The Strigoi Chronicles Box Set by Nya

Author:Nya
Language: eng
Format: mobi

Chapter Four

“You aren’t ready.”

“I am.” Surly morphed to petulant and I was back to being the six year old demanding the glass instead of the sippy cup.

Jeffy was right, of course he was. As in Dreu the wannabe was nowhere near ready. And not even OD’ing on steroids had done much more than land me in Pop’s version of anger management classes, and no… it had definitely not been a bundle of laughs.

But try as I would, there was no getting past my longing for a spin in the arena of manhood. Those intersecting circles of diamond brilliance had surpassed my quest for flexibility and an unholy fascination with the act of auto-fellatio, landing me squarely in light-lust-land.

“Do you know how many warriors have merited a match in the jugé par décès?”

My Sir Snit growled, “I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.” He didn’t.

Jef pointed to my pimply-faced opponent and said, “Again.”

The Kinkster had been replaced with a smallish demon, probably a pubescent teen version of the angry young man. S/he had actually gotten on her knees, promising to suck Jef’s phallus into kingdom come if only he would relieve her of the boredom of bludgeoning me into road kill day after day after day.

Jef’s fair complexion had morphed to an unhealthy shade of oh hell no and he’d been quick to find a substitute. Considering what the beeyotch had done for me, that was an offer I’d at least have considered; but then again, no one had ever gotten around to explaining who the s/he’s were.

Or what.

“Does that,” pointing to the gangly youth slouching in a corner, “have a name?”

My sensei said, “Call him Petr,” and sighed with frustration. Clearly my delaying tactics were not a well-kept secret. I had no idea what young master Petr could do in the rain destruction on Dreu version of Demon Survivor.

As it was, I’d been thrown off the island so often, I should have been accorded hazard pay. I watched a lot of satellite TV while ensconced in a hospital bed. Traction was a hoot.

Today’s audience consisted of a half dozen of Petr’s cohorts, all similarly attired in slouchy pants hanging off narrow hips and tee-shirts with sayings; the least offensive was ‘Suck This’ with a downward pointing arrow to a permanent erection.

Cute didn’t touch it.

Of course, we who grew up in cloisters with pedophiles should know better than to cast stones.

Jef was correct, I was delaying. The last thing I needed was to be humiliated by a kid looking to earn his merit badge in Easy Pickings.

I said a quick Hail Mary, bowed and assumed the juchoom sohgi stance which earned me a snort of approval from Jef. Young Petr did not get the in-joke so I wriggled out of the horseback riding position into gyuttari sohgi and awaited my fate.

It wasn’t long in coming.

The kid was fast, no surprise there, but he had yet to grow into his imposing size, a skeletal six-two and change, so he came at me like a bag of loose, uncoordinated bones.

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