Chapter 8:
Clingy Ex
Clint was not happy.
The only thing that kept him from being stupid in public again was that he wasn’t sure if that Aegis operator and her damned hound would be coming back. He shuddered at the memory of that monster snarling at him with her fangs bared.
After he busted that fat slob security guard over the head and set out to find the little shit that took his property he learned more about the little snot, and if half of what he heard was true, he gave serious thought to killing him.
He actually got that stupid bitch to produce milk?! And it is worth a fortune!
Currently he was hiding in a stand of trees just off a trail near a bridge on some crotchety old farmer’s property. The kid was walking towards the bridge, towards him, happily chatting with his stolen cow as she dragged a cartload of heavy-looking sacks.
Clint was furious, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that as long as the kid held her heartstone that monster could happily roll him into a ball and shove him up his own ass. Hell, that was half the reason he got her in the first place; and then she flat out refused to actually fight for him!
He remembered her telling him that she didn’t want to hurt anyone. His arms were so damn tired after he whipped her, and the more he whipped her, the madder he got. Sure she bawled and whimpered about being topless but the whip didn’t even leave a mark!
Her castigation was never enough, which is why he nearly smacked himself when he came up with another, more appropriate, punishment; one that she would most certainly feel and would definitely leave a mark.
Branding.
He had swiped an old iron from the farmer’s shed, once he held her heartstone again, he was going to force her to gather the wood for the fire herself, then make her watch as the iron rod heated to cherry red.
The thought of how she would scream once he laid into her with it made him hard.
He had never taken a monster before, the idea repulsed him. But the thought of fucking her while she screamed from the constant branding was enough to excite him more than anything ever had. He licked his lips as he drooled a bit.
“Master?”
He flinched; he had gotten too wrapped up and didn’t notice that the pair was almost on top of him.
“Hmm?” The scrawny kid responded, turning towards the monster.
Clint got a glimpse of a familiar blue light shining from an odd length of rope around his neck.
There it is! Ha! I thought the stupid shit would have at least been smart enough to hide the damned thing! He must not even realize how easy they are to steal…
“I have to pee.” He heard her say plaintively.
“Oh! Um, sure I’ll just wait here?”
She nodded happily before giving him a peck on the cheek and heading into the trees opposite Clint.
This is too perfect!
Clint waited long enough for the cow to be far enough away and have her shorts down before he made his move.
The kid didn’t know what hit him. He leapt out and swung his meaty fist straight into the startled brat’s gut. Driving the air from his lungs and dropping him.
“Ha! You stupid shit,” Clint took out a short knife and prepared to finish him if he made any sudden movements, holding it right in front of the gasping kids face as he flipped him over; “I’m gunna make you watch when I brand that bitch!”
__________
Nameless couldn’t breathe; the sucker punch had driven all of the air out of his lungs and now he was seeing spots as his vision began to darken. He found himself flat on his stomach, face in the dirt of the trail. He knew the man was talking but he couldn’t make all of it out. He was rolled onto his back and saw the knife, and then he heard one word.
Brand.
He is going to burn Milly! I have to warn her!
He began to flop around in a desperate attempt to get some air.
“Milly!” He barely wheezed out as the man roughly pinned him to the ground.
“Too late kid, her ass is mine!”
He felt a sharp tug on his neck as the man grabbed at Milly’s braid, his fingernails scratching into his neck; then another tug, then yet another.
The man’s visage twisted in puzzlement.
“The hell kinda rope is this?”
Nameless felt cool steel work its way under the braid, then another few sharp tugs.
“What the… what is this made of?” He sounded more curious than worried, but he gave a nervous glance into the trees where Milly had gone.
Nameless felt a few nicks under his chin as his assailant vigorously sawed at the unyielding cord with his inadequate blade.
“FOR SERIOUS WHAT IS THIS SHIT MADE OF!?”
There was a sudden crash in the trees to the side. And a bellowing low unlike anything either man had ever heard.
“Oh shit…”
Nameless felt the man’s weight abruptly lift off of him, Milly’s body solidly connected with Clint and sent him careening down the trail. Milly seemed to be incapable of speech at the moment, her face purple with rage. She breathed heavily through her nose.
After several deep breaths she found her voice again.
“DON”T…. EVER…. TOUCH…. MY…. MATE.…” She growled out each word separately, needing a breath between each one.
Nameless managed to stumble to his feet and take in the groaning figure nearly twenty feet down the trail.
“Milly?” He had never seen anyone look so enraged and was scared for her.
She glanced at him and tried to regain control.
But then she saw the blood on his neck and it dawned on her what the man had tried to do. Her face went from purple to white in a matter of seconds. Then, without a word she stomped over to the downed figure, and hefted him by the back of his pants and the scruff of his neck with ease.
“Milly!”
Nameless was stunned, and could only stumble after her as she carried the limply struggling man high over her head, arms slightly bent like she was hefting a sack of feathers. She clopped out onto the stone bridge then turned to one side…
And without preamble tossed him over the edge.
The drop was about twenty feet. He gave a short scream, stray branches from the side of the narrow ravine snapped as he tumbled until he struck the wet rocks at the bottom, the water of the creek doing nothing to break his fall.
There was a moment of stunned silence as Nameless gaped at Milly, who was placidly glaring down into the ravine.
The silence was broken by a low whistle from behind him.
“And that… is why you never fuck with a Minotaur’s bond-mate.”
Nameless whirled in place to find that Paul had walked up the trail from the direction they had just come, a half dozen milking pails in hand. At his side were two of his Cockatrices. Both girls looked scared of the Minotaur as she finally turned away from her victim and clip-clopped off the bridge towards them.
“Someone broke into my tool shed, figured I’d best catch up to you two. Of course, my brave little chickens were worried about me and insisted on coming along.” The bird-like girls scratched at the ground nervously with their clawed feet. Nameless nodded numbly before turning back to the approaching Milly.
“A-are you alright?” As she got closer he noticed that her face was mostly back to normal, she even smiled when he stepped towards her hesitantly.
“Better now Master.” She held out both of her arms, wanting, needing, a hug.
He obliged, eyes still bugged out and his brain not quiet caught up on everything that just happened. Their hug ended after a few moments as they heard a piteous moan come from the bridge.
“Please, that crazy cow just broke my leg… please help.”
Paul was the first to react. He stomped out towards the bridge practically imitating Milly from moments ago. His Cockatrices had a moment of panic as they realized they were now alone with the monster who had just thrown a man off a bridge.
Noticing their presence, Milly gave a friendly wave.
“Hello! My name is Milly! What’s yours?”
Both girls gave an indignant squawk before deciding that being next to Paul was safer than being next to Milly and fled to the bridge.
Milly pouted a bit.
“I was just trying to be polite…”
Nameless gave her back a comforting rub before Paul called them both over, his cockatrices none too happy with the idea.
“Well, as much as I appreciate the karmic significance of your actions, a dead body on my property would be too much hassle. So! Moon-Pie, since you put him down there, I’m going to have to insist that you drag his sorry ass back up.”
Milly looked ready to stage a revolt but after a few moments nodded; she was the only one with the strength needed to get him out after all.
She considered the best way to climb down then just shrugged and tossed both hooves over the side, landing with a thump and a startled shriek from her victim. Paul winced at the likely damage the angry girl had just done to her feet.
“Oh no fucking way! Anybody but this bitc-” The folks on the bridge heard an unpleasant crack and then a howling scream from below.
“Oh dear… it looks like both of his legs were broken from that nasty tumble…”
Milly’s tone was level, like she was commenting on whether it was going to rain that night.
Paul and nameless shared a look, the Cockatrices squawked again. His scream continued for a few moments, eventually deteriorating into angry cuss words directed at all of their mothers.
There was another sickening crunch.
“Huh… this one is broken in two places… how unfortunate.”
The indifference of her tone made Nameless cringe.
Paul let out a snort.
“Boy, if you don’t tell her otherwise that sumbitch is gunna come out of that creek in pieces.”
Nameless nodded. The man was outright wailing now.
“Milly, he’s had enough I think.” He said as loud as he dared.
“Has he? I can’t tell, his other leg might also have a second break in it, I’d better ask-”
“STOP!! P-please stop I’ll do anything…”
Milly responded, her tone matter of fact;
“Well, the first thing you’re going to do, once I ‘drag your sorry ass out of here’, as my good friend Paul put it, is apologize to my master, for hitting him. Then apologize to him again for cutting him…” Her voice grew even colder as she said the rest; “And then you are going to apologize to me, for daring to try to take me away from him. I’m not yours Clint. I never was and never will be. I belong to my Master, who you dared to put your filthy hands on, so if you are not absolutely sincere in your remorse, then regardless of what Paul has to say about it, you’re going to end up having another nasty tumble.”
Forget the look on the Wolfen’s face when she growled at him, Clint Unwin now stared into the eyes of an angry Minotaur and was convinced that of the two he would rather face Jan’s vicious teeth.
He nodded mutely at her instructions and barely let out a peep as she hefted him up the ravine and through the bushes, even when his legs were twisted in agonizing ways, he was mostly silent.
When they made it back up to on the bridge he followed her instructions and apologized profusely to everyone present, up to and including the Cockatrices who simply looked confused at his words. Fear made him sincere as he lay slumped against the stone railing.
Paul had Milly take the cart through the field and down to the cottage to unload it so that they could put Clint in it. She didn’t like leaving the men alone with the criminal, but given that he had three breaks in two legs she didn’t worry too much.
After she had left, Paul ordered his hens to watch the prisoner, they looked terrified of him but in his vulnerable state he found them to be terrifying.
Meanwhile Paul took Nameless off to one side.
“You alright boy?”
“Y-yeah, I’m worried about M-Milly.” He stuttered, the whole experience had hit him hard and he was beginning to shake.
Paul was pleased and more than a little proud that the terrified kid’s first concern was for his pet.
“She’ll be fine, believe me, the rage will pass and she’ll be right as rain. The main thing you can do to help her is to calm down a bit. She’ll pick up on your worry and it’ll only make her own worse.”
Paul tilted Nameless’s chin up to look at the scratches and cuts, when satisfied that they were superficial he pulled a flask out of his hip pocket and held it out to the boy.
“I-I don’t drink.”
“You do today; it’ll help with the nerves. Take a good pull.”
Nameless obliged and came up coughing; the liquid burned the whole way down and filled him with tingling warmth that rapidly spread throughout his limbs and to the very tips of his fingers and toes.
“Wh-what is that stuff?”
Paul gave a dark chuckle.
“Amazon brandy, watered down of course, I’m not crazy. Those feisty bitches feed it to their young straight; think it helps makes ‘em fearless, although I suspect it just gets them too stupid-drunk to be afraid.”
Nameless shook his head in disbelief, trying not to think about how badly it would have burned if it hadn’t been diluted. He wasn’t shaking anymore though, he actually felt pretty good, although his stomach still hurt where Clint had hit him.
Milly came back shortly after, and without ceremony they dumped the whimpering Clint into the cart and pulled it towards Paul’s house.
“We’ll stow this rascal in my barn, then I want you two to take the cart into town, fetch the lawkeeper and get the ice and such for the cottage.” The couple looked surprised at his instructions, he sighed and explained; “Best thing for the two of you is to get back to the business of living, longer you dwell on this silliness the harder it’ll be to shake it off, trust me. And don’t worry about-” He glanced at Clint in the cart, who stared at the back of Milly’s head like he just discovered that she was a monster girl with horns; “Never did catch yer name their fella…”
Clint huffed, unwilling to answer until Milly made to put the cart down.
“Clint! M-my name’s Clint. Please I-I made a mistake I’m sorry I’ll-”
“That’ll do.” Paul interrupting him, something in his tone made it clear that it would be unwise to continue; “Don’t worry about Clint, him and I are becoming fast friends I think, so I’ll look after him until the law arrives for ‘im.”
The pair nodded at that and soon left Paul’s farm, the empty cart in tow.
Shortly after, Paul was having a frank conversation with his new friend in the barn. Clint was slumped on the ground, his back propped against a support pillar while Paul worked his way through the pleasantries.
“Now Clint, we haven’t bin properly introduced yet, so here, I’ll start-” Paul promptly punched Clint in the jaw far harder than a man his age had any right to; “-My name is Paul Fletcher, and in my youth I was quiet the adventurer.”
He punched him again, this time there was a crunch and Clint’s nose came up bloody.
“This one time, I was a’journeying with my girl at the time, you’d like her I think; she was a Minotaur too-” Clint flinched at the word, already terrified from the beating; “Anywho, we were walking through the woods someplace I don’t recall where or why… and wouldn’t you know it, some silly fools got it into their heads to rob us. Now I’ll admit, they got the drop on me, just like you did with my young friend earlier-”
At the memory of the fear on Nameless’s face Paul socked Clint again.
“Please-” Clint earned himself another sturdy smack for that.
“Now Clint, didn’t yer momma never teach you not to interrupt yer elders? That’s not what we do in polite company! Where was I… oh that’s right, being robbed! So these yahoos come at me first cuz they think they’re smart, just like you did. See they think that if they get my girl’s heartstone they can take me for everything I got, and take her to boot!”
Paul took a moment to pinch Clint’s broken nose, not relenting until Clint had screamed himself hoarse.
“What they didn’t count on, what they weren’t smart enough to count on, was my girl being bonded to me; you see Clint-” Paul paused for a moment and gripped Clint by the side of the head tightly, forcing the blubbering man to meet his glare; “That was rude of me, do you mind if I call you Clint?” Clint found his head nodding against his will as Paul answered his own question with the hand in the man’s hair.
“That’s mighty big of you Clint! I knew we’d get along just fine! Where was I? Oh that’s right, explaining why trying to steal a bonded monster’s heartstone is about the dumbest thing a man can do in this life. Ya see, even if you took her heartstone, the soul within it belongs to her bond-mate. So all that would happen is you’d stand there, like an idiot, trying to tell an angry heifer not to protect the love of her life, which by-the-by is what happened to them fellers what tried to bushwhack me.”
Paul paused, boring into Clint’s eyes with his own.
“They’re all dead Clint.” His tone was ice.
Clint hurt in too many places not to be terrified by this man, decades his senior.
“They all got beat to death, I remember the look on the first fellers’ face, see, he managed to get hold of her stone and he turned to her and started telling her to calm down or some such nonsense and then wouldn’t you know it…” He trailed off chuckling to himself humorlessly; “Have you ever seen a Minotaur slaughter a group of bandits with their leader impaled on her horns Clint?”
This time Clint didn’t need any help from Paul to shake his head.
“It was a sight I’ll never forget, him just flopping around up their like the world’s ugliest hat, while she ran around tearing apart all of his buddies.” His voice turned sad; “She had a lot of trouble with that later; she was such a gentle soul and the memory of what she done haunted her for years… but she never regretted it, though. Not my girl. Not once.”
Clint was shivering now, his body ice cold from fear and pain. Paul continued.
“Don’t think I’m recollecting all of this to you for no reason now Clint. I may be old, but I’m still sharp; you seem the vengeful sort and maybe someday you might even be a free man again, I don’t rightly know the particulars of your legal situation. I just want to press upon you the stupidity of holding a grudge against a bonded Minotaur, because I guarantee you son, and this is an old adventurer speaking from experience-” he poked his fingers repeatedly into Clint’s chest to drive home his point; “If that heifer claps eyes on you again, you’re gunna be competing for the title of world’s ugliest hat. You followin’ me here Clint?”
Clint nodded vigorously, revenge the last thing on his mind.
Paul patted him on one broken leg.
“Good talk.”