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Read book online «Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters by Annabelle Hawthorne (highly recommended books .txt) 📕».   Author   -   Annabelle Hawthorne



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to hear. Regardless, he’s working at the storage place right now, and he’s willing to let us look through its documents. I can’t say the same for his boss though.”

Beth stared at Lily. Where had this girl come from?

“Okay,” Beth said, closing up her computer. “Let me go pee, and we can head out.”

“Sounds good.” Lily left the room, and Beth made a quick stop in the bathroom. She bid Marco farewell and walked out to her car, Lily close on her heels with a fresh cup of coffee for herself. The two of them got into Beth’s car, and Beth put it into gear. Driving out of the parking garage, Beth noticed a Mercedes parked near the exit. Slowing her car down, she saw that Sebastien was behind the wheel, his head tilted to one side.

“What is he doing?” Beth asked.

“Don’t know. Looks like he fell asleep.” Lily sipped her coffee. “Almost looks like he was planning to follow us, doesn’t it?”

Beth looked at Lily. It sounded like the intern knew way more than she was letting on, but Lily was the reason Beth still had a job, so she kept her mouth shut. Pulling onto Main Street, she drove toward the south side of town, leaving the Mercedes behind.

Mike opened his eyes, staring at the hard dirt beneath his face. His whole body ached, the effects of marathon humping a living plant having ravaged him from head to toe. It was a familiar feeling, one that he had hoped never to experience again. Groaning, he tried to move, suddenly aware that the light was quickly fading. What he had promised would be a fast trip had suddenly turned into at least a day, and he knew the others would be worried.

“You’re finally awake.” The voice startled him, but he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see where it had come from. Closing his eyes, he wondered how long he would have to wait until he was inevitably dragged into even more trouble than he needed.

“Um, yeah.” His legs weren’t listening to him. “Uh, I need to get back to my home. My family is waiting for me.”

“You aren’t going anywhere in your condition,” the voice told him. It belonged to a woman, that much he could tell. There shouldn’t be anybody out in the forest, which immediately made him wonder if someone from the society had followed him here. “The Mandragora didn’t just exhaust you—she also took some of your life force.”

“Like my soul?” Mike asked, a queasy feeling in his gut.

“Nothing that serious. Your soul is much like your body right now. Drained to the very edge.” The sweet smell of something cooking tickled Mike’s nostrils. He took a deep whiff. It reminded him of vegetable stock. “That makes sense though. The Mandragora needed all that energy for the task ahead of it.”

“And that would be?” Mike’s fingers clenched, then relaxed. They were the only parts of his body that seemed to listen right now.

“To spread its seed. The part you coupled with used your essence to pollinate the seeds. Now it will wander as deep into the forest as it can go, eventually planting itself into the earth. It will incubate for nearly a century before forming a plant similar to the one that currently rules this section of forest.”

“And make a new Mandragora?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Soft hands tilted his face to the side, and a waterskin was pushed against his lips. “Drink this. It will help.”

Having nothing to lose, Mike took a few swallows. The cool liquid trickled down the back of his throat, warming his belly much as whiskey would. The warmth spread to his limbs, his muscles relaxing.

“Thank you,” he said. He made fists and bent his elbows slightly. “What did I just drink?”

“An extract made of rose petals, wolfsbane, and the scale of a hydra. It helps your body regenerate resources but can be quite addictive.”

“You sound like some sort of witch doctor.”

Several silent seconds passed.

“Shaman, actually,” she said. “There’s a world of difference.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, the stiffness in his back receding. “I’m super new at this and have no idea who you are.”

“My name is Zelenia, but you can call me Zel.”

He opened his eyes, and her face came into view. She had tan skin and deep brown eyes that reminded him of the garden. Her hair was braided in several places, and she wore a leathery tunic.

“What are you doing in my greenhouse?” Mike asked. “I thought nothing lived here in the forest.”

“My tribe has known for many years that the last surviving Mandragora plant was kept here,” she told him. “I was brought here once as a child, with my mentor. Emily was the one who told me I was welcome anytime.”

Mike chewed on his lip. With Emily’s passing, the geas shouldn’t have let Zel in without Mike’s permission. “And you just happened to find me?”

“Yes and no. I knew the Mandragora was getting ready to bloom, so I set up camp nearby. It only does so every five hundred years, and I wanted to document it. I heard you making quite the ruckus so arrived in time to watch you mate with the Mandragora. I wrote everything down for future generations to appreciate.” Zel rummaged around in something, then retrieved a small journal. “While you coupled with the plant, I drew a bunch of pictures.”

“That’s…oh!”

Zel held the book open for him, and he was amazed to see a phenomenal sketch of him fucking the Mandragora from behind. The detail was that of a professional artist.

“I was also able to collect quite a bit of its pollen.” The book was removed, and Mike heard the clinking of several jars. “The last time I tried to get some, things didn’t go so well for me.”

“I’ll bet.” Mike felt a small surge of strength in his arms. “I want to roll over.”

“I’ll help you.” Zel kept him steady as he flipped in place, staring up into

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