Divide and Conquest (Grimm's Reapers Book 4) (8 page)

The Clan Normish stronghold was an underground bunker.  Booze littered the walls, everything from beers to questionable liquids in mason jars.  I was really tempted to ask about one that had a bomb drawn on the label, but I was worried they’d make me drink it.

Besides the crazy amounts of liquor, let’s talk about the insane number of gnomes living down here.  Best guess, I’d say there were at least one hundred and fifty of the stinky critters running around.  The weird part was there were no women, just men.

The bunker was more reminiscent of an ant colony, with the gnomes scurrying around talking gibberish (not gobbledygook, the language of goblins).  A few times we had to press ourselves up against the wall to avoid being trampled.  Khloros was the lucky one, getting to stay outside while we ventured down.

The gnome we were following (he still hadn’t given us his name, but I came to think of him as Fuckhead – due to every five minutes he talked about giving Roxanne a jolly good rogering) seemed to be taking us on the grand tour.  “What yer passin’ now be the armory.  We got all sorts of pointy object for killin’ in there.”  As we passed another ‘room,’ “And this be the pantry.  There’d be enough food in there to last lifetimes.”

I took his word at face value.  Gnomes tended to be a bit boisterous and boastful, always trying to make themselves out to be more than what they were.  “This is all fine and well, but why are we down here again?”

“Ya need ta meet me brothers comin’ on this adventure.  All hundred and fifty-two of ‘em!”

I heard the audible sound of a point heel stomping on the ground.  “I am not meeting one hundred and fifty two gnomes!  This is fucking ridiculous!”

“Roxanne,” Jacar used his smooth voice, “we’re already here.  We might as well try to make the best of it.”

I wasn’t going to jump into this one.  It was completely my fault we were here and if I said one word about the situation, she’d kill me.  Or make a damn good attempt at it.  So instead, “Why don’t you tell us your name first before we go through some dog and pony show?”

The proud gnome thumbed his chest.  “Me?  I’m Flintwick of the Normish.  I’d be one of the three elders ya see.”

Oh, an elder gnome, that sounded totally unimportant.  “One of three?  So do the other two have to agree to our plan before we get the support of one hundred and fifty-two gnomes?”

I could almost hear the silver lining forming around Roxanne’s head.  And then the sounds of it crashing down upon her.  “Nah lad, I’d be the oldest of the elders.  Me word goes very far with the Normish.”

That’s when we entered the final room.  It was a lot bigger than the rest, obviously a gathering hall for the clan.  Flintwick led us to the front of the room and positioned us in front of the three chairs staged on a platform.  “Stay here, the parade is about ta begin.”

Truer words were never spoken.  He gave a sharp whistle and before I knew it, a line of gnomes had formed, all with the intentions of shaking our hands.  Well that was the case for Jacar and myself.  The men of the Normish clan were quite handsy and each was grasping at ass or tit on poor Roxanne.  Oh, I’d be paying for this later.

At about the halfway point, I think another elder gnome came passing by.  He looked just as morbidly weird and creepy as Flintwick.  “Aye, the Reaper has come ta us.”

Unlike the rest of them, he seemed to be under control with his perversion towards Roxanne.  I don’t even think he copped a feel with the chesty girl to my right.  “That’d be me, the Reaper as you said.”

He observed me with his non-lazy eye.  “Yer a tad shorter than I figured, but the fire glows bright inside ya.  Follow ya inta combat the gnomes will.”

“Thanks, I think.”  He reminded me of the little green man Oz was always going about from his Star Wars movies.  “You guys know this isn’t going to be a walk in the park right?”

“Never think a gnome fears your embrace.  We know what we’d be goin’ inta.”

In that split second my respect for these cretins went up tenfold.  Each of these gross bastards knew the moment we got near the Gulag, their lives were in danger.  Yet, here they were laughing, drinking, and trying to get lucky with a hot girl.  Maybe we’d been too hard on them just because they were gnomes.

So I tried to put a cheery face on as I met the rest of the knuckleheads.  No, I wouldn’t remember many of their names, but I’d remember their spirit.  And their booze, which gave dwarven ale a run for its money.  But I’d mostly remember their spirit.

Against my better judgement, I decided to give in and let the little nerds party.  Sure we needed to get to the Gulag, but maybe I was really getting soft in my old age.  One wild night for drinking and debauchery never hurt anyone.  Besides, I needed to make things up to one particularly annoyed girl.  “Hey follow me.”

Roxanne had become numb to the gnomes harassing her and was just sitting there.  Two gnomes were fondling her breasts and she wasn’t even threatening them.  Nope, she was just sipping on her hunch punch, oblivious to them.  So when I asked her to follow me, she got up lazily and the little gnomes went crashing to the floor.  “What?”

“Hey, just follow me okay?  It’ll be worth your while.”

She sure didn’t share my enthusiasm.  When we got out into the abandoned hallway, “I’m not sure how you can top gnomes groping me, but let’s see what you got.”

So I did what I did best, I grabbed her by the waist and brought her in for the best kiss she’s had since Nome (that pun was totally intended!  Up top people, don’t leave your buddy Death hanging!).  I was providing all of the mojo, but I knew deep down she couldn’t resist.  I just kept working my magic, slowly breaking through for Soviet style iron curtain.  As my tongue engaged hers, she let go and joined the party.

Roxanne was back in the lead and grabbed me by my shirt collar.  She dragged me from the entrance to the party room back to the armory.  You could feel the burning lust filling the air around her as my plan had worked.  As soon as we were out of sight, she ripped off my coat, followed by my shirt.  The cold air on the underground gnome home didn’t even faze me.

Her clothes were off in an instant, a skill she kept from her days as a Lust demon.  Her big, beautiful breasts hung in the air like orbs of pure perfection.  I wanted nothing more than to touch them, but she slapped my hands away.  “Bad Reapers who make their girlfriends sit through gnome groping don’t get to touch these.”

“You tease!”

She slapped me across the face.  “You’ll do well to know who’s in charge Mr. Grimm.  Tonight, you’re not the master.”

Honestly, I was hardly ever in charge when it came to sex.  Roxanne was such a lustful creature that she was able to do practically whatever she wanted.  So with that in mind, when she ran her nails down my exposed chest, I knew I was in for something scary/special.  I’d seen that look in her eyes a lot when she was still a card carrying member of the Downstairs community.

She pushed me up against Lord knows what and threw a leg over my hip.  Oh yeah, I could feel the burn coming from below.  It took a split second my Death’s other scythe to be ready for action.  Screw foreplay, I wanted dessert!

“Don’t you go sticking that thing in me.  All you are allowed to do is let it get within an inch of me.  I want you to feel how close it is without touching it.”

Wait just a hot minute!  “Roxanne, that’s torture!”

A wicked grin formed over her face.  “So are gnomes grabbing your breasts all night.  I dealt with that, you can deal with this.”

She kept her leg tight, not allowing me to get away from this horrible, sexy web she’d weaved.  I was the one supposed to be giving her a good time because of all the shit I did.  When did this turn into punish Derrick hour?  She leaned in and kissed me, all the while letting the fingers of her off hand slightly brush the top of my manhood.  As the nails barely touched them, it was enough to drive a grown man to tears.

When did she get so strong?  Or maybe being driven crazy like this weakened a man?  Either way, I was stuck and not able to squirm away.  Not that I wanted to, if we’re being honest.  What she was doing to me felt amazing.  The latest brush of nails sent shivers down my spine.

My hand was so close, so I slipped a few fingers into her.  She was surprised by the move but as soaked as she was, they slid in and I began pumping.  She wouldn’t be able to say no for much longer.  The harder I worked her, the looser her leg went around me.

There was just something so sexy about her leather heel sliding across my back as I worked the old Grimm touch down below.  It’s hard to describe, but it felt so right.  Longing for that moment when our two organs met, I slipped my fingers out and quickly replaced them with something equally as pleasurable.

She let out a quick yelp.  “I didn’t say you could do that.”

“In case you forgot, you’re mine, slave.”  Her eyes widened.  “Don’t you think I ever forgot the first time we met and you tricked me into protecting you.  You’ve been mine all along.”

Meekly, “What about Astrid?  Remember you replaced me with the Nyx once before.”

I started to slowly work, feeling her muscles contract on me.  “I loved Astrid and to honor her memory and I’ll save our son.  However, when people tell the Legend of Death in the future, they’ll only speak of you as my lady.”

In that moment, we once again were one.  The orgasm that we produced was five stars all the way, but it was the moment right before that solidified us as truly inseparable.

**Oz**

The hunt was on.  A large party Imps were spotted near the stadium downtown harassing humans.  It was after two in the morning, so hopefully there would be limited liability for us.

Raphael was in the front with Jesse and I right behind him.  He slipped the ski mask up, away from his mouth, ready to give us our last minute instructions before we engaged the enemy.  “Imps, in large groups, can be tricky and a handful.  Don’t be overconfident.”

Both of us nodded and he slipped his mask back down.  With his hand, he showed us where to jump for the best position to strike, an open space right in the middle of the mob.  There may have been twenty or so of the little suckers.  He held up a closed fist, and we waited for his signal to move.

As soon as his hand opened, the three of us were off.  Father and son gracefully landed in the center of the Imp ring.  Me, I landed with all the gusto one would expect as the son of Derrick Grimm.  The moment my feet hit the ground, my celestial fire saber was ready to skewer some Imps.

The little bug eyed things saw they had an advantage in numbers and began to swarm.  Four of them came right at me, their little fangs and claws ready to do some serious damage.  I had other plans though and introduced them to my weapon.  The first one that had the unfortunate experience blew up like a grenade.  Imp gunk splattered everywhere.

Staying disciplined, I was able to keep the hurt going.  You ever get into that zone when you’re doing something?  You know, the one where every movement is exactly what you want?  I was there, slaying Imp after Imp with precise movement.  Where ever dad was, I’m sure he’d be proud of this.

And just like that, the nuisance that was harassing humans was gone.  With our work done, the three of us disappeared back into the night before anyone was the wiser.

“The Gulag be less than fifty kilometers ta our north Reaper.”  It was the elder gnome who I actually liked doing the talking.  For respect sake, I even learned his name – Farmart.  “An evil surrounds that cursed place, one not even my people ever thought ta provoke.”

“How long have you guys lived here?”

Farmart tried his best, but I don’t think counting was a gnome strong point.  “Many years, ever since we be kicked outta Shangri-La by those heathen Nyxes.  They thought they’d be better than us.”

Well gnomes weren’t present a number of years back when I stormed the place with the help of the Yeti, so that gave me some sort of time table.  “When did the Gulag fall under this cloak of evil?”

“Not that long ago.  Some knight callin’ himself Ruin took control of the prison from the angels with the help of a Minotaur see?  Clan Normish hightailed it outta the area south fer fear they’d kill us too.”

Flintwick left that part out, though I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose.  Nobody wants to admit they were booted from their land, but it added a lot of sense to why he was so eager to help.  “Probably a smart move.”  Under the tutelage of Sabrina and Balrog, Jacoby was probably pretty bad ass.  “So Flintwick tells me your clan specializes in lock picking?”

“Aye, we do.  Yer probably going ta need one of us to be breakin’ your brother out, no?”

He’d been reading my mind.  “Chances are they have both physical and celestial locks in place.  I can handle celestial, so I was hoping for a gnome or two for the physical.”

“We’d be able ta do that fer ya.”

With that final problem put to bed, we moved out.  I was at the head of this gnome army, headed towards a showdown with my son.  I didn’t really know what to expect, other than probably a total shit show.

The march with the gnomes took a bit as we couldn’t go zooming off without them.  We’d given them all the weapons Speedy had provided, which weighed the little guys down.  Ever see a gnome carrying a rocket launcher?  Me either.

So it was late in the afternoon when we got our first taste of the evil surrounding the perimeter of the Gulag.  I’d know that awful feeling anywhere.  “Son of a bitch, she’s somehow brought Tartarus here.”

The dark reddish energy field off in the distance had the distinct signature of Tartarus.  Roxanne, who’d been there before with me, concurred my feeling.  “How was she able to do such a thing?”

“If Tartarus be here, then the fiend Abaddon could be close.”  Flintwick looked like he was about to shit himself.  “Pack your bags, we must flee!”

“Come down little guy.”  I grabbed him by his coat.  “Abaddon is dead.”

His little feet were still trying to run even though he was a few feet off the ground.  “Impossible!  Nothing can kill him, so it’d be written in Shangri-La!”

“I was there and I know what I saw.  Abaddon is long gone and there’s nothing to fear except whatever the angels were holding in that place.”

I don’t know if he truly believed me, but when I put him back on the ground, he stopped trying to run.  “Ya say ya saw his death?  How can it be?”

“Long story short, an angel with excellent sword skills killed him using Lucifer’s own blade.  You should buy the book detailing that.”

His one hundred and fifty-one brothers were still looking apprehensive, but they seemed to be taking the lead from their most boisterous elder.  “Alright, I don’t think ya lie ta me.”  I really wouldn’t, honest.  “As fer what’s in those awful walls, an angel friend of mine once told me the Gulag was where they’d be keepin’ Naga and all her followers.”

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.  “Naga, as in the ancient evil dragon?  I thought Michael killed her?!”

I see by your confused faces you’d like some more detailed information into this story.  Fair enough.  A long time ago when dragons and other magical creatures (aka minor demons) roamed this world, there was a dragon so evil that even Lucifer wanted nothing to do with her.  Naga tormented the early humans of what’s now India and China, gaining a loyal number of followers in the process.  She turned her army into half-man half-dragon creatures and for a long time none stood against them.  Hell, they tried to get the Horsemen to take the job and we said no thank you.

Well after seeing her devastate for destroy the young human race, the Almighty had enough.  A legion of angels, led by Michael went to confront the creature.  Legend tells us of an epic battle between the two, one that ended with Michael’s flaming sword ripping apart the creature’s heart.  Maybe that wasn’t the whole story.

Back to present.  “The one and the same.  I can only imagine she’s got free run of the place.”

“And no one thought this was important information I needed to know in the planning stages?”  All the gnomes just looked off into space.  “Well, we’re here now, so there ain’t much we can do.”

While I looked annoyed and frankly a tad concerned, Jacar seemed all sorts of happy.  “First I test my skills against Baal and now I can confront a dragon.  How Astrid would be proud of me on this adventure.”

A few days ago that might’ve bothered me, but since my latest tryst with Roxanne, my jealousy towards him had gone out the window.  “I’m sure she is somewhere man.  Probably thinking you’re an idiot for joining up with me on this idiotic quest.”

“I would hope not!  This has been a grand adventure, worthy of myth and legend to be told generations from now.”

The thing about myths and legends is that the winning side always got to tell it from their perspective.  I silently hoped we wouldn’t be a short paragraph in Naga’s journal or a footnote in Sabrina’s world history books.  Nope, I rather the myth read ‘The Adventures of Death and Sons!’  One can dream right?

Pulling out her gun, “We can’t wait all day for something bad to happen.  Let’s bring the bad to them.”  Roxanne’s little speech rallied the gnomes who still ogled her something fierce.

I jumped on top of Khloros.  “I’m pretty sure not all of us will survive this.  Knowing that and you’ve all chosen to follow me means more than you’ll know.  Raise your weapons high and let’s go cut these assholes down to size!”

Khloros took off towards the reddish nightmare.  A loud roar of gnomes came from behind me, like a tidal wave of stinky destruction.  Being the first to break through the barrier, I saw what awaited us.  Naga’s dragon people were patrolling the area, unaware that the gnomes were coming.  Easily around seven feet tall, they looked as if someone took snake and merged them with a man.  Scaled, black eyes, and forked tongues covered them all.  The other thing of note to add was they seemed quite thin, as if they hadn’t eaten in a long time.

With scythe in hand, I butchered the first one I came to.  War always said the battle doesn’t start until the first casualty.  Well, I just made sure we were the bastards who started it.

The cold, stone prison loomed behind the dragon men and an alarm began to sound.  The fifteen to twenty that were walking around aimlessly when we first entered were soon joined by about thirty more.  My gnomes had numbers, but would it be enough?

The little guys had a solid plan though.  They rushed in greater numbers to the dragon men closest to them, firing off all sorts of ammunition from the various guns and what not.  Sure they started taking casualties, but they were relentless in attack.  Two of the foul dragons were died just under the weight of my new friends.  The dragon men were vicious warriors, but they seemed a bit off.

A rather large one jumped over a few of his brethren and landed in front of me.  “Mistresssss Naga and Massster Ruin will be pleassssed to sssssee you Reaper.”

Almighty help me, they even talked like snakes.  “Naga and my kid will ssssssee me sssssoon enough.”  I think my mocking enraged him.  Never can be too sure with naturally angry creatures.  “In the meantime, you guys are getting your asses kicked by gnomes!”

Yep he was pissed.  He drew his oversized sword and attacked.  “Rider, don’t make these creatures anymore unhinged.”

“I can’t help it old buddy!”  The two of us rode out of the way of his clumsy attack.  He left his flank opened and I opened up a nice gash on his side, letting dragon parts flop to the ground.  Two gnomes came over and lit him on fire (where did they get fire at?) and the dragon man fell to the crowd in a burning heap.

Roxanne joined us, covered in greenish goop I only assumed was their blood.  “Jacar is having the time of his life.”  Yes he was, leaving a wake of dismembered dragon men behind him.  Between him and the gnomes, it was turning into a one sided affair.  “This wasn’t nearly as hard as I assumed it would be.”

She went and jinxed it.  As soon as the words fell from her mouth I knew something bad and unplanned was coming.  And like a comet in the sky, that bad and unplanned thing was entering the battle.  Naga, the forty foot, red, fire breathing nightmare landed on the field.  She incinerated a group of gnomes that were way too close to her and grabbed another two as a snack.

Her beady green eyes found me.  “Jacoby,” she used his name not Ruin, “ssssends his regardsss.”  The serpentine voice dripped with venom.  I think this was more unnerving than seeing Abaddon for the first time.  Or at least close.

Mustering up some fake courage, “After I send you packing to the seventh circle of Hell, he can tell me himself.”