>


As the report continued he frowned, wondering if he shouldn't laugh

instead. Odeon had brought her texts for the Academy's

Inquisitor-specialist students, and that evening the course's ace

instructor had spent several hours with her. Cortin, studying to

become an Inquisitor? Not only didn't it seem her style, he wouldn't

have thought her capable of the toughness or the deliberate violence it

required.



He could be wrong, he acknowledged--he'd been wrong before, about her

and other humans too--but it seemed impossible he could be that far

wrong. In his harshest moment, he couldn't truthfully call her exactly

soft . . . but on the other hand, he'd never respected her for her

resolve. He'd be astonished if she turned out to have the necessary

toughness now--but if she did, he certainly wouldn't hesitate to make

use of it. Because if she were able to pass muster as an Inquisitor at

all, the Bitch would be the Systems' best--a suitable punishment for

any of his men who managed a particularly bad foulup.



As reports continued to come in, it became clear that she was not only

excelling in her studies--Illyanov's evaluations said she was doing

quite well, which for him was extravagant praise--she was apparently

enjoying them, which Shannon found almost impossible to believe. This

was only the theoretical work, though, he reminded himself. While he

conceded that she could endure considerable pain, the question was

whether she could deliberately administer it.



And that answer would have to wait. In the meantime, he had a campaign

to plan.



* * * * *



Cortin was recovering faster than Shannon liked. That she was

recovering at all, of course, was unfortunate--but given that, he

couldn't honestly be surprised at the speed of her recovery. It looked

like her return to duty would be about the time that collection of

Special Ops men--and the woman auxiliary who'd once been his

"lover"--was complete. He was concerned about that; the necessary

limitation of his powers made him dependent on normal systems of

information, and security around the gathering was unusually tight.

Since there were similar gatherings in every Kingdom, it was obvious

the Sovereigns were planning something that promised no good for the

Brotherhood and his plans, but he couldn't find out what without taking

a risk of alerting Cortin.



Since there was nothing constructive he could do about that, he let

himself reminisce about the auxiliary. Eleanor Chang, since age

eighteen a professed Sister of the Order of the Compassionate Mother of

Succor and known as Sister Mary Piety. Shannon had a particular

dislike for that order, since they specialized in caring for seriously

wounded or ill Enforcement troopers, sometimes accompanying them as

medics.



That was Sister Piety's specialty, and she'd been handling one of its

more difficult aspects when he'd encountered her almost a year ago.

He'd been on St. Ignatius then, picking and training some of his

subordinate raid-masters, and he'd given in to the urge for some

recreation. That had taken the form of a raid on the clinic where

she'd just brought a trio of wounded from her last mission, and it was

a raid he remembered with considerable satisfaction.



The clinic was in the country, to let the troopers recover or die in

the most pleasant surroundings the Order could manage--and it was

remote enough that Shannon and his raiders could take their time, with

troopers and nuns alike. Piety caught his attention immediately, being

the youngest and most attractive of the women as well as the most

spirited, and he promptly claimed her for himself. His subordinates

were welcome to the rest.



To his satisfaction, she fought him. Not with any skill, but with

enough energy and determination to excite him as no woman had in far

too long. Stripped of her habit, she was even more attractive--and

better yet, she continued to fight, even as he pinned her arms and

forced her legs apart. Starting into her, he felt resistance that told

him his hopes of her had been fulfilled. He paused, relishing that for

some moments while he made certain adjustments to his body. He

respected courage, even in an enemy; add that she'd managed to remain a

virgin, surrounded by Enforcement troopers, and he was inclined to give

her a fair chance. Like the pre-Empire Terran game show, if she said

the magic word, she would win--not money, but her life. And her

fighting had bought her a clue to that word.



Her eyes widened as she felt the change. She struggled harder, shaking

her head and gasping negation, but her sudden panic was no match for

his strength. He rammed into her all the way, savoring the hot blood

that flowed out of her when he ruptured the membrane.



She screamed his name, winning her life--though Shannon took pleasure

in the certainty that she'd rather die. She shivered under him, her

screams gradually subsiding to sobs, until she was close to passing out

with pain and horror. Shannon could have kept her conscious, but he'd

be having her again later, and there were the troopers to play with; he

finished in a series of rapid, violent thrusts, then kissed her roughly

and pulled out.



* * * * *



"One more before we go, sweet Piety." Shannon's voice was almost

gentle; over the last six days, he'd developed an unusual--and, he

thought, delightfully perverse--fondness for the nun. It was nothing

like his feelings for Sara, his mistress; those were totally

unprecedented, not simply unusual. He couldn't pinpoint the reason he

had taken to Piety, though it probably had something to do with the

fact that she managed not to hate him. Fear, disgust, revulsion--he

could read all of those and more, even pity. But there was no hatred.



"Please," she said tiredly. "Not again . . ."



"One last time, then we will part." It was unfortunate that she no

longer fought him physically, but he'd learned to get the same

excitement from her emotional upheavals; when he picked her up and they

began to boil, he came to his full size almost immediately. "I'm

afraid there won't be a show to entertain us this time, though. Your

former companions and patients are beyond even my power to revive."

Not precisely true--it was more accurate to say he no longer thought

them worth the effort--but it was close enough for her. "Still, the

act itself should be entertaining enough."



He put her on the floor, and was starting to mount her when an

intriguing idea occurred to him. He smiled slowly and stood, picking

her up again, and carried her outside to a sweet-smelling grassy area

surrounded by peonies. He put her down again and this time lay beside

her, gently caressing, using his powers to soothe her.



There was still fear when she stared at him. "What . . . what are you

doing?"



"Making sure, sweet Piety, that this time it's you who enjoys me." Yes,

that revolted her very nicely. He stilled her beginning objection with

a long kiss, then smiled down at her, continuing both his physical

caresses and mental pressure. "I've kept you sane," he said softly.

"The refuge of insanity is one you can never take, now, and there's no

point in hoping I can't do something else equally simple. You will

remember this week clearly, and today will be by far the worst.

Because you are going to enjoy me, in the full knowledge that I'm

compelling your pleasure as thoroughly, if not in the same way, as I

compelled your pain and the others'." He smiled, running a hand down

her belly to tease thick curls. "I'm sure you've heard I can be a

skillful lover when I want, not so?"



"Yes." His compulsion was working; he could sense her starting to

relax.



"Good. I had planned to leave in a few minutes, but a proper

demonstration takes time; you'd like that, wouldn't you?"



"I . . . think so."



"You will, believe me."



* * * * *



She did, though it wasn't as easy as he'd told her or expected it would

be. He'd felt her mental strength, but her tenacity and resilience

still surprised him, finding any gap in the net of compulsion he

imposed, which made it nearly half an hour, instead of a few minutes,

before he was able to make her feel the pleasure he wanted. He paused

then, thinking. While he respected her courage, her unexpected

resistance at this late hour had irritated him, and he wanted to take

it out on her. So should he make her cooperate with him, rather than

simply remain passive and enjoy whatever attentions he chose to give

her?



He smiled slowly. Yes, that would certainly add spice, and it would

make her memories all the more painful. With the groundwork laid, that

took only a few moments, and she was eagerly returning his caresses.



He took his time with her, knowing that the thoroughness of her

enjoyment now would determine how much she suffered later. He'd told

her there would only be one more act of intercourse, so that was what

it would be. He'd said nothing, however, about details, so he played

with her, teasing her with repeated small orgasms by mouth and hand,

letting her know silently that these were only preludes. He felt--and

helped--her desire grow with each one, building into desperate need,

until she was writhing against him, begging and frantically struggling

to get him into her.



It was a temptation to reject her at this last moment, but he resisted

in the interest of future pleasure. He obliged her, giving her the

tremendous orgasm he'd teased her with--starting with his entry,

prolonging it through a coitus that would seem to her like hours, and

peaking it when his own climax sent jets of icy fire into her.



He left her body first, smiling down at her. "You liked that, didn't

you, sweet Piety?"



The nun sighed happily. "You know I did . . . does that really have to

be the last time?"



"I'm afraid so." Shannon rose, still smiling. "I've enjoyed you a

lot, but I have to get back to work, and it's time for you to report

our little party to the nearest Enforcement post. You can tell them

everything except my name and how you knew me; all they need to know on

that subject is that I'm the Raidmaster. Not just a raidmaster, the

Raidmaster. You'll be sure to point that out for me, won't you?"



"Of course."



"Very good." Shannon double-checked the barriers he'd raised to keep

her from the refuge of insanity, then he released his other

compulsions. She reacted beautifully, her expression turning from

pleasure to revulsion as she retreated from him, turning to run but

falling to her knees racked with convulsions of nausea.



* * * * *



Shannon's attention returned to his surroundings. He'd left St.

Ignatius then, thoroughly satisfied with the interlude, and memories of

Sister Piety had cheered him several times since. It was an

interlude he dared not repeat now, though. Cortin might sense

something as simple as using his power to modify his physical

attributes, and now that she was personally aware of him thanks to the

attack, she'd have to sense his use of it on others.





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