Chapter 49: Smoke and Mergers

Lucien steps into the smoke-hazed room, waving a hand in front of his face, and takes stock of the decorations lining every wall from floor to ceiling.

He whistles low and impressed. "Quite the collection."

The kitsune smiles fondly around her pipe, exhales through her nose.

"Gifts. From suitors. Ten years’ worth." she says, "Nine hundred fifty-six, in total. I treasure every single one."

"You must leave quite the impression," he says, "to build a hoard like that."

"You’ll know soon enough," she replies, "what kind of impression I make."

"That sounds a little scary."

"I can be very scary." A slow smile. "If you play your cards right."

Lucien bites his lip. "I like where this meeting is going."

Serenith groans behind him.

The kitsune taps her pipe clean and rises, winding, gown sliding around her curves like ink. "Kamiko. Owner and operator of Pooky’s Pleasure Palace."

"Lucidius," he says, easy and far too confident, "Demon Lord of the Ashlands. But you can call me Lucien."

She stares at him a long moment, then bellows a laugh.

"I like you already. Crazy, and good in bed. My favorite kind of man."

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

"It very much was."

Serenith clears her throat.

Lucien sighs.

"Unfortunately, this has to stay purely business. Your girls have already claimed most of my day."

"A pity." Kamiko sighs, forlorn. "They speak highly of you. I was hoping to see if you live up to the praise myself."

He bites his tongue hard enough to hurt. "I’d be happy to show you. But first... business."

He asks the obvious question. "Who, exactly, is Pooky?"

She goes quiet, smiles dreamily, and rises from the chaise, gown sliding off one shoulder to reveal she’s wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

"This is torture," Lucien mutters through clenched teeth.

"Be careful," Serenith warns.

Kamiko saunters closer, hips swaying like a metronome counting down his downfall.

"It’s just a fun, memorable name. Nothing personal. Purely business. Something people will remember." She presses in until he stumbles backward into a chair that seems to actively swallow him whole.

"I’m business-minded too," he manages. "And I like the way you think."

"Oh, I’m all about business." she purrs.

Kamiko puts one bare foot to his chest, gown falling fully open, and he bites down a groan hard enough to nearly draw blood.

Then she leans in to kiss him, and he, helplessly, completely captivated, leans in to meet her.

Then she blows smoke directly into his face.

He coughs, hitches, grins through watering eyes. "I’m a little new to smoke-play. Learning quickly, though."

Kamiko laughs, absolutely delighted. "You’re wonderful, Lucien. I’m going to like you."

"She’s entrancing you." Serenith yells, throwing up her hands. "With magic. Actual magic."

But Lucien is already gone.

Eyes glazed, dreamy, staring up at Kamiko as her twin tails coil slow and possessive around his arms and legs.

"Do you like me?" She asks.

He nods.

"Love me?"

He nods harder, grinning wide.

"Would you do anything for me?"

"Anything," he says, floaty, slurring, entirely enraptured by her aura.

"You’re impossible." Serenith groans.

"Then bring me everything you own." Kamiko purrs, voice honeyed, as she walks back to her seat " Every coin. A gift, to prove how much you love me."

"Yes!" Lucien answers emphatically. He leaps up and bolts for the door, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Serenith drops down directly into his path and delivers a holy backhand that knocks the entrancement clean out of him and loosens a tooth.

He staggers, blinking, clutching his jaw, and goes at her immediately.

"What the fuck what that for?" Lucien snarls.

"You!" Serenith scowls, "You let her entrance you."

Kamiko’s confused voice pulls him back.

"A–Are you all right?" she asks warily.

He whips toward her, grin gone, expression gone flat and dangerous.

"Who were you talking to?"

"That! Is not the main issue right now!" He snarls.

Kamiko startles. "How did you break out of that? Who are you, really?"

"I WAS," he says, "a really good client, a potential business partner. Maybe even a friend with benefits. Now I’m your enemy."

"Get in line." She laughs. "Enemies, competitors, I have more than I can count."

He huffs, dramatically, and storms toward the door.

"You wouldn’t happen to have saved a wolf-kin from some thugs a few days ago?" she asks, almost idly.

"What of it," he says, not stopping.

Kamiko laughs, long and delighted, disbelieving.

"You’re the madman. The one who saves damsels by taking a fist to the face. Talks to empty air." She looks him over properly for the first time. "Better looking than I expected. Didn’t expect a lunatic to be quite so skilled in bed, either."

He groans, genuinely wounded, shoulders slumping, and turns to leave anyway.

"Wait, wait, please. A moment." She catches up to him, "I apologize. I have treated you unfairly." and runs her hand slowly along his crotch, "Allow me to make it up to you."

His face brightens instantly, smolder reigniting, lips sliding into that effortless smirk.

Right up until Serenith slaps the back of his head.

"What are you—" Kamiko blinks at his sudden, violent flinch.

"No." He steels his jaw. "Not with someone who tries to brainwash me." His eyes drag over her, over the impossible amount of skin currently on display, the impossible curves, the impossible size of her chest. "Even..." It visibly pains him to say it. "Even if you’re mind-numbingly gorgeous and currently doing unholy things to my body."

She chuckles, genuinely respectful. "You filled her coffers, made my girls sing your name, and saved my favorite employee for nothing but a bruised face, one that, I must say, has healed remarkably well, for three days." She notes studying the lines of his jaw.

"And I get brain washed as a thank you." He pouts.

"Come," she says. "I’d like to hear your pitch."

"Why should I waste another second on you?"

She settles back onto the chaise. "Because I own a considerable amount of the businesses in this town, and a few more across the tribelands. If you’re doing business here, I want to be first to know. First to get involved. First to crush you if you’re a waste of the tribeland’s time." She lights her pipe. "My word. No tricks. No enchantments. Purely business." A wisp of smoke curling on her lip. "Maybe a little pleasure."

She flicks the pipe, and the smoky haze filling the room clears instantly to something bright, sharp, businesslike.

A table and a firm chair materialize between them. A bottle drifts down from a shelf, pours itself with mechanical precision, and sets itself back down.

She gestures to the seat.

Lucien’s grin comes back in full. "You should’ve led with that." He drops into the chair. "You’re going to love what I have planned for your little corner of the continent."

He cracks his knuckles. "I’m going to need paper. A lot of paper."