had never approved of her druidic ways, but he didn’t get in her way either. “Just remember—” he began, but Rho cut him off. “I know. I know. Keep it secret. No one needs to know.” The ride to the edge of town where the disgruntled rancher waited with their bounty was a short one. They divvied up while the portly rancher scuttled into the dawn. “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?” Durg asked with genuine fatherly concern. Scamp gave Rho a tight hug and bestowed its silent farewell before becoming a massive plow horse Durg would ride to retirement. Scamp’s mane was stringy instead of flowy. It always struggled with hair since it’s natural androgynous and all-too globular form had no hair. Still, Scamp was a loyal companion and always would be. Rho ignored Durg’s question. She snatched the saddlebags off Durg’s shoulder and slung them over Scamp’s rump. Without a saddle, Durg’s ass would be the only thing securing them in place, but neither of her partners seemed to care. Former partners, now. Shit. This is goodbye. I hate goodbyes. “Take care of him, Scamp. Orc Fist tries to hide that limp, but I know he’s done. Take him home to his mate.” Durg frowned at Rho. “You could come with me,” he said. “An orc farming village is no place for me. Besides, your ale is terrible.” “Daughter or no, those are fighting words.” His voice was gruff and dark, but his eyes shimmered with the tears he would never shed. Rho laughed at his threat, swiping at her own tear-filled eye. “I’m going to miss you, Durg. You too, Scamp.” Not one for goodbyes, she knew she’d likely never see them again, so she hugged Durg and Scamp fondly before stepping into her saddle. “See you in the next life,” Rho said, trotting her mare away before she lost the nerve.