Swamp Kings 2 (Bayou Bishops #20)

CHAPTER TWO

“I’m fine, I’m fucking fine. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t know it was a fact!”

Kult glanced at Harlow then back at their Legendary Quantum cybertronic. “Listen. Brother ,” he began, out of fucking patience with him. He pointed at Harlow next to him while holding Legend’s death stare. “ You nearly killed him. Your own creator. This second, you’re laser-beaming me into the wall with your eyeballs, and ever since you woke up, you sound like a low-life convict stuck in a temper tantrum.” He regarded Fetch, Fathom and Fin on his right. “Tell him we damn well should be second guessing every so-called fact that comes from his extra-terrifying humanoid mouth.”

“Listen to me!” Legend yelled, coming right up to the glass on the containment cell. “The neural parasites I inherited are corrupting my system fast, they’ve embedded themselves into my code and destabilized my neural pathways which has accelerated my human integration. It’s behaving like a virus, screwing with my core functions, and Celeste’s situation is even worse—her inherited backlash power is amplifying the corruption, making it unpredictable. We. Are running. Out of time,” he swore. “If we don’t get Handy out of Kaphas and isolate this fucking… parasite, it’ll spiral out of control. And while we’re standing here, those AIs we now know exist could be hijacking a lot more than weapons and grids. They’ll come for their biggest threat—us. This kind of technology in the wrong hands means our worst nightmares. They’ll get inside our heads, turn us on each other and make us commit heinous crimes against our own families while we’re stuck inside, helplessly watching it happen. They’ll strip away memories, make us forget who we are, and use us as tools for their own sick ends. So please!” he begged, hitting the glass with his fists. “Let me go so I can stop this. I swear to every God in every universe that whatever I might fuck up cannot be worse than what is surely coming.”

The room was suddenly utterly quite in the wake of that verbal shitstorm.

“Fuck,” Harlow muttered, shaking his lowered head. “He’s right.”

“He is,” Fetch, Fathom and Fin all three said in unison, sealing the dread in Kult’s bones.

Kult remembered. “What about the Bishop. We need to tell him, about this.”

“About what?” Quantum demanded.

“He’s taking the bat bite,” Harlow said.

“The what?” Quantum wondered, lost.

“Tell him,” Kult said to Harlow.

“You remember the marsh king that was attacked by bats and overdosed on serum that their alchemist made to try and leverage the bat saliva to his advantage.”

“I recall pieces.”

“Well, he’s evolved to the point where he can bite an individual and gain any kind of cognitive gifts they have for a short time, but the part we need is how it triples the potency of the gifts in the giftee. In an effort to upgrade our human forces, we’ve thought to—”

“Have them all bitten,” he said, gold eyes flashing between them. “This is brilliant. Do you know why?” he demanded. “Because it’s nonreplicable. It gives us a real advantage. What kind of gifts are we gaining with the Marsh King?” he wondered, curious.

“Handy’s backlash power allows him to not only read but see the full potential of their gifts. And after touching the Marsh King leader, he said he was a Quantum Architect.”

“Really!” Quantum’s marvel tingled in Kult’s balls.

Harlow gave a nod. “He foresaw him able to create just about anything and Handy asked him to create his body. But it requires him to take the bite, which he was reluctant to do until his Seer mentioned they were rescuing a woman via King Rukem’s bridge, which… turned out to be loaded with bio-sensors of people needing rescuing and brought here.”

The look of bafflement was almost comical on his face. “How is that possible?”

“They’re in the business of finding gifted people and built that amazing fuckin’ virtual transit to do it. My guess is his bridge is similar.”

“So… are all the people they’re rescuing gifted?” Quantum wondered, hopeful while pacing in the containment room .

Harlow shrugged. “No idea, really.”

“We think,” Fetch announced, his tone loaded with warning. “It would be very necessary for Quantum to handle the issue with Celeste while the Bishop sorts Handy. As soon as possible.”

“What’s wrong?” Quantum demanded first.

“We have placed a containment field around her and they’ve been steadily eating through it. We need to discuss extraction methods with her. Unlike Kaphas, she’s not built with indestructible features and we’re not sure what part of her backlash powers they’re hijacking. If they aim to kill her, we can assume they’re corrupting the part of the power designed to protect her.”

Harlow wondered, “What if we use the neural inhibitors? We could flood her system with them to suppress the backlash, keep the parasites from hijacking it entirely, or at least slow them down. We’ve used them before with Kaphas.”

Quantum’s head snapped up. “No. Celeste’s system is fully human. The inhibitors would wreak havoc on her brain, shutting down more than just the backlash powers. We’d risk permanent damage—motor functions, cognitive abilities, everything could be compromised. It’s too dangerous. ”

“What if we took a hybrid approach?” Fathom suggested. “Use a weaker version of the inhibitors, just enough to dull the backlash but not completely shut her system down. We don’t need to stop it, just slow it enough for Quantum to work on isolating the neural parasites.”

All eyes returned to Quantum who was already nodding. “Yes. Slowing the backlash without shutting her system down entirely could give us the window we need to target the corruption.”

“Alright,” Harlow said, his eagerness growing. “A carefully monitored hybrid dose. If it starts shutting down too much, we pull it immediately. But if we can balance it right, it would buy us enough time to isolate the parasites and stabilize her.”

“I can calculate the right dosage,” Fathom said.

“And I can regulate her blood flow,” Fin said. “Ensure there’s no risk of clots or hemorrhaging during the extraction. I can also manipulate her bioelectric field to drain the excess energy from the parasites before they overwhelm her system. If her vital signs start to drop, I’ll use my energy transfer to boost her life force and stabilize her autonomic functions. Her body will stay under our control.”

Kult regarded Fetch. “And what will your lazy ass be doing?”

He angled a grin at him. “Fetching coffee, I suppose.”

“Guess I’ll handle the hors d’oeuvres,” Kult muttered.

“Bring Garbagio,” he said. “I’m practicing what it might feel like to be a dad.”

“A dad,” Quantum cut in, worried.

“No, I’m not pregnant,” Fetch assured. “But the question has been asked more than once if I’m capable.”

“You can’t get pregnant,” Quantum said like he was a fucking moron, making Kult laugh.

“I think it’s a figure of speech,” Harlow chuckled, though very carefully.

“I’m evolving, Father,” Fetch smiled at Quantum. “Are you proud?”

“I’ll be the proudest father to whoever opens this fucking door and gets me out of here.”

Everybody regarded each other, bringing more of Quantum’s weird human traits in the form of a snort. “An impressive stampede of indifference.”

“Allow me,” Kult said, making his way to the cell. “Daddy,” he muttered with a grin, loading his tone with lust as he input the code into the keypad. He grinned at the disgust on his face. “You caught that,” Kult mused. “You are truly evolving.”

“Dude, why are you provoking him?” Harlow shrilled to a laughing Kult. “We can’t afford you dead at this time.”

The entire room locked up with panic when Quantum went straight for Harlow and wrapped him in a bear hug then released him.

“You can thank my wife for that,” Quantum explained to an emotionally mauled Harlow. “She made me promise I’d do that the second I got out.”

Harlow eyed him, looking worried still. “Okay,” he muttered, awkward as fuck. “Just keep your death paws to yourself,” he said. “I’m good with that.”

Quantum asked, “How soon before The Bishop can create Handy’s body?”

“He’s getting the bite tonight,” Kult said. “After mandatory marriage classes.”

Quantum whipped around to Kult, perplexed as fuck. “ What ?”

“You heard right,” Harlow concurred. “By decree of all the Kings. Except you,” he added. “Every married man must attend. And before you think you’re exempt just because you’re shacked up, think again. They count that as married here.”

“These people clearly don’t know what’s at stake,” Quantum swore, dumbfounded.

“They hold the marriage bond in very high regard,” Fetch said. “Especially in times of crisis.”

“You sound glad,” Quantum tested.

“I’m… impressed,” he clarified.

“Why?”

It was Fetch’s turn to be dumbfounded. “ You hardwired me that way.”

Quantum paused, contemplating, his nod finally coming. “Right.” He regarded Kult, then Harlow. “I’m aware of its importance. I’m just more aware that it comes second to being alive. How long does it take for gifts to triple after the bite?”

Harlow regarded Kult and the triplets then shrugged. “Not sure. I can call their alchemist and find out.”

“With the new fangs he’s received, the results should be nearly instant,” Fin said, drawing Quantum’s attention.

“Fangs?”

“Yeah, we spent all night and half the morning fixing him up with a killer set like Fin’s.”

“You’ve all been busy,” he said, sounding impressed and yet confused .

“Yes, we have,” Harlow concurred, eyeing him with that odd, worried father look.

“The second the Marsh King designs Handy’s body, I’ll need the blueprint,” Quantum mused. “We can take it from there.” He regarded all of them. “I need to see my wife before we begin with Celeste.” He eyed the triplets now. “Meet me in the main lab in an hour.”

An hour. “Not exactly a fast fuck,” Kult muttered, his chuckle cut off by Quantum’s glare.

“If you don’t want your neck bones relocated in your ass cavity, I advise you never use that word in regard to my wife.” He suddenly seemed to realize. “Seems when it comes to her, my moral code takes a nosedive into first degree murder.”

Kult and Harlow exchanged glances when Quantum headed out the door with a cautious Fetch, Fathom and Fin following him.

****

“So that means we have to go,” Mary urged to Kult.

“I have Garbagio to look after, Mary. ”

“He has uncles that can babysit.”

He shook his head, not liking this bullshit. “This world of ours is on the brink of destruction and we’re all wanting to go to marriage classes?” he cried, looking at her. “ You really don’t see just how fucking moronic that is?” He watched her face slowly fall. “Baby,” he soothed, hurrying to her. “What in the world do we need these classes for? You know I’m obsessed with you, I know you’re obsessed with me.”

Her expression snapped to pissed. “Do you?”

He paused, angling his head at the clear challenge. “Do I what?”

Her eyes widened. “ Know I’m obsessed with you? What exactly gives you that idea?”

They stared at one another as he contemplated the puzzle.

“You seem to forget the hell I’ve come from,” she marveled to which he shook his head.

“I would never forget that.”

“You think I need you? That I can’t live without you?” she further dared.

The questions were so left field, he wasn’t sure how to define their puzzle shapes. “Why the fuck are you asking this? What does this have to do with marriage classes? ”

“You act like you know me, know what I feel and think but, how could you? Do we talk about those things? We fuck, yes,” she said, nodding. “But am I not more than fucking to you? I damn well am more than fucking, I know this, but do you? Do you think you’ve got some magical cock that has me spellbound, that I don’t go to sleep at night wondering how I’m going to ever scale that wall you put up around you? You can’t answer these questions because you don’t even know they exist. Well, they do exist,” she nodded a lot. “Plus, a lot more. I want in,” she demanded, her arms crossing with this new adamance. “I want inside that mile high, mile thick wall of yours. I want to be where my husband hides. Maybe I want to hide with him there, maybe I want to see why he’s hiding, maybe I want to… give his monsters a piece of my mind, maybe even a… knuckle sandwich.”

He watched her pace before him in that indignant fury, not missing the tremble in her limbs while her words tickled at his biggest, baddest locks. As usual, he found her fury so… fucking adorable, especially when she pretended it was her she cared about and not him.

“Are you just going to stand there?” she pled, hands on her hips.

“What happens if I say no, Mary? To these marriage classes?”

Her arms seemed to get tangled when she tried to rapid-fold them over her chest. “The rule says we have to attend,” she informed again, more adamantly.

He stared at her, fighting to hold back his smile. “And what happens if I still say no?”

“Well, I guess I’ll take matters into my own hands, then.”

His cock lurched at that delicious challenge. “Oh really.”

She gave sharp nods with her, “Oh really .”

He made his way to the small sofa, his cock hard as steel as he sat… then stared at her. Standing there in her little frumpy, wifey, red field of wild-flower dress . “Tell me what you hope to gain with these… marriage classes. Mary. Do you think they hold the keys to that mile high, mile thick wall you perceive around me?”

Her foot tapped nervously now. Arms still locked in place, obstinance glued so very fast to her pretty, fighting face. “I think it could teach us both things we could stand to learn.”

“What on earth makes you think that?” he softly asked .

“Well, I have the outline of the class, for one. I’m not praying this stuff into thin air . The classes cover important things like communication in times of crisis, and triggers, and the importance of emotional and physical affection etcetera.”

He moved to the opening of his jeans and undid them, ready to make a deal. Her eyes lowered, immediately locked in on the coming bargain. “I tell you what, Mary,” he said, pushing them down all the way to his ankles then taking hold of his cock in his right hand. “You come here and sit next to me while I jack off. And tell me more about these classes. And if you can convince me, we’ll go. How about that?”

She swallowed and he was sure he heard it from across the room. He sure heard the conversation her blue eyes were having with his cock. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head and prying her gaze off his dick. “One of the… bullet points in the class is taking care of the emotional things before the physical.”

“Was that for my heart or my cock, Mary?”

Her gaze flew back up to his. “Your… heart,” she whispered.

“And what happens if my heart is in my cock?”

She wet her lips, watching his fist move slowly along his dick, unlocking her arms while holding one of them. “Then… we can figure out how to… untangle them.”

He opened his knees as wide as he could, cupping his balls with his other hand. “Why do you think my heart doesn’t belong in my cock?”

“Because…” She wet her lips again, forcing her gaze up to his. “It just doesn’t.”

He rolled his hips with a groan, circling the ridge with his fingers till his balls thumped with thick lust. “It doesn’t?” he challenged silkily.

She shook her head, once again sucked into the x-rated show.

“Is your heart not in your wet pussy, Mary?” he whispered.

“No,” she gasped, unable to move her eyes from his cock now.

“So, when I fuck your tight little cunt, you don’t feel that all the way into your heart? Your blood? Your bones? Your fucking soul, Mary? Because I do,” he shuddered, ready to fuck her to pieces now. “When I fuck you, I do it with all that I am, Mary. When I shove my cock so fucking hard into your body, do you think it’s the bottom of your pussy I’m desperate to reach? That it’s just my cock I’m jamming into you as far as I can? Don’t close your eyes now , Mary. You wanted to talk about marriage? Every time I fuck you, my cock is yours. And all that is attached to it,” he said thickly, his orgasm building into a low boil. “Everything… is attached Mary.”

She covered her face with both hands and the sight of her precious hysterics brought a hot jerk to his balls. “I’m sorry,” she gasped before dropping her hands in anguished surrender and running to him. He grunted in hunger when she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “I’m sorry, you’re right, you're right.”

“Am I?” he whispered.

She pulled back and grabbed his face, her hungry mouth sending his lust in every direction. “So right,” she gasped, climbing onto his lap and raising her dress.

Kult aided her valiant attempt to escape her fashion prison, finding a million buttons down the back, mocking their raging need. “Mary,” he gushed at the outrageous barrier.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed turning so he could reach them. “Please don’t rip it,” she begged, finding his cock with her tiny hand. “I do love it.”

“Mmm, fuck,” he seethed, fighting not to yank the dress open while she strangled his dick.

“Just undo three,” she gasped.

Thank fuck. “Done,” he hurried, raising the endless fabric over her head only to find that three buttons weren’t quite enough. “Mary!”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” she cried. “One more button!”

She pulled the dress back down and Kult undid two more to be sure. He raised it over her head and when it cleared, he tossed it, only to have her gasp as it dangled from her hair.

“Holy fucking hell,” he swore, working the silky strands from the fucking button then hurling the dress across the room.

He grabbed her face and pulled her mouth to his, kissing her while she stroked his cock in both her hands. “Put it in your fucking cunt,” he nearly barked, sliding both hands into her hair and gripping till she shrieked.

He broke the kiss to watch her lower onto his dick.

“Oh God, oh God,” she gasped, sucking in breath after breath. “How are you still too big?”

He pulled her mouth back to his, kissing her as he gave a vicious buck, finding the fucking bottom of her. “Tell me when I reach your heart and soul baby,” he breathed, bucking again .

Her shriek lit his darker fuses, bringing his hips lower onto the couch. He grabbed hold of her hips, locking his gaze on her face. “This is marriage class, baby,” he whispered, forcing her on his cock like a jack hammer, her sweet little tits jerking while her moans bled into screams.

Kult wrapped her body in his arms, holding her tightly to him as he caught his breath while petting her head. “I got you,” he whispered. “I got my sweet angel.” He leaned back enough to claim her mouth still flowing with his favorite music. “ My Mary,” he croaked when she moaned and fought to touch him back. “All fucking mine. Say it.”

“All yours,” she gasped, stroking his face. “Every part, good and bad. Forever and ever and ever .”

He gripped her thick hair in his fist, moaning at those words. “You ready baby?” he shuddered, slowly moving her on his cock again.

“Yes,” she gasped, clawing his scalp and neck. “Take us to heaven.”

****

“I don’t want you to go to the classes if you don’t want to, but… do you think it’s okay if I go alone?”

Kult paused his tracing along his favorite scars on Mary’s back. “Why?” he wondered, mostly curious with his adorable human puzzle.

“Well… I would like to learn about being a wife. And… the women are… well, they’re expecting me. I may have said we were going and… may have said you were happy to.”

“Mary,” he muttered on a groan.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was before I knew I was so stupid.”

He pulled her on top of him, angling his head at her for many seconds. “Kiss me.”

Her perfect little mouth spread in a smile before lowering to his. He took extra care feeling her lips with his while letting her do most of the work. His cock thickened at the innocent way she pressed her kisses on him, like little love stamps. “I’ll go only to escort you,” he decided, earning her huge, happy gasp and kisses that made him groan with that endless Mary hunger. “But don’t think you’re going to find some key to get inside my walls.”

She shook her head with a smile, making her luscious tight curls bounce. “No key sneaking into your scary walls.”

He angled his head, smiling at her. “You’re lying,” he said, finding it utterly adorable. And exciting. “Right in front of my face.”

Her brows rose with her giggle. “I am not,” she swore.

“You are.” He slid his hands along her hair. “And you don’t even realize it. My ignorant little hero, planning to steal keys and sneak behind my walls.”

Her gaze widened with her oblivion. “Well, if I am and I’m not aware of it, you don’t have to worry.”

“No?” he wondered, hungry for her logic.

“Not at all,” she said, back to stamping his lips with her love kisses. “I’m your best friend and best friends don’t sneak anywhere or hide anything. They just always protect and love.”

He moved his hands to her ass and filled them with the firm flesh. “Baby,” he murmured, her words yanking his uglier chains. “You’re my best friend? I never had a best friend that I fucked so hard, I married her.”

“I am your very best friend,” she assured, her face serious and soft with desire. He slid his finger between her ass cheeks and stroked her cute button, watching the power he had over her.

She sucked in her breath and opened her legs, giving him full access, the gift filling him with a cruel hunger.

He forced it down, wanting to watch her as he gradually took her apart. “Let me feel you rub your sweet cunt,” he whispered, pressing the tip of his middle finger into the tight muscle.

She gasped with a tiny moan, moving her hand between them.

“Give me those little kisses while you make your sweet pussy so fucking hot.”

She moaned on his mouth, her breaths shaking as she kissed erratically while focusing on her job. He moved his finger deeper into her ass, gaining more moans as he watched her face filling with rapture.

“Feels good baby?” he whispered, opening his mouth when she got hungrier.

“Kult,” she blasted, filling his lungs with her lust.

“Yeah,” he whispered, moving his finger deeper.

She lifted her ass, her mouth opening more.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, reaching down and pulling her leg open more while nipping at her lips. “Your pretty ass is fucking my finger. I know you want my cock there, but I don’t think you’re ready. ”

“I’m ready!” she shot out. “Please.”

“Baby,” he gushed, his cock hurting for it. “Maybe I’m the one not ready.” He moved his finger faster inside her, gripping her ass cheek in his other hand.

“I want you to do it to me, Johnny. So much.”

Kult locked up for a split second then spanked her ass, fucking her deeper, faster, her cries unravelling him. “Time for my angel to come,” he growled at her mouth, spanking her again. Her orgasm hit like a perfectly timed storm, and he punished that tight cheek, lighting it on fire while she bucked against him, her mouth right on his, filling him up with every dirty secret desire while he replayed the puzzle she’d blasted in his mouth.

Johnny.

Why did she call him that?

What did that name mean to her?

What did it mean to him?

What did it mean to anything?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. But now he had to know.

But this puzzle wasn’t like normal puzzles. It was… backwards. Like he was the puzzle. And the puzzle was the answer.