The door creaked open an inch. She pushed it open, summoning a ball of fire to light the hotel room up.Her puppet was dead, his pants around his ankle..."Si'lat whore," she cursed. "How did that little girl kill you?"The corpse didn't answer. They never did in Zaritha's experience.She examined the dead man. He was young and fit, his body compact and muscled. She didn't see any wounds on him or smell any blood on the air. His throat was unmarred, there was no foam about his lips. She moved her. Was she serious? Would her friend do it? You could see his mind working overtime. "I wanna touch you while your doin it," he blurted out. "Tell you what, we'll play you double or quits, if you can guess whose a natural blonde just by putting your hands down our pants, we'll just blow you and we're quits. If you're wrong you gotta fit a new power shower." Fucking hell, I think, where the fuck has she got this from. He thinks, but not for long. "But you blow me either way?... Both of you, I. More

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