The Battered Lamp Chapter Eleven: The Heart of the Warrior - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Eleven: The Heart of the Warrior

The Battered Lamp by mypenname3000 Chapter Eleven: The Heart of the Warrior Copyright 2014 Notes: Thanks to b0b for beta reading this. All characters in this work of fiction are 18+. Wednesday, January 22nd “I wish my sister was healed!” Kyle demanded, cradling Fatima's head on his lap. Aaliyah closed her eyes, shuddering, “It's an enchantment. It's beyond the scope of my power.” “So you could heal her if she was hurt?” She shook her head. “Healing isn't hearth or harem.” “And neither is breaking a spell?” “No,” she whispered. “I'm sorry. I tried, but my father's commands still restrict my powers.” “So disobey him! You come from some old-school culture. Shouldn't your husband supersede your father?” “But my father is the Sheikh of the Jann Tribe. His word carries the weight of law.” A tear ran down her dusky cheek. “I am so sorry, my love.” Kyle stroked his sister's forehead. “What are we going to do?” “We have to leave, Kyle. And we cannot leave any evidence we were here,” Britney calmly said, her hand gripping Phillipa Stoddard's shoulder, forcing the Witch to stay on her knees. Kyle looked up from his sleeping sister's side. “What?” “We cannot stay here, Kyle. Our fight was loud and noisy. Even as remote as this cabin is, people must have seen the light from the Elemental and heard it's roar. We cannot leave any evidence behind. Look around. There are four dead here. We killed them. The police will investigate.” “Right,” Kyle nodded, taking a deep breath. His sister-wife ...

... barely seemed to be breathing and it was hard to concentrate on anything else. “She'll be fine, my love,” Aaliyah whispered, kneeling on the opposite side. “We can do nothing for her now. And we cannot help her if we're under arrest.” “Yeah,” he sighed. “I guess we need to wipe down fingerprints and stuff.” Aaliyah cocked her head, using her powers to understand what he said. “Right. Leave that to me.” With a wave of her hand, dust in the cabin formed into little, squat men that set about scrubbing the house. “There,” she nodded. “The outside shouldn't be that bad, it a mess out there,” Kyle said, standing up. “I'll go get my car and...” His face fell; his car was wrecked. “That's going to be a problem.” “Not really,” Fumi said; his Japanese girlfriend leaned against the doorway. “You can just have the earth swallow it up like you did with the bear.” “So how are we getting out of here then? We can't call for a cab, and we don't want to leave any traces we were here.” “How did you get here, Phillipa?” questioned Britney. “I drove,” the girl muttered, looking at the floor. “My car's parked around back. With the...” she swallowed, glancing at the corpses of Ms. Franklin and Rashawn. “With their cars.” “Then we'll crowd her car to get home,” Fumi said “Best to leave no evidence she was ever here as well.” “Do we bury their bodies?” Aaliyah asked. Kyle glanced at Ms. Franklin and shuddered. He had killed her in the heat of the moment, but seeing her cooling body lying next to her ...