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Lost Boys
3. Preacher
Summary: Horangi and Price both investigate the new girl a little more.
The author accepts that this is now going to have to be an OC because this is going to wind up being too many chapters and be too convoluted.
Words: 2.4k
CW: Dubcon bordering on noncon (that cw is going to be on all of this even when the chapter may not feature it)
Look, if they had drugged the food then she would just have to be drugged. It had been years since she had eaten such a decadent meal, the meat tearing beneath her teeth like it was candy floss. The sensation brought with it a flash of something, a memory or a dream. Her teeth sunk into the thick flesh of the throat of some animal, a feral growling in response. Maybe her little food fairies should have left her some bourbon if that was the kind of day she was going to have, dark and twisted in her head.
She liked the shirt at least, it was merch from a band she quite liked. Had almost gotten to see them live once. Maybe she'd keep it. She would have stayed with just the shirt and underwear on only it meant she kept catching sight of her practically maimed thigh. Much like with her neck, she didn't really remember it happening. Had they drugged her? She tried to figure out how, she hadn't taken anything from them.
Not much she could do to confirm or disprove anything, so she just pulled on some jeans, shoved sunglasses on and parked her ass out on a lawn chair sat on the crumbling porch, soaking up the sun as if it might cure this not hangover.
"Had fun last night new girl?"
She reluctantly peaked open one eye, lowering the sunglasses to get a look at who was talking to her. This town really was a melting pot she thought, taking in the Korean man with the amused eyes. He had a ragged scar running from his chin up through the right side of his mouth, another set on his left cheek that looked like a claw had been dragged there. That should have been the most notable thing about him, but in her current state the first prize for that went to the set of six packs he was holding. God she could use a drink.
"Turns out it was pretty forgettable actually" she drawled, having expected this kind of comment. Not like she was lying, anytime she tried to remember in detail what happened after cumming her brains out on that motorbike it was like a fog settled thick and heavy over her memories.
The man chuckled, swaggering up onto the porch with the grace of a big cat and sitting on the top step, leaning back on his arms. She considered him for a moment before simply replacing the sunglasses and leaning back to bask again. She could have kissed him when she felt a nudge against her fingers and found he was passing her a beer. When she took it he placed a hand over hers on the bottle and brought it to his mouth, popping the cap with his teeth and looking right at her all the while. Fuck this dude was weird. Everyone here was weird. But as long as he was content to lounge in the sun and split beers with her she wasn't too bothered. Not like she was particularly normal and it helped that the exchange had given her a pleasant rush of heat deep in her belly.
"König took quite a liking to you, thought he might break right through those chains."
"You work the sideshow?"
"Yes. They call me Horangi, it means tiger."
She looked down at him as he showed off his incisor, dragging his tongue across it. It was sharpened. She could not believe she had not noticed it before, even worse that she hadn't noticed he had something in his eyes. They were yellow.
"Ouch, whatever you did to manage that must have hurt."
"It did."
"Looks cool though."
He grinned and clinked his bottle to hers.
"The giant will at least settle if I can bring him back a name of the little mouse he is so taken with."
She snorted in an unladylike fashion at the idea of being thought of as a little mouse to anyone. The man had seen her for all of 20 seconds, hadn't even spoken to her. She was fairly certain if he saw her here, lounging looking like an absolute bum, drinking beer in the afternoon and internally talking herself out of maybe going for another round with the troublemakers because my God what she remembered had been a sort of absolute feral that had probably awoken something in her, then he would swiftly choose to forget about her existence.
"My government name is actually a state secret. I worked Coney Island before coming here, they used to call me Preacher," she said wryly. That nickname had stuck to her and never went away after she had lost her temper with a group of people who kept trying to convert all the attraction goers. They had promptly stopped when she had, let's say, converted one of their flock. Honestly he had seemed to thoroughly enjoy the conversion, was praying and everything.
"That must be a good story."
"Oh it is, but it's classified."
He grinned up at her like a cat, maybe one that was having fun playing with a mouse. He was having fun with her actually. He had never known the 141 to keep one of their meals alive, but he fully understood it now. Corrupting the innocent and then eating them alive lost it's shine after a while, but this girl? Oh she was dancing a delicious line between innocent and corrupted. Tough little thing, she'd not break straight away, they could take their time with her. Take her apart painfully slowly and let her fight against the fear that would inevitably start to consume her. He mused that it may be worth rocking that uneasy alliance their sideshow had with the blood suckers to take her for themselves.
"You should come see the show sometime, we are a lot more interesting than some cowboys."
"Do I get a freebie?"
"Maybe if you help us find God little Preacher we'll be inclined to waive your fee."
She laughed at that. Honestly she was relieved. This place was new, there was no way to tell how the other workers would react to some new ride operator sleeping around with the troublemakers on her first night. Boardwalks were a city unto themselves most of the time. Sideshows, the games, the rides, the beach, the shops, the troublemakers; they were all their own communities that clashed and crossed with one another. Back home it had nearly caused a blood feud when one of the sufers had shacked up with the boy running the shooting game.
"In that case I'll have you all on your knees repenting in no time."
They sat like that until the sun started to go down and she took off the sunglasses, working their way through beers and amusing themselves with flirty banter inbetween a companionable silence. Luckily she now had more than enough food that she could share snacks throughout the hours. She was pleased she had made a friend. He was pleased he had memorised her laugh so he could think about it later when he fucked his fist. Or maybe he would rile König up enough to do the hard work for him, whisper into his ear that the little mouse was called Preacher and she wasn't the least bit afraid of him yet.
Preacher for her part was relaxed enough that she didn't notice when Horangi tensed, nose twitching, before standing up.
"Better get to work little Preacher, they'll never make as much money without their tiger to scare everyone."
"Thanks for the beer, it was nice to meet you Horangi. I'll be around tomorrow, probably going to try work a day shift."
Her brows furrowed slightly when those yellow eyes of his seemed to catch something in the distance. She couldn't see anything. She was so busy trying to figure out what he was looking at that she was taken fully by surprise when he leaned over her and butted his head against her throat, rubbing against her.
"It was wonderful to meet you too, see you tomorrow."
With that he took off and she was left absolutely flabbergasted and feeling very much like Ghost had been justified calling her a slut from the way her body had reacted to it.
--
John Price thought himself a patient creature, truly he had to be to keep his little band of animals together. He knew from the moment the girl had put a hand on him that she was theirs. They needed a plaything, some little pet to dote on. Kyle had told him that when Simon and Soap had returned to the den near morning, the former quietly satisfied and the latter loudly excited, they had said they had left her alive and put her to bed. The three of them wanted to go to her again, he had told them no. They needed to back off, let her simmer a little, let him burrow under her skin as someone she could trust before they really started terrorising her. He would start now, stumble across her home while out walking Riley and strike up a conversation. Act the part of the concerned older man at the state she was no doubt in.
He considered setting fire to that plan when he watched the shifter drag his scent across her neck, taunting him with a claim against her. Perhaps he had been letting the sideshow get away with too much recently for the tiger to be this brazen. Maybe if he threw the girl down and fucked her right now on that porch it would hammer home the point that she was theirs. If it had been any of the others they would have done it as well, not as experienced with control as he was.
--
"Hi boy! Who's the prettiest dog in the world? Is it you? Oh yes it is, it is you isn't it" she cooed, lavishing pets and scritches on the German Shepard that had bounded onto to porch.
What a day she was having, full of good food, tipsy and now a visit from a dog to boot? Ten out of ten if she was honest, the sleepiness she had been feeling all day only making her feel soft and fuzzy around the edges now. She caught sight of boots coming onto the porch and looked up to find the man from the video store looking at her with a very cute nervous smile.
"Sorry about Riley here, he doesn't usually go running off like that. Seems he likes you."
"Oh no worries at all sir, he is more than welcome to run off to me anytime" she replied, cooing at the pup before standing up properly. "It was Mr Price right?"
Sir, now Sir he could work with. It sounded fantastic spilling off of her tongue.
"John is fine sweetheart."
Sweetheart, now sweetheart she could work with. Getting this handsome man on side would only be beneficial for her in the long run, she bet he was influential with the other shop owners.
Price had been hoping for a pretty little blush from her at the endearment, pushing a little when he didn't get it.
"What happened to your neck? It looks sore" he said, a picture of concern as he reached a hand over to brush his thumb gently over the larger of the marks. Soap if he had to guess for that one, it was messily done. When he eventually took her, when she got to the point of begging him to, he would bite into that delicate flesh with much more finesse. He didn't need to mark her up or rub his scent against her, his claim on her would be her own desperation to please him.
"Ah right, my neck" she sighed, probably a little too tipsy to be having this conversation with this well to do probably very conservative gentleman. "To be honest with you, it's just bad taste in men John."
There wasn't a lie she could think of that wouldn't sound like one, so she opted to just tell the truth of things in as tame a manner as she could and hope that he wasn't about to start lecturing her on pre-marital sex being a sin. It would be a shame if he turned out to be like that, she got decent vibes from him. Protective, kind.
Still no pretty little blush. Arrogant thing wasn't she, admitting what she had been doing the night before to him without any shame. It made his blood run hot, thinking of all the ways he could get her there, how hard he would have to push to have her flushed and ashamed. He lost himself in the thought for a moment, only realising when she gave the faintest whimper at his thumb now pressing into the bruise. That little noise of pain and the way her eyes went liquid staring up at him had him hard. Control John, control.
"They treat you like that again you come find me sweetheart, I'll fix you up. Been told I give a mean massage" he said, swiping his thumb past the bruise again before taking his hand away.
Oh God this absolute dilf was flirting with her. He was offering her a future massage. If Preacher was connected to any sort of God she thought They must be a very good one to send her this absolute treat. Come on, get it together girl, no soaking through your underwear over a bloody thumb brushing against a bruise. What was wrong with her today? She wasn't usually this restless.
Price knew she was going to be fighting against the residual venom in her system from the way she was reacting to him. He'd have to remind Simon and Soap to properly fuck that out of her next time, make sure she wasn't still feeling that extra little bit pliant that had her allowing someone who didn't own her rubbing their scent up against her. He shouldn't fault them really, they weren't used to keeping someone around after feeding from them and by the way she wobbled a bit they had certainly given it their best effort.
"Noted, although I'm not sure I intend for there to be a next time."
"Atta girl. C'mon Riley, I'm sure Miss...?"
"Oh, I just go by Preacher."
"I'm sure Miss Preacher will visit the shop again soon."
It was only when she tasted blood that she realised she was biting her lip hard watching him go. My God she needed a very cold shower and at this point possibly a fucking muzzle.