Сюзанна Бэк - Desert Storm

Special note: Because of this, Gabrielle does not appear, except in offhand mention, in a great deal of the first half of this story. Do not look for her, because you won’t find her. After all, she was not a part of ‘evil Xena’s’ life. If she were, things might have turned out differently, but because this is based on the premise of “Lost Soul Walking” it cannot happen differently. Gabrielle will, however, make her presence known, and that quite strongly, in the second half of the story. If you can hang on till then, I believe that you will not be disappointed.

Sexuality and Violence Disclaimers: We’re dealing with an updated dark Xena through much of the first half, and an updated redeemed Xena through the second. There’s gonna be violence. There are gonna be naughty words. There are also descriptions of sexual activity in this work. There are allusions to heterosexual sex, but nothing graphic. There are some graphic (though I hope tasteful) scenes of sexual expression between women as well. That is how I see the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, and that is how I will continue to write it.

And, finally, thanks: To, as always, the incomparable Mike. A better beta and a better friend one could never hope for. Thank you also, as always, to Mary D, who rescued this story from the refuse heap and begged me to keep going on it. If you hate it, blame her. Grateful and heartfelt appreciation goes out to DJWP, for continuing to write stories that grab me somewhere above the liver and giving her kind permission to mention her story in these disclaimers. If you haven’t read her stories, please, do yourself a favor and do so. Finally, this story is dedicated to a group of people without whom I would most probably be living on the streets. Elizabeth, Rachel, Sulli, and the rest of the “Get Sue to Atlanta” crew, this one’s for you!

Last disclaimer: Hi all! Well, after a year or so, I’m baaaaack. I can’t promise any swift or timely updates on this piece because it’s still the bitch of a lifetime to write, but I am dedicated to getting it done, so just hang in there with me, ok? To all of you who have written asking when it would be continued, thank you, and here’s your answer!

Feedback: As always is gratefully appreciated. Swordnquil@aol.com

DESERT STORM

by: Sword’n’Quill (Susanne Beck)

A half hour later, Kael was stepping out of the shower and feeling, physically at least, totally clean for the first time in what seemed to be months. Her long, lean body dripping, she reached out for a towel, only to open her eyes to find it dangling from one of Ianna’s fingers, a devious, totally wanton smile playing on the other woman’s full lips. “Looking for something?” she purred.

Shooting Ianna a withering glance, Kael snatched the towel and began drying herself off, putting a subtle play of eroticism in the act just for fun. As she put one leg up on the commode to begin drying the long, tanned expanse of skin, she saw the other woman, eyes glued to the sight, unconsciously lick her lips. Kael smirked and took her time, giving her audience a view she wouldn’t soon forget.

“If I ever had an ounce of doubt in my mind as to why that little bastard who calls himself a drug lord rolls belly up for you like a horse-whipped puppy, you’ve erased it quite nicely,” Ianna said, her normally husky voice even more burred as she struggled against the urges Kael engendered in her body.

After having dried off every square centimeter of flesh on her body, Kael straightened to her full height and simply stared at Ianna, a half grin teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Are you just gonna stand there staring at me all day, or are clothes an option?”

“Decisions, decisions,” Ianna returned, grinning wickedly. “Though I suppose clothing would make our little chat a bit less …distracting.”

“Then just give me the damn things and let’s get on with this already.”

Ianna laughed, but handed over the clothing and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Ten minutes later, as Kael walked into the living area clad in Ianna’s tight maroon tanktop—sans bra—and faded denim jeans, Ianna realized she was wrong.

Clothed or not, the woman was distracting as hell. “Very nice.”

Kael threw a smirk Ianna’s way as she ran a hand through her still-wet hair, then lowered her rangy frame onto one of the couches, crossing one long leg beneath her, her arms thrown casually over the seat’s plush back. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

“Straight and to the point. I like that.” Ianna smiled. “Have you ever been to an American movie studio lot?”

Unsure where the conversation was leading, Kael kept her response to a brief nod.

“Good. Then you’ll understand me when I say that I think of all of this,” she gestured around the garishly decorated room, “as false front.”

“With you in the lead role.”

Ianna smirked. “Perhaps. But I play my part very well. My mother was a Santeria priestess, as was hers before her.”

“Insanity runs in the family, does it?” Kael replied, returning the smirk measure for measure.

“Touché. Priests, whores, witches and actors, all thought insane at some point or other in history. I’m in good company, wouldn’t you agree?”

“If that’s what you like to call it … .”

Throwing her head back against the couch, Ianna laughed, her voice low and liquid, a single malt scotch that smoothed and burned as it went down. “I do so enjoy you, Kael.” Righting her head, she gazed at the American with frank appraisal. “And I hope that I shall enjoy a great deal more of you as time goes on.”

Kael smiled dangerously. “I suppose that depends on you.”

“It does indeed.” She rose gracefully to her feet, coming the hair back from her forehead as she did so. “Please, come with me. I think you’ll find the next part of our tour very interesting.”

*****

Exiting the house through a rear door accessed through the small kitchen, Ianna led her guest along the barren grounds to the small shed which Kael had first noticed when coming upon Ianna’s house. Reaching into her pocket, Ianna removed a key which she placed in the large padlock which secured the shed’s solid door.

Slipping the lock free from the hasp, she opened the door.

Kael resisted the almost overwhelming urge to take a step back as the stench of rotting flesh assaulted her sinuses. Well used to the sickly sweet odor of decaying flesh, her stomach remained steady, but even though she was used to it, it wasn’t a preferred perfume. “Sublime bouquet,” she replied to an avidly watching Ianna. “Chateau de’ Corpse, ’89?”

Offering up a quiet chuckle, Ianna stepped inside and hit a switch next to the door. Dim overhead lighting illuminated the interior of the small building, revealing an oiled dirt floor, four garishly painted walls, and a large iron cauldron sitting in the very center, gleaming malevolently. The rest of the space was completely barren.

Though the outside air was scorching, the interior air was cold enough to raise gooseflesh on Kael’s bronzed skin. Her breath emerged as wisps of fog which quickly dissipated as they rose to the ceiling.

The chill wasn’t manufactured by some cleverly hidden air conditioning units. She could tell that without looking. Rather, it had the feel of an empty grave; a dark and rotting thing that touched upon her own darkness and pulled it effortlessly forward. She wasn’t even aware of the feral smile which slowly parted her lips, though her watcher most definitely was, and brought forth a smile of her own as Kael walked, almost trance-like, toward the center of the room.

Reaching the cauldron, Kael stopped and looked down. Inside was a dark, gelatinous mass which fairly radiated an overpowering stench, a chill that threatened to freeze her skin to her bones, and an overwhelming sense of power, hatred and fear.