Strum: virgin captive of the billionaire demon rock star monster (The Squirm Files) (11 page)

She flopped onto her back and cuddl
ed an arm from each of her semiconscious mates who lay to either side.
Wowi
e. She was possibly not a virgin anymore.

A distant banging or drumming noise m
ade her listen closely. “What’s that?”

*
Groupies.* Bob shrugged. *They found us and they’re after Zagan. While you were doing it, I went and checked. They’re outside the door but haven’t figured out how to turn the knob.*

“What?”

He raised both shoulders in an, I have no idea why either, sort of gesture.

An idea sneaked in and clubbed her on the head. Only
problem, her men had done what they’d said. Her legs were made of rubber.

“
Dangerous Bob.”

He grunted a
yes
.

“I have a mission for you. Listen carefully.
The survival of the universe depends on you.”

While she waited for Bob to
come back, the strength returned to her poor wobbly legs. She hunted down her clothes, T-shirt, bra, and poppy stem skirt, then she pulled and clipped them on. The Book was snoring, as were her men. Waking Zagan or Karl seemed fraught with the possibility of them going sex-mad again and she needed to be free of pestiferous males to put her plan into action. Okay, cross that out, free of gorgeous men. Besides, they’d OD’d on her pheromones and would likely be worse off than her...considering how much cum they’d left on the undergrowth, the trees, on Dangerous Bob... She sighed. Everywhere really.

They probably needed IV infusions.

Meh, they were alien monsters and demons, they’d survive.

The crunch of footsteps alerted her. Bob appeared on t
he horizon, trotting toward her.

*
I propped the door open! They’re not far behind.* He gasped out a whole string of profanities as he reached her. *Here. This was all she could make. Something about demon sweat being hard to create.*

Shit.
She hadn’t thought of that. If her panties were good enough, she’d figured Zagan’s shirt would be too. The tiny bottle held only a few opalescent drops. They seemed to sizzle when she held the bottle to her ear.

“Can you hit the book from here?” She held the bottle out to Bob. Maybe she could do it but she wasn’t great at throwing. “Or we could
sneak closer?”

He
tsked, as if thinking then shook his head, mumbling out some fuckittys and fucks. *You haven’t seen how vicious that thing can be. I’ll get a little closer but you stay here. You should drape yourself on Zagan. I figure that’s your best chance at disguising his scent. Hear that?*

A gentle thunder sounded, increas
ing in volume as she listened. The ground vibrated. “Sounds like a full-on stampede.”

He cursed out the affirmative and spat to the side. *Yup.*

“Be quick.” But she watched. She had to see. This was so important.

The vial hurtled towards the book, struck, and bounced to roll an inch or so from the cover. It hadn’t shattered. Her heart lurched to a halt and she held her
breath as Bob pulled out a pistol and shot at the vial. And shot some more. And missed some more. The man had as good an aim as a drunk on a pogo stick trying to hit a urinal.

The thunder of stampeding groupies
grew louder.

“Damn.” She looked at
Zagan, then at the girls running toward them, arms waving. Screams of
Zagan
split the air and made a few frightened possums fall from the trees. Zagan. Book. Zagan. Which?

Fuckit
.
The world needed saving and he was a super-tough demon.

She sprinted toward Bob who’d
almost emptied the second revolver. She tapped his shoulder. “Give it! I can do this.”

Without a word, he gave her the pistol.

The Necrosexi-texmexicon was stirring, its eyes opening. It rose a few inches from the mud.

She unslung the
frypan. Gun in one hand, frypan in the other. She held her breath again, and aimed, knowing this was the only way. It always worked in movies. She prayed that inside a story would be the same. The frypan seemed to emit a subsonic hum and turn a mildly exciting shade of luminescent purple. The words
Virgin Steel
glowed red-hot.

Must be time for her next eye check.

She squeezed the trigger.

The bullet caromed off the
frypan and whizzed off toward the book, hit the one rock that was in the way, ricocheted,
peeeowww
, and smashed into the vial.

But when she looked over her shoulder, the girls had reached where
Zagan and Karl lay. They milled about for a few seconds, sniffing, quietly screaming then the front runner sprinted toward Virginia.

Dangerous Bob dragged her out of the way and the horde of groupies ran past.

“Zaaaaaggaaaaan!”

The Book disappeared under a writhing mass of girls. Legs, bottoms,
and arms, waved and wiggled in the air. More and more groupies piled on.

Virginia put her hand to her chest.
“Poor thing. I wouldn’t want to be under that.”

Bob laughed. The grin on his face said he’d consider it if offered.

Now, to wait and see. Would it make the portal? Would it even leave of its own accord?

Five minutes went past. The mass of girls and book had grown to
ten feet high but had stabilized. The clock was ticking.

Tick, tock.
Tick, tock. Tock. Tock. Tock.

Virginia reloaded and shot the clock.

Karl and Zagan awoke and came to stand beside her, yawning and stretching.

Twenty yards away, in the middle of the swamp, a
n electric blue portal fizzled into existence.

“We did it!
Yay! Woohoo!” She jumped into the air then bounced about like a cheerleader with too many pom poms until Karl pulled her into his arms and snuggled her against him.

“Be still. You’re making my headache worse.
We need the Sea Wolves to come through anyway.”

“Can you lure them somehow?”

“They know me. If they can they will follow my scent and return to this world.”

She cocked a dubious eyebrow.
Eww
at the scent. Everyone here today was smelly. But, if it worked, it worked.

A moment later, they arrived – tumbling, stepping
, and in Souleater’s case, riding his Harley from the portal and into the swamp. An arc of mud sprayed from his tires as he wheeled about and rode their way. When the entire pack, herd, flock thing, she really
must
ask Karl for the right term, of bikers were gathered around her and Karl, she knew it was time for the final step.

She raised her hand, the one with the gun as it added to the drama. “Now we must return the
Necrosexi-texmexicon to where it came from! Let’s all push.”

They st
rode forward in a determined line toward the ball of squealing and squirming girls.

“Your men are brave,” she told Karl.

He smiled, examining their target. “Courage is never lacking in the Sea Wolves.”

Dangerous Bob snickered and rubbed his hands together.

But where did you take hold? The huge mound of wriggling and now,
what the hell
, moaning, girls made getting a grip difficult. Why were they moaning?

“Maybe we need to try rolling? Does it matter if some of the groupies end up in another dimension?” She gl
anced at Zagan who was eyeing a few of the nearest and cutest butts on the girls.

Dayum
. Men!

“Hey!” She snapped her fingers. “Concentrate.”

“I am. I’m concentrating so hard my balls are going blue.”

Everyone but her chuckled.

And that was when Prudence Prim arrived, her black stiletto boots sinking in the soft ground, her leather skirt just long enough to show a pert ass. Her baby hippo trotted at her heels, squeaking when it stepped in a soft patch. “What in the name of the Zon is going on here?”

“Obvious, isn’t it.” Virginia frowned. “Returning an evil book to where it came from.
Plus a few odd groupies.”

“Hmm.”
She stalked about, looking at the scene from various angles. “Wait. I need clarification.” Then she squatted, helped the little hippo stand up on its hindquarters, and listened to whatever it said.

What was the world coming to when it depended on hippo philosophy? The
weight of the pistol reminded her that she still held it. Maybe she should shoot the hippo? Or some groupies? It would lighten the gun.

You
goin’ crazee?
Her inner voice asked.
Do that and I’m gone.

Finally, it was doing its job. “Wa
sn’t going to,” she said quietly. “Just wanted you here to tell me what to do.”

Silence.

I’ll call the men with strait jackets now, shall I?

She smiled. “Just wait.”

Prudence rose to her feet. “The decision is thus. No further persecution of this book will take place on Zon territory. We have decided it is a book of some consequence and it will be filed under its own genre,
Nasty world-shaking sex books,
until we decide otherwise. Unless it manifests a dirty cover which has boobies or man titty or other suggestive elements like handcuffs or crops. Ahem.” Prudence hurriedly hid her crop behind her back. “If such naughtiness occurs then it will go into a dark corner to be buried under whatever crap we can think of. That is all.” She picked up her hippo. “And now, I’m going back to my man that I have chained to my bed. Be good little Zonicans. Or else.”

She clicked her fingers and vanished.
The Sea Wolves seemed unsure what to do and looked at Virginia.

They couldn’t touch the Book?
She blinked, stunned. “What if it destroys the universe? Zagan? Karl?”

“Well.” Karl rubbed his chin. “She has a point. It hasn’t yet. Maybe it won’t. And it is a book.
It does have a place here, in a way. And the girls seem to have tamed it.” He pointed.

One of its eyes was showing and somehow she sensed happiness in the glossy
, rich redness of that weird eyeball. Dammit, the book was purring.

“Well then? We’re done?”

“In a way.” He looked over at Zagan. “Come on. We need to tell her.”

“What?”
But they wouldn’t say another word to her until the three of them were alone under the trees again. She’d checked above before joining them. A clean area of trees, luckily. “Well? What is it?”

Somehow they’d made her nervous. Being nervous with a pistol seemed bad planning so she carefully set it on the grass and then
, fumbling to find the right spot, she holstered her frypan too.

“I’ll begin.” K
arl took up a solid stance. What seemed to be sadness passed across his face before he firmed his expression into his usual unreadable one.

Shit.
“Is this something bad? As in badder than the world disappearing up its own ass?”

She indicated the Book, which was currently surrounded by a mob of
dancing girls. It was even doing a bit of a jiggle as if wanting to join in. So odd. Virginia shuddered. Eye bleach needed soon.

“Luckily, we seem to have avoided that.
” Zagan shuffled his feet. “But there’s us too.”

“Us?”
Why were they both acting suspiciously? “I thought we, as in all three of us, were now an
us
?”

“No.” The flat statement from Karl rocked her.

“No? What do you mean?”

He continued. “No
, as in we’re too dangerous for you. Ever since we entered your life, my sweetness, you’ve been almost killed most days of the week. Zagan and I have decided we must set you free. We cannot be your mates anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Yes.”
Zagan nodded, his mouth downturned. “I too am sorry.”

For all of ten seconds
, she looked from one of them to the other. This had blown her mind. Nothing was happening inside her head except an awful, eerie whistling. Empty. In her imagination, a cliff loomed closer, creeping in, like it was inviting her to throw herself off.

Fuck that. She’d beaten the
Necrosexi-whatsicon all by herself. These two...fuck.

“Well, crap.
Me too. I’m sorry too, boys.”

They blinked at her. She’d never called them boys before, of course. But right now, they were acting
just so...
stoopid
. Her anger boiled over.

Do
eeet
, said her inner voice.

F
or the first time ever, she smoothly drew her frypan. She whacked them both upside the head. The clang echoed. “If you two are ever this dumbass again, I swear I’ll...I’ll...” Fuming, she ground to a halt. She had nothing more and they knew it.

Zagan
rubbed his head. “I think she means it.”

“Yeah.”
Karl grinned. “I think it’s love.”

“You bet it is. You’re not leaving m
e. Or else.” She tossed the frypan to the ground. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she had to sniff.

“Damnation.” Karl wrenched her into his arms. She heard
Zagan step closer and he too joined the huddle.

“
Shh. We have you. I won’t leave.”

The pats and the warmth of them surrounding her let her relax and she closed her eyes and sighed. “Good.”

“You dented the frypan,” Karl murmured next to her ear before kissing her neck.

“Also good.
You can buy me a new one. It’s the first sign of True Love.”