Chapter Thirty-Three - Just as mother-less birds fly high

We got home at the same time as Livia and Sam. It was quite late now, so Livia started cooking while we relayed the story, with some reductions for Sam’s sake, while watching her. I am permanently banned from trying to help her in the kitchen, so don’t blame me for being the guy in the relationship.

After eating—I wouldn’t call it dinner; Livia kept it simple—we unpacked the two boxes. Sam was quite adamant about approving every single piece she allowed to be unpacked, so in the end, we still had one box of stuff left she didn’t want. Among the stuff she kept were the diary and the laptop, although she noted she only kept the latter because it was her only one. I’d bet my whole life savings on there showing up a new laptop for her within two days. Livia is predictable in that regard.

Even hurrying, it was past eight when we left the house again, splitting up as planned. Before that, I had the honour to give Geri another black eye. It wouldn’t do for her to show up without it. It took some trial and error until she managed to get her fast healing to just age it to look a couple of hours old. Which meant I had to reapply it twice.

🙚⚜🙘

Simon dropped me off just out of sight of the house without stopping all the way. I ducked behind parked cars, then made my way down the cul-de-sac where my target lived. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the shadows were long enough to give me even more visual cover. Nobody was on the street, but there were lights and the flicker of tellies in almost all houses.

I crept up to Peter’s house and noted another car had parked on the street directly in front of it. It was smaller but didn’t look cheap. Sam had never said a single word about her mom, but I guessed she still was in the picture. Now, that was what the alibi was all about.

Looking through a window, I confirmed that the two were there. I had to check two windows as the mother sat in front of the telly in the living room while Peter was in an office. It was thrice the size of Sam’s room, with the door right next to the front door. It also was sparsely furnished—if I somehow could magically swap its content with Sam’s room, there still would be plenty of room left.

‘What a bloody arsehole,’ I thought, lacking the words to describe him properly. Then I sent off the text to Kinasteria that would prompt her to text Livia and turned off the burner phone. Or, I turned off my phone with the burner SIM card in it. No need to waste a whole phone on something that’s very unlikely to come up. Technically the phone company could track my IMEI to my phone, but Greg had told me they didn’t keep those logs for long.

I counted down five minutes, cursing my decision to turn the phone off before that. I really could have used that clock. But it wasn’t that time-critical anyway, there was half an hour’s drive between where I was to where Sam would be about now or in a minute.

I checked that the nitrile gloves I wore hadn’t ripped, then put on the FFP3 mask left over from 2020. It left my eyes exposed, but who checks those details when the rest looks like someone you recognise?

I stood up and checked my path again. Peter was sitting with his back to me as I had selected the side window. After I went through, I had to go about a metre and a half, two steps, to reach him. He hadn’t moved from his space, but I now could see that he was watching some video and…he had his pants down. Either I hadn’t noticed that when I checked earlier—I had kept really low and only glanced in quickly—or he had started in the meantime.

But that was another plus point on my side. I stood back half a step, concentrated on unleashing as much of my physical power as I had in my human form, and jumped against the window hard. Usually, diving into a window pane is a bad idea, more of a window pain. If you’re human, that is. With the power of a level 4 demon behind it, it went Jane 1, window 0.

That was good because I had not been a hundred percent sure I could pull it off without dropping my glamour. It also was good, because Peter did not at all expect that and was well startled. I rolled on the ground and reached him just as he had turned far enough for me to see his dick. That arsehole wasn’t even tiny. I couldn’t imagine how that must have hurt.

There are many ways to kill a person. Most of them need tools if you want to do it in one stroke. There are some exceptions, and if you have enough power to turn a goblin into mist, there are more. In my case, I opted for a very simple one—blunt head trauma by fist.

As I felt the skull breaking and giving in under my knuckles, I grinned widely. Oh, the fun! And I wasn’t even done yet. That single hit was likely fatal, but I didn’t want likely or him to be a veggie for the next 40 years. That’s why I grabbed his head, pulled up to stretch the neck and then rotated it a bit more than half way. Again, I could feel bones snapping, marvellous!

That would finish him off, but I had one more. High kicks are a bad idea in fights, as they unbalance you in any case. But against a sitting already dead target? Why not? My foot impacted his chest right in the centre, cracking his ribs and pushing it in three inches before the impact translated to his body and the chair, and both flew against the far wall, impacting a bookcase so hard books rained down on him.

Done. That piece of shite was no longer. I could feel my class selection humming inside me, having accepted the sacrifice. I turned back to the window when my gaze fell upon the computer screen, and I froze. That excuse for a punchbag indeed had been watching porn, but it was homemade. I stared at Sam’s tear-stained and pained face while that ass-hat pumped on the other side. She looked around ten.

I wanted to barf up my supper, but nothing would rise up. Instead, I tapped the spacebar, freezing the picture for anyone to see. That’s when I noticed the reflection. The video had been taken in Sam’s room, looking nearly identical to how it had looked earlier today, and her wardrobe had mirror doors. And there, in those doors, I could see someone else. Someone holding a camera with one hand and flicking her bean with the other—Sam’s mom.

Change of plans. I checked my gloves again, but somehow, they still wore intact. Bloody but intact. Then I ran. Not away, but deeper into the house. I opened the door with the handle—no kicking doors for me without trying it out first—then ran through the bit of corridor at the front of the house. It wasn’t a fast run; there wasn’t enough space to get up to speed, but I certainly wasn’t striding or such nonsense. I was angry, not on a cold-blooded mission.

The next door was the one to the living room. I opened it, too—what else could I have done with it anyway?—then I ran at the woman sitting on the couch. She had headphones on, so she didn’t notice me. I took a quick look at her face to confirm it really was the woman from the video. It wouldn’t do any good to kill an innocent mom when the culprit had been a concubine. It was her, so I interlocked my hands and brought them down on her head with my full speed behind them. Let’s just say I didn’t have to make sure she was dead.

Being done, I retraced my steps and left through the window. Nobody seemed to have noticed what had happened in the house in less than a minute, so I took off at a leisurely jog. While I was moving, I pulled off the gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of the training jacket I was wearing, together with the mask. I zipped the pockets—that was the reason we had selected this jacket—then unzipped the jacket itself and pulled it off. Next, I knotted it around my waist, giving me the appearance of some health-obsessed person who runs around for fun.

I followed the roads until I reached the parking lot of the Merseyrail station where Simon had parked. I walked up to the trunk as if it was the most normal thing to do and it jumped open, Simon having pressed the button inside. Then I changed clothes. It was in all public, for everyone to see, but that was on purpose. If someone saw me, they would only see a jogger getting out of her sweat-drenched exercise clothing. Nobody would see that my clothes went into a black bag to be properly disposed of in a fiery way later tonight.

A minute later, I slipped into the passenger seat and mimed giving Simon a quick kiss. I couldn’t see anyone watching us, but we had a plan to stick to. He started the car and drove off at a normal speed. A mile later, he turned off into a side road, stopped and swapped the number plates back to the car’s real ones. Suspenders, belt and super glue.

🙚⚜🙘

The next stop wasn’t our flat; it was the apartment. Sam’s alibi was watertight, but so far, mine was non-existent. I didn’t even have any reason not to be with the others. Sure, as long as nobody suspected me existing, that was fine, but I couldn’t hide forever. Aside from that, plenty of people had seen us together.

The apartment wasn’t the best alibi, it would be hard to pull any of our customers in front of a judge, but on the other hand, that made it more plausible. Nobody would expect me to provide those witnesses. The girls all would swear on their lives I had been there since six, just as my shift schedule said. A nice wad of bonus and the knowledge they’d never get a job in the general area ever again made sure of that.

After a quick shower and another change of clothes, I was ready to sell my body. Or rent it out. I certainly wanted it back.

Yet the evening was slow. Friday wasn’t the best day as people often had plans in the evening, but today, it was particularly slow. Aside from two of Charlie’s regulars, they only had had two walk-in customers before I showed up. That was practically nothing, with four girls on shift.

I leaned back to be bored to death when I had an idea. I pulled out my phone—I had changed the SIM back on the drive and given the burner to Simon for disposal—and started texting Chloe, then I added Marco, Paul and Rune to the conversation.

“Hey guys. Boring shift at the apt. 50% off tonight for y’all.” 📱

📱 Chloe: “On my way. 🏃🏻‍♀️”

📱 Marco: “Over at my parents. Can’t. Sorry. :-(”

“For not even using an emoji where it would have made sense, I’m changing your discount to “50% next time”, Marco. Kisses!” 📱

📱 Paul: “You’ll never charge us full price anyway. On my way. Are the others there, too?”

“Sorry, just me. But we have a ladyboy if you want to try?” 📱

📱 Paul: “Nah, not my taste, even with the nice top half.”

📱 Rune: “I could lend you this one again, she’s always horny. Which means I’m coming, too, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Let’s keep the body swapping for next time, ok? How can we enjoy it unless we know the alternative?” 📱

📱 Paul: “She got you good there, J. You admitted you’re enjoying it. LOL.”

“That’s why I give you 50%. The rest goes to the house.” 📱

📱 Paul: “Fair. What you do, not the huge cut your pimp takes.”

“Want to complain in person? Livia will be at the guild tomorrow again.” 📱

📱 Rune: “What the? Livia’s your pimp? You need to rethink that relationship… ⛓‍💥”

“Nah, I had to talk her into it. Can’t help it she owns this business. And 💍 not ⛓!” 📱

They all arrived within ten minutes, which got us all sitting in the reception room chatting before I asked, “So, who’s first?”

They looked at each other, nobody wanting to push ahead. Finally, Paul asked, “Who’s in for a group session?” Man, he really had come a long way in those two days since he sat here, eyes like a rabbit in the gaze of a tyrannosaurus rex.

I also raised my hand to not be the odd one out.

🙚⚜🙘

In the end, I didn’t charge them anything. Halfway because I forgot to collect money upfront, halfway because at some point, Charlie walked in, telling me to “just turn off the lights and pull the door shut when you leave”. At least that’s what Rune told me later; I had my head somewhere where I couldn’t hear it.

Luckily, she also had dropped off my phone, so I did hear it when it went off around one with a call from Livia.

“Hey, Livia, Jane’s having her mouth full right now. Can I take a message?” Paul answered the phone. He was free at the moment, as he, despite what the doctors had left him with down there, needed a cool-off time after each orgasm.

“It’s so late already? I’m so sorry. We booked a group session, and then time started flying.”

“Yes, me, Rune and Chloe. Marco’s with his parents.”

“Of course, we’ll do that. Thanks for the offer. But we may need to rethink the location; the bed here is already at capacity with four.”

“I’ll drive her home, no worries. Shall I drop a text when we leave or are you off to bed?”

“Good, I’ll tell her. Good night.”

“What?” I managed to get out before Rune’s mouth caught mine again.

“Four things: Livia loves you, Geri loves you, Sam loves you, and you’re sleeping on the couch for missing your curfew. Just kidding. She asks that you try not to wake them, and they cannot guarantee to leave free space in bed for you.”

I gave him a thumbs up with my only free hand, which he took as an invitation to sit on it. End of cooldown, it seemed.