Archive of Our Own

In retrospect, she really should have known better. She, of all people, should have remembered that there was always more than meets the eye, and that not all those with good intentions end up doing the right thing.

Perhaps if they hadn't gone to visit her brother on campus... but they’d needed his immediate expertise on the strange symbols they had been finding on certain corpses. Her questions hadn't been completely answered –  the markings had rung a bell for Rick, but he had been too swamped with work to give the photographs more than a cursory glance.

Eventually, he had waved them off, promising to get back to them as soon as he had finished his current workload. The delay was disgruntling, but she understood where her brother was coming from. The Treses were nothing if not wholly dedicated to each of their chosen fields.

Appeased by the knowledge that Rick knew how important her job was as well, she had left the relative comfort of the Faculty Center to be greeted by the blazing midday sun. Squinting out at the sun-drenched parking lot, she found her two escorts with a companion who had been more than happy to wait for her with them.

Or, perhaps, more accurately, that person had found them.

Perhaps if Maliksi hadn't insisted on tagging along... well, it might not have prevented what had happened completely, but dealing with the consequences might have been less complicated without his presence. Still, considering his sheer tenacity, Trese was sure he would never have settled for staying behind.

The boy—man, more accurately, but the way he perked up so quickly reminded her too much of an eager adolescent—had straightened up from where he was leaning on his motorcycle, flashing her a grin worthy of a toothpaste commercial. She suspected that he had practiced that lazy way of standing up, too, perfectly calculated to send vulnerable female hearts a-flutter. ("Vulnerable" being the keyword here, a description that matched her as well as a manananggal in a salt factory.)

“Bossing!” Basilio waved at her. “Look who we found!”

“Maliksi,” she nodded stiffly, knowing all too well that he had probably found them instead. “What a coincidence that you’re here, too.”

“Isn’t it?” Maliksi grinned. “Thought I’d go for a spin along C-5 and somehow I just ended up here.”

Trese pretended not to notice the Kambal nudging each other behind him. “I hope you’ve actually been keeping yourself out of trouble this time.”

“Oh, I’ve been a very good boy,” he replied, his grin kicking up a notch.

“How was the meeting, Bossing? Was your brother able to find anything?” Crispin asked – thank goodness one of them finally remembered the actual purpose of this excursion.

“Some symbols seemed familiar to him, but a more thorough inspection will have to wait until he finishes his work,” she relayed, striding over to the back door of the car. “Let’s return to the Diabolical for now. There are a few things I want to look into that may help with the investigation.”

“A new case?” Maliksi perked up, eyes gleaming with unrestrained excitement. “What’s going on?”

Before Trese could stop him, Basilio had already launched into a rather enthusiastic explanation. “Bodies have been showing up dumped along national highways with symbols cut into their skin. Bossing thinks it might be something like that buhay na bato case we had before in Manila South Cemetery, but the markings don’t look like anything we’ve encountered so far... What?”

“Don’t go spilling out case details to just anyone, gago.” Crispin flicked his brother lightly in the forehead for her, causing Basilio to yelp. Good old reliable Crispin.

It was too late, though, for Maliksi’s curiosity had already been captured. “Maybe I could help out? Our libraries have a lot of books that even your brother wouldn’t have access to, and I pretty much grew up reading them.”

The flat rejection died on Trese’s tongue. Despite her knee-jerk instinct to decline, Maliksi made a good point. If she, for all the knowledge she had gleaned from her grandfather’s impressive collection of books, had not been able to place the symbols, then perhaps it was time to tap into a new source.

This single moment of hesitation was a window of opportunity that Maliksi leapt on. “Besides, there’s this interesting food place nearby that I’ve been wanting to try out for a while now. Why don’t we wait for Alex’s brother there? My treat.”

If “food place” hadn’t already gotten their attention, the last sentence would have sealed the deal, no further questions asked. The Kambal turned to her with twin looks of pleading that were only slightly less pathetic than the ones they had tried on her when they were much younger.

Perhaps she should have said no. If she had, the entire fiasco would have been avoided. But the sun was beating down on her and she really wanted to know what those symbols meant and the twins would sulk for the entire day if she didn’t give in...

“Alright, but it had better be a private place. No fast food restaurants,” she finally relented. The Kambal didn’t even pretend to hide their delight at her acquiescence, and she didn’t have the energy to chide them for it.

Maliksi’s grin was almost blinding. “Oh, come now. Have a little faith in me, Alex.”

“I take it back. Boys, we’re going back to the Diabolical.”

Maliksi nearly tripped over his own kickstand in his rush to keep Trese from re-entering their car. “It’s better than it looks, I swear!”

“Gayuma ni Maria?” Trese’s tone was incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oooh, I’ve heard of this place!” Basilio approached the unassuming facade of the restaurant admiringly. “Wari checks into Foursquare here all the time!”

The look Trese shot at Maliksi was drier than the La Paz Sand Dunes. Still, Maliksi was undeterred. You had to give him credit for either being incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Trese was of the opinion that it was probably both.

“Look, it’s the first time I’ve been here, too. Just give it a shot. We’re here anyway, and if you don’t like it, then we never have to go here again, alright?”

The idea of going anywhere else with Maliksi, possibly alone, sent a strange thrum of something running down her spine. Refusing to examine the reaction, she nodded curtly and headed up the small flight of stairs, allowing Crispin to open the door for her.

If anything, the interior was worse. While the restaurant’s exterior could have easily passed as any other regular establishment (save for the sign and the interesting choice of paintings in the waiting area), the interior looked as though it had been ripped straight from a Quiapo fortune teller’s stall. The slightly dim room was illuminated with fairy lights and aromatic candles that filled the room with a scent disconcertingly reminiscent of Oriol’s den. The walls were littered with love spells with an entire section dedicated to a list of aphrodisiacs, while another corner offered an array of products that included amulets, toys and suspicious bottles of liquid.

Basilio let out a low whistle, and would have made a beeline for the table full of giggling college girls by the window had Crispin not grabbed him by the collar and steered him firmly to the more secluded booth that Trese had chosen.

“Killjoy,” he muttered, but obediently slipped into the seat beside Maliksi while Crispin took up the space across the table next to Trese. One of the waitresses, a pretty girl with luminous dark eyes that made Basilio straighten up in his seat, handed them copies of the menu, and if Trese had thought that the restaurant decor was the pinnacle of the experience, the menu items quickly proved her wrong.

“Once You Go Black, You Never Go Back!” Basilio crowed, jabbing at the menu.

“Me on Top,” Crispin smirked, pointing out another of the several intriguing items that the restaurant offered.

“Tall, Dark and Handsome sounds good, too,” Maliksi chimed in, a lazy smile crawling across his face as he looked to Trese for her reaction.

She bit down on the retort, lips pursed together tightly as she focused on reading the descriptions instead of the titles.

One by one, her companions announced their respective orders to the waitress, unable to keep the laughter out of their voices. “I’ll have the baked chicken with oil and garlic,” she finally decided, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

“Please Be Careful With My Heart,” the waitress intoned dutifully, jotting it down on her pad. “Anything else?”

“That will be all, thank you,” Trese said quickly, refusing to look at anyone while the waitress read out their orders for confirmation before heading off to the kitchen.

“This is an interesting place,” Crispin observed aloud, picking at one of the rose petals covering the tabletop.

“Wanna check out the stuff they’re selling?” Basilio asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Crispin returned Basilio’s grin with an identical one. The two darted out of their seats, leaving Trese and Maliksi alone at the table.

Maliksi’s smile was a little sheepish, but contained no hint of guilt. “I didn’t know the place would be like this. Honest. I swear it on my ancestors.”

Trese only shook her head, grabbing one of the table napkins and pulling a pen from her pocket. “Let’s just get down to business.”

Her handiwork wasn’t perfect, but she managed to get the general shape of the repeating symbols found on the victims’ backs. The Kambal offered their own input once they had had their fill of prodding at the anting-antings, and between the three of them, they produced a fairly accurate copy of the markings.

All traces of Maliksi’s earlier light demeanor had disappeared when Trese passed the napkin to him. His brow furrowed, fingers hovering over the harsh slashing lines but not touching the markings.

“This is no human language,” he announced, shoulders stiff as he leaned back from the table. “You are dealing with a dangerous ritual.”

“I assumed as much, considering how these symbols were carved into the backs of the victims,” Trese confirmed, her gaze steady on him. “What do you know?”

Maliksi was uncharacteristically fidgety, his fingers twitching as though he wanted to tear the napkin into shreds. “This is no ordinary ritual to summon a horde of maligno or a certain kind of aswang. The victims are sacrifices, intended to summon a deity.”

Trese lifted her chin slightly. “We’ve encountered those before,” she said, glancing at the carefully blank faces of the Kambal. “Would you happen to know which one, exactly?”

“I... I will have to consult the others.” Maliksi’s gaze dropped to the table. “I can’t say which one, exactly, but maybe the others would know more.”

Her eyes narrowed. There was something that Maliksi was keeping from them, and considering how he was usually more than eager to offer up any assistance he could, it must be something big. The last time he had done this was when he had refused to outright admit that it had been the Madame who had influenced the stampede...

Trese’s blood ran cold in her veins at the realization.

The moment, however, was broken by the arrival of their orders. She forced herself to assume her usual impassive mask as the waitress distributed their food, but inside, her stomach was churning.

Only a select number of people would be privy to knowledge about such rituals, and even fewer would have the power and influence to carry them out. Datu Runggan had been right – there was something big brewing on the horizon, larger than anything she had ever faced before.

“Bossing? Your food’s going to get cold.”

She opened her eyes to the sight of the chicken lying before her, waiting to be consumed. Stiff fingers grasped the fork and spoon, going into the motions of slicing up the meat without really thinking.

The others also started on their respective meals in silence, but it wasn’t long until the taste of the food started up conversation once more.

“Okay, no, you have to try this,” Basilio pushed his plate out at his brother. “Dory with chocolate.”

“Are you serious?” Crispin raised his brow, lifting his fork to take a portion from Basilio’s plate. He took no less than a couple of chews before a disgusted expression crawled over his face. “Is this supposed to be some sort of culinary masterpiece? The only thing it makes me want to do is throw up.”

“Hey, I think it’s great!” Basilio pulled his plate back defensively. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Yeah, you’d have to acquire dead tastebuds first,” Crispin shook his head and sipped at his water to clear his palate, face still pulled into a grimace.

Maliksi chortled merrily at them, most of his cheer restored by the meal. “I’ll pass. I’m happy with mine,” he grinned through a mouthful of pork loin.

“How’s yours, Bossing?” Basilio asked, peering over at her dish.

She smacked her lips, trying to place the flavor. “It’s good, but it doesn’t quite taste as I expected it would. A little on the sweet side?”

“Mm, mine is kind of sweet, too,” Crispin pondered aloud, scrutinizing his chicken tenders.

“I thought it was just the beer...” Maliksi’s brow furrowed as he gave his alcohol-marinated dish a more thorough inspection.

Basilio shrugged, popping another forkful of chocolate-covered fish into his mouth. “Maybe it’s just the restaurant’s special blend. Some kind of secret sauce or something.”

Of course. Any restaurant that could come up with a dish like Basilio’s would probably be the type to put excessive sugar into their other menu offerings. Still, she couldn’t completely shake the odd feeling, even after they had cleared all their main courses and went for dessert. Maliksi’s “Beat Sex Anyday” completely stole the show, and yet even Basilio and Crispin’s bickering over whose slice was bigger couldn’t distract her.

The feeling solidified into a physical sensation once they had left the restaurant. The sun was still as scorching as ever, but she knew that the heat that was overtaking her body had nothing to do with the weather.

“Hey, Bossing, you alright?” Basilio frowned, spotting her unusually flushed face. “You don’t look too good.”

“Fine,” she managed through gritted teeth, groping for the door handle. “Let’s head back to the Faculty Center. Kuya Rick’s probably—”

“Woah!” Maliksi managed to steady Trese just as her knees threatened to buckle out from underneath her. “Seriously, Alex, have you been pushing yourself too far?”

“Bossing! Damn it, she’s been working on this case non-stop,” Crispin cursed, circling around the car to support Trese. A frown pulled at his lips as his hand came up to press over her forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, but I think we should head back to be safe.”

Trese’s hand batted lightly at Crispin’s as she pushed herself away from them. “No, I need those interpretations. Whoever’s doing this could be just a few steps away from completing the ritual, and I’ll be damned if any other god gets into this realm.”

The Kambal exchanged looks over Trese’s head. Maliksi’s mouth pulled into a thin line, and the next moment, Trese had been dumped unceremoniously onto the seat of his motorcycle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Trese hissed, her leg swinging out at him.

Maliksi winced as her boot-clad foot landed a hit on his shin, but otherwise kept her firmly seated on the bike. “They can wait for your brother. I’m taking you back to the Diabolical to rest,” he announced.

“What?!” Trese snarled, fighting Maliksi’s grip. Either he was stronger than she had originally thought him to be, or they were right and she had been pushing herself too much. Not that she would ever admit it out loud.

To her dismay, the Kambal seemed to agree with the plan. “Make sure she gets there safely. Call me if anything comes up,” Crispin told Maliksi, subtle warning lacing his tone.

“Got it,” Maliksi nodded tersely, swinging his leg over the motorcycle so that he sat behind Trese, his arms caging her in.

“Don’t worry, Bossing. We’ll get those findings for you,” Basilio smiled encouragingly at her. As much as she wanted to berate them for what she clearly felt was an act of mutiny, the touch of worry in their eyes had her holding her tongue.

Begrudgingly pulling on the spare helmet handed to her, Trese tried to relax as the motorcycle began to rumble beneath her. Maliksi wasted no time in speeding off towards Congressional Avenue, and with little else left to do but hold on, Trese decided to occupy herself with thinking of all the extra chores she could assign to the Kambal once this whole affair had been dealt with.

After all, she may have given into their connived scheming, but that doesn’t mean she had to like it.

In the end, she hadn’t been able to plot out her vengeance against the conspirators. The heat had concentrated in the pit of her stomach, and the uncomfortable prickling from earlier had settled into the more bearable but no less distracting thrum of blood rushing through her veins. Every now and then, her head would spin without warning, causing her to shut her eyes and dig her nails into the seat of the motorcycle until the dizzy spell had passed.

To his credit, Maliksi had been making good on his word to Crispin. He seemed to notice each bout of vertigo that she went through, and made sure to slow down the bike and move at a steady pace until she had recovered from each one. Between the moments of disequilibrium, he spurred his bike on at speeds that she strongly suspected were toeing the legal limit. She might have cared more, too, if she wasn’t feeling so strange.

Even though it was probably his fault that she had mysteriously gotten sick in the first place (it had to be food poisoning, probably something in the oil or the way the chicken had been baked), she really was grateful for him. He managed to weave through the traffic as easy as breathing, reflexes sharp without making any quick turns or swerves that might have caused her to throw up.

She might have actually thanked him, too, if her senses weren’t suddenly focused on him. The broad expanse of muscle against her back; the arms that kept her in place on the seat; the warmth that radiated from him and seeped into her, adding to the heat that already plagued her – all of these things suddenly seemed so important, so intensely magnified that she swore she could feel him breathe even beyond the helmets that they wore.

The motorcycle rumbled beneath her, roaring with each revolution of the engine. All of a sudden, the vibrations seemed to course against where the apex of her legs was pressed against the seat; her attempt to shift away only caused her to bump against Maliksi, who instinctively hunched around her, thinking she was in danger of falling off the motorcycle.

The movement served to press her harder against the seat, sending a fresh rush of sensation through her that synchronized perfectly with the pulsing of her blood. Her teeth clamped down firmly on her lower lip, suppressing the curse that threatened to spill out.

Suddenly, it all made sense – all the signs pointed to it, and she felt like a damned fool for not realizing it sooner.

The food had been doused not with secret sauce, but with a powerful aphrodisiac. Gayuma ni Maria.

“Go home, Maliksi.”

“At least let me help you in—”

“You’ve done enough. Go home.”

The back door to the Diabolical swung open, revealing a disheveled Trese with an exasperated Maliksi hot on her heels.

Hank wisely decided not to comment on the way Trese’s hair stuck up in odd places, and instead called out to catch her attention. “Bossing! Got you Biogesic. The Kambal said it wasn’t really a fever, but it might help with the pain, anyway.”

Trese seemed startled by his presence, eyes glazed over slightly as she looked over at him. She shook her head a bit, seeming to right herself before making her way to the counter.

“Thanks, Hank. I don’t think it’s something Biogesic can help with, but I’ll take the water.”

She downed the entire contents of the glass and set it back on the counter before turning to Maliksi with a frown. “As for you... Look, I’m grateful that you escorted me all the way back, really, but it’s time for you to head home. Don’t stick around and wait to catch whatever I have.”

“Food poisoning isn’t contagious!” Maliksi protested, but Trese had already stalked off towards the stairs. His attempt to pursue her was stopped by the heavy clap of a hand on his arm.

“Easy there. Bossing’s never liked anyone fussing over her, especially when she’s sick,” Hank’s tone was oddly paternal as he steered Maliksi into a bar seat. “The last time anyone’s really gotten to take care of her was when her... well, it was a long time ago.”

Maliksi let out a frustrated groan. “She’s gotta give in some time. I mean, I know it was probably my fault for convincing her to go to that restaurant in the first place, but I’m trying to make up for it! Don’t I get credit for at least that?”

Hank hummed noncommittally, taking up his usual place behind the counter and pulling out a dishrag.

All the while, Maliksi continued his tirade. “I save her life, I try to give her free time from her cases – hell, even my father thinks I like espresso now with how much I order it! I’m not asking her to fall at my feet or anything, you know. Not that she ever would, I mean, but... just a bit of leeway would be nice. Just one moment where she doesn’t shut me out like I’m some... I don’t know. Some stranger, someone that means nothing to her.”

“She lets you up to the second floor, doesn’t she?” Hank remarked, wiping down the counter.

“Still. Ugh,” Maliksi tilted his head back, staring blearily at the ceiling. “Man, it’s seriously hot. Got any water for me, Hank?”

“Distilled water on the rocks for the little prince.” Hank turned to fish out some ice from the freezer, and Maliksi snorted out a laugh, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

“Cheers,” he grinned when Hank handed him the glass of iced water, and sipped at the cool liquid contentedly.

“How is it that Bossing gets helmet hair while yours looks like nothing happened to it?” Hank pondered, taking up the dishrag again.

Maliksi lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll let you in on a little tikbalang secret: Mane and Tail, the best shampoo around.”

Hank let out a loud bark of laughter. “And for that, your water’s on the house!”

Her coat, usually a source of great comfort and protection, felt like nothing more than a nuisance as she struggled to free herself of its confines. The cloth finally fell to a dark pool on her bedroom floor, quickly followed by her pants and her tanktop. Her boots were thrown haphazardly into a corner, the socks balled up carelessly inside each shoe. Left clad only in her underwear, Trese crawled into her bed and attempted to keep herself from shattering apart.

While the removal of her clothes had offered some measure of relief, her scorching skin still felt entirely too small for her body, crawling and prickling with the desire to be touched. The heat that had settled into her abdomen was nearly unbearable – she needed release, and she needed it now.

The feeling of her own hand smoothing over her mound both relieved and intensified the pain, causing her to shut her eyes frustratedly. She rarely touched herself save to cleanse her body – there had never been enough time nor any real need to explore herself, let alone give herself pleasure. She was nothing but a vessel, a weapon, a guardian of the city she had been tasked to protect. Indulging the occasional rise of desire would contribute nothing to keeping the city safe, and so she had done away with it entirely.

Perhaps she was being punished for her arrogance, for holding herself above such base desires. Perhaps some diwata had seen it fit to punish her for spurning all intimacy and was now laughing herself sick at the sight of poor little Trese, consumed with lust and yet unable to relieve herself of it. Or perhaps some clueless humans had simply gotten their hands on some “love potion” unaware of its authenticity and unwittingly urging tables of amorous lovers into private frenzies.

No, no, she couldn’t even focus on thinking of how to shut that place down. All fragments of rationality fled in the wake of the aphrodisiac that now swept through her system. Her train of thought was reduced to one thing, and one thing only: to find release in the quickest, most satisfying way possible.

Her hand cupped her own breast, mouth falling open at the simplest brush of a finger against skin. She molded the swell of flesh beneath her palm, reveling in the pleasure that arose with each caress. Eventually, though, the dulled sensations through the cloth were not enough, so she slipped her fingers beneath the cup, thrilling in the bare touch. The tips of her fingers brushed gently over her nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak that strained against the confines of the brassiere.

The other hand smoothed over the apex of her thighs, dipping lower and lower until she was stroking right over where wetness had soaked through the cloth. Her breath hitched in a gasp as her thumb grazed over the distended nub of her center, pleasure running through her like a bolt of lightning. Bracing her feet against the mattress, she rubbed her thumb harder over the spot and finally let out a loud groan, tossing her head back in ecstasy.

This was the pleasure she sought, this was what her body was urging her to achieve, and yet it still wasn't enough. More, her body urged her as deft fingers slipped beneath the band of her underwear to touch her wet flesh directly, all of it, everything you have to give and get...

Lost so deeply in the induced lust, Trese ignored the set of heavy footsteps that approached her room, failed to notice the way the door cracked open until it was too late.

"Hey, Alex? I know you're mad, but Hank told me to bring you— oh, fuck,” Maliksi’s eyes grew wide as he stumbled back from the doorway, water sloshing all over the floor. “Fuck fuck shit, I didn't know you were— I'll just... Fuck, I'm so sorry, I—"

Anger and embarrassment swept through her at being caught in such a vulnerable position, except she wasn't entirely mad. It wasn't anger that spurred her to launch herself off the bed, forcing Maliksi to let go of the glass of water as she pulled him inside and trapped him against the back of the door. It wasn't embarrassment that had her finding so much pleasure in the way he reared back instinctively, caught in a net of arousal and surprise.

"This is all your fault, stallion," she snarled, digging her thumbs into the hollows of his throat, "and you're going to fix it."

Whatever he had to say was cut off by her lips slamming onto his, their teeth clacking painfully against each other in a violent kiss. There was nothing tender about the way she pressed her mouth against his, incisors scraping along the swell of his lower lip, nor in the way she curled her hands into the fabric of his tanktop so strongly that the seams threatened to split. Everything she did was purely driven by the lust that now had her firmly in its grip.

He almost choked against her, struggling and finally managing to pull away from the brutal contact to gasp for air. She immediately wrapped a hand around his ponytail, tugging his head back sharply to expose his throat to her mouth. Her teeth scraped across his Adam's apple, not deep enough to draw blood but suffice to leave an angry red line in its wake.

The pain snapped him out of his daze. As if suddenly remembering his own strength, he forced her away from him, pushing her back until she was sprawled out on her bed again. Still, she continued to fight his grip, forcing him to straddle her thighs and hold her wrists down with both hands just so she wouldn’t be able to lash out at him.

"Let me go!" she snarled, body bucking uselessly under his weight. "Isn't this what you've always wanted? Haven't you waited for me to throw myself at you? So what more do you want? Did you want me to beg? Did you bribe the restaurant staff to drug my food with aphrodisiac, just so I would finally give into you? Well, here's your chance, Maliksi! Get it over with so you can notch off another girl on your bedpost!"

Maliksi's throat went dry, both at the realization of what was wrong with Trese and the implications of the words she had thrown at him. "Not... not like this..." he said weakly. "I never wanted you to..."

"Fuck," she hissed, arching her back off the bed as a painful spike of arousal shot down her spine. Trese fixed him with a fierce look as her fingers wrapped around what she could reach of his wrists, nails biting into flesh. "You said you wanted to help, so help. Don't you dare lie to me or to yourself – you want this, too."

Her gaze shifted down to where his arousal was pressed against her belly, straining against the confines of the cloth. He barely stifled his groan at the appreciative way she regarded his cock, lust clouding her eyes completely. A love potion, he should have known. It had been on the damned sign, for crying out loud.

She wasn't in her right state of mind, and they both knew it, but for the love of Bathala, he was just a man. Even a tikbalang could only take so much, and he was fast approaching his limit. The way she had launched himself at him, a few articles shy of being completely naked, forcing him into a kiss and taunting him when he tried to hold back...

His hands trembled around her wrists, sweat beading along his forehead with the strain. "Tell me you want this," he rasped. "Not because of the aphrodisiac, not because you just want this over with."

"You bastard—" she cursed, but he cut her off with an intense look of his own.

"Tell me, Alexandra, because once you say it, I'm not going to hold myself back anymore. You won't be able to take it back."

There was a precarious moment of silence with nothing but their breathing resounding in the space between them. Trese's scowl met Maliksi's tense expression, their gazes never faltering from each other, neither one willing to back down.

And then, for a single instant, Maliksi's eyes softened; still with desire, still for Alexandra Trese, but they also hinted of a sincere longing beyond what mere lust could incite.

She was enraptured. "I want this,” she whispered, gazing up into dark eyes. “I want you."

This time, it was Maliksi’s lips that came crashing down on hers. Trese’s pleased moan was lost into the caverns of his mouth, echoing against the hard press of tongue and teeth. Her arms wound themselves around his neck, holding him close as her body rose off the bed to press her yielding curves against the solid length of him.

Perhaps food poisoning was contagious after all; the same heat that had been plaguing her now seemed to burn him up as well. His head spun with the alluring scent of her, the feeling of her flesh yielding beneath his hands, the sound of her panting breaths and stifled moans, the taste of skin and sweat on his tongue, the sight of her sprawled out beneath him, pupils blown up wide with desire for him.

His lips trailed down her jaw, searing open-mouthed kisses down the smooth line of her throat to the valley between her breasts. One hand caressed the flesh of her thigh while the other slid underneath her torso to find the fastenings of her bra. Clever fingers worked the hook open, and within seconds the material slid off her arms, leaving the upper half of her body completely bare to his gaze.

“Beautiful,” Maliksi muttered, eyes glittering possessively as he drank the image of her in. His head dipped to her breast, capturing one rose-tipped peak in his mouth and reveling in the loud groan that the movement elicited. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, urged on by her hand winding into his hair and pressing him closer.

Far from being a passive lover, Trese was determined to give as good as she was getting, now that they were beyond the point of no return. The hand that wasn’t entangled in his hair pulled at his tanktop again; her tugging was so insistent that he was forced to lift his head away from her just to pull the offending material off.

The moment the tanktop disappeared over the edge of the bed, she grabbed hold of him and rolled them over so that their positions were switched. He found himself blinking somewhat dazedly up at her, fascinated by the way her tongue ran over her bottom lip before she bent down to scrape her teeth gently over his nipple, fingers pinching and teasing its twin into hardness.

“Shit!” he bucked up against her, caught off-guard by the resulting jolt of pleasure-pain. No one had really thought of paying attention to those particular areas before. The sight of him probably amused her, for there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she flicked her tongue over the erect tip before straightening up.

There was something incredibly arousing about the sight of her straddling his hips, the late afternoon light filtering in through the windows to highlight the curves and dips of her mostly bare form. It was a scene ripped straight from his deepest fantasies, the ones he only allowed himself to indulge in the confines of his private rooms, thinking it would be a long time coming before they ever happened in reality.

For all the trouble it had caused, a not-so-small part of him thought that the love potion might have done some good, but he’d never dare admit that out loud—

“Take it off,” she barked out the command, hands tugging sharply at his waistband. Immediately, he scrambled to obey, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of the pants as best as he could without dislodging her.

The sensation of warm air on his freed erection made him shiver, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of her hand wrapping around his length. It was all he could do to keep from bucking her off the bed; his toes curled into her sheets, hands clenching her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he ground his hips up against the resistance of her palm. His member grew more turgid under her ministrations, and her eyes remained steady on his face as she urged him towards completion.

The arousal built up painfully to the point where he mouthed her name needily, whispering pleas for release.

“Alex. Alex, please,” he whined, rocking furiously into her hand in a desperate attempt to find the additional friction he needed.

She gave no reply, still watching him fixedly as her hand slowed down to an unhurried pace. He released a growl of frustration and turned his attention to dragging his thumb to her still covered center – she wasn’t the only one that could dish out what he was getting.

The moment his thumb pressed down on the nub at the apex of her folds, she stiffened. Despite losing his only source of friction, Maliksi smirked as he pushed again, listening to her groan and feeling wetness spread beneath his touch.

Her thighs trembled around his waist, hips torn between shifting away and pressing harder against his hand. She gave no protest as Maliksi sat up underneath her, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and dragging it down her thighs. With the last of her clothes stripped away, there was nothing left to keep her from the full onslaught of his attentions. In a heartbeat, his mouth pressed against the hollow of her throat as his fingers delved into her.

It was a strange sensation to be stretched apart from the inside, muscles she had never used before suddenly flaring to life. She clutched at his shoulder blades as his digits slid in to the hilt, barely allowing her a moment to acclimate before they began a steady rhythm of stretching and thrusting.

The heat that coiled in her belly only intensified with each push of his fingers into her core. Unwilling to be the only one on the receiving end, she reached between them and began stroking his hardness once more, pumping the length of him before pinching the tip and beginning the cycle all over again. However, it still wasn’t enough – her head spun with her need for release, her sheer want for him in the fullest sense.

It almost killed her to make him stop, grabbing his wrist and moving herself away. For a moment, he stared up at her in confusion, but quickly understood what she was planning when she braced herself against him and fitted his cock to her entrance.

Her eyes found his just as the head of his member began to part her folds. “Just a bit of warning,” she breathed, a barely perceptible shake in her voice, “I haven’t really done this before.”

And then she was sliding down on him, gritting her teeth as her inner muscles were forced apart by his girth. To her surprise, the sensation wasn’t really painful so much as simply foreign, but she pushed herself along anyway. It seemed like forever before he was fully seated inside her; she grunted as her hips finally met his, brow furrowed at the pressure of being stretched so wide open.

Though he was still stunned by her announcement, he couldn’t hold back the low moan as her heat engulfed him completely. She was tight, almost impossibly so, and she felt so very good around him. He trembled with the effort of holding himself back from jerking up into her, knowing she still needed the time to adjust, especially since this was her first...

His stomach clenched at the thought. Heaven knew how badly he wanted to, though.

“Fuck, Alex,” he hissed, shoulders rolling back into the sharp bite of her nails. “I can’t—”

“Hush, Maliksi,” Trese panted. “I’m taking this at my pace.”

It was so very like her to get her way even in a situation like this one. He might have laughed if she didn’t start to rock herself along him, her hips beginning a pattern of rising and falling. Much as he wanted to slam into her and take her as his instincts were screaming at him to, he limited himself to running his hands along her thighs, fingers tracing the slope of her back and the curve of her ass.

At first, her movements were tentative, but as she grew used to the sensation of his cock inside her, she also grew bolder. After every few strokes, she sank him in to the hilt and rolled her hips in a circle, lids fluttering as he hit her innermost depths. Her efforts were well-received, if the way he leaned up to catch her in an open-mouthed kiss was any indication.

A shift in the angle of her movement had the head of his cock brushing against a spot deep inside of her, one that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She gasped into his mouth, and he must have felt the way her walls flexed around him for he held perfectly still against her as she began rocking again, trying to elicit the same reaction from her body.

However, no matter how furiously she rolled her hips along him, whichever way she twisted her body, the spot remained elusive to her. Tears of frustration built at the corners of her eyes, thighs burning with exertion and abdomen aching with unfulfillment. He felt so good inside of her, but it wasn’t enough to send her over the edge.

“Let me,” he rasped into her ear, fingertips clenching tight around her waist. “Alex, let me... I promise I’ll take care of it. I’ll help you, just let me...”

The painful burn of lust had her nodding, desperate for release. The moment her consent was given, he rolled them both over, laying her flat on her back and settling over her without ever breaking their connection. He leaned back on his heels, hands splayed over her abdomen as he began to thrust into her.

Unlike Trese, Maliksi’s movements were deep and sure, each merciless ram of his hips rocking her to the core. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, a backdrop to their crescendo of moans and grunts. His eyes gleamed as he watched her beneath him, shoulders dipped back against the mattress, full breasts bouncing with each slam. He flicked at her clit with his thumb, taking pleasure in the way her breath caught and her back arched right off the bed.

Still, she wasn’t the only one affected by their fucking. With each downstroke, she clenched her inner muscles around his cock, causing him to growl deep and low. One hand raked thin lines of red down his forearm while the other reached out to press against his sensitive nipples, flicking in time with his ministrations to her clit.

To his surprise, he felt his control slipping, the glamor shimmering in and out of existence. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to keep up the illusion. No other woman had managed to reduce him to this, and it was breaking him bodily.

“Let go,” she hissed, and he met her gaze, dark brown irises reduced to a thin rim of color around her pupils. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Teetering on the edge as he already was, he didn’t need much more encouragement to let go of the glamor. He could see himself changing, the humanoid form giving way to his true bestial appearance. His cock grew even more immense inside her, stretching her walls to what seemed like their limit and forcing her to spread her legs wider to accommodate him. Her eyes grew wide at the sensation, a faint noise escaping her as she struggled to catch her breath. He filled her to capacity, so much that she swore she could feel each vein pulsating through his length.

For a moment, he sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily as he watched her regarding him. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like this, but it was the first time a female outside his tribe had seen him intimately in his true form. He was no fool – tikbalang often had to force human females to bear their children, let alone mate with them. He’d never cared about it before, never thought much of human girls beyond playthings, and yet something held him back from continuing before she could get a good look at him.

The look in her eyes never changed. If anything, the lust in her eyes intensified, possibly fueled by the release of magic that came with taking down his glamor. She pushed herself up from the bed, curling her hands into his mane as she clamped her stretched walls down on his length.

Maliksi let out a powerful whinny before hunching over her, dwarfing her completely. He gave a few shallow thrusts and then let go, pounding into her with a rhythm that had them both gasping.

“Harder,” she huffed, leaning up to press herself tighter against him. “Give it all to me.”

“So good,” he growled, the rumbling in his chest sending vibrations all through her. “Alex... Alexandra...”

Her hands tugged at his mane, but the pain only served to urge him on even more. His cock and balls ached, and his body began to tremble; it wouldn’t be long now, but damned if he was the only one to reach completion. Gritting his teeth, he bent down to lave a long tongue over her breasts, one hand sliding down her taut abdomen to press hard on her clit.

His other hand went around under her to force her hips up. All of a sudden he felt so much larger than before, even after his transformation, with the head of his cock pounding her repeatedly along the very spot she had been searching for.

The overstimulation was exactly enough to give her that final needed push and she went over the edge trembling, teeth almost breaking the skin of his shoulder to muffle her moan. The vice-like clamping of her walls around him triggered his own release; he went rigid above her, a choked groan escaping him as his hot seed poured into her and filled her to the brim.

They held each other in the aftermath, muscles twitching with the last of the orgasmic tremors. He nosed at her face, brushing aside her sweaty fringe with his snout and rubbing his cheek with hers.

Trese’s hands finally let go of his mane, coming away with a long strand of his hair entwined around one finger. The sight of it made him chuckle, his chest rumbling where it was still pressed along hers.

“Guess that means you’ve tamed me,” he murmured, voice deep with satisfaction.

“As if I hadn’t already?” she raised her brow.

“You just want more favors,” he mock-accused her, finally recovering enough to withdraw from her depths. He missed the intimacy the instant they were disconnected, but compensated for it by tugging her into his arms.

“You already owe me enough, but I suppose a few more never hurt,” she mused, and pulled herself out of his embrace.

He gaped up at her as she prodded him onto his back, settling herself over him once more. “Again?”

She fixed him with a faintly reprimanding look that somehow managed to stir a fresh jolt of arousal within him. “Love potions last longer than that, and you did promise to help me, didn’t you?”

It was early evening by the time Trese came down from her room, freshly showered and dressed as usual. Her brow furrowed as she regarded her staff in the midst of setting up the club and failed to find the usual pair of twins among them.

“Hey, Bossing! Feeling better?” Hank waved at her from the counter.

“Yes. Where are the Kambal?” she asked, settling on a barstool.

“They said they got the results from your brother, but they would be a bit late because something came up,” Hank replied. “Didn’t give too many details about what it was, but they said they’d be here by opening time.”

“I see,” Trese nodded. For some reason, she didn’t feel like thinking too deeply about what must have held the Kambal up.

“They also said they tried calling you, but apparently, you weren’t picking up your phone,” Hank added, turning around to grab what looked like a freshly brewed pot of coffee.

“Must have been low on battery,” she replied, voice carefully neutral. It had been drained completely by the time she managed to relocate it. On the floor, underneath her bra.

Hank made a vague noise of acknowledgement and set a cup of coffee in front of her. Trese murmured her thanks and blew at the liquid softly while Hank went back to work. Companionable silence hung between them as Trese sipped at her coffee and Hank cleaned glasses.

“So, love potion?”

“Not a word out of you now, Sparrow.”

It was past 8 by the time she returned to the restaurant. Gayuma ni Maria was more crowded in the evening than it had been earlier in the day, and Trese briefly wondered how many of these customers were consuming aphrodisiac-laden food.

She wasted no time pretending to look for a table, instead heading straight to the counter where the cashier was waiting. The woman looked up at her with a faintly puzzled smile, but she wasn’t the one Trese was looking for.

“Yes, Ma’am? Would you like a table?” the cashier asked her leadingly.

“No. I dined here earlier and I would like to speak to the staff member that served us,” Trese replied, casting her gaze about the room.

“Is something wrong, Ma’am? Did you leave an item or were you dissatisfied with—”

“Ah, there she is. Excuse me, this won’t take a while.” Trese strode over to the stairs where the pretty waitress had been heading down from, grabbing her wrist and steering her outside.

The girl seemed completely unfazed by Trese’s appearance, much less the way she sat her down on the bench just outside the restaurant. She only looked up at Trese with those luminous eyes, long thick lashes fluttering innocuously as she blinked.

“Ninang, what are you doing here in Manila?” Trese finally asked, exasperation pulling at her features.

The girl laughed, clapping her hands in delight. “And here I was, thinking you’d never recognize me! Why, is it wrong to visit my goddaughter every now and then?”

“That’s not what you’re here for and you and I both know it,” Trese tilted her head expectantly, lips pursing in an almost petulant manner.

The girl fluffed out her hair, ebony strands catching the moonlight. “Now, don’t you pout at me like that. I was planning on making a house call to your home, but I wanted to look into my business here as well. Leaving it in the care of this family is good and well, but I’ve always been very hands on with my work, you know that.”

“You’re Maria?” Trese voiced out her realization incredulously.

“Where else do you think they get the love potions?” Maria Makiling smiled mischievously, a dimple appearing in her cheek.

Trese ran a hand through her hair frustratedly. “Ninang, you know you’re not supposed to meddle in the affairs of humans like that.”

Maria flapped her hand dismissively. “Hija, these potions only intensify feelings that are already there. If you don’t feel anything for the person you are with, then it will have no effect on you. It only lowers your inhibitions, sort of like alcohol. You run that club, don’t you? It’s essentially the same thing, only with none of the other disgusting side effects.”

“Ninang...”

“And besides,” Maria interrupted her goddaughter’s next protest, “I am the protector of lovers. Do you not trust me to watch over those I bring together in love?”

Trese could find no response to that, but she still couldn’t help feeling horrendously duped.

Maria stood up from her seat. Even at full height, the top of her head barely met Trese’s brow, but there was a knowing twinkle in her eyes that spoke of wisdom beyond ages. “He is good for you, hija. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Her head snapped up at that. “I am not!”

Maria reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Trese’s ear, smiling in a manner that might be considered motherly if not faintly patronizing. “There you go again, my fierce goddaughter. Just let your walls down every now and then, alright? The humans you protect aren’t the only ones who deserve happiness.”

Trese’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, before she shook her head and gave up on trying to formulate a response. She might be the protector of lovers, but sometimes her godmother could be even worse than older female humans when it came to setting up their unattached nieces and goddaughters. This stunt was a prime example of it.

“Ah, I’m afraid I’ve kept you for too long,” Maria remarked, amusement coloring her tone. “It looks like your escort’s here to pick you up.”

Trese blinked, bewildered, before turning to see the motorcycle roaring into the parking lot, its driver barely waiting till it had rolled to a stop before dismounting. Maliksi tugged off his helmet, eyes frantic as he searched the area. The wild look in his eyes was abated at the sight of her, and for a moment, she could not look away from him.

“Have fun, hija. I’ve heard surprisingly good things about tikbalang,” Maria whispered into her ear.

Trese whirled around, twin spots of color rising high in her cheeks as Maria giggled her way back into the restaurant. “I’ll visit tomorrow, darling!” she called out just before the door shut behind her, leaving Trese in a horrendous state of mortification.

“Was that...?” Maliksi’s brow furrowed as he came to stand next to her, peering into the glass to try and spot the woman.

“Leave it be,” Trese shook her head, grabbing him by the wrist and leading him back to the motorcycle. She felt him stiffen slightly at the unexpected contact, but otherwise did not comment on it, and for that, she was grateful.

“How did you even get here?” Maliksi asked, holding out the spare helmet for her again as he revved up the bike.

“Taxi, of course,” Trese replied, snapping the fastenings of the helmet closed before making a point of climbing onto the seat behind him.

“What? But taxis are dangerous!” Maliksi yelped, sounding scandalized.

“As if racing through Manila beyond the speed limit isn’t?” Trese retorted. “Yes, I noticed, and you are lucky you weren’t caught.”

Maliksi snorted with laughter, backing up the bike to pull out of the parking lot. “Skill, Alex, it’s all about the skill. Though I won’t deny that I’m a pretty lucky bastard.”

Even though she couldn’t see the grin on his face, she could certainly hear it. Feel it, too, with the way his chest puffed out proudly, and she knew it was for more reasons than simply getting away with overspeeding.

She couldn’t quite bring herself to scold him for it, though. Her thoughts were focused on Maria’s words and the impending danger that they all faced.

There were reasons why she had chosen to lock herself away from those things, had seen the way love could break a person. The woman who sold her child for mermaid bones; the man who promised six souls in exchange for his wife; even her father, who seemed to miss half of himself ever since her mother’s passing. The protector of a city could not afford any weaknesses.

But if Maria had been sincere, then the love potion...

She felt a hand clasp over hers where they had been folded around his waist.

Trese tightened her grip and pulled herself closer, feeling his shoulders lift with his smile.