Podcasts about wiccan priestess

Becoming something of value has its downside. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Live fast, die young and leave a; No. Enjoy life and die when it is your time. Your corpse will the least of your concerns if there really is an Afterlife.”  (Monday) For some God-unknown reason I was showing up to work at 6 a.m. Monday. I swear, one of these days I'm going to show up to work naked. If asked why, I'll claim that it wasn't in my brilliantly scripted orders. I would then beg forgiveness for 'assuming' I was allowed to breath, or even be conscious. We'd all laugh. Nothing would change. They were never going to give me advance warning of what my latest errand entailed. I don't think it was in them. "You've made to Week Three," Buffy sneered as we entered the garage beneath Havenstone's skyscraper. "I'm flabbergasted." "So am I; flabbergasted that is," I nodded sagely. "I had no idea you knew what flabbergasted meant." Punch. Definitely back to the old Buffy. "You need a haircut," she commented. My phone beeped. I had data packet. I had received them before; just not from this place. I opened it up as we exited the car and made for elevators. "Holy Bat-shit Bat-Bunny!" I gasped. "Hayden's written me a letter." "Really?" Buffy was momentarily non-psychotic. I showed her my screen. Hayden had made an official declaration; something that would be in the records of the Amazons from now until forever. Any and all males of Havenstone; specifically one Cáel Nyilas; were to forthwith and immediately stop spiritually assassinating any and all Amazons and Amazon recruits. Furthermore, I was admonished for murdering Fabiola Dobrani and, under penalty of an unmentioned punishment, I was to publicly rejoice at her resurrection. Life was relentless. Buffy's phone rang. She got the same message I did; as did every freaking Amazon in the building. I didn't think the guys would be getting this memo. "I wonder how the Chicklettes are going to take this," I mused. The doors opened before Buffy could formulate her comeback. Relentless may have not been a strong enough word. Waiting for us in two distinct groups were Constanza with two SD Playboy Bunnies; opposite them was Oneida. Oneida looked; enamored. This wasn't curiosity about what my meat would feel like as it made her weep tears of rapture. This was a weekend binge of watching some of the best received, twenty-something, romantic movies of the past ten years. It was hard for me to decide which group was more divorced from reality; the Amazon man-haters, or the 'Hollywood was real' babe. "I'm going to get a bite to eat," Buffy announced. Entering the garage had completed her bodyguard duties. Oneida had the higher prestige so she came first. "Hi Cáel Nyilas," she stepped up and greeted me. She extended her hand; for me to shake. Amazons clasped forearm to forearm. I greeted her Amazon-style. "It is good to see you again, Oneida of House Arinniti," I replied. She looked upset. "You know who I am," she sighed with disappointment. "Please believe me," I stroked the side of her left cheek to the top of her ear, "had I known Friday, I would have finished up by impaled myself on your spear and cleared up a whole manner of things. Why does it matter to you that I know who you are?" "I; I didn't want to be treated as anyone special," she gazed up at me with innocent eyes. "That's not going to be a problem," I chuckled. "To me, you are nothing but another psycho-bitch that's trying to kill me. You are a black-hearted, soulless creation of Hell and I hate your guts, Oneida." "But you saved my life?" she whimpered. She was a bit more unbalanced than the normal babe employed here. Yay me. "And? See, this is why my description of you and your sisters is so accurate," I smiled while I explained. "I would try to save almost anyone because it is the right thing to do. The only reason saving you was a mistake was that it caused me to fall further into Hayden's favor. Now she's going to expect that shit on a regular basis solely because you are of House Arinniti." "Ah; I like you," Oneida pleaded. "Why?" I asked. "You risked so much for Aya. You made her laugh and smile. You; you acted as if you cared for her; as if you were her own mother," Oneida told me. "Was that a deception too?" "Hmmm; not what I expected," I mused. "Fine, realizing that I was with Aya for her sake and hers alone raises you up a step in my estimations. I'm not being deceptive about how I feel about this place, Oneida. Here, let me prove it." I looked to Constanza. "Constanza, do I hate your guts?" She glared at me. "Constanza, if I thought I could get away with it, would I shove a fragmentation grenade up your ass and pull the pin?" No response. "See," I grinned to the gawking Oneida, "I'm not being deceptive about how I feel about this place. My opinion matters not at all to these women yet they know I'll never act on my hate because of my own, perverse Code of Conduct. I'm not going to run away and I'm not going to stop being me. I'm certainly not going to fall in love with anyone here." "Oh," she muttered. "I have to go to work now. Have a nice day," I turned to Constanza. "Are you my work buddy today?" "Male, come with us," Constanza snapped. Off the four of us walked; right back to the elevator. Down we went, past any level my ID card could have accessed. Devo's Working in the Coal Mine sprang to mind, so I hummed it. I was feeling completely at ease. Constanza stood behind me, while the other two stood at either side, but half a step back so they were right at the edge of my peripheral vision. I felt like a team player; an interregnal part of my imminent demise. The group marched past the Armory. I waved to my old friend, the Kindergarten Cop. She glowered. Amazons were not martinets. They were clean-cut and proud, but vigilance meant much more than a scuff mark on a boot, or a gaze locked on the farther wall. Our trip deposited in yet another room I could never access. I was the first one through the door. I almost froze. For starters, the room was around 15 meters wide and 6 meters deep. In the center of the room was an 8x2meter table. On the table where a wide variety of firearms and ammunition. Automatic pistols, revolvers, shotguns and submachine guns plus multiple clips, or speed-loaders for them all. They hadn't brought me here to murder me with Death by multiple calibers. If they wanted me dead, they would have blown my brains out already then put a gun in my hand in a hopeless attempt to fool Katrina. The number of guns didn't even impress me. The far wall was transparent and through it I could see multiple ladies in sports bras and boy shorts shooting away on a firing range. Holy Mother of God! I was here for weapons training. What the Hell had gone wrong? As I moved deeper into the room, one SD Femi-Nazi moved down the left wall, the other moved down the right and Constanza remained two steps behind me. "Please clarify my task for this time period, Constanza?" I requested. The look she shot me was lethal. "The weapons present are ones you have stated you have a familiarity with as well as others in common usage here at Havenstone. All the rounds are hollow points, or slugs. Chose which weapons you wish to qualify in, load your clips and inform me when you have completed this part of the assignment." "Thank you," I nodded then set to the task at hand. Constanza clearly had expected me to be a smart ass. I had used learning about guns to get tail. That didn't mean I disrespected the weapons. I picked up several side arms, testing their weight and grips before deciding on the 40 caliber Smith  and  Wesson Glock 22. I felt the ammo, making sure I wouldn't be running around with blanks this time. This shit was real. Elsa had claimed she'd rather be skinned alive than let any man bear weapons in her Havenstone. Maybe I shouldn't have felt her up, or given that massage to that med tech, or stripped in the elevator. I was a really, truly naughty boy. Most women spank naughty boys. My tormentors tend to fuck with my mind because, ya know, it's harder to defend against that crap. Also, there is not a hand lotion made that will soothe the ravaged psyche. I began loading the clips. "Is that the only one you are taking?" Constanza eventually broke down and asked. "I don't want to waste your time," I replied. "This is my favorite pistol. I've shot 22, 38, 9 mm, and 45, but I'm most comfortable with this one. Maybe later I can work with the shotguns. I haven't a clue how to handle anything else." I could see it in her eyes; 'damn him; he's making sense.' There was one final way I could fuck up. I didn't. I knew firearms etiquette. Don't load your gun before taking your station at the range. Sure, all the crazy chicks could do it, but that was part of their jobs; killing things. I was a novice. I picked out some ear protection and an adequate hip holster in case Constanza wanted me to fire from the draw. I was clearly not making her day by not screwing up. "This way," she barked. She accessed the door leading to the range and out we stepped. All around, the firing slowly died. For each of the women, there was a second of disbelief followed by several more seconds of outrage. Lust was where the emotional landslide ended. I was 'That' guy. I wasn't something they could codify. I made meaningful, defiant eye contact, I dressed to impress, and I was known to be courageous. Having Hayden decide that she wanted to mate with me didn't hurt my appeal one bit. I could already tell they were figuring out where to shoot me so that I could still have sex an hour later. I was a man in Havenstone with a gun after all. I was the equivalent of the Pope in Mecca; it just didn't happen. My booth was nice and comfy. After placing my gear on the table, "What do I do next?" "Ear guards; check weapon; load, chamber, announce your preparation to fire; fire as quickly and accurately as possible. Reload and fire until you have uses all rounds," she commanded. Hmm; six meters. Standard human-scored target. I hadn't done this in a year. I shook my limbs out to get ready for the shock and recoil then steadied my breathing. Fifteen rounds, starting at the ready stance. "Ready," I pronounced. "Begin," was Constanza's muffled command. The report of the first shot, the sting of the recoil, the pull on the arm and the shell ejecting; all of those rolled over me before I could count. I almost missed the automatic slide staying open. Down went the old magazine even as my left hand retrieved and leveraged the next one in. A problem presented itself. The girl who first taught me was pretty good; in the 'if you couldn't find the prerequisite number of bullet holes in the target, everyone assumed the missing bullet had passed through one of the previous penetrations' kind of way. I was pretty lucky. She took a red hot poker to me and was thankfully far less accurate. She was so incredibly beautiful; so furious with me, naked and chasing me around a cabin lit solely by the fireplace, with that firebrand in her hand. Maybe it was wrong of me to take her English professor up to the girl's cabin for a sexual rendezvous; or stick the professor in the closet when the poor lady absolutely had go to the bathroom. Or fucked the girl on her bear skin rug until the professor had to come out of said closet before she urinated. I know; I'm an idiot. Fifteen bullets into the first target had made a mess of it. Since there was no one in either station around me, I started shooting at the target to the left. I put the last magazine into the one on the right. It took me well over thirty seconds to get all 45 shots off, but I did it. "Done," I stated as I put the gun down and took a half-step back. "Do you shoot pistols a lot?" one of my other guards asked in amazement. They had undoubtedly seen better speed and marksmanship. It was their cosmically low opinion of me that made my effort so impossible to believe. "No, I'm a Natural Born Killer," I grinned at the three of them. "Males are arrogant and take things for granted. They are sloppy," Constanza sneered. "It never fails to surprise me that you don't accept that your ancestors were some of the toughest bitches to ever walk the planet," I muttered. "What does that mean?" Constanza growled. "Warriors so tough they are remembered thousands of years later and your founders escaped with their lives; as opposed to all those Trojans, Hittites and Lydians who ended up decorating graves with their bones," I glared back. "What I mean is; why does me having a weapon really bother you? I'm am totally out-numbered, out-classed and out-gunned." "I don't want to die. I'm definitely not suicidal. I'll even take bullets, arrows and blades for you people," I snarled. "Quite frankly, all of this paranoia is really starting to get on my nerves, so fucking Cut it out!" "You do not tell us what to do," Constanza ground out. She'd grabbed my chin with one hand. "I'll keep that in mind next time an Amazon's life is in danger and a simply warning from me could save their life. Be assured I'll put your directive down for the reason they croaked," I countered. "If it was up to me, you would be killed for your insolence," she growled. "Does it ever occur to you it is the other way around?" I touched her wrist. "What?" Constanza was both irate and uncertain. "You are where you are because you have a habit of making poor decision on a strategic level," I explained. Apparently I wanted to die. "Why does anyone like you?" Constanza muttered. "Like me? Most people who know me, hate me; like you. The difference is they get to know me first then they hate me. You haven't gotten the full Cáel experience yet. You hate me on a purely generic level. Real hate comes from knowing me," I grinned. Like so much that comes from my lips, that was a lie. To be truthful, most of the women I had wronged over the past four years forgave me; eventually. Most of them figured out that I hadn't cheated on them; I cheated on EVERY girl I was with, but one; my mentor. She was the one who tossed me out among the female population in the first place. Some ladies did hold a grudge. There is one chick who burns me in effigy every year on the date of our break up. I should have known better. It was my freshman year and she was a Psychology teaching assistant. Most psych majors are wacko; more wacko than most pissed of women, I have learned from experience. I'll still date them. I also take more care about what I eat and drink around them too. "I'm glad to know you will be gone soon," she seethed then removed her hand from my chin. "Constanza, you really need to stop trusting me so much," I chuckled. "I don't trust you at all," she countered. "But you are taking my word for it that women hate me," I snickered. "More importantly, you are ignoring the facts. The majority of the women at Havenstone who like me, do so for reasons totally devoid of any intimacy. We both know I can be a jerk. I'm being a jerk right now; to you. What separates us is that I have no doubt that if you were in danger, I would come to your aid. That is the kind of person I am," I related calmly. "That would never happen," Constanza insisted. "I don't care what you think," I shot back. "I don't make decisions based on your whimsy. I follow my leadership. I know I'm loyal. Now, can we please get back to the reason we are all here?" The scoring indicated that I was so lucky that girl came at me with the poker. I missed six shots out of 45, which I thought was awesome. I even managed to badly tear up the chests of the front and left targets. The target on the right was still 'dead', but he could be buried in a tuxedo. I had one head shot; it wasn't on purpose. We went back to the gun room, reloaded my Glock, a 38 Colt and a Mossberg shotgun. One guard went with me while Constanza and the second guard scored my first round. Back in the firing lane, I lost all firearms ability what so ever. I was saved by three shooters who volunteered to help. See how easy that was? They helped me with my stances, reload techniques and argued the merits of hip holster, ankle holsters and shoulder holsters. To reciprocate their hospitality, I stripped off my annoying jacket, tie, shirt and undershirt. We got into a discussion of spent rounds bouncing around and maybe scaring the shooter. For the Amazons, it was training to ignore painful distractions. I stopped; leveled by an epic brainstorm; and fired off an order to Executive Services; care of Daphne. "What are you doing?" one of the new lethality-engines asked, somewhat piqued. "Oh, I have to celebrate Fabiola's resurrection; Hayden's orders; and that is going to require supernatural aids," I replied. I was back on track in their eyes. "What was it like to feel the strength of the Ancestors flow through you?" the second one whispered. This Ancestors and Goddess crap; mysticism was real to them. I've never claimed to be a deity though I've insinuated that I was the blood descendant of the Goddess Ishtar; reference the Wiccan Priestess; and her circle of naked female celebrants. The answer, not a total lie, was pure Amazon. "I didn't feel anything," I could sense their disappointment. "You know, all I felt was the spear and nothing else. Absolutely nothing else mattered. All other burdens and pains were lifted from me so I could devote myself entirely to the task at hand; hold the spear aloft." They ate it up because the 'stillness' was at their core of martial mystique. Bushido had it too except they called it 'No Mind', or something like that. To be honest, I had come by that state of being through sex. My focus narrowed down to my partner and all of her actions and reactions. For a lowly male, like me, to possess that quality must have been divine intervention. "You did a wonderful thing; channeling the Ancestors that way," the third stated. "Oneida is precious to the Host." "I beg to differ," I regarded her with a quirky smirk. "Every life is precious. When you start weighing a person's life before you chose to save it, you have lost much more than that split second; you have lost a piece of your soul." Oh look. I was lecturing them and they didn't like it. "Try looking at it from my viewpoint for a second," I knew they couldn't. "I'm a lowly male caught up in your fiendish experiment. I don't know who any of you are beyond the reality that you would casually harm, or even kill me for any number of reasons." "You clearly think I should cower and cow-tow to your whims and wishes," I took in their negative reactions. "I'm not. That's not me. Instead, I'm going to run errands, learn to fight, laugh, play and have a great time. If it matters; I know it doesn't to you; I am Cáel Nyilas, son of Ferko, son of Árpád of the Magyar. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope'," I added. That wasn't my family motto. We were from poor, immigrant stock. My grandparents spoke Hungarian. I knew a little of it, just not enough to be considered fluent. I knew some Vlach (Romanian) too. When your neighbors are screaming insults at you, it pays to know exactly what they are saying. Again, I'm not fluent in Vlach, but I could get in a bar fight over what I did know. "Your lineage is inconsequential," Constanza snapped. She'd come back; yippee! "How did I do, Jefe?" I beamed happiness her way. "I hate you," she said through clenched teeth. I must have done better than I thought. "Well, that's good. Maybe, under your instruction, I'll almost be a match for the other fine ladies down here one day in the distant future," I nodded happily. "That your heart still beats is an insult to everything I stand for," Constanza spat. "I'm cool with that in the same way I'm cool ignoring this whole 'blood prestige' thing. You gals aren't respecting mine and you certainly aren't explaining your rules to me, so I'm opting out of this whole 'my old lady was better at dodging arrows than yours'." "You should not insult us this way," my closet, newest gun-buddy cautioned me. "I agree. Do you even know who the Magyar are?" I inquired. "No," she shrugged. "Go find out and then we can talk," I grinned. "Until then, you are disrespecting the aim of a sniper you don't even know exists yet is stalking you." As they were struggling to figure that out, I groaned. "You are insulting my people without knowledge of who they are. You are asking me to show respect to your people without explaining to me why. I'm sure they were wonderful, fucking women, but I don't know anything about them," I related. "If you want blind obedience, go have fun with sterility," I smirked. "I've got better and more far-sighted women I'd rather be with." "Most likely you will be milked of your seed, joined with our eggs thus creating the next generation of the host," the third girl got all riled-up. Sex. "Man," I laughed. "Am I the only one here to have figured out that I, and the other new male hires, aren't the only ones being tested? Really? Come on. If Katrina wanted to train me to use a gun, she could have sent me with Desiree to a private gun range and handled this stuff off-site. No. She had to put me here; with all of you." All those smug, superior, horny chicks just realized they'd taken a philosophical snap-kick to the cranium. Tested? Amazons were tested all the fucking time. It was their culture to keep them fit, firm and alert. Best of all, the male had to be the one to bring this to their attention. I wrapped my arm around the waist of the closest Amazon and pulled her groin to my hip. "That's okay though. I'm in this for all of you," I murmured while looking deep into her eyes; as if we were the only two people in the world. "With your aid, I think we can do this; make it work. Don't you?" She nodded. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Shotguns, pistol-grip shotguns and an MP-5 joined my list of weapons I knew the basics of afterwards. Once more, I was rendered even more attractive by the fact that I could hit a man-sized target at 6 meters with a gun I had only then picked up. I had been joking about the whole 'natural born killer' comeback. I wasn't convinced that my ancestor's ability to fight all their neighbors, sometimes all at the same time, made me kick-ass. Frankly, my people had lost wars to every European empire of the middle ages and modern times. You just couldn't keep us down. Maybe resistance was genetically based. That was crazy talk; but Grandpa was a tough SOB, as was my Dad, now that I thought about it. Gramps Old Man died fighting the Russians in world war two, which was why he fled his homeland as a child. Mom's people; they were Irish; the Irish, when not fighting for their own homeland, were fighting for some else's. Mom didn't get the time to teach me much, but I do recall this: The greatest lie the Irish ever tell is that they only hate the English. The Irish hate anyone they can get their hands on, even other Irish. If you don't believe that, look at every ethnic neighborhood in the US that border an Irish enclave. They fight with them all. I got my twisted sense of humor from my Mom. I miss her so. Knowing Mom, she wouldn't be ashamed of my infidelities. She'd probably say 'he's test-driving until he finds the one that can keep him in line'. I hoped she wouldn't be ashamed of me. My time was up. I had to go to Katrina's office. Constanza banished me with a grumpy face and a dismissive wave of the hand. The chick I had put on my hip volunteered/elbowed her way to showing me out. My ID card wouldn't open any stairwell, or elevator. She felt comfortable walking around in her underwear, plus a shoulder holstered 10 mm. Ten steps out, from her left, I snaked my hand around her back to her right hip. She looked to me and smiled. "Can you give me some advice?" I inquired. "I'll try," she hedged. "Well, you are clearly in excellent physical condition. I've been trying to put together a regimen that will get my left thigh in shape," I started. She nodded. "I've a quadriceps exercise in mind, but I'm unsure about one for the gluts," I mused. She looked uncertain. I moved my hand off her hip, over to her left hand then placed her hand force on my left ass. We were now really close. "I'm afraid of losing my muscle tone. Can you help?" "Umm;” she hesitated. "I could think of a few things." She worked herself up to giving my ass a good squeeze. This was not the first male ass she'd handled yet it was most likely the firmest and most sexually promising one she'd felt. Promising something she couldn't quite envision but felt deep within her loins. She dispensed advice. I nodded appreciatively. When I asked for some kind of confirmation, she kindly put my hand on her ass which I promptly began squeezing. Like shooting fish in a barrel. We were comparing stomach and shoulder techniques on the elevator. Her name was Naomi and she was with the Security Detail and a member of House Rajah; ally of House Arinniti. Sweet! Like clockwork, Brielle and her buddy joined me in the elevator on the ground floor. They had to know somebody to track me this well. Me shirtless with an Amazon in her undies. It must be Monday morning. "This is new," Brielle commented. "Good morning, Naomi. Forget something?" "I'm on the job," Naomi retorted. It was the whole 'going without clothes' thing. "Are you protecting a bare-chested Cáel from us, or us from a bare-chested Cáel?" her companion joked. Naomi's mouth opened then shut. "I cannot talk about it. Neither one of us can," Naomi declared with authority. "That's right, Ladies," I nodded. "What happens in the laundry room, stays in the laundry room." All those who felt I'd gone to the laundry room, raise your hands. No takers. "I smell gunpowder residue," Brielle commented after she took a close whiff. "The Dominicans, Latin Kings, and the Redneck Posse have all started fighting over that little block of paradise I call home," I sighed regretfully. Silence. "Redneck Posse? That's not one I've heard of before," Naomi commented. Here we go! "Oh yeah," I looked contemplative. "Ten years ago, several linguists studying Appalachian dialects paid for some native speakers to come to the city to help in their research. The hillbillies got paid, got jobs and brought their families down." "When the grant money for the study ran out, the bumpkins had to find another way to support their kin that their minimum wage jobs couldn't providing. Enter the Redneck Posse. Guns, meth, moonshine; they do it all. They are kind of like Afghan tribesmen except instead of being half a world away by sea, or air, they are a four, or five, hour drive down the interstate," I concluded. The three women exchanged confused looks. The doors opened on my floor. "Oh my Goddess!" Brielle exclaimed. "That's almost possible to believe." I winked and left. "You mean that was a lie too?" Naomi gasped. The doors shut on that conversation as I swept through the office. I had 90 seconds to spare. Only Dora wasn't here yet, but there was a pile of boxes on my desk. They were all looking at me as if I'd just stepped out of a pool, or a French cologne commercial. I set my clothing and valise on my tiny, now over-stacked, desk then joined the line-up. "Good morning Cáel," Katrina looked me up and down. "I certainly hope it will be. Good morning to you too, Katrina," I beamed. Pause. "Forgetting something?" Katrina prodded. I sniffed the air. I didn't sense it. "Yes Ma'am, Katrina. I'm missing one thing. I hope it gets here soon," I confirmed. Pause. "Very well, let's get started," Katrina began. Fabiola lost it. "What! He doesn't have a shirt, tie, or jacket on. As far as we know, he's not even wearing underwear," she screeched. "Cáel, is your attire, or lack thereof, necessary for the performance of your duties?" Katrina politely inquired. "Yes it is Katrina," I nodded. "Very well;” Katrina started over. "What possible reason could you have for being half dressed," Fabiola ranted. "Are you going to cover yourself with oil and slither down the stairs like the snake you are?" No one said anything for a while. The rest of the 'new hires' were coming around to the fact that Katrina and I were mocking Fabiola. Otherwise, Katrina would have shut her down. I held up my hand. "Yes Cáel," Katrina acknowledged me, "despite the meeting having already begun and not being directly addressed by me, you may speak." Slap! "Fabiola, I find your desire to see me oiled up a bit perplexing," I grinned in her direction. "I would like to point out, despite the evidence you have presented today, I am not an idiot and our boss; Katrina; is not a fool. Hate me to your heart's content, but don't insult Katrina by thinking she doesn't already know what I'm up to." "She does not explain herself to me, or you, and I'm pretty sure even Hayden gets an edited view of what goes on here in Executive Services. I don't know and I don't care. That's not in my job description and I'm already way out of bounds as it is," I said. "For your sake and your sake alone, I will tell you why I'm am dressed the way I am today." "It is part of your ritual apology," Violet blurted. "It's obvious. This has to do with what Hayden told him to do." That wasn't truly fair to Fabiola. The rest of the ladies had been rushing around getting the items I decided I needed for my public apology. Dora came bolting in right then. "I'm sorry I'm late, Katrina," she panted. "Did I miss anything?" "No," Katrina returned events to their proper order. "First off, for today, I'll start with Cáel's work review for Friday. I never thought I would say this about his on-the-clock performance. Cáel, your work output on Friday was stellar. There, I said it. Next; " That would have been a far greater treasure had that been my work report instead of Aya's. Everyone else did well, save Tigger. She had forgotten a security sequence and had half a floor locked down for 15 minutes. At the conclusion, Buffy came in, slammed a flimsy, but aromatic, box into my chest then stormed away. "Cáel?" Katrina questioned. "Yes. Thank you," I then turned to Fabiola. "Do you wish to have the ceremony here, or out on the main floor of Executive Services?" "I; what are you going to do?" Fabiola grew suspicious. "This is a trick to make me look foolish again." "Fabiola, it is Hayden's wish you hear him out," Paula spoke. "He's troublesome, not stupid. I don't think he's stupid enough to defy Hayden on this." "Swear to me you are not going to make me look bad," Fabiola stared at me. "What do I possess that you believe is valuable?" I countered. She had to think about that. It couldn't be Aya. Fabiola was stumped. She had been so busy looking down her fine Roman nose at me, she had neglected to notice everything I had done and said. "Your mentor," Daphne offered. "She has forbidden me to see her again, but thank you," I winked at Daphne. A quick list of less than helpful suggestions followed. It turned out the only thing I valued was my freedom and I couldn't give that up to Fabiola because that decision lay with Katrina. I would rather defy Hayden than give up sex, I lied continuously for little, or no reason. Fabiola wasn't looking for Lent, she wanted something concrete. It simply didn't exist. Out we went with a very distraught Fabiola and me with a bunch of small boxes. I didn't worry about expensing all this crap. I wasn't spending my own money anyway. I had Fabiola stand in the largest open area ES had. Even people who only had business on this floor were joining the growing body of my co-workers here to witness the spectacle. Three small brass bowels and one small oil lamp went to the four compass points; I even had a compass. I put sand in one, water in another and dry ice in the third. I lit the lamp. "This symbols me calling the four corners of Terra to bear witness: Earth, Air, Fire and Water," I explained. Next I wrote down Fabiola's name on a slip of paper in Old Kingdom Hittite. I burned it. Fabiola frowned. She was the only one. I dropped the ashes into a glass of water. "With this, I take back my curse. I swallow it, thus swallowing my words," I explained to Fabiola. I drank the whole thing. That accomplished, I pulled a small silver owl out of an unopened box to a series of murmurs. "This is a gift to your house. Minerva (the Roman Athena) is your patron Goddess. I do honor to her for bringing you back." I handed her the owl. Her expression told me she was still waiting for the trap to be sprung on her. I wrote out my name, in Magyar then held it up to Fabiola. "This is my name, Cáel Nyilas, in my native tongue," I told her. I burned it, ground up the ashes with my fingers. With a little bit of coordinated effort, I drew the word 'forgiveness' in Old Kingdom Hittite over my heart. The last box. It was Dobos Tortas, a sweet treat from my native land; Hungary, not Chicago. "Please accept this gift as a symbol of my apology and my desire to seek your forgiveness," I looked into Fabiola's eyes. The weight came crushing down on her. Virtually all the women around her wanted me to be forgiven. Not because they hated her. Most barely knew her; or me. It was the ceremony. Simple, relatively quick yet individualized by the giving of gifts designed for each participant. Deep in her twisted little soul, Fabiola still expected a trap, trick, or joke at her expense. She probably thought the 'cookies' were poisoned. "I forgive you," Fabiola stated. She put her hand on my shoulder. "Share a treat with me." I even let her pick out the one to stick in my mouth. Maybe she thought I had the antidote, or maybe she decided I was on the up-and-up. The crowd of Amazons made happy, communal noises and we all parted as friends; okay, friends and their dancing bear; me. Katrina snuck up on me as a handful of woman thanked me for the insightful ceremony. I told them they were welcome while neglecting to inform them that I made all of that up. Part of it was Wiccan. Part was some 1960's Italian movie I'd seen. A few things I pulled out of my ass, like normal. "Put on your clothes," Katrina handed me my things. "You did well. I am sure Hayden will be equally pleased." "No problem," I looked at her appreciatively. I felt a cerebral connection evolving between us. "Put on your shirt before I start licking your nipples," Katrina demanded. Damn it. Wait, things got better. As I looked away from Katrina and started getting dressed, Buffy appeared before me. I bet I could have melted an ice cap with the head of steam she'd built up. "Do you like dressing as a male stripper? Do you like women drooling all over you?" Buffy sizzled. "No; yes," I responded. "I hate you," she snapped. "I admire the fact that you can pull off the lead in Madame Butterfly," I bantered back. "Let's get to work," Buffy growled. Off we went. (Elsa Round Three) "Hello Stanica," Buffy greeted the SD guard at the gym facility door. That was new. Normally it was a card-swipe and in you went. Buffy and I were dressed for a workout; per orders. "Full-bloods only," Stanica stopped Buffy. Ah, racism was raising its ugly head. "How am I supposed to get in?" I countered. This appointment was in our queue for 11 a.m. "You have been summoned," Stanica clarified. "Cool; I'll be back in 70 days. Good job Chuckles," I grinned. "You have been summoned," she threatened with a great deal more menace. "He works for me today," Buffy yawned. "That means he goes where I go. Cáel doesn't have a queue today, I do. He's my intern. If you won't let me in, then he doesn't go in. Let's go Cáel." Stanica grabbed my arm. "He goes in. You stay," she insisted. "Cáel; resist," Buffy ordered. To Stanica, "Knock yourself out." Stanica briefly tried to move me. Then she went for some kind of control-hold/lock. Brazilian jujitsu, Baby. It is not some kind of 'super' martial art. As far as I knew, none of them were. If you were trying to break, or establish physical control over another person, it was pretty spectacular though. Along with the Amazon 'house' style, she knew something akin to Krav Maga. Stanica was hampered by her unwillingness to do me serious harm, as was I toward her. The difference was, all I had to do was stay in the hallway, while Stanica had to get me through the doors. The stalemate was broken by two fresh full-bloods coming from the changing room to the facilities. "Sisters, assist me," Stanica called out. "Help me wrestle him to the ground without undo damage." They came forward and jumped me. "Are you on official Havenstone business?" Buffy politely inquired as they dog piled on me. "Shut up," Stanica yelled. "Failing to adequately explain the situation," Buffy quick drew her pistol and pressed it to the temple of one of the two new Amazons, "informs me you are willingly interfering in official Executive Services business." "By all means, give me an excuse to file an incident report," Buffy grinned feral. "Do it and you die, 'Lost Blood' (Old Kingdom Hittite)," the threatened woman responded. "Boss, may I suggest an alternative?" I ground up. They had me pressed down in the hall. "I'm willing to accept you were hired for your intelligence," Buffy allowed. "Trust me. I got this," I snickered. Buffy didn't trust me, yet she knew my tone well. Buffy holstered her weapon and stood back. "This isn't over, Buffy," the Amazon she'd pulled down on snapped. "Go for it," Buffy chuckled. "You are running off with Katrina's male. I was trying to assert her rights and you have defied her. I gleefully await her judgment." The woman snarled then grunted as my three captures pulled me up. Buffy was on her phone, typing away a text when the women realized my feet weren't planted under me. I started to topple over. "Stand up, damn you," Stanica demanded. I looked to Buffy for confirmation of that order. She smiled while indicating nothing. "Stand up," the third Amazon insisted. She backed that up with a jab to my left kidney. Damn, this place was hellishly unlucky for the left side of my body. That did not encourage me to stand. "Fine, we'll drag him in," Stanica changed up. I didn't resist one bit. I acted like dead weight. This scene was made all the more precious by the audience Elsa had gathered for whatever exhibition she had planned for me. The whole sparring area was surrounded by Amazons clearly waiting on me. Most were cross-legged though a few knelt behind the first rank. I could see Elsa, spear in hand, watching those three lugging me in from her position in the Southwest corner of the mats. "What's wrong with him?" Elsa inquired calmly. "He is afraid," Stanica answered. I would have replied, but I knew silence would be far more cutting. See; everyone expect me to have a comeback. My quiet unsettled them. The three unceremoniously dumped me next to the Northeast corner. I lay there. I had noticed two axes about a meter in on the mat. I pulled myself into a position where my ass was resting on my heels. "My Sisters," Elsa began. "There has been some interest in Cáel's two-axe style as well as various theories on how to defeat it. Today, I will display the long spear technique's ability to overcome this problem." "Cáel, pick up the axes and prepare yourself. I will wait until you indicate your readiness," Elsa nodded my way. Very friendly. I looked around a bit, rather bored. "Cáel?" she repeated. I looked at Elsa. "Oh, were you under some delusion that you could tell me what to do, Elsa?" I replied. There was a hush for so many reasons. Elsa being denied, a man denying anything to any of them, and my cavalier, even dismissive attitude toward the Full-blooded assembly. "Under what delusion do you think you can safely defy me?" Elsa smiled shark-like. "Hmmm," I mused, "let me think. You are not Hayden, Katrina, or Buffy; my chain of command. You are not Aya, who I love. You are not acting in my best interest as it relates to Havenstone. Yeah, that should about cover it." "I am a woman of Havenstone and I am giving you, a male, an order. There is no acceptable reason to disobey," Elsa countered. "You are incorrect," I began. The ladies around me didn't like that. "I cannot betray my Amazons. You do not possess the power to force me to disappoint them." "Your Amazons?" A chocolate Amazon with a shaved pate jumped up. "We are not 'yours', filth." "Were you born stupid, or has education made you that way?" I spat back. An ass-whooping was in the offing. "If you came at Hayden, or Katrina, do you think I'd sit idly by and let them fight alone?" I kept at it, though I remained kneeling. "If you threaten any member of Executive Services, or House Epona, make peace with your Ancestors because I will fight, bleed and die for MY Amazons. I've already proved that oath. Your opinion on the matter is less than rat-piss to me." I'm sure arrogance has a use. I haven't found one yet, but I don't ignore the possibility. Chocolate chick grabbed for my hair, ready to slit my throat the moment she tilted my head back. This would have been appropriate if I was one of their old male population. Only total arrogance had kept her from actually listening to the words of defiance coming out of my mouth. I caught her hand, flipped her over and drove the top of her skull into the mat. That shoots a numbing jolt right up the spine, I can tell you from experience. I snatched the knife from her helpless fingers as she finished flipping over, her head closest to me then pressed the blade to her jugular. "Not a single person in this room matters to me. The only person that should matter to you, is me," I stated calmly and quietly. "That being the case, chose your next words carefully and with due consideration of everything I've said before this moment." I was going to die if I killed her. That wouldn't save her life from her own, small, razor-sharp blade. Almost a minute passed. "Cáel, give me my blade," she replied in a rather brave voice. I pulled my hand up, spun the blade around and pressed it into her palm. She slowly sat up and swiveled around until we were face to face, her cross-legged and me, back to my kneeling pose. Her eyes were ice cold. "I was never in any danger, was I?" the woman half-asked, half stated. "Of course not. I would never shame Katrina that way. I'd kill for her. Killing an Amazon to save my own life would not be something she'd allow," I explained as much to the room as the woman. "Don't lie," another Amazon teased me; thankfully. It was Traska Maza; from the Medical Center. "I heard you murdered an Amazon on Friday; end of business." "Yep," I confessed. "Hayden has admonished me from repeating that method of assassination. I swear that if Fabiola keeps calling 'Runners' 'Lost Bloods', I'm going to figure out another way to get her." "The term 'Lost Blood' is the term we use. Accept it, Male," Stanica growled. I had to think about that. I stood up, so I had a good view of the SD bitch. I also had to work up the proper insult. Anything I directed at Stanica would be useless. I knew their weakness though. "Hey," I addressed my African opponent. "Stanica's mother mated with her own paternal male to give birth to Stanica. I read it in an inner-office e-mail." Total lie, but the 'lie' wasn't mine. It was from an unnamed Amazon and it insulted her bloodline, something she truly valued. I glared at Stanica. "That is why it is insulting. In a blood-conscious culture, you are rubbing their noses in a fact beyond their control." "I agree," Oneida spoke up. "'Lost Bloods' is insulting. I had never questioned that before. 'Runners is a better term. I will ask my house to use it from now on." "That's not going to save him," Stanica seethed. "Do you want to know where the memo came from?" I inquired of Stanica. "There is no memo," Stanica snapped. I shrugged. "Why would I make it up? Such a deadly insult?" I pressed the point. Oh, I had made it up because I hate bigotry, especially when it is aimed at someone who was almost a friend. "Who?" she glared. "I don't know, but I know who does," I offered. "She's right outside that door," I pointed to the main entrance. Now, do people recall that divide I was talking about way back in Chapter Two? It worked both ways. Full-bloods were aware of the oppression they exerted on their 'Lost Blood/Runner' sisters. Creeping around in the back of some of their minds was the worry that those newcomers resented their superiors. Had the two groups been truly united, Stanica wouldn't have given my bluff a second glance. Here was the backlash of being a bigot; the idea that those you hated, hating you right back. In short order, Buffy was by my side and listening to Stanica's grievance. Finally we were speaking English again. "Man, Desiree is going to be so sorry she missed this," Buffy looked down at me. I was kneeling again so she was able to appear lofty and run her hand through my hair the way she liked to do when she was extra horny for me. I also liked the way her boobs nearly obscured her face from my view. Very nice tits. "Stanica, he lied to you," Buffy revealed. "I knew it! Stand aside, I'm going to gut the little shit," Stanica started to come at me. "No you don't," Buffy interposed herself. "See, Cáel was following his instructions and he used your idiocy against you, Dumbass," she gloated to Stanica. "He was ordered to serve at my side today, so that is what he did. Who in the right mind would commit anything about blood prestige to an office e-mail anyway? It wasn't even up to his normally superb level of deception." "Then he should be punished for lying to me," Stanica seethed. "I told him to," Buffy wasn't even lying. She'd approved my plan the moment she agreed to 'trust me'. "When?" Elsa requested. She was coming our way. Buffy looked over her shoulder. "Funny, you don't look like Katrina, Elsa," Buffy guffawed. "Make an official request through the proper channels. You don't get to tell me what to do." "Do we need to clarify our positions?" Elsa menaced. I jumped up and took up a boxing stance. With Stanica on one side, Elsa on the other and the preference of Amazons to gang up on opponents, I had to have her back. "Kneel," Buffy tapped my shoulder. I knelt. "Honestly Elsa, Cáel fucked me so hard and long this weekend that even your pettiness doesn't annoy me today. Now, why are we here?" "He's not allowed to have sex," Traska seemed a bit distressed. Me having sex outside the office had never occurred to her apparently. "Strangely, I have all of you to thank for that," Buffy smugly regarded the room. "While you let Constanza and Crewe ambush him then sat back uselessly while he kicked both their asses, gazed on as he refused to take advantage of Constanza once she was clearly incapable of resisting and let her put a blade to his throat, he found a way to legally sleep with me." "Afraid? With a blade to his throat, he couldn't care less about any of you," Buffy regaled them. "Oh, we know you don't care what he thinks; or what I think. Well, welcome to the world you've created. I don't care what you think. Blood Prestige? I'll only give as much respect as I'm given. I am embarrassed I ever thought any of you were better than me." "My prestige is that I volunteered for this lifestyle. I made a choice that no one else in this room ever had the courage to make; to abandon my old life for another, unknown one. From here on out, I'm going to be like Cáel. One of you bitches puts a hand on me, be ready to back it up," Buffy challenged them. Not the best move as far as I could tell. "Be prepared to be put in your place," Elsa grinned. "Go right ahead. Don't get too worked up. There are around a hundred of my fellow; 'Runners' at the door," Buffy smirked. "It is best to end this rebellion right now," the chocolate opponent stood up. "Over what?" I looked up. I hated Buffy making me kneel. "The 'Runners' are doing the exact same tasks you are doing. They want to be awarded respect for that." "This is not your place," the woman stated to me. As an afterthought. "Ngozi." "Thank you," I acknowledged her consideration of giving me her name. "Ha," Buffy snorted. "Oh; rebellion? Let's just say when we realized that (dead word) meant Lost Bloods, we were; unhappy. All this weekend, this petty insult had been spreading out to all our non-Full-blood sisters. Actually, we have come up with two alternatives. One was to approach Hayden with our grievance." "The other was to start calling the rest of you (dead word) (which meant 'Poison Bloods')," Buffy stared down the festering crowd. "After all, we are all fertile and the few children we have been allowed to have are born without defect." Amazons don't threaten often. Normally they simply go straight to the punishment. I was somewhat of an exception for reasons that somehow alluded me. I tried to stand again, but Buffy pushed me back down. Pain was imminent then the muttering began. Around us, small clumps of Full-bloods began pushing for space. That could only mean they were getting ready to fight and since they weren't close to us, they were getting ready to fight their own sisters. I doubted they were enamored with me, or the 'Runner' cause. This was a common sense reaction. They recognized a no-win contest when they saw it. 'Runners' were demanding respect; same recognition for taking the same risks. They weren't even asking for admission into the 'Host'; the true Amazons and their House structure. The tipping points in this protest had been Fabiola and the loyalist opposition led by Helena, the only 'Runner' close enough to my struggle Friday afternoon that could have started it. Remember, the Old Kingdom Hittite language was a closely guarded secret. So secret that Buffy, despite her years of loyal service, hadn't been taught it. There had been decades of small slights that led to this. It wasn't me, except for the definition thing. Fabiola was hardly an aberration. The other female 'new hires' were more the exception than the rule. That was probably why Katrina had chosen them. In her profession; internal and external security; creative thinking and flexibility were as important as blood lines. "Excuse me," a soft voice penetrated the chaos. The noise died down. Tessa Carmichael moved through the crowd to the mat. "Oh, by the Seven Sister Goddesses, of course Cáel Nyilas is here." Then, in English, "Buffy, pardon me but I think this needs my attention." See, a good ass-reaming is done in a target's native language. Tessa went back to Old Kingdom Hittite. "Why are there a 150 sisters outside in the hall milling around?" Tessa began. She held up her hand to truncate the various responses. "Why does it look like you are all preparing for a general melee? Lastly, why are Buffy and Cáel even here? You would think that after his last episode, he'd be avoiding this place." "The 'Lost Bloods' outside are part of a rebellion of their kind, a few of our sisters don't appreciate the threat this poses and; Cáel is here because Elsa invited him here," Ngozi explained. "I'm not exactly sure why Buffy is here?" "Cáel, have you inflicted this building with a histrionic-inducing vapor?" Tessa looked at me with exasperation. I blinked. I had to recall what 'histrionic' meant then I knew what to do. I held up my hand in front of my face, exhaling into it to see if something was 'bad' with my breath. Next, I sniffed my underarms. Lastly, I peeked down my tight shorts to make sure that wasn't the cause. "Nope," I reassured Tessa, "I'm good. I mean, I've been good; this time." "Will miracles never cease," Tessa muttered. The comedy was bleeding the tension and hostility from the room. "Let me try this again. Since top down doesn't work, let's start in the dirt beneath the basement. Cáel, what is going on?" "Okay; give me a second to make this sound reasonable and convincing," I furrowed my brow. "For starters, Buffy and me were working the queue which currently indicated that I was to come here and participate with Elsa in a weapons exhibition," I began. "Buffy became confused by the flickering ceiling lights so I persevered alone. While we waited, Elsa and I engaged in a discussion of corporate etiquette." "The conversation migrated into matters of close combat techniques and mat thickness, which Ngozi assisted with. Clearly satisfied that we were all becoming fast friends, the discussion traveled to Old Kingdom Hittite terminology, background and the ambiguity of some definitions," I continued my literary conjurations. "Buffy discovered she hadn't made me her bitch in the past ten minutes, so hunted me down to this place," I grinned at Buffy. "Since Buffy was hankering for a bit of cuddle time, we were wrapping up the matter of 'Lost Bloods' only being used by total Prom Queen Wannabes while 'Runners' was growing in popularity because it was a word actually used at your people's genesis." Pause. "Was any bit of that the truth?" Tessa looked to Elsa and Ngozi. "No," they both responded. "But, it makes the mess that happened sound far better than the reality," Ngozi added. "That I will agree with," Elsa said. "Buffy," Tessa addressed my boss in English, "the Council will discuss this matter of terminology at the next meeting. Have our sisters outside disperse." "Yes Tessa," Buffy nodded then weaved her way to the entrance. Tessa walked up, patted me on the head as she shook hers. "We really should poison, strangle, stab, shoot and finally throw you off the highest available peak," she smiled warmly at me; psycho. "If you added 'rolling me in a carpet and tossing me in a frozen river' we could call it 'pulling a Rasputin," I grinned back. "I love you," she looked all affectionate. I wanted to cry on the inside; and the outside. "Damn! Now you tell me," I grumbled. "I sent away for a mail-order bride from the Ukraine on Sunday and you know there is no money-back guarantee." "You are enchanting," she chuckled. I wanted to die. "You'll get used to us, I promise." Yes, the head of Human Resources could read my mind. "Tessa, before I get back to Elsa demolishing me, can I ask you something?" I inquired. "Yes." "During that last interview process, you were seriously throwing out the 'let's do it on the table' vibe, weren't you?" I posed. "Very much so," she beamed utter joy. "I was truly impressed that, with your history with woman, you constrained yourself." "If I had come on to you, would I have lost this job opportunity?" I asked. "Oh Goddess no," Tessa laughed. "Someday I should let you read the sheaves and sheaves of transcripts our investigators gathered on your sexual exploits." "That's why you've never encountered anyone from Human Resources in the building. They are forbidden to be alone, or only in the company of other Human Resources employees, with you out of fear they'd rape you," Tessa informed me. "Is he really that good?" Traska asked. "His college years don't read as a triple X rated movie; they read as top shelf erotic fiction," Tessa enlightened the masses. "Oh, Cáel, the nun hopes you're are still seeking spiritual fulfillment." "Cool. How is she doing?" I responded. "She's in Uganda, working at a Catholic school for war orphans," Tessa answered. "You slept with a nun?" Oneida gulped. "Oneida, if there was no intern program, and this wasn't an Evil Empire, I'd never leave this place. I'd move my bed into a spare room, set up a mini-bar and spend every second off the clock seducing each and every one of you," I stated. Even the ones who didn't terribly like me chuckled, snorted, or laughed. "To answer your question: sort of Oneida. I slept with a woman who was about to take Holy Vows, not truly a nun," I confessed. "I've slept with a Wiccan Priestess too, if that matters." "Why do you think you can treat us like those lesser women?" Ngozi looked angry. "You have tits, a vagina, are straight, or bisexual, and between the ages of 18 to 70," I shot right back. "I have no desire to sleep with men, or lesbians. Outside of that, given somewhere between five minutes and five days, I could nail every women in this room. It is not that I'm better than any of you." "I can do it because you all are hopelessly arrogant, thus unable to put forth an effective defense because you don't believe I can seduce you. Add to that, I can figure out what you want in an erotic encounter. End of story," I sighed. "Frankly, having lived lives devoid of romance, you Full-bloods are too easy." I could see Tessa smirking. Not only had I seduced all kinds of women, apparently all of them had been willing to relate those encounters. I'm a great lover and a lousy boyfriend. "We would never submit to your predations," yet another Amazon jumped in. Sex. I told them, they are simply too easy; except Katrina, Tessa and Hayden. They were scary. I'd still sleep with them because I had no common sense. "Hey Lady, if you want to be on top, I'm okay with that," I smiled disarmingly. Plant the idea of erotic positions early. It can be as easy as pushing up against a girl from behind, or a hug. "If I ever consented to have sex with you, you would do what I said," she persisted. "That sounds like fun; 70 more days and its Hunting Season," I winked. I repeat,

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..

For the last 50 years, many people around the world but particularly in the west, identify themselves as a witch and if asked what religion they ascribe to, will say Wicca. Despite what some claim, the roots of Wicca are thoroughly modern and go back no further than the 20th century. Indeed, Wicca has been dubbed the only fully formed religion that England has given the world. Many myths and misconceptions surround Wicca, so much so that even those who claim to be a Wiccan will be unaware of many of the finer details of its origins. To set the record straight is Wiccan Priestess, author and owner of the greatest occult bookshop in the world, Christina Oakley-Harrington!

On the Secret Witch Show today our guest is Phyllis Curott. Phyllis is one of America's first public Witches and a Wiccan Priestess.  She's an attorney whose groundbreaking cases secured the rights of Witches, and she's the most widely published, internationally best-selling Wiccan author in the world. She's the creator of the ‘Witches Wisdom Tarot', and the online course Awaken the Witch Within, and her book ‘Spells for Living Well, A Witch's Guide to Manifesting Change, Wellbeing and Wonder'.  The recipient of numerous honors, Phyllis was inducted into the Martin Luther King Jr. Collegium of Clergy and is a Trustee and Program Chair of the Parliament of the World's Religions.   Phyllis is a third time guest to the Secret Witch Show, and in today's episode, we dive into all things divination.  We explored what divination is, and how it can help sensitive souls heal and connect to your soul, exploring how everyone has a magic within and everyone is connected to the natural world - and how tarot can help you open to your gifts and fulfil your unique purpose. What You'll Learn from this Episode:   Tarot is a tool that guides us home to ourselves - that helps us heal, reconnect to our wellbeing and soul; and it does this by providing answers to questions that help us access our own inner guidance system We learn, through tarot, to access our own wisdom, rather than to outsource our power to others - like some patriarchal models.  The more we practise tarot, the more we learn to cultivate our own inner wisdom We can also access our inner wisdom by communing with the spirits of nature and see what they reveal to us. These spirits show us that we are never alone; we are constantly surrounded by wisdom and guidance - if we are open to receive its signs and synchronicities.  Nature's magic is organised in a way to support us and heal us and help us and guide us and all we have to do is pay attention and participate  We can sometimes feel that there's a fight between logic and magic, when we come to heal ourselves magically, and the truth is, there's a way that we can embrace both - it's not an either/or We each have unique soul gifts, and the route to finding them is through healing ourselves first, because it is in our wounds that our gifts are found.   Resources and Things that We Spoke About:   Social: Tiktok - @archetypalapothecary Instagram - @iamnicolebarton Instagram - @archetypalapothecary You Tube - https://www.youtube.com/@secretwitchsociety Join our Secret Witch Society: www.facebook.com/groups/secretwitch  Website: www.nicolebarton.co.uk  Phyllis has a free gift for the Secret Witch listeners: A Step by Step Guide to Spellcasting at. www.phylliscurott/spellcasting Website:   phylliscurott.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/phylliscurott Instagram: www.instagram.com/phylliscurott/ Twitter:     https://twitter.com/phylliscurott YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/PhyllisCurottWitchcrafting Thank you for listening, we'd love to know what comes alive for you in this week's episode, so please let us know.   If you loved it, there's a fresh episode every other week - subscribe so you don't miss it!   Thank you, Nicole and Team Secret Witch xox  

Welcome, Medicine Witches! I've been in an absolutely FIERY portal of transformation recently in which I'm being called to show up in my FULL expression so I've been sharing all aspects of the Witch playing out in life - including the archetype of the Dominatrix and the Submissive - so be prepared for the energetic that's coming to this show as we move forward! That said this is quite a gentle dose of archetypal medicine today, but just potent. I'm really seeing how everything I dose is energetic medicine - whether it be a podcast episode, or a social post - and I'm playing with the potency I dose (in homeopathic language, which is the lineage of our Archetypal Apothecary model) we dose in different levels - Centesimal and Millesimal - and centesimal is dosing lower, where milesimal is higher - so I'm consciously playing with my dosing at the moment via all mediums (and let me tell you, if you choose into one of my crucibles, I'll be dosing 10M - which is about as punchy as you can get!) Follow on Instagram On the Secret Witch Show today our guest is Dr Rebecca Beattie. Rebecca is a Wiccan Priestess with a PhD in Creative Writing. She grew up on Dartmoor, which gave her an early appreciation of the power and joys of nature and she has been practicing witchcraft for twenty years. She is acclaimed for her highly informed teaching of witchcraft subjects at Treadwell's Books in Bloomsbury. In this episode we explored how to harness magical sabbats to discover your purpose, diving into how they can be harnessed as archetypal energies to work with as a lens for self-discovery of our purpose. We talked about learning to work cyclically and discern between intentionally and consciously choosing soul-aligned living - and how being ourselves is the only way to truly living from our soul's gifts. What You'll Learn from this Episode: The more “me” we become, the better life gets - when we are unapologetically ourselves, then we live from purpose We need to heal ourselves before we can heal the world - and that starts with going into the darkness and facing things that most people just wouldn't want to face - but the Archetypal Witch is actually really good at that The Wheel of the Year is a modern iteration of something very ancient that is grounded in nature - but we don't work with it in an orthodox way; it's essentially an archetypal embodiment model that's a nurturing guide, rather than a prescription for what we do We can use each sabbat festival as a means of self-discovery - for example, Beltane is about fire and joy - how do we relate to these in our lives? We created ‘story' (and each festival has its own story) so that we can understand ourselves more deeply - and this is how we self-heal and discover our purpose - we aren't here to to be fixed   Resources and things that we spoke about: Instagram: @iamnicolebarton Instagram: @archetypalapothecary  TikTok: @teamsecretwitch  Facebook: Nicole Barton  Private Facebook Group: Secret Witch Society  Website: www.secretwitch.co.uk - check out our other episodes Rebecca Beattie Website: www.rebeccabeattie.co.uk  Rebecca Beattie Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rebeccambeattie/  Rebecca Beattie Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Rebeccabeattie13   Thank you for listening, we'd love to know what comes alive for you in this week's episode, so please let us know. If you loved it, there's a fresh episode every other week - subscribe so you don't miss it! Thank you,   Nicole xox

In this episode, Asta is joined by Astrologer, Psychic and Witch, Inbaal Honigman. Inbaal is an Israeli-born British psychic and Wiccan Priestess. She has been seen on television programs such as Big Brother's Little Brother, House Busters and Most Haunted. She has also been Elle magazine's astrologer in the UK and has acted as guest astrologer for Elle magazine in Japan on several occasionsShow less Become a member at https://plus.acast.com/s/asta-vision. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Join The Witch Source for an interview with Belladonna Laveau, Archpriestess of ATC International. This interview was fascinating, magical, informative and a lot of fun! With a bit of magical history and lots of present day pagan information and resources, and news on a magical festival coming this spring.  Bella is the Matriarch of the Aquarian Tabernacle Church, Intl. and is considered a voice of the Goddess by the pagan community. As the Hierophant of the Great Mother Demeter, Bella is a direct channel for the Goddess and serves at Her behest. Bella is also Dean of WiccanSeminary.EDU, the only formal Wiccan sponsored college. Bella's book series, "The ABC's of Witchcraft" are part of the Freshman core curriculum in the Seminary.  A Navy Veteran, Mother of three, and professional Spiritual Counselor; Bella is a full-time Wiccan Priestess. Her ministry helps professionalize Wiccan Clergy and provides big church resources for existing Wiccan ministers to be more effective in serving a modern congregation. Learn more about Bella and the ATC at www.atcwicca.org and follow them on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ATCIntl/  and learn more about the school at www.wiccanseminary.edu/ and find out more and how to go join or go to the Spring Mysteries at www.springmysteries.com this event promises to be magically fantastic!  Please leave us a positive review wherever you are listening to help others find us & share with your friends. As always, we love hearing from you with question, comments and show requests at thewitchsource@gmail.com. You can also find the video on YouTube under podcasts. We hope you enjoy! Stay Magical!  Connect with Whitney and The Witch Source, check out our shop and NEW Sprays and Products, or book a private reading www.thewitchsource.com. Find us on Social Media: YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter & Etsy @TheWitchSource www.facebook.com/thewitchsource/ and don't forget to join the Facebook group The Witch Source Society! Love, Light & Magic,  Whitney 

My guest this week is Dr Rebecca Beattie. Rebecca has just released a book called ‘The Wheel of the Year', which is a look at what is happening in nature and in ourselves as the seasons move from one to the other. She suggests tools and rituals to rediscover and appreciate each seasonal festival, giving you a chance to pause, reflect and connect you to the wheel of your own life. As this is the last episode of 2022 and the winter solstice is just 2 days away, I thought this would be a perfect way to wrap up the year and to encourage you to take time to appreciate, well time, as it passes and as things shift from one state of being to another. Christmas can be a frenetic time so I hope you can take half an hour out of your schedule to sit down and listen to Rebecca and to contemplate your place in the wheel of the year. Dr Ian Bedford's Bug of the Week: Lycaenidae butterflies What We Talk About What is the wheel of the year? The origins of the events and customs you find at the sabbats In our secular society, are we beginning to realise the importance of connecting back to a framework that makes sense of time and our place in the world? Useful hints for people to make sure they remember to mark the passing of seasons at appropriate times Advantages gardeners have in terms of being connected to the wheel of the year Our own annual wheel of the year and how this connect to those that occur in nature  How our unsettled seasons might affect how we celebrate the sabbats About Rebecca Beattie Dr Rebecca Beattie is a Wiccan Priestess with a PhD in Creative Writing. Rebecca grew up on Dartmoor, which gave her an early appreciation of the power and joys of nature. She has been practising solitary witchcraft for twenty years and an initiate of the Gardnerian Wiccan tradition for fifteen. She is acclaimed for her highly informed teaching of witchcraft subjects at Treadwell's Books in Bloomsbury. By day she is a professional in a major charity, with advanced degrees in Literature and Creative writing. Links The Wheel of the Year by Rebecca Beattie - Elliott & Thompson Ltd, October 2022 Catherine Heatherington Designs Other episodes if you liked this one: Sacred Woodlands with Simon Leadbeater Sensory Herbalism with Karen Lawton Patreon Membership

Welcome to series 5, episode 7 of the Prompted by Nature podcast. I hope you're doing well and keeping warm if it's as cold where you are as it is here. Well, it's the final episode of 2022 and I'm very excited that this week's guest is the one who will help us draw it to a close. i'll be taking a short break but will be back to continue series 5 in the new year. This week, I'm speaking with Dr Rebecca Beattie. Rebecca is a Wiccan Priestess with a PhD in Creative Writing, whose childhood growing up on Dartmoor gave her an early appreciation of the power and joys of nature. She has been practising solitary witchcraft for twenty years and an initiate of the Gardnerian Wiccan tradition for fifteen. She is acclaimed for her highly informed teaching of witchcraft subjects at Treadwell's Books in Bloomsbury. By day she is a professional in a major charity, with advanced degrees in Literature and Creative Writing. In this conversation we discuss: Rebecca's creative journey How Rebecca found modern Paganism and how this led her to find her path as a Wiccan Priestess ‘Life as a Training Ground' How Rebecca approaches creative blocks How her ‘Wheel of the Year' book came about and what makes it different The connection between creativity and spirituality Walking as an opportunity for stillness What the wheel of the year is and how it can be used The interfaith nature of the wheel Storytelling as a learning tool Rebecca's early life living on Dartmoor and what drew her back there Connecting to nature in an urban setting Hiraeth is the word Rebecca uses to describe her feeling of homesickness Rebecca's tips for connecting with each festival You can find Rebecca's book, ‘Wheel of the Year: A Nurturing Guide to Rediscovering Nature's Seasons and Cycles' is available at all good booksellers and in the Prompted by Nature bookshop over on bookshop.org (link in show notes). Remember to support your favourite indie bookshop by buying through them and then post a review on Amazon. Rebecca's website is www.rebeccabeattie.co.uk and she's on Instagram @rebeccambeattie Some episodes that would go well with this one are: 1.10a Jini Reddy, Finding Magic in the Landscape 3.2a Stella Tomlinson, Priestesshood and Earth-Based Spirituality 4.11a Annabel Abbs, Walking into Creativity 4.12a Soraya Abdel-Hadi, ‘Finding my Creative Voice through Nature As always, I'm on www.promptedbynature.co.uk and on the socials @prompted.by.nature on Insta and Facebook. The writing prompt for this episode is available straight after this one if you want to use it to inspire your Winter Solstice celebrations. Have a wonderful festive season, whatever you're celebrating. Happy listening and I'll speak to you in 2023! Helen x

On the Secret Witch Show today our guest is Phyliss Curott. Phyllis Currott is one of America's first public Witches and a Wiccan Priestess. She's an attorney whose groundbreaking cases secured the rights of Witches, and she's the most widely published, internationally best-selling Wiccan author in the world. She's the creator of the Witches Wisdom Tarot, and the online course Awaken the Witch Within, and her new book Spells for Living Well, A Witch's Guide to Manifesting Change, Wellbeing and Wonder. The recipient of numerous honors, Phyllis was inducted into the Martin Luther King Jr. Collegium of Clergy and is a Trustee and Program Chair of the Parliament of the World's Religions. In this episode we dive into spellcasting as a spiritual, energetic healing practice, exploring the importance of spellcasting as a way of working with the spirits of the nature, as a powerful witch.  We how to cast powerful spells, and the art of that - how to get it “right” - and, how to invoke the energetic of the Phosphoric Witch's fire element in spells, with deep reverence, so you can become the magical one, or even healer, you came here to be.   What You'll Learn from this Episode:   Spells are a spiritual practice - they are a way of working with the spirits of the elements and nature, which is very different to your average use of a spell, but each of the elements are their own independent, natural, organic forces with a spiritual wisdom.  That's what we are working with to create magic - and you can have conversations with them. Fire is an agency of change - and it can destroy if you don't have the right reverence and relationship with it; use it well and you'll create magic that changes the world, use it with a negative intention and it will be destructive.  This is the gift for our Phosphoric women, when they harness their fire from love, they create magic. Witches are healers - and in order to heal, we must be wounded - there's a deep gold to be found in those wounds; and, by working with spellcasting, we learn to heal ourselves, via alchemy It's not so much about the words we use in spells, as much as the deeper energetic place they come from and the emotion that charges them.  You are the creator of the spell, but you are also the spell itself; and when you wake up to that, that's the empowerment.   Spells are also a way of embodying your intention, rather than just a way to set intentions.  In casting a spell, you are opening yourself up to the divine - to spirit - but you also have to take action on the spell, otherwise nothing will manifest.   Resources and things that we spoke about:   Phyllis has a free gift for the Secret Witch listeners: A Step by Step Guide to Spellcasting Contact her at: Website:   phylliscurott.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/phylliscurott Instagram: www.instagram.com/phylliscurott/ Twitter:     https://twitter.com/phylliscurott YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/PhyllisCurottWitchcrafting   Thank you for listening, we'd love to know what comes alive for you in this week's episode, so please let us know. If you loved it, there's a fresh episode every other week - subscribe so you don't miss it! Thank you,   Nicole xox

Becoming something of value has its downside.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-Live fast, die young and leave a…No. Enjoy life and die when it is your time. Your corpse will the least of your concerns if there really is an Afterlife- (Monday)-Ah…no sex…not sure how that happened-For some God-unknown reason I was showing up to work at 6 a.m. Monday. I swear, one of these days I’m going to show up to work naked. If asked why, I’ll claim that it wasn’t in my brilliantly scripted orders. I would then beg forgiveness for ‘assuming’ I was allowed to breath, or even be conscious. We’d all laugh. Nothing would change.They were never going to give me advance warning of what my latest errand entailed. I don’t think it was in them.“You’ve made to Week Three,” Buffy sneered as we entered the garage beneath Havenstone’s skyscraper. “I’m flabbergasted.”“So am I; flabbergasted that is,” I nodded sagely. “I had no idea you knew what flabbergasted meant.”Punch. Definitely back to the old Buffy.“You need a haircut,” she commented. My phone beeped. I had data packet. I had received them before; just not from this place. I opened it up as we exited the car and made for elevators.“Holy Bat-shit Bat-Bunny!” I gasped. “Hayden’s written me a letter.”“Really?” Buffy was momentarily non-psychotic. I showed her my screen. Hayden had made an official declaration; something that would be in the records of the Amazons from now until forever.Any and all males of Havenstone; specifically one Cáel Nyilas; were to forthwith and immediately stop spiritually assassinating any and all Amazons and Amazon recruits. Furthermore, I was admonished for murdering Fabiola Dobrani and, under penalty of an unmentioned punishment, I was to publicly rejoice at her resurrection.Life was relentless. Buffy’s phone rang. She got the same message I did…as did every freaking Amazon in the building. I didn’t think the guys would be getting this memo.“I wonder how the Chicklettes are going to take this,” I mused. The doors opened before Buffy could formulate her comeback.Relentless may have not been a strong enough word. Waiting for us in two distinct groups were Constanza with two SD Playboy Bunnies; opposite them was Oneida. Oneida looked…enamored. This wasn’t curiosity about what my meat would feel like as it made her weep tears of rapture.This was a weekend binge of watching some of the best received, twenty-something, romantic movies of the past ten years. It was hard for me to decide which group was more divorced from reality; the Amazon man-haters, or the 'Hollywood was real’ babe.“I’m going to get a bite to eat,” Buffy announced. Entering the garage had completed her bodyguard duties.Oneida had the higher prestige so she came first.“Hi Cáel Nyilas,” she stepped up and greeted me. She extended her hand; for me to shake. Amazons clasped forearm to forearm. I greeted her Amazon-style.“It is good to see you again, Oneida of House Arinniti,” I replied. She looked upset.“You know who I am,” she sighed with disappointment.“Please believe me,” I stroked the side of her left cheek to the top of her ear, “had I known Friday, I would have finished up by impaled myself on your spear and cleared up a whole manner of things. Why does it matter to you that I know who you are?”“I…I didn’t want to be treated as anyone special,” she gazed up at me with innocent eyes.“That’s not going to be a problem,” I chuckled. “To me, you are nothing but another psycho-bitch that’s trying to kill me. You are a black-hearted, soulless creation of Hell and I hate your guts, Oneida.”“But you saved my life?” she whimpered. She was a bit more unbalanced than the normal babe employed here. Yay me.“And? See, this is why my description of you and your sisters is so accurate,” I smiled while I explained. “I would try to save almost anyone because it is the right thing to do. The only reason saving you was a mistake was that it caused me to fall further into Hayden’s favor. Now she’s going to expect that shit on a regular basis solely because you are of House Arinniti.”“Ah; I like you,” Oneida pleaded.“Why?” I asked.“You risked so much for Aya. You made her laugh and smile. You…you acted as if you cared for her; as if you were her own mother,” Oneida told me. “Was that a deception too?”“Hmmm…not what I expected,” I mused. “Fine, realizing that I was with Aya for her sake and hers alone raises you up a step in my estimations. I’m not being deceptive about how I feel about this place, Oneida. Here, let me prove it.” I looked to Constanza. “Constanza, do I hate your guts?”She glared at me. “Constanza, if I thought I could get away with it, would I shove a fragmentation grenade up your ass and pull the pin?” No response.“See,” I grinned to the gawking Oneida, “I’m not being deceptive about how I feel about this place. My opinion matters not at all to these women yet they know I’ll never act on my hate because of my own, perverse Code of Conduct. I’m not going to run away and I’m not going to stop being me. I’m certainly not going to fall in love with anyone here.”“Oh,” she muttered.“I have to go to work now. Have a nice day,” I turned to Constanza. “Are you my work buddy today?”“Male, come with us,” Constanza snapped. Off the four of us walked; right back to the elevator.Down we went, past any level my ID card could have accessed. Devo’s Working in the Coal Mine sprang to mind, so I hummed it. I was feeling completely at ease. Constanza stood behind me, while the other two stood at either side, but half a step back so they were right at the edge of my peripheral vision. I felt like a team player; an interregnal part of my imminent demise.The group marched past the Armory. I waved to my old friend, the Kindergarten Cop. She glowered. Amazons were not martinets. They were clean-cut and proud, but vigilance meant much more than a scuff mark on a boot, or a gaze locked on the farther wall. Our trip deposited in yet another room I could never access.I was the first one through the door. I almost froze. For starters, the room was around 15 meters wide and 6 meters deep. In the center of the room was an 8x2meter table. On the table where a wide variety of firearms and ammunition. Automatic pistols, revolvers, shotguns and submachine guns plus multiple clips, or speed-loaders for them all.They hadn’t brought me here to murder me with Death by multiple calibers. If they wanted me dead, they would have blown my brains out already then put a gun in my hand in a hopeless attempt to fool Katrina. The number of guns didn’t even impress me. The far wall was transparent and through it I could see multiple ladies in sports bras and boy shorts shooting away on a firing range.Holy Mother of God! I was here for weapons training. What the Hell had gone wrong? As I moved deeper into the room, one SD Femi-Nazi moved down the left wall, the other moved down the right and Constanza remained two steps behind me.“Please clarify my task for this time period, Constanza?” I requested. The look she shot me was lethal.“The weapons present are ones you have stated you have a familiarity with as well as others in common usage here at Havenstone. All the rounds are hollow points, or slugs. Chose which weapons you wish to qualify in, load your clips and inform me when you have completed this part of the assignment.”“Thank you,” I nodded then set to the task at hand. Constanza clearly had expected me to be a smart ass. I had used learning about guns to get tail. That didn’t mean I disrespected the weapons. I picked up several side arms, testing their weight and grips before deciding on the .40 Smith & Wesson Glock-22.I felt the ammo, making sure I wouldn’t be running around with blanks this time. This shit was real. Elsa had claimed she’d rather be skinned alive than let any man bear weapons in her Havenstone. Maybe I shouldn’t have felt her up, or given that massage to that med tech, or stripped in the elevator. I was a really, truly naughty boy.Most women spank naughty boys. My tormentors tend to fuck with my mind because, ya know, it’s harder to defend against that crap. Also, there is not a hand lotion made that will soothe the ravaged psyche. I began loading the clips.“Is that the only one you are taking?” Constanza eventually broke down and asked.“I don’t want to waste your time,” I replied. “This is my favorite pistol. I’ve shot .22, .38, 9 mm, and .45, but I’m most comfortable with this one. Maybe later I can work with the shotguns. I haven’t a clue how to handle anything else.” I could see it in her eyes; 'damn him; he’s making sense.’There was one final way I could fuck up. I didn’t. I knew firearms etiquette. Don’t load your gun before taking your station at the range. Sure, all the crazy chicks could do it, but that was part of their jobs; killing things. I was a novice. I picked out some ear protection and an adequate hip holster in case Constanza wanted me to fire from the draw.I was clearly not making her day by not screwing up.“This way,” she barked. She accessed the door leading to the range and out we stepped. All around, the firing slowly died. For each of the women, there was a second of disbelief followed by several more seconds of outrage.Lust was where the emotional landslide ended. I was 'That’ guy. I wasn’t something they could codify. I made meaningful, defiant eye contact, I dressed to impress, and I was known to be courageous. Having Hayden decide that she wanted to mate with me didn’t hurt my appeal one bit. I could already tell they were figuring out where to shoot me so that I could still have sex an hour later.I was a man in Havenstone with a gun after all. I was the equivalent of the Pope in Mecca; it just didn’t happen. My booth was nice and comfy. After placing my gear on the table,“What do I do next?”“Ear guards; check weapon; load, chamber, announce your preparation to fire; fire as quickly and accurately as possible. Reload and fire until you have uses all rounds,” she commanded.Hmm…six meters. Standard human-scored target. I hadn’t done this in a year. I shook my limbs out to get ready for the shock and recoil then steadied my breathing. Fifteen rounds, starting at the ready stance.“Ready,” I pronounced.“Begin,” was Constanza’s muffled command. The report of the first shot, the sting of the recoil, the pull on the arm and the shell ejecting; all of those rolled over me before I could count. I almost missed the automatic slide staying open. Down went the old magazine even as my left hand retrieved and leveraged the next one in.A problem presented itself. The girl who first taught me was pretty good; in the 'if you couldn’t find the prerequisite number of bullet holes in the target, everyone assumed the missing bullet had passed through one of the previous penetrations’ kind of way. I was pretty lucky. She took a red hot poker to me and was thankfully far less accurate.She was so incredibly beautiful; so furious with me, naked and chasing me around a cabin lit solely by the fireplace, with that firebrand in her hand. Maybe it was wrong of me to take her English professor up to the girl’s cabin for a sexual rendezvous; or stick the professor in the closet when the poor lady absolutely had go to the bathroom. Or fucked the girl on her bear skin rug until the professor had to come out of said closet before she urinated. I know; I’m an idiot.Fifteen bullets into the first target had made a mess of it. Since there was no one in either station around me, I started shooting at the target to the left. I put the last magazine into the one on the right. It took me well over thirty seconds to get all 45 shots off, but I did it.“Done,” I stated as I put the gun down and took a half-step back.“Do you shoot pistols a lot?” one of my other guards asked in amazement. They had undoubtedly seen better speed and marksmanship. It was their cosmically low opinion of me that made my effort so impossible to believe.“No, I’m a Natural Born Killer,” I grinned at the three of them.“Males are arrogant and take things for granted. They are sloppy,” Constanza sneered.“It never fails to surprise me that you don’t accept that your ancestors were some of the toughest bitches to ever walk the planet,” I muttered.“What does that mean?” Constanza growled.“Warriors so tough they are remembered thousands of years later and your founders escaped with their lives; as opposed to all those Trojans, Hittites and Lydians who ended up decorating graves with their bones,” I glared back. “What I mean is; why does me having a weapon really bother you? I’m am totally out-numbered, out-classed and out-gunned.”“I don’t want to die. I’m definitely not suicidal. I’ll even take bullets, arrows and blades for you people,” I snarled. “Quite frankly, all of this paranoia is really starting to get on my nerves, so fucking Cut it out!”“You do not tell us what to do,” Constanza ground out. She’d grabbed my chin with one hand.“I’ll keep that in mind next time an Amazon’s life is in danger and a simply warning from me could save their life. Be assured I’ll put your directive down for the reason they croaked,” I countered.“If it was up to me, you would be killed for your insolence,” she growled.“Does it ever occur to you it is the other way around?” I touched her wrist.“What?” Constanza was both irate and uncertain.“You are where you are because you have a habit of making poor decision on a strategic level,” I explained. Apparently I wanted to die.“Why does anyone like you?” Constanza muttered.“Like me? Most people who know me, hate me; like you. The difference is they get to know me first then they hate me. You haven’t gotten the full Cáel experience yet. You hate me on a purely generic level. Real hate comes from knowing me,” I grinned.Like so much that comes from my lips, that was a lie. To be truthful, most of the women I had wronged over the past four years forgave me; eventually. Most of them figured out that I hadn’t cheated on them; I cheated on EVERY girl I was with, but one; my mentor. She was the one who tossed me out among the female population in the first place.Some ladies did hold a grudge. There is one chick who burns me in effigy every year on the date of our break up. I should have known better. It was my freshman year and she was a Psychology teaching assistant. Most psych majors are wacko; more wacko than most pissed of women, I have learned from experience. I’ll still date them. I also take more care about what I eat and drink around them too.“I’m glad to know you will be gone soon,” she seethed then removed her hand from my chin.“Constanza, you really need to stop trusting me so much,” I chuckled.“I don’t trust you at all,” she countered.“But you are taking my word for it that women hate me,” I snickered.“More importantly, you are ignoring the facts. The majority of the women at Havenstone who like me, do so for reasons totally devoid of any intimacy. We both know I can be a jerk. I’m being a jerk right now; to you. What separates us is that I have no doubt that if you were in danger, I would come to your aid. That is the kind of person I am,” I related calmly.“That would never happen,” Constanza insisted.“I don’t care what you think,” I shot back. “I don’t make decisions based on your whimsy. I follow my leadership. I know I’m loyal. Now, can we please get back to the reason we are all here?”The scoring indicated that I was so lucky that girl came at me with the poker. I missed six shots out of 45, which I thought was awesome. I even managed to badly tear up the chests of the front and left targets. The target on the right was still 'dead’, but he could be buried in a tuxedo. I had one head shot; it wasn’t on purpose.We went back to the gun room, reloaded my Glock, a .38 Colt and a Mossberg shotgun. One guard went with me while Constanza and the second guard scored my first round. Back in the firing lane, I lost all firearms ability what so ever. I was saved by three shooters who volunteered to help. See how easy that was? They helped me with my stances, reload techniques and argued the merits of hip holster, ankle holsters and shoulder holsters.To reciprocate their hospitality, I stripped off my annoying jacket, tie, shirt and undershirt. We got into a discussion of spent rounds bouncing around and maybe scaring the shooter. For the Amazons, it was training to ignore painful distractions. I stopped; leveled by an epic brainstorm; and fired off an order to Executive Services; care of Daphne.“What are you doing?” one of the new lethality-engines asked, somewhat piqued.“Oh, I have to celebrate Fabiola’s resurrection; Hayden’s orders; and that is going to require supernatural aids,” I replied. I was back on track in their eyes.“What was it like to feel the strength of the Ancestors flow through you?” the second one whispered. This Ancestors and Goddess crap; mysticism was real to them. I’ve never claimed to be a deity though I’ve insinuated that I was the blood descendant of the Goddess Ishtar; reference the Wiccan Priestess; and her circle of naked female celebrants.The answer, not a total lie, was pure Amazon.“I didn’t feel anything,” I could sense their disappointment. “You know, all I felt was the spear and nothing else. Absolutely nothing else mattered. All other burdens and pains were lifted from me so I could devote myself entirely to the task at hand; hold the spear aloft.”They ate it up because the 'stillness’ was at their core of martial mystique. Bushido had it too except they called it 'No Mind’, or something like that. To be honest, I had come by that state of being through sex. My focus narrowed down to my partner and all of her actions and reactions. For a lowly male, like me, to possess that quality must have been divine intervention.“You did a wonderful thing; channeling the Ancestors that way,” the third stated. “Oneida is precious to the Host.”“I beg to differ,” I regarded her with a quirky smirk. “Every life is precious. When you start weighing a person’s life before you chose to save it, you have lost much more than that split second; you have lost a piece of your soul.”Oh look. I was lecturing them and they didn’t like it.“Try looking at it from my viewpoint for a second,” I knew they couldn’t. “I’m a lowly male caught up in your fiendish experiment. I don’t know who any of you are beyond the reality that you would casually harm, or even kill me for any number of reasons.”“You clearly think I should cower and cow-tow to your whims and wishes,” I took in their negative reactions. “I’m not. That’s not me. Instead, I’m going to run errands, learn to fight, laugh, play and have a great time. If it matters; I know it doesn’t to you; I am Cáel Nyilas, son of Ferko, son of Árpád of the Magyar. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope’,” I added.That wasn’t my family motto. We were from poor, immigrant stock. My grandparents spoke Hungarian. I knew a little of it, just not enough to be considered fluent. I knew some Vlach (Romanian) too. When your neighbors are screaming insults at you, it pays to know exactly what they are saying. Again, I’m not fluent in Vlach, but I could get in a bar fight over what I did know.“Your lineage is inconsequential,” Constanza snapped. She’d come back; yippee!“How did I do, Jefe?” I beamed happiness her way.“I hate you,” she said through clenched teeth. I must have done better than I thought.“Well, that’s good. Maybe, under your instruction, I’ll almost be a match for the other fine ladies down here one day in the distant future,” I nodded happily.“That your heart still beats is an insult to everything I stand for,” Constanza spat.“I’m cool with that in the same way I’m cool ignoring this whole 'blood prestige’ thing. You gals aren’t respecting mine and you certainly aren’t explaining your rules to me, so I’m opting out of this whole 'my old lady was better at dodging arrows than yours’.”“You should not insult us this way,” my closet, newest gun-buddy cautioned me.“I agree. Do you even know who the Magyar are?” I inquired.“No,” she shrugged.“Go find out and then we can talk,” I grinned. “Until then, you are disrespecting the aim of a sniper you don’t even know exists yet is stalking you.”As they were struggling to figure that out, I groaned.“You are insulting my people without knowledge of who they are. You are asking me to show respect to your people without explaining to me why. I’m sure they were wonderful, fucking women, but I don’t know anything about them,” I related.“If you want blind obedience, go have fun with sterility,” I smirked. “I’ve got better and more far-sighted women I’d rather be with.”“Most likely you will be milked of your seed, joined with our eggs thus creating the next generation of the host,” the third girl got all riled-up. Sex.“Man,” I laughed. “Am I the only one here to have figured out that I, and the other new male hires, aren’t the only ones being tested? Really? Come on. If Katrina wanted to train me to use a gun, she could have sent me with Desiree to a private gun range and handled this stuff off-site. No. She had to put me here; with all of you.”All those smug, superior, horny chicks just realized they’d taken a philosophical snap-kick to the cranium. Tested? Amazons were tested all the fucking time. It was their culture to keep them fit, firm and alert. Best of all, the male had to be the one to bring this to their attention. I wrapped my arm around the waist of the closest Amazon and pulled her groin to my hip.“That’s okay though. I’m in this for all of you,” I murmured while looking deep into her eyes; as if we were the only two people in the world. “With your aid, I think we can do this; make it work. Don’t you?” She nodded. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Shotguns, pistol-grip shotguns and an MP-5 joined my list of weapons I knew the basics of afterwards.Once more, I was rendered even more attractive by the fact that I could hit a man-sized target at 6 meters with a gun I had only then picked up. I had been joking about the whole 'natural born killer’ comeback. I wasn’t convinced that my ancestor’s ability to fight all their neighbors, sometimes all at the same time, made me kick-ass.Frankly, my people had lost wars to every European empire of the middle ages and modern times. You just couldn’t keep us down. Maybe resistance was genetically based. That was crazy talk…but Grandpa was a tough SOB, as was my Dad, now that I thought about it. Gramps Old Man died fighting the Russians in world war two, which was why he fled his homeland as a child.Mom’s people; they were Irish; the Irish, when not fighting for their own homeland, were fighting for some else’s. Mom didn’t get the time to teach me much, but I do recall this:The greatest lie the Irish ever tell is that they only hate the English. The Irish hate anyone they can get their hands on, even other Irish. If you don’t believe that, look at every ethnic neighborhood in the US that border an Irish enclave. They fight with them all.I got my twisted sense of humor from my Mom. I miss her so. Knowing Mom, she wouldn’t be ashamed of my infidelities. She’d probably say 'he’s test-driving until he finds the one that can keep him in line’. I hoped she wouldn’t be ashamed of me. My time was up. I had to go to Katrina’s office. Constanza banished me with a grumpy face and a dismissive wave of the hand.The chick I had put on my hip volunteered/elbowed her way to showing me out. My ID card wouldn’t open any stairwell, or elevator. She felt comfortable walking around in her underwear, plus a shoulder holstered 10 mm. Ten steps out, from her left, I snaked my hand around her back to her right hip. She looked to me and smiled.“Can you give me some advice?” I inquired.“I’ll try,” she hedged.“Well, you are clearly in excellent physical condition. I’ve been trying to put together a regimen that will get my left thigh in shape,” I started. She nodded.“I’ve a quadriceps exercise in mind, but I’m unsure about one for the gluts,” I mused. She looked uncertain. I moved my hand off her hip, over to her left hand then placed her hand force on my left buttock. We were now really close. “I’m afraid of losing my muscle tone. Can you help?”“Umm…” she hesitated. “I could think of a few things.” She worked herself up to giving my ass a good squeeze. This was not the first male butt she’d handled yet it was most likely the firmest and most sexually promising one she’d felt. Promising something she couldn’t quite envision but felt deep within her loins.She dispensed advice. I nodded appreciatively. When I asked for some kind of confirmation, she kindly put my hand on her ass which I promptly began squeezing. Like shooting fish in a barrel. We were comparing stomach and shoulder techniques on the elevator. Her name was Naomi and she was with the Security Detail and a member of House Rajah; ally of House Arinniti. Sweet!Like clockwork, Brielle and her buddy joined me in the elevator on the ground floor. They had to know somebody to track me this well. Me shirtless with an Amazon in her undies. It must be Monday morning.“This is new,” Brielle commented. “Good morning, Naomi. Forget something?”“I’m on the job,” Naomi retorted. It was the whole 'going without clothes’ thing.“Are you protecting a bare-chested Cáel from us, or us from a bare-chested Cáel?” her companion joked. Naomi’s mouth opened then shut.“I cannot talk about it. Neither one of us can,” Naomi declared with authority.“That’s right, Ladies,” I nodded. “What happens in the laundry room, stays in the laundry room.” All those who felt I’d gone to the laundry room, raise your hands. No takers.“I smell gunpowder residue,” Brielle commented after she took a close whiff.“The Dominicans, Latin Kings, and the Redneck Posse have all started fighting over that little block of paradise I call home,” I sighed regretfully. Silence.“Redneck Posse? That’s not one I’ve heard of before,” Naomi commented. Here we go!“Oh yeah,” I looked contemplative. “Ten years ago, several linguists studying Appalachian dialects paid for some native speakers to come to the city to help in their research. The hillbillies got paid, got jobs and brought their families down.”“When the grant money for the study ran out, the bumpkins had to find another way to support their kin that their minimum wage jobs couldn’t providing. Enter the Redneck Posse. Guns, meth, moonshine; they do it all. They are kind of like Afghan tribesmen except instead of being half a world away by sea, or air, they are a four, or five, hour drive down the interstate,” I concluded.The three women exchanged confused looks. The doors opened on my floor.“Oh my Goddess!” Brielle exclaimed. “That’s almost possible to believe.” I winked and left.“You mean that was a lie too?” Naomi gasped. The doors shut on that conversation as I swept through the office.I had 90 seconds to spare. Only Dora wasn’t here yet, but there was a pile of boxes on my desk. They were all looking at me as if I’d just stepped out of a pool, or a French cologne commercial. I set my clothing and valise on my tiny, now over-stacked, desk then joined the line-up.“Good morning Cáel,” Katrina looked me up and down.“I certainly hope it will be. Good morning to you too, Katrina,” I beamed. Pause.“Forgetting something?” Katrina prodded. I sniffed the air. I didn’t sense it.“Yes Ma'am, Katrina. I’m missing one thing. I hope it gets here soon,” I confirmed. Pause.“Very well, let’s get started,” Katrina began. Fabiola lost it.“What! He doesn’t have a shirt, tie, or jacket on. As far as we know, he’s not even wearing underwear,” she screeched.“Cáel, is your attire, or lack thereof, necessary for the performance of your duties?” Katrina politely inquired.“Yes it is Katrina,” I nodded.“Very well…” Katrina started over.“What possible reason could you have for being half dressed,” Fabiola ranted. “Are you going to cover yourself with oil and slither down the stairs like the snake you are?”No one said anything for a while. The rest of the 'new hires’ were coming around to the fact that Katrina and I were mocking Fabiola. Otherwise, Katrina would have shut her down. I held up my hand.“Yes Cáel,” Katrina acknowledged me, “despite the meeting having already begun and not being directly addressed by me, you may speak.” Slap!“Fabiola, I find your desire to see me oiled up a bit perplexing,” I grinned in her direction. “I would like to point out, despite the evidence you have presented today, I am not an idiot and our boss; Katrina; is not a fool. Hate me to your heart’s content, but don’t insult Katrina by thinking she doesn’t already know what I’m up to.”“She does not explain herself to me, or you, and I’m pretty sure even Hayden gets an edited view of what goes on here in Executive Services. I don’t know and I don’t care. That’s not in my job description and I’m already way out of bounds as it is,” I said. “For your sake and your sake alone, I will tell you why I’m am dressed the way I am today.”“It is part of your ritual apology,” Violet blurted. “It’s obvious. This has to do with what Hayden told him to do.” That wasn’t truly fair to Fabiola. The rest of the ladies had been rushing around getting the items I decided I needed for my public apology. Dora came bolting in right then.“I’m sorry I’m late, Katrina,” she panted. “Did I miss anything?”“No,” Katrina returned events to their proper order. “First off, for today, I’ll start with Cáel’s work review for Friday. I never thought I would say this about his on-the-clock performance. Cáel, your work output on Friday was stellar. There, I said it. Next…”That would have been a far greater treasure had that been my work report instead of Aya’s. Everyone else did well, save Tigger. She had forgotten a security sequence and had half a floor locked down for 15 minutes. At the conclusion, Buffy came in, slammed a flimsy, but aromatic, box into my chest then stormed away.“Cáel?” Katrina questioned.“Yes. Thank you,” I then turned to Fabiola. “Do you wish to have the ceremony here, or out on the main floor of Executive Services?”“I; what are you going to do?” Fabiola grew suspicious. “This is a trick to make me look foolish again.”“Fabiola, it is Hayden’s wish you hear him out,” Paula spoke. “He’s troublesome, not stupid. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to defy Hayden on this.”“Swear to me you are not going to make me look bad,” Fabiola stared at me.“What do I possess that you believe is valuable?” I countered. She had to think about that.It couldn’t be Aya. Fabiola was stumped. She had been so busy looking down her fine Roman nose at me, she had neglected to notice everything I had done and said.“Your mentor,” Daphne offered.“She has forbidden me to see her again, but thank you,” I winked at Daphne.A quick list of less than helpful suggestions followed. It turned out the only thing I valued was my freedom and I couldn’t give that up to Fabiola because that decision lay with Katrina. I would rather defy Hayden than give up sex, I lied continuously for little, or no reason. Fabiola wasn’t looking for Lent, she wanted something concrete. It simply didn’t exist.Out we went with a very distraught Fabiola and me with a bunch of small boxes. I didn’t worry about expensing all this crap. I wasn’t spending my own money anyway. I had Fabiola stand in the largest open area ES had. Even people who only had business on this floor were joining the growing body of my co-workers here to witness the spectacle.Three small brass bowels and one small oil lamp went to the four compass points; I even had a compass. I put sand in one, water in another and dry ice in the third. I lit the lamp.“This symbols me calling the four corners of Terra to bear witness: Earth, Air, Fire and Water,” I explained. Next I wrote down Fabiola’s name on a slip of paper in Old Kingdom Hittite.I burned it. Fabiola frowned. She was the only one. I dropped the ashes into a glass of water.“With this, I take back my curse. I swallow it, thus swallowing my words,” I explained to Fabiola. I drank the whole thing. That accomplished, I pulled a small silver owl out of an unopened box to a series of murmurs. “This is a gift to your house. Minerva (the Roman Athena) is your patron Goddess. I do honor to her for bringing you back.” I handed her the owl.Her expression told me she was still waiting for the trap to be sprung on her. I wrote out my name, in Magyar then held it up to Fabiola.“This is my name, Cáel Nyilas, in my native tongue,” I told her. I burned it, ground up the ashes with my fingers. With a little bit of coordinated effort, I drew the word 'forgiveness’ in Old Kingdom Hittite over my heart.The last box. It was Dobos Tortas, a sweet treat from my native land; Hungary, not Chicago.“Please accept this gift as a symbol of my apology and my desire to seek your forgiveness,” I looked into Fabiola’s eyes. The weight came crushing down on her. Virtually all the women around her wanted me to be forgiven.Not because they hated her. Most barely knew her; or me. It was the ceremony. Simple, relatively quick yet individualized by the giving of gifts designed for each participant. Deep in her twisted little soul, Fabiola still expected a trap, trick, or joke at her expense. She probably thought the 'cookies’ were poisoned.“I forgive you,” Fabiola stated. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Share a treat with me.” I even let her pick out the one to stick in my mouth. Maybe she thought I had the antidote, or maybe she decided I was on the up-and-up. The crowd of Amazons made happy, communal noises and we all parted as friends…okay, friends and their dancing bear; me.Katrina snuck up on me as a handful of woman thanked me for the insightful ceremony. I told them they were welcome while neglecting to inform them that I made all of that up. Part of it was Wiccan. Part was some 1960’s Italian movie I’d seen. A few things I pulled out of my ass, like normal.“Put on your clothes,” Katrina handed me my things. “You did well. I am sure Hayden will be equally pleased.”“No problem,” I looked at her appreciatively. I felt a cerebral connection evolving between us.“Put on your shirt before I start licking your nipples,” Katrina demanded. Damn it.Wait, things got better. As I looked away from Katrina and started getting dressed, Buffy appeared before me. I bet I could have melted an ice cap with the head of steam she’d built up.“Do you like dressing as a male stripper? Do you like women drooling all over you?” Buffy sizzled.“No; yes,” I responded.“I hate you,” she snapped.“I admire the fact that you can pull off the lead in Madame Butterfly,” I bantered back.“Let’s get to work,” Buffy growled. Off we went.(Elsa Round Three)“Hello Stanica,” Buffy greeted the SD guard at the gym facility door. That was new. Normally it was a card-swipe and in you went. Buffy and I were dressed for a workout; per orders.“Full-bloods only,” Stanica stopped Buffy. Ah, racism was raising its ugly head.“How am I supposed to get in?” I countered. This appointment was in our queue for 11 a.m.“You have been summoned,” Stanica clarified.“Cool…I’ll be back in 70 days. Good job Chuckles,” I grinned.“You have been summoned,” she threatened with a great deal more menace.“He works for me today,” Buffy yawned. “That means he goes where I go. Cáel doesn’t have a queue today, I do. He’s my intern. If you won’t let me in, then he doesn’t go in. Let’s go Cáel.”Stanica grabbed my arm.“He goes in. You stay,” she insisted.“Cáel; resist,” Buffy ordered. To Stanica, “Knock yourself out.” Stanica briefly tried to move me. Then she went for some kind of control-hold/lock. Brazilian jujitsu, Baby.It is not some kind of 'super’ martial art. As far as I knew, none of them were. If you were trying to break, or establish physical control over another person, it was pretty spectacular though. Along with the Amazon 'house’ style, she knew something akin to Krav Maga. Stanica was hampered by her unwillingness to do me serious harm, as was I toward her.The difference was, all I had to do was stay in the hallway, while Stanica had to get me through the doors. The stalemate was broken by two fresh full-bloods coming from the changing room to the facilities.“Sisters, assist me,” Stanica called out. “Help me wrestle him to the ground without undo damage.” They came forward and jumped me.“Are you on official Havenstone business?” Buffy politely inquired as they dog piled on me.“Shut up,” Stanica yelled.“Failing to adequately explain the situation,” Buffy quick drew her pistol and pressed it to the temple of one of the two new Amazons, “informs me you are willingly interfering in official Executive Services business.”“By all means, give me an excuse to file an incident report,” Buffy grinned feral.“Do it and you die, 'Lost Blood’ (Old Kingdom Hittite),” the threatened woman responded.“Boss, may I suggest an alternative?” I ground up. They had me pressed down in the hall.“I’m willing to accept you were hired for your intelligence,” Buffy allowed.“Trust me. I got this,” I snickered. Buffy didn’t trust me, yet she knew my tone well. Buffy holstered her weapon and stood back.“This isn’t over, Buffy,” the Amazon she’d pulled down on snapped.“Go for it,” Buffy chuckled. “You are running off with Katrina’s male. I was trying to assert her rights and you have defied her. I gleefully await her judgment.”The woman snarled then grunted as my three captures pulled me up. Buffy was on her phone, typing away a text when the women realized my feet weren’t planted under me. I started to topple over.“Stand up, damn you,” Stanica demanded. I looked to Buffy for confirmation of that order. She smiled while indicating nothing.“Stand up,” the third Amazon insisted. She backed that up with a jab to my left kidney. Damn, this place was hellishly unlucky for the left side of my body. That did not encourage me to stand.“Fine, we’ll drag him in,” Stanica changed up. I didn’t resist one bit. I acted like dead weight.This scene was made all the more precious by the audience Elsa had gathered for whatever exhibition she had planned for me. The whole sparring area was surrounded by Amazons clearly waiting on me. Most were cross-legged though a few knelt behind the first rank. I could see Elsa, spear in hand, watching those three lugging me in from her position in the Southwest corner of the mats.“What’s wrong with him?” Elsa inquired calmly.“He is afraid,” Stanica answered. I would have replied, but I knew silence would be far more cutting. See; everyone expect me to have a comeback. My quiet unsettled them. The three unceremoniously dumped me next to the Northeast corner. I lay there.I had noticed two axes about a meter in on the mat. I pulled myself into a position where my butt was resting on my heels.“My Sisters,” Elsa began. “There has been some interest in Cáel’s two-axe style as well as various theories on how to defeat it. Today, I will display the long spear technique’s ability to overcome this problem.”“Cáel, pick up the axes and prepare yourself. I will wait until you indicate your readiness,” Elsa nodded my way. Very friendly. I looked around a bit, rather bored. “Cáel?” she repeated. I looked at Elsa.“Oh, were you under some delusion that you could tell me what to do, Elsa?” I replied. There was a hush for so many reasons. Elsa being denied, a man denying anything to any of them, and my cavalier, even dismissive attitude toward the Full-blooded assembly.“Under what delusion do you think you can safely defy me?” Elsa smiled shark-like.“Hmmm,” I mused, “let me think. You are not Hayden, Katrina, or Buffy; my chain of command. You are not Aya, who I love. You are not acting in my best interest as it relates to Havenstone. Yeah, that should about cover it.”“I am a woman of Havenstone and I am giving you, a male, an order. There is no acceptable reason to disobey,” Elsa countered.“You are incorrect,” I began. The ladies around me didn’t like that. “I cannot betray my Amazons. You do not possess the power to force me to disappoint them.”“Your Amazons?” A chocolate Amazon with a shaved pate jumped up. “We are not 'yours’, filth.”“Were you born stupid, or has education made you that way?” I spat back. An ass-whooping was in the offing.“If you came at Hayden, or Katrina, do you think I’d sit idly by and let them fight alone?” I kept at it, though I remained kneeling. “If you threaten any member of Executive Services, or House Epona, make peace with your Ancestors because I will fight, bleed and die for MY Amazons. I’ve already proved that oath. Your opinion on the matter is less than rat-piss to me.”I’m sure arrogance has a use. I haven’t found one yet, but I don’t ignore the possibility. Chocolate chick grabbed for my hair, ready to slit my throat the moment she tilted my head back. This would have been appropriate if I was one of their old male population. Only total arrogance had kept her from actually listening to the words of defiance coming out of my mouth.I caught her hand, flipped her over and drove the top of her skull into the mat. That shoots a numbing jolt right up the spine, I can tell you from experience. I snatched the knife from her helpless fingers as she finished flipping over, her head closest to me then pressed the blade to her jugular.“Not a single person in this room matters to me. The only person that should matter to you, is me,” I stated calmly and quietly. “That being the case, chose your next words carefully and with due consideration of everything I’ve said before this moment.” I was going to die if I killed her. That wouldn’t save her life from her own, small, razor-sharp blade.Almost a minute passed.“Cáel, give me my blade,” she replied in a rather brave voice. I pulled my hand up, spun the blade around and pressed it into her palm. She slowly sat up and swiveled around until we were face to face, her cross-legged and me, back to my kneeling pose. Her eyes were ice cold.“I was never in any danger, was I?” the woman half-asked, half stated.“Of course not. I would never shame Katrina that way. I’d kill for her. Killing an Amazon to save my own life would not be something she’d allow,” I explained as much to the room as the woman.“Don’t lie,” another Amazon teased me; thankfully. It was Traska Maza; from the Medical Center. “I heard you murdered an Amazon on Friday; end of business.”“Yep,” I confessed. “Hayden has admonished me from repeating that method of assassination. I swear that if Fabiola keeps calling 'Runners’ 'Lost Bloods’, I’m going to figure out another way to get her.”“The term 'Lost Blood’ is the term we use. Accept it, Male,” Stanica growled. I had to think about that. I stood up, so I had a good view of the SD bitch. I also had to work up the proper insult. Anything I directed at Stanica would be useless. I knew their weakness though.“Hey,” I addressed my African opponent.“Stanica’s mother mated with her own paternal male to give birth to Stanica. I read it in an inner-office e-mail.” Total lie, but the 'lie’ wasn’t mine. It was from an unnamed Amazon and it insulted her bloodline, something she truly valued. I glared at Stanica. “That is why it is insulting. In a blood-conscious culture, you are rubbing their noses in a fact beyond their control.”“I agree,” Oneida spoke up. “'Lost Bloods’ is insulting. I had never questioned that before. 'Runners is a better term. I will ask my house to use it from now on.”“That’s not going to save him,” Stanica seethed.“Do you want to know where the memo came from?” I inquired of Stanica.“There is no memo,” Stanica snapped. I shrugged.“Why would I make it up? Such a deadly insult?” I pressed the point. Oh, I had made it up because I hate bigotry, especially when it is aimed at someone who was almost a friend.“Who?” she glared.“I don’t know, but I know who does,” I offered. “She’s right outside that door,” I pointed to the main entrance. Now, do people recall that divide I was talking about way back in Chapter Two? It worked both ways. Full-bloods were aware of the oppression they exerted on their 'Lost Blood/Runner’ sisters. Creeping around in the back of some of their minds was the worry that those newcomers resented their superiors.Had the two groups been truly united, Stanica wouldn’t have given my bluff a second glance. Here was the backlash of being a bigot; the idea that those you hated, hating you right back. In short order, Buffy was by my side and listening to Stanica’s grievance. Finally we were speaking English again.“Man, Desiree is going to be so sorry she missed this,” Buffy looked down at me.I was kneeling again so she was able to appear lofty and run her hand through my hair the way she liked to do when she was extra horny for me. I also liked the way her boobs nearly obscured her face from my view. Very nice tits.“Stanica, he lied to you,” Buffy revealed.“I knew it! Stand aside, I’m going to gut the little shit,” Stanica started to come at me.“No you don’t,” Buffy interposed herself. “See, Cáel was following his instructions and he used your idiocy against you, Dumbass,” she gloated to Stanica. “He was ordered to serve at my side today, so that is what he did. Who in the right mind would commit anything about blood prestige to an office e-mail anyway? It wasn’t even up to his normally superb level of deception.”“Then he should be punished for lying to me,” Stanica seethed.“I told him to,” Buffy wasn’t even lying. She’d approved my plan the moment she agreed to 'trust me’.“When?” Elsa requested. She was coming our way. Buffy looked over her shoulder.“Funny, you don’t look like Katrina, Elsa,” Buffy guffawed. “Make an official request through the proper channels. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”“Do we need to clarify our positions?” Elsa menaced. I jumped up and took up a boxing stance. With Stanica on one side, Elsa on the other and the preference of Amazons to gang up on opponents, I had to have her back.“Kneel,” Buffy tapped my shoulder. I knelt. “Honestly Elsa, Cáel fucked me so hard and long this weekend that even your pettiness doesn’t annoy me today. Now, why are we here?”“He’s not allowed to have sex,” Traska seemed a bit distressed. Me having sex outside the office had never occurred to her apparently.“Strangely, I have all of you to thank for that,” Buffy smugly regarded the room. “While you let Constanza and Crewe ambush him then sat back uselessly while he kicked both their asses, gazed on as he refused to take advantage of Constanza once she was clearly incapable of resisting and let her put a blade to his throat, he found a way to legally sleep with me.”“Afraid? With a blade to his throat, he couldn’t care less about any of you,” Buffy regaled them. “Oh, we know you don’t care what he thinks; or what I think. Well, welcome to the world you’ve created. I don’t care what you think. Blood Prestige? I’ll only give as much respect as I’m given. I am embarrassed I ever thought any of you were better than me.”“My prestige is that I volunteered for this lifestyle. I made a choice that no one else in this room ever had the courage to make; to abandon my old life for another, unknown one. From here on out, I’m going to be like Cáel. One of you bitches puts a hand on me, be ready to back it up,” Buffy challenged them. Not the best move as far as I could tell.“Be prepared to be put in your place,” Elsa grinned.“Go right ahead. Don’t get too worked up. There are around a hundred of my fellow; 'Runners’ at the door,” Buffy smirked.“It is best to end this rebellion right now,” the chocolate opponent stood up.“Over what?” I looked up. I hated Buffy making me kneel. “The 'Runners’ are doing the exact same tasks you are doing. They want to be awarded respect for that.”“This is not your place,” the woman stated to me. As an afterthought. “Ngozi.”“Thank you,” I acknowledged her consideration of giving me her name.“Ha,” Buffy snorted. “Oh…rebellion? Let’s just say when we realized that (dead word) meant Lost Bloods, we were; unhappy. All this weekend, this petty insult had been spreading out to all our non-Full-blood sisters. Actually, we have come up with two alternatives. One was to approach Hayden with our grievance.”“The other was to start calling the rest of you (dead word) (which meant 'Poison Bloods’),” Buffy stared down the festering crowd. “After all, we are all fertile and the few children we have been allowed to have are born without defect.” Amazons don’t threaten often. Normally they simply go straight to the punishment. I was somewhat of an exception for reasons that somehow alluded me.I tried to stand again, but Buffy pushed me back down. Pain was imminent then the muttering began. Around us, small clumps of Full-bloods began pushing for space. That could only mean they were getting ready to fight and since they weren’t close to us, they were getting ready to fight their own sisters.I doubted they were enamored with me, or the 'Runner’ cause. This was a common sense reaction. They recognized a no-win contest when they saw it. 'Runners’ were demanding respect; same recognition for taking the same risks. They weren’t even asking for admission into the 'Host’; the true Amazons and their House structure.The tipping points in this protest had been Fabiola and the loyalist opposition led by Helena, the only 'Runner’ close enough to my struggle Friday afternoon that could have started it. Remember, the Old Kingdom Hittite language was a closely guarded secret. So secret that Buffy, despite her years of loyal service, hadn’t been taught it.There had been decades of small slights that led to this. It wasn’t me, except for the definition thing. Fabiola was hardly an aberration. The other female 'new hires’ were more the exception than the rule. That was probably why Katrina had chosen them. In her profession; internal and external security; creative thinking and flexibility were as important as blood lines.“Excuse me,” a soft voice penetrated the chaos. The noise died down. Tessa Carmichael moved through the crowd to the mat. “Oh, by the Seven Sister Goddesses, of course Cáel Nyilas is here.” Then, in English, “Buffy, pardon me but I think this needs my attention.” See, a good ass-reaming is done in a target’s native language. Tessa went back to Old Kingdom Hittite.“Why are there a 150 sisters outside in the hall milling around?” Tessa began. She held up her hand to truncate the various responses. “Why does it look like you are all preparing for a general melee? Lastly, why are Buffy and Cáel even here? You would think that after his last episod

Becoming something of value has its downside.By FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the podcast at Steamy Stories.-Live fast, die young and leave a…No. Enjoy life and die when it is your time. Your corpse will the least of your concerns if there really is an Afterlife- (Monday)-Ah…no sex…not sure how that happened-For some God-unknown reason I was showing up to work at 6 a.m. Monday. I swear, one of these days I’m going to show up to work naked. If asked why, I’ll claim that it wasn’t in my brilliantly scripted orders. I would then beg forgiveness for ‘assuming’ I was allowed to breath, or even be conscious. We’d all laugh. Nothing would change.They were never going to give me advance warning of what my latest errand entailed. I don’t think it was in them.“You’ve made to Week Three,” Buffy sneered as we entered the garage beneath Havenstone’s skyscraper. “I’m flabbergasted.”“So am I; flabbergasted that is,” I nodded sagely. “I had no idea you knew what flabbergasted meant.”Punch. Definitely back to the old Buffy.“You need a haircut,” she commented. My phone beeped. I had data packet. I had received them before; just not from this place. I opened it up as we exited the car and made for elevators.“Holy Bat-shit Bat-Bunny!” I gasped. “Hayden’s written me a letter.”“Really?” Buffy was momentarily non-psychotic. I showed her my screen. Hayden had made an official declaration; something that would be in the records of the Amazons from now until forever.Any and all males of Havenstone; specifically one Cáel Nyilas; were to forthwith and immediately stop spiritually assassinating any and all Amazons and Amazon recruits. Furthermore, I was admonished for murdering Fabiola Dobrani and, under penalty of an unmentioned punishment, I was to publicly rejoice at her resurrection.Life was relentless. Buffy’s phone rang. She got the same message I did…as did every freaking Amazon in the building. I didn’t think the guys would be getting this memo.“I wonder how the Chicklettes are going to take this,” I mused. The doors opened before Buffy could formulate her comeback.Relentless may have not been a strong enough word. Waiting for us in two distinct groups were Constanza with two SD Playboy Bunnies; opposite them was Oneida. Oneida looked…enamored. This wasn’t curiosity about what my meat would feel like as it made her weep tears of rapture.This was a weekend binge of watching some of the best received, twenty-something, romantic movies of the past ten years. It was hard for me to decide which group was more divorced from reality; the Amazon man-haters, or the 'Hollywood was real’ babe.“I’m going to get a bite to eat,” Buffy announced. Entering the garage had completed her bodyguard duties.Oneida had the higher prestige so she came first.“Hi Cáel Nyilas,” she stepped up and greeted me. She extended her hand; for me to shake. Amazons clasped forearm to forearm. I greeted her Amazon-style.“It is good to see you again, Oneida of House Arinniti,” I replied. She looked upset.“You know who I am,” she sighed with disappointment.“Please believe me,” I stroked the side of her left cheek to the top of her ear, “had I known Friday, I would have finished up by impaled myself on your spear and cleared up a whole manner of things. Why does it matter to you that I know who you are?”“I…I didn’t want to be treated as anyone special,” she gazed up at me with innocent eyes.“That’s not going to be a problem,” I chuckled. “To me, you are nothing but another psycho-bitch that’s trying to kill me. You are a black-hearted, soulless creation of Hell and I hate your guts, Oneida.”“But you saved my life?” she whimpered. She was a bit more unbalanced than the normal babe employed here. Yay me.“And? See, this is why my description of you and your sisters is so accurate,” I smiled while I explained. “I would try to save almost anyone because it is the right thing to do. The only reason saving you was a mistake was that it caused me to fall further into Hayden’s favor. Now she’s going to expect that shit on a regular basis solely because you are of House Arinniti.”“Ah; I like you,” Oneida pleaded.“Why?” I asked.“You risked so much for Aya. You made her laugh and smile. You…you acted as if you cared for her; as if you were her own mother,” Oneida told me. “Was that a deception too?”“Hmmm…not what I expected,” I mused. “Fine, realizing that I was with Aya for her sake and hers alone raises you up a step in my estimations. I’m not being deceptive about how I feel about this place, Oneida. Here, let me prove it.” I looked to Constanza. “Constanza, do I hate your guts?”She glared at me. “Constanza, if I thought I could get away with it, would I shove a fragmentation grenade up your ass and pull the pin?” No response.“See,” I grinned to the gawking Oneida, “I’m not being deceptive about how I feel about this place. My opinion matters not at all to these women yet they know I’ll never act on my hate because of my own, perverse Code of Conduct. I’m not going to run away and I’m not going to stop being me. I’m certainly not going to fall in love with anyone here.”“Oh,” she muttered.“I have to go to work now. Have a nice day,” I turned to Constanza. “Are you my work buddy today?”“Male, come with us,” Constanza snapped. Off the four of us walked; right back to the elevator.Down we went, past any level my ID card could have accessed. Devo’s Working in the Coal Mine sprang to mind, so I hummed it. I was feeling completely at ease. Constanza stood behind me, while the other two stood at either side, but half a step back so they were right at the edge of my peripheral vision. I felt like a team player; an interregnal part of my imminent demise.The group marched past the Armory. I waved to my old friend, the Kindergarten Cop. She glowered. Amazons were not martinets. They were clean-cut and proud, but vigilance meant much more than a scuff mark on a boot, or a gaze locked on the farther wall. Our trip deposited in yet another room I could never access.I was the first one through the door. I almost froze. For starters, the room was around 15 meters wide and 6 meters deep. In the center of the room was an 8x2meter table. On the table where a wide variety of firearms and ammunition. Automatic pistols, revolvers, shotguns and submachine guns plus multiple clips, or speed-loaders for them all.They hadn’t brought me here to murder me with Death by multiple calibers. If they wanted me dead, they would have blown my brains out already then put a gun in my hand in a hopeless attempt to fool Katrina. The number of guns didn’t even impress me. The far wall was transparent and through it I could see multiple ladies in sports bras and boy shorts shooting away on a firing range.Holy Mother of God! I was here for weapons training. What the Hell had gone wrong? As I moved deeper into the room, one SD Femi-Nazi moved down the left wall, the other moved down the right and Constanza remained two steps behind me.“Please clarify my task for this time period, Constanza?” I requested. The look she shot me was lethal.“The weapons present are ones you have stated you have a familiarity with as well as others in common usage here at Havenstone. All the rounds are hollow points, or slugs. Chose which weapons you wish to qualify in, load your clips and inform me when you have completed this part of the assignment.”“Thank you,” I nodded then set to the task at hand. Constanza clearly had expected me to be a smart ass. I had used learning about guns to get tail. That didn’t mean I disrespected the weapons. I picked up several side arms, testing their weight and grips before deciding on the .40 Smith & Wesson Glock-22.I felt the ammo, making sure I wouldn’t be running around with blanks this time. This shit was real. Elsa had claimed she’d rather be skinned alive than let any man bear weapons in her Havenstone. Maybe I shouldn’t have felt her up, or given that massage to that med tech, or stripped in the elevator. I was a really, truly naughty boy.Most women spank naughty boys. My tormentors tend to fuck with my mind because, ya know, it’s harder to defend against that crap. Also, there is not a hand lotion made that will soothe the ravaged psyche. I began loading the clips.“Is that the only one you are taking?” Constanza eventually broke down and asked.“I don’t want to waste your time,” I replied. “This is my favorite pistol. I’ve shot .22, .38, 9 mm, and .45, but I’m most comfortable with this one. Maybe later I can work with the shotguns. I haven’t a clue how to handle anything else.” I could see it in her eyes; 'damn him; he’s making sense.’There was one final way I could fuck up. I didn’t. I knew firearms etiquette. Don’t load your gun before taking your station at the range. Sure, all the crazy chicks could do it, but that was part of their jobs; killing things. I was a novice. I picked out some ear protection and an adequate hip holster in case Constanza wanted me to fire from the draw.I was clearly not making her day by not screwing up.“This way,” she barked. She accessed the door leading to the range and out we stepped. All around, the firing slowly died. For each of the women, there was a second of disbelief followed by several more seconds of outrage.Lust was where the emotional landslide ended. I was 'That’ guy. I wasn’t something they could codify. I made meaningful, defiant eye contact, I dressed to impress, and I was known to be courageous. Having Hayden decide that she wanted to mate with me didn’t hurt my appeal one bit. I could already tell they were figuring out where to shoot me so that I could still have sex an hour later.I was a man in Havenstone with a gun after all. I was the equivalent of the Pope in Mecca; it just didn’t happen. My booth was nice and comfy. After placing my gear on the table,“What do I do next?”“Ear guards; check weapon; load, chamber, announce your preparation to fire; fire as quickly and accurately as possible. Reload and fire until you have uses all rounds,” she commanded.Hmm…six meters. Standard human-scored target. I hadn’t done this in a year. I shook my limbs out to get ready for the shock and recoil then steadied my breathing. Fifteen rounds, starting at the ready stance.“Ready,” I pronounced.“Begin,” was Constanza’s muffled command. The report of the first shot, the sting of the recoil, the pull on the arm and the shell ejecting; all of those rolled over me before I could count. I almost missed the automatic slide staying open. Down went the old magazine even as my left hand retrieved and leveraged the next one in.A problem presented itself. The girl who first taught me was pretty good; in the 'if you couldn’t find the prerequisite number of bullet holes in the target, everyone assumed the missing bullet had passed through one of the previous penetrations’ kind of way. I was pretty lucky. She took a red hot poker to me and was thankfully far less accurate.She was so incredibly beautiful; so furious with me, naked and chasing me around a cabin lit solely by the fireplace, with that firebrand in her hand. Maybe it was wrong of me to take her English professor up to the girl’s cabin for a sexual rendezvous; or stick the professor in the closet when the poor lady absolutely had go to the bathroom. Or fucked the girl on her bear skin rug until the professor had to come out of said closet before she urinated. I know; I’m an idiot.Fifteen bullets into the first target had made a mess of it. Since there was no one in either station around me, I started shooting at the target to the left. I put the last magazine into the one on the right. It took me well over thirty seconds to get all 45 shots off, but I did it.“Done,” I stated as I put the gun down and took a half-step back.“Do you shoot pistols a lot?” one of my other guards asked in amazement. They had undoubtedly seen better speed and marksmanship. It was their cosmically low opinion of me that made my effort so impossible to believe.“No, I’m a Natural Born Killer,” I grinned at the three of them.“Males are arrogant and take things for granted. They are sloppy,” Constanza sneered.“It never fails to surprise me that you don’t accept that your ancestors were some of the toughest bitches to ever walk the planet,” I muttered.“What does that mean?” Constanza growled.“Warriors so tough they are remembered thousands of years later and your founders escaped with their lives; as opposed to all those Trojans, Hittites and Lydians who ended up decorating graves with their bones,” I glared back. “What I mean is; why does me having a weapon really bother you? I’m am totally out-numbered, out-classed and out-gunned.”“I don’t want to die. I’m definitely not suicidal. I’ll even take bullets, arrows and blades for you people,” I snarled. “Quite frankly, all of this paranoia is really starting to get on my nerves, so fucking Cut it out!”“You do not tell us what to do,” Constanza ground out. She’d grabbed my chin with one hand.“I’ll keep that in mind next time an Amazon’s life is in danger and a simply warning from me could save their life. Be assured I’ll put your directive down for the reason they croaked,” I countered.“If it was up to me, you would be killed for your insolence,” she growled.“Does it ever occur to you it is the other way around?” I touched her wrist.“What?” Constanza was both irate and uncertain.“You are where you are because you have a habit of making poor decision on a strategic level,” I explained. Apparently I wanted to die.“Why does anyone like you?” Constanza muttered.“Like me? Most people who know me, hate me; like you. The difference is they get to know me first then they hate me. You haven’t gotten the full Cáel experience yet. You hate me on a purely generic level. Real hate comes from knowing me,” I grinned.Like so much that comes from my lips, that was a lie. To be truthful, most of the women I had wronged over the past four years forgave me; eventually. Most of them figured out that I hadn’t cheated on them; I cheated on EVERY girl I was with, but one; my mentor. She was the one who tossed me out among the female population in the first place.Some ladies did hold a grudge. There is one chick who burns me in effigy every year on the date of our break up. I should have known better. It was my freshman year and she was a Psychology teaching assistant. Most psych majors are wacko; more wacko than most pissed of women, I have learned from experience. I’ll still date them. I also take more care about what I eat and drink around them too.“I’m glad to know you will be gone soon,” she seethed then removed her hand from my chin.“Constanza, you really need to stop trusting me so much,” I chuckled.“I don’t trust you at all,” she countered.“But you are taking my word for it that women hate me,” I snickered.“More importantly, you are ignoring the facts. The majority of the women at Havenstone who like me, do so for reasons totally devoid of any intimacy. We both know I can be a jerk. I’m being a jerk right now; to you. What separates us is that I have no doubt that if you were in danger, I would come to your aid. That is the kind of person I am,” I related calmly.“That would never happen,” Constanza insisted.“I don’t care what you think,” I shot back. “I don’t make decisions based on your whimsy. I follow my leadership. I know I’m loyal. Now, can we please get back to the reason we are all here?”The scoring indicated that I was so lucky that girl came at me with the poker. I missed six shots out of 45, which I thought was awesome. I even managed to badly tear up the chests of the front and left targets. The target on the right was still 'dead’, but he could be buried in a tuxedo. I had one head shot; it wasn’t on purpose.We went back to the gun room, reloaded my Glock, a .38 Colt and a Mossberg shotgun. One guard went with me while Constanza and the second guard scored my first round. Back in the firing lane, I lost all firearms ability what so ever. I was saved by three shooters who volunteered to help. See how easy that was? They helped me with my stances, reload techniques and argued the merits of hip holster, ankle holsters and shoulder holsters.To reciprocate their hospitality, I stripped off my annoying jacket, tie, shirt and undershirt. We got into a discussion of spent rounds bouncing around and maybe scaring the shooter. For the Amazons, it was training to ignore painful distractions. I stopped; leveled by an epic brainstorm; and fired off an order to Executive Services; care of Daphne.“What are you doing?” one of the new lethality-engines asked, somewhat piqued.“Oh, I have to celebrate Fabiola’s resurrection; Hayden’s orders; and that is going to require supernatural aids,” I replied. I was back on track in their eyes.“What was it like to feel the strength of the Ancestors flow through you?” the second one whispered. This Ancestors and Goddess crap; mysticism was real to them. I’ve never claimed to be a deity though I’ve insinuated that I was the blood descendant of the Goddess Ishtar; reference the Wiccan Priestess; and her circle of naked female celebrants.The answer, not a total lie, was pure Amazon.“I didn’t feel anything,” I could sense their disappointment. “You know, all I felt was the spear and nothing else. Absolutely nothing else mattered. All other burdens and pains were lifted from me so I could devote myself entirely to the task at hand; hold the spear aloft.”They ate it up because the 'stillness’ was at their core of martial mystique. Bushido had it too except they called it 'No Mind’, or something like that. To be honest, I had come by that state of being through sex. My focus narrowed down to my partner and all of her actions and reactions. For a lowly male, like me, to possess that quality must have been divine intervention.“You did a wonderful thing; channeling the Ancestors that way,” the third stated. “Oneida is precious to the Host.”“I beg to differ,” I regarded her with a quirky smirk. “Every life is precious. When you start weighing a person’s life before you chose to save it, you have lost much more than that split second; you have lost a piece of your soul.”Oh look. I was lecturing them and they didn’t like it.“Try looking at it from my viewpoint for a second,” I knew they couldn’t. “I’m a lowly male caught up in your fiendish experiment. I don’t know who any of you are beyond the reality that you would casually harm, or even kill me for any number of reasons.”“You clearly think I should cower and cow-tow to your whims and wishes,” I took in their negative reactions. “I’m not. That’s not me. Instead, I’m going to run errands, learn to fight, laugh, play and have a great time. If it matters; I know it doesn’t to you; I am Cáel Nyilas, son of Ferko, son of Árpád of the Magyar. 'Where there is Valor, there is Hope’,” I added.That wasn’t my family motto. We were from poor, immigrant stock. My grandparents spoke Hungarian. I knew a little of it, just not enough to be considered fluent. I knew some Vlach (Romanian) too. When your neighbors are screaming insults at you, it pays to know exactly what they are saying. Again, I’m not fluent in Vlach, but I could get in a bar fight over what I did know.“Your lineage is inconsequential,” Constanza snapped. She’d come back; yippee!“How did I do, Jefe?” I beamed happiness her way.“I hate you,” she said through clenched teeth. I must have done better than I thought.“Well, that’s good. Maybe, under your instruction, I’ll almost be a match for the other fine ladies down here one day in the distant future,” I nodded happily.“That your heart still beats is an insult to everything I stand for,” Constanza spat.“I’m cool with that in the same way I’m cool ignoring this whole 'blood prestige’ thing. You gals aren’t respecting mine and you certainly aren’t explaining your rules to me, so I’m opting out of this whole 'my old lady was better at dodging arrows than yours’.”“You should not insult us this way,” my closet, newest gun-buddy cautioned me.“I agree. Do you even know who the Magyar are?” I inquired.“No,” she shrugged.“Go find out and then we can talk,” I grinned. “Until then, you are disrespecting the aim of a sniper you don’t even know exists yet is stalking you.”As they were struggling to figure that out, I groaned.“You are insulting my people without knowledge of who they are. You are asking me to show respect to your people without explaining to me why. I’m sure they were wonderful, fucking women, but I don’t know anything about them,” I related.“If you want blind obedience, go have fun with sterility,” I smirked. “I’ve got better and more far-sighted women I’d rather be with.”“Most likely you will be milked of your seed, joined with our eggs thus creating the next generation of the host,” the third girl got all riled-up. Sex.“Man,” I laughed. “Am I the only one here to have figured out that I, and the other new male hires, aren’t the only ones being tested? Really? Come on. If Katrina wanted to train me to use a gun, she could have sent me with Desiree to a private gun range and handled this stuff off-site. No. She had to put me here; with all of you.”All those smug, superior, horny chicks just realized they’d taken a philosophical snap-kick to the cranium. Tested? Amazons were tested all the fucking time. It was their culture to keep them fit, firm and alert. Best of all, the male had to be the one to bring this to their attention. I wrapped my arm around the waist of the closest Amazon and pulled her groin to my hip.“That’s okay though. I’m in this for all of you,” I murmured while looking deep into her eyes; as if we were the only two people in the world. “With your aid, I think we can do this; make it work. Don’t you?” She nodded. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Shotguns, pistol-grip shotguns and an MP-5 joined my list of weapons I knew the basics of afterwards.Once more, I was rendered even more attractive by the fact that I could hit a man-sized target at 6 meters with a gun I had only then picked up. I had been joking about the whole 'natural born killer’ comeback. I wasn’t convinced that my ancestor’s ability to fight all their neighbors, sometimes all at the same time, made me kick-ass.Frankly, my people had lost wars to every European empire of the middle ages and modern times. You just couldn’t keep us down. Maybe resistance was genetically based. That was crazy talk…but Grandpa was a tough SOB, as was my Dad, now that I thought about it. Gramps Old Man died fighting the Russians in world war two, which was why he fled his homeland as a child.Mom’s people; they were Irish; the Irish, when not fighting for their own homeland, were fighting for some else’s. Mom didn’t get the time to teach me much, but I do recall this:The greatest lie the Irish ever tell is that they only hate the English. The Irish hate anyone they can get their hands on, even other Irish. If you don’t believe that, look at every ethnic neighborhood in the US that border an Irish enclave. They fight with them all.I got my twisted sense of humor from my Mom. I miss her so. Knowing Mom, she wouldn’t be ashamed of my infidelities. She’d probably say 'he’s test-driving until he finds the one that can keep him in line’. I hoped she wouldn’t be ashamed of me. My time was up. I had to go to Katrina’s office. Constanza banished me with a grumpy face and a dismissive wave of the hand.The chick I had put on my hip volunteered/elbowed her way to showing me out. My ID card wouldn’t open any stairwell, or elevator. She felt comfortable walking around in her underwear, plus a shoulder holstered 10 mm. Ten steps out, from her left, I snaked my hand around her back to her right hip. She looked to me and smiled.“Can you give me some advice?” I inquired.“I’ll try,” she hedged.“Well, you are clearly in excellent physical condition. I’ve been trying to put together a regimen that will get my left thigh in shape,” I started. She nodded.“I’ve a quadriceps exercise in mind, but I’m unsure about one for the gluts,” I mused. She looked uncertain. I moved my hand off her hip, over to her left hand then placed her hand force on my left buttock. We were now really close. “I’m afraid of losing my muscle tone. Can you help?”“Umm…” she hesitated. “I could think of a few things.” She worked herself up to giving my ass a good squeeze. This was not the first male butt she’d handled yet it was most likely the firmest and most sexually promising one she’d felt. Promising something she couldn’t quite envision but felt deep within her loins.She dispensed advice. I nodded appreciatively. When I asked for some kind of confirmation, she kindly put my hand on her ass which I promptly began squeezing. Like shooting fish in a barrel. We were comparing stomach and shoulder techniques on the elevator. Her name was Naomi and she was with the Security Detail and a member of House Rajah; ally of House Arinniti. Sweet!Like clockwork, Brielle and her buddy joined me in the elevator on the ground floor. They had to know somebody to track me this well. Me shirtless with an Amazon in her undies. It must be Monday morning.“This is new,” Brielle commented. “Good morning, Naomi. Forget something?”“I’m on the job,” Naomi retorted. It was the whole 'going without clothes’ thing.“Are you protecting a bare-chested Cáel from us, or us from a bare-chested Cáel?” her companion joked. Naomi’s mouth opened then shut.“I cannot talk about it. Neither one of us can,” Naomi declared with authority.“That’s right, Ladies,” I nodded. “What happens in the laundry room, stays in the laundry room.” All those who felt I’d gone to the laundry room, raise your hands. No takers.“I smell gunpowder residue,” Brielle commented after she took a close whiff.“The Dominicans, Latin Kings, and the Redneck Posse have all started fighting over that little block of paradise I call home,” I sighed regretfully. Silence.“Redneck Posse? That’s not one I’ve heard of before,” Naomi commented. Here we go!“Oh yeah,” I looked contemplative. “Ten years ago, several linguists studying Appalachian dialects paid for some native speakers to come to the city to help in their research. The hillbillies got paid, got jobs and brought their families down.”“When the grant money for the study ran out, the bumpkins had to find another way to support their kin that their minimum wage jobs couldn’t providing. Enter the Redneck Posse. Guns, meth, moonshine; they do it all. They are kind of like Afghan tribesmen except instead of being half a world away by sea, or air, they are a four, or five, hour drive down the interstate,” I concluded.The three women exchanged confused looks. The doors opened on my floor.“Oh my Goddess!” Brielle exclaimed. “That’s almost possible to believe.” I winked and left.“You mean that was a lie too?” Naomi gasped. The doors shut on that conversation as I swept through the office.I had 90 seconds to spare. Only Dora wasn’t here yet, but there was a pile of boxes on my desk. They were all looking at me as if I’d just stepped out of a pool, or a French cologne commercial. I set my clothing and valise on my tiny, now over-stacked, desk then joined the line-up.“Good morning Cáel,” Katrina looked me up and down.“I certainly hope it will be. Good morning to you too, Katrina,” I beamed. Pause.“Forgetting something?” Katrina prodded. I sniffed the air. I didn’t sense it.“Yes Ma'am, Katrina. I’m missing one thing. I hope it gets here soon,” I confirmed. Pause.“Very well, let’s get started,” Katrina began. Fabiola lost it.“What! He doesn’t have a shirt, tie, or jacket on. As far as we know, he’s not even wearing underwear,” she screeched.“Cáel, is your attire, or lack thereof, necessary for the performance of your duties?” Katrina politely inquired.“Yes it is Katrina,” I nodded.“Very well…” Katrina started over.“What possible reason could you have for being half dressed,” Fabiola ranted. “Are you going to cover yourself with oil and slither down the stairs like the snake you are?”No one said anything for a while. The rest of the 'new hires’ were coming around to the fact that Katrina and I were mocking Fabiola. Otherwise, Katrina would have shut her down. I held up my hand.“Yes Cáel,” Katrina acknowledged me, “despite the meeting having already begun and not being directly addressed by me, you may speak.” Slap!“Fabiola, I find your desire to see me oiled up a bit perplexing,” I grinned in her direction. “I would like to point out, despite the evidence you have presented today, I am not an idiot and our boss; Katrina; is not a fool. Hate me to your heart’s content, but don’t insult Katrina by thinking she doesn’t already know what I’m up to.”“She does not explain herself to me, or you, and I’m pretty sure even Hayden gets an edited view of what goes on here in Executive Services. I don’t know and I don’t care. That’s not in my job description and I’m already way out of bounds as it is,” I said. “For your sake and your sake alone, I will tell you why I’m am dressed the way I am today.”“It is part of your ritual apology,” Violet blurted. “It’s obvious. This has to do with what Hayden told him to do.” That wasn’t truly fair to Fabiola. The rest of the ladies had been rushing around getting the items I decided I needed for my public apology. Dora came bolting in right then.“I’m sorry I’m late, Katrina,” she panted. “Did I miss anything?”“No,” Katrina returned events to their proper order. “First off, for today, I’ll start with Cáel’s work review for Friday. I never thought I would say this about his on-the-clock performance. Cáel, your work output on Friday was stellar. There, I said it. Next…”That would have been a far greater treasure had that been my work report instead of Aya’s. Everyone else did well, save Tigger. She had forgotten a security sequence and had half a floor locked down for 15 minutes. At the conclusion, Buffy came in, slammed a flimsy, but aromatic, box into my chest then stormed away.“Cáel?” Katrina questioned.“Yes. Thank you,” I then turned to Fabiola. “Do you wish to have the ceremony here, or out on the main floor of Executive Services?”“I; what are you going to do?” Fabiola grew suspicious. “This is a trick to make me look foolish again.”“Fabiola, it is Hayden’s wish you hear him out,” Paula spoke. “He’s troublesome, not stupid. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to defy Hayden on this.”“Swear to me you are not going to make me look bad,” Fabiola stared at me.“What do I possess that you believe is valuable?” I countered. She had to think about that.It couldn’t be Aya. Fabiola was stumped. She had been so busy looking down her fine Roman nose at me, she had neglected to notice everything I had done and said.“Your mentor,” Daphne offered.“She has forbidden me to see her again, but thank you,” I winked at Daphne.A quick list of less than helpful suggestions followed. It turned out the only thing I valued was my freedom and I couldn’t give that up to Fabiola because that decision lay with Katrina. I would rather defy Hayden than give up sex, I lied continuously for little, or no reason. Fabiola wasn’t looking for Lent, she wanted something concrete. It simply didn’t exist.Out we went with a very distraught Fabiola and me with a bunch of small boxes. I didn’t worry about expensing all this crap. I wasn’t spending my own money anyway. I had Fabiola stand in the largest open area ES had. Even people who only had business on this floor were joining the growing body of my co-workers here to witness the spectacle.Three small brass bowels and one small oil lamp went to the four compass points; I even had a compass. I put sand in one, water in another and dry ice in the third. I lit the lamp.“This symbols me calling the four corners of Terra to bear witness: Earth, Air, Fire and Water,” I explained. Next I wrote down Fabiola’s name on a slip of paper in Old Kingdom Hittite.I burned it. Fabiola frowned. She was the only one. I dropped the ashes into a glass of water.“With this, I take back my curse. I swallow it, thus swallowing my words,” I explained to Fabiola. I drank the whole thing. That accomplished, I pulled a small silver owl out of an unopened box to a series of murmurs. “This is a gift to your house. Minerva (the Roman Athena) is your patron Goddess. I do honor to her for bringing you back.” I handed her the owl.Her expression told me she was still waiting for the trap to be sprung on her. I wrote out my name, in Magyar then held it up to Fabiola.“This is my name, Cáel Nyilas, in my native tongue,” I told her. I burned it, ground up the ashes with my fingers. With a little bit of coordinated effort, I drew the word 'forgiveness’ in Old Kingdom Hittite over my heart.The last box. It was Dobos Tortas, a sweet treat from my native land; Hungary, not Chicago.“Please accept this gift as a symbol of my apology and my desire to seek your forgiveness,” I looked into Fabiola’s eyes. The weight came crushing down on her. Virtually all the women around her wanted me to be forgiven.Not because they hated her. Most barely knew her; or me. It was the ceremony. Simple, relatively quick yet individualized by the giving of gifts designed for each participant. Deep in her twisted little soul, Fabiola still expected a trap, trick, or joke at her expense. She probably thought the 'cookies’ were poisoned.“I forgive you,” Fabiola stated. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Share a treat with me.” I even let her pick out the one to stick in my mouth. Maybe she thought I had the antidote, or maybe she decided I was on the up-and-up. The crowd of Amazons made happy, communal noises and we all parted as friends…okay, friends and their dancing bear; me.Katrina snuck up on me as a handful of woman thanked me for the insightful ceremony. I told them they were welcome while neglecting to inform them that I made all of that up. Part of it was Wiccan. Part was some 1960’s Italian movie I’d seen. A few things I pulled out of my ass, like normal.“Put on your clothes,” Katrina handed me my things. “You did well. I am sure Hayden will be equally pleased.”“No problem,” I looked at her appreciatively. I felt a cerebral connection evolving between us.“Put on your shirt before I start licking your nipples,” Katrina demanded. Damn it.Wait, things got better. As I looked away from Katrina and started getting dressed, Buffy appeared before me. I bet I could have melted an ice cap with the head of steam she’d built up.“Do you like dressing as a male stripper? Do you like women drooling all over you?” Buffy sizzled.“No; yes,” I responded.“I hate you,” she snapped.“I admire the fact that you can pull off the lead in Madame Butterfly,” I bantered back.“Let’s get to work,” Buffy growled. Off we went.(Elsa Round Three)“Hello Stanica,” Buffy greeted the SD guard at the gym facility door. That was new. Normally it was a card-swipe and in you went. Buffy and I were dressed for a workout; per orders.“Full-bloods only,” Stanica stopped Buffy. Ah, racism was raising its ugly head.“How am I supposed to get in?” I countered. This appointment was in our queue for 11 a.m.“You have been summoned,” Stanica clarified.“Cool…I’ll be back in 70 days. Good job Chuckles,” I grinned.“You have been summoned,” she threatened with a great deal more menace.“He works for me today,” Buffy yawned. “That means he goes where I go. Cáel doesn’t have a queue today, I do. He’s my intern. If you won’t let me in, then he doesn’t go in. Let’s go Cáel.”Stanica grabbed my arm.“He goes in. You stay,” she insisted.“Cáel; resist,” Buffy ordered. To Stanica, “Knock yourself out.” Stanica briefly tried to move me. Then she went for some kind of control-hold/lock. Brazilian jujitsu, Baby.It is not some kind of 'super’ martial art. As far as I knew, none of them were. If you were trying to break, or establish physical control over another person, it was pretty spectacular though. Along with the Amazon 'house’ style, she knew something akin to Krav Maga. Stanica was hampered by her unwillingness to do me serious harm, as was I toward her.The difference was, all I had to do was stay in the hallway, while Stanica had to get me through the doors. The stalemate was broken by two fresh full-bloods coming from the changing room to the facilities.“Sisters, assist me,” Stanica called out. “Help me wrestle him to the ground without undo damage.” They came forward and jumped me.“Are you on official Havenstone business?” Buffy politely inquired as they dog piled on me.“Shut up,” Stanica yelled.“Failing to adequately explain the situation,” Buffy quick drew her pistol and pressed it to the temple of one of the two new Amazons, “informs me you are willingly interfering in official Executive Services business.”“By all means, give me an excuse to file an incident report,” Buffy grinned feral.“Do it and you die, 'Lost Blood’ (Old Kingdom Hittite),” the threatened woman responded.“Boss, may I suggest an alternative?” I ground up. They had me pressed down in the hall.“I’m willing to accept you were hired for your intelligence,” Buffy allowed.“Trust me. I got this,” I snickered. Buffy didn’t trust me, yet she knew my tone well. Buffy holstered her weapon and stood back.“This isn’t over, Buffy,” the Amazon she’d pulled down on snapped.“Go for it,” Buffy chuckled. “You are running off with Katrina’s male. I was trying to assert her rights and you have defied her. I gleefully await her judgment.”The woman snarled then grunted as my three captures pulled me up. Buffy was on her phone, typing away a text when the women realized my feet weren’t planted under me. I started to topple over.“Stand up, damn you,” Stanica demanded. I looked to Buffy for confirmation of that order. She smiled while indicating nothing.“Stand up,” the third Amazon insisted. She backed that up with a jab to my left kidney. Damn, this place was hellishly unlucky for the left side of my body. That did not encourage me to stand.“Fine, we’ll drag him in,” Stanica changed up. I didn’t resist one bit. I acted like dead weight.This scene was made all the more precious by the audience Elsa had gathered for whatever exhibition she had planned for me. The whole sparring area was surrounded by Amazons clearly waiting on me. Most were cross-legged though a few knelt behind the first rank. I could see Elsa, spear in hand, watching those three lugging me in from her position in the Southwest corner of the mats.“What’s wrong with him?” Elsa inquired calmly.“He is afraid,” Stanica answered. I would have replied, but I knew silence would be far more cutting. See; everyone expect me to have a comeback. My quiet unsettled them. The three unceremoniously dumped me next to the Northeast corner. I lay there.I had noticed two axes about a meter in on the mat. I pulled myself into a position where my butt was resting on my heels.“My Sisters,” Elsa began. “There has been some interest in Cáel’s two-axe style as well as various theories on how to defeat it. Today, I will display the long spear technique’s ability to overcome this problem.”“Cáel, pick up the axes and prepare yourself. I will wait until you indicate your readiness,” Elsa nodded my way. Very friendly. I looked around a bit, rather bored. “Cáel?” she repeated. I looked at Elsa.“Oh, were you under some delusion that you could tell me what to do, Elsa?” I replied. There was a hush for so many reasons. Elsa being denied, a man denying anything to any of them, and my cavalier, even dismissive attitude toward the Full-blooded assembly.“Under what delusion do you think you can safely defy me?” Elsa smiled shark-like.“Hmmm,” I mused, “let me think. You are not Hayden, Katrina, or Buffy; my chain of command. You are not Aya, who I love. You are not acting in my best interest as it relates to Havenstone. Yeah, that should about cover it.”“I am a woman of Havenstone and I am giving you, a male, an order. There is no acceptable reason to disobey,” Elsa countered.“You are incorrect,” I began. The ladies around me didn’t like that. “I cannot betray my Amazons. You do not possess the power to force me to disappoint them.”“Your Amazons?” A chocolate Amazon with a shaved pate jumped up. “We are not 'yours’, filth.”“Were you born stupid, or has education made you that way?” I spat back. An ass-whooping was in the offing.“If you came at Hayden, or Katrina, do you think I’d sit idly by and let them fight alone?” I kept at it, though I remained kneeling. “If you threaten any member of Executive Services, or House Epona, make peace with your Ancestors because I will fight, bleed and die for MY Amazons. I’ve already proved that oath. Your opinion on the matter is less than rat-piss to me.”I’m sure arrogance has a use. I haven’t found one yet, but I don’t ignore the possibility. Chocolate chick grabbed for my hair, ready to slit my throat the moment she tilted my head back. This would have been appropriate if I was one of their old male population. Only total arrogance had kept her from actually listening to the words of defiance coming out of my mouth.I caught her hand, flipped her over and drove the top of her skull into the mat. That shoots a numbing jolt right up the spine, I can tell you from experience. I snatched the knife from her helpless fingers as she finished flipping over, her head closest to me then pressed the blade to her jugular.“Not a single person in this room matters to me. The only person that should matter to you, is me,” I stated calmly and quietly. “That being the case, chose your next words carefully and with due consideration of everything I’ve said before this moment.” I was going to die if I killed her. That wouldn’t save her life from her own, small, razor-sharp blade.Almost a minute passed.“Cáel, give me my blade,” she replied in a rather brave voice. I pulled my hand up, spun the blade around and pressed it into her palm. She slowly sat up and swiveled around until we were face to face, her cross-legged and me, back to my kneeling pose. Her eyes were ice cold.“I was never in any danger, was I?” the woman half-asked, half stated.“Of course not. I would never shame Katrina that way. I’d kill for her. Killing an Amazon to save my own life would not be something she’d allow,” I explained as much to the room as the woman.“Don’t lie,” another Amazon teased me; thankfully. It was Traska Maza; from the Medical Center. “I heard you murdered an Amazon on Friday; end of business.”“Yep,” I confessed. “Hayden has admonished me from repeating that method of assassination. I swear that if Fabiola keeps calling 'Runners’ 'Lost Bloods’, I’m going to figure out another way to get her.”“The term 'Lost Blood’ is the term we use. Accept it, Male,” Stanica growled. I had to think about that. I stood up, so I had a good view of the SD bitch. I also had to work up the proper insult. Anything I directed at Stanica would be useless. I knew their weakness though.“Hey,” I addressed my African opponent.“Stanica’s mother mated with her own paternal male to give birth to Stanica. I read it in an inner-office e-mail.” Total lie, but the 'lie’ wasn’t mine. It was from an unnamed Amazon and it insulted her bloodline, something she truly valued. I glared at Stanica. “That is why it is insulting. In a blood-conscious culture, you are rubbing their noses in a fact beyond their control.”“I agree,” Oneida spoke up. “'Lost Bloods’ is insulting. I had never questioned that before. 'Runners is a better term. I will ask my house to use it from now on.”“That’s not going to save him,” Stanica seethed.“Do you want to know where the memo came from?” I inquired of Stanica.“There is no memo,” Stanica snapped. I shrugged.“Why would I make it up? Such a deadly insult?” I pressed the point. Oh, I had made it up because I hate bigotry, especially when it is aimed at someone who was almost a friend.“Who?” she glared.“I don’t know, but I know who does,” I offered. “She’s right outside that door,” I pointed to the main entrance. Now, do people recall that divide I was talking about way back in Chapter Two? It worked both ways. Full-bloods were aware of the oppression they exerted on their 'Lost Blood/Runner’ sisters. Creeping around in the back of some of their minds was the worry that those newcomers resented their superiors.Had the two groups been truly united, Stanica wouldn’t have given my bluff a second glance. Here was the backlash of being a bigot; the idea that those you hated, hating you right back. In short order, Buffy was by my side and listening to Stanica’s grievance. Finally we were speaking English again.“Man, Desiree is going to be so sorry she missed this,” Buffy looked down at me.I was kneeling again so she was able to appear lofty and run her hand through my hair the way she liked to do when she was extra horny for me. I also liked the way her boobs nearly obscured her face from my view. Very nice tits.“Stanica, he lied to you,” Buffy revealed.“I knew it! Stand aside, I’m going to gut the little shit,” Stanica started to come at me.“No you don’t,” Buffy interposed herself. “See, Cáel was following his instructions and he used your idiocy against you, Dumbass,” she gloated to Stanica. “He was ordered to serve at my side today, so that is what he did. Who in the right mind would commit anything about blood prestige to an office e-mail anyway? It wasn’t even up to his normally superb level of deception.”“Then he should be punished for lying to me,” Stanica seethed.“I told him to,” Buffy wasn’t even lying. She’d approved my plan the moment she agreed to 'trust me’.“When?” Elsa requested. She was coming our way. Buffy looked over her shoulder.“Funny, you don’t look like Katrina, Elsa,” Buffy guffawed. “Make an official request through the proper channels. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”“Do we need to clarify our positions?” Elsa menaced. I jumped up and took up a boxing stance. With Stanica on one side, Elsa on the other and the preference of Amazons to gang up on opponents, I had to have her back.“Kneel,” Buffy tapped my shoulder. I knelt. “Honestly Elsa, Cáel fucked me so hard and long this weekend that even your pettiness doesn’t annoy me today. Now, why are we here?”“He’s not allowed to have sex,” Traska seemed a bit distressed. Me having sex outside the office had never occurred to her apparently.“Strangely, I have all of you to thank for that,” Buffy smugly regarded the room. “While you let Constanza and Crewe ambush him then sat back uselessly while he kicked both their asses, gazed on as he refused to take advantage of Constanza once she was clearly incapable of resisting and let her put a blade to his throat, he found a way to legally sleep with me.”“Afraid? With a blade to his throat, he couldn’t care less about any of you,” Buffy regaled them. “Oh, we know you don’t care what he thinks; or what I think. Well, welcome to the world you’ve created. I don’t care what you think. Blood Prestige? I’ll only give as much respect as I’m given. I am embarrassed I ever thought any of you were better than me.”“My prestige is that I volunteered for this lifestyle. I made a choice that no one else in this room ever had the courage to make; to abandon my old life for another, unknown one. From here on out, I’m going to be like Cáel. One of you bitches puts a hand on me, be ready to back it up,” Buffy challenged them. Not the best move as far as I could tell.“Be prepared to be put in your place,” Elsa grinned.“Go right ahead. Don’t get too worked up. There are around a hundred of my fellow; 'Runners’ at the door,” Buffy smirked.“It is best to end this rebellion right now,” the chocolate opponent stood up.“Over what?” I looked up. I hated Buffy making me kneel. “The 'Runners’ are doing the exact same tasks you are doing. They want to be awarded respect for that.”“This is not your place,” the woman stated to me. As an afterthought. “Ngozi.”“Thank you,” I acknowledged her consideration of giving me her name.“Ha,” Buffy snorted. “Oh…rebellion? Let’s just say when we realized that (dead word) meant Lost Bloods, we were; unhappy. All this weekend, this petty insult had been spreading out to all our non-Full-blood sisters. Actually, we have come up with two alternatives. One was to approach Hayden with our grievance.”“The other was to start calling the rest of you (dead word) (which meant 'Poison Bloods’),” Buffy stared down the festering crowd. “After all, we are all fertile and the few children we have been allowed to have are born without defect.” Amazons don’t threaten often. Normally they simply go straight to the punishment. I was somewhat of an exception for reasons that somehow alluded me.I tried to stand again, but Buffy pushed me back down. Pain was imminent then the muttering began. Around us, small clumps of Full-bloods began pushing for space. That could only mean they were getting ready to fight and since they weren’t close to us, they were getting ready to fight their own sisters.I doubted they were enamored with me, or the 'Runner’ cause. This was a common sense reaction. They recognized a no-win contest when they saw it. 'Runners’ were demanding respect; same recognition for taking the same risks. They weren’t even asking for admission into the 'Host’; the true Amazons and their House structure.The tipping points in this protest had been Fabiola and the loyalist opposition led by Helena, the only 'Runner’ close enough to my struggle Friday afternoon that could have started it. Remember, the Old Kingdom Hittite language was a closely guarded secret. So secret that Buffy, despite her years of loyal service, hadn’t been taught it.There had been decades of small slights that led to this. It wasn’t me, except for the definition thing. Fabiola was hardly an aberration. The other female 'new hires’ were more the exception than the rule. That was probably why Katrina had chosen them. In her profession; internal and external security; creative thinking and flexibility were as important as blood lines.“Excuse me,” a soft voice penetrated the chaos. The noise died down. Tessa Carmichael moved through the crowd to the mat. “Oh, by the Seven Sister Goddesses, of course Cáel Nyilas is here.” Then, in English, “Buffy, pardon me but I think this needs my attention.” See, a good ass-reaming is done in a target’s native language. Tessa went back to Old Kingdom Hittite.“Why are there a 150 sisters outside in the hall milling around?” Tessa began. She held up her hand to truncate the various responses. “Why does it look like you are all preparing for a general melee? Lastly, why are Buffy and Cáel even here? You would think that after his last episod

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Wicca is the art of sensing energy and flowing with it: in reality everything changes, everything is moving, and interdependent. Here an avowed Wiccan Priestess talks about this much maligned form of spiritual practice and celebrations. It's a form of spirituality that understands that everything is alive and is communicating with you when you develop ears and heart to hear. Cerridwen Fallingstar refers to herself as a Shamanic Witch and has taught classes in magic and ritual for over 40 years. She gives lectures tying together psychology, spirituality, history, contemporary issues, and politics. She is the author of three historical novels based on her past lives. Her books include White As Bone, Red As Blood: The Fox Sorceress (Cauldron Publications 2009), White As Bone, Red As Blood: The Storm God (Cauldron Publications 2011), The Heart of The Fire (Cauldron Publications 2021) and Broth from the Cauldron: A Wisdom Journey Through Everyday Magic (She Writes Press 2021)Interview Date: 12/7/2021   Tags: MP3, Cerridwen Fallingstar, Wicca, Wiccan, greenstone, weather, Beltane rituals, the elements, fire, wind, water, earth, calling the whales, magic, past lives, imagination, intuition, dreams, Patricia Sun, Spirituality, Ecology/Nature/Environmental

In this episode of Soul Awakenings With Madiha Sosan, Madiha interviews celebrity psychic Inbaal on her TV career, Tarot and psychic readings,  how she became Wiccan Priestess and much more.Who is Inbaal? Inbaal is an Israeli-born British psychic and Wiccan Priestess. She has been seen on television programs such as Big Brother's Little Brother, House Busters and Most Haunted. She has also been Elle magazine's astrologer in the UK and has acted as guest astrologer for Elle magazine in Japan on several occasions.Inbaal originally became interested in becoming a witch during the 1990s, sparked by a love of Tarot cards. From there she developed her skills as a psychic and tarot reader.Inbaal's contact detailsWebsite:   http://www.inbaal.comInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/inbaalpsychic/Follow Madiha SosanWebsite: www.madihasosan.com Facebook:  https://bit.ly/3rdzeWH Instagram: https://bit.ly/2r8H35K Twitter: https://bit.ly/33QBhDq Madiha's Facebook Page: https://bit.ly/3h494RN Soul Awakenings With Madiha Sosan Instagram Page: https://bit.ly/2XEaJV3 

Remembering Margot Adler Celebrating the life and legacy of Margot Adler (1946-2014) on the 75th anniversary of her birthday (April 16).  This encore of this remembrance podcast was recorded shortly after her death and includes the sharing of memories, experiences, tributes, and perspectives about this beloved Pagan Elder, Wiccan Priestess, National Public Radio radio journalist, feminist, environmentalist, scholar, social justice activist, and granddaughter of noted Austrian Jewish psychiatrist Alfred Adler. Originally broadcast on Circle Craft Study on July 29, 2014.