The Shoggoth howled and used some of its tentacles to reach up and pull Red off, taking chunks of its flesh with her. It raised the lycanthrope over its head, intent on smashing her against the ground when it was struck in the midsection by a tree. Not a branch, but an entire tree. Jane had ripped it out of the ground with her magical hair and had swung it with great force, knocking the Shoggoth back and causing it to drop Red. The fight was on.

Even as it begun, the Shoggoth realized that it was going to lose.

It, a creature that had once struck terror in the hearts of entire civilizations, was going to be destroyed by two young women. Jane was protected her arm and lashing out with her hair, more focused than ever before. Where the Shoggoth had dozens of tentacles, Jane had thousands of strands of hair. She whipped at the Shoggoth's flesh and beat it with whatever was available. Her follicle army did, however, part to let Red maneuver freely, clawing and biting and ripping to her animalistic heart's content. The Shoggoth did not go down without a fight, but it was losing power exponentially. Its opponents' confidence with each while the Dark One itself grew second, began to lose hope . . . something it hadn't even known it possessed.

When it was over, Jane almost felt cheated. She had expected more.

She had some new bruises and was bleeding from a cut lip, and Red was in much the same condition. But the Shoggoth finally toppled, crashing to the ground. The darkness that made it up began to melt, seeping into the earth and disappearing from sight, leaving the remains of Patrick's body behind. And around the two girls was silence. Then, a few crickets began to chirp and the world returned to normal. A demi-god had just died, but the earth was going to show no remorse at its passing. Red and Jane stared at the ground for a moment. Then Red gathered up Patrick's remains and tossed them into the woods before reverting to human form. When the body was finally found . . . IF the body was found, there would be no way to connect it back to her. She walked over and held Jane close.

“Let's go," she said.

“I think that's enough excitement for one night.

"I was hoping," Jane began, looking up into Red's eyes and biting her bottom lip, "that we might have some more excitement." Jane, much to her own surprise, still needed to work off some energy.

“You know, when we get to the hotel?"

Red shook her head, but was smiling while she did so.

"I don't think I'll EVER figure you out."

It wasn't as romantic as Jane would have liked. Neither woman had engaged in much personal grooming for weeks and both smelled like they had just been in a fight. They were bruised, battered, and Jane was still ginger with her healing arm. But nothing short of an act of God was going to keep them apart that night.

As soon as they had paid the deposit and gotten in the room, Jane had turned and with a bit of her traditional shyness returning, she slowly raised up on her toes, keeping contact with Red's eyes until the last possible second, and then kissed her. She could taste Red's sweat (and a little bit of her blood), but she couldn't remember anything feeling as good as those lips against her own.

“Are you sure you want this now?" Red asked.

"Yes," came the reply.

“I really do."

Red picked Jane up, minding her arm, and carried her over to the full-sized bed with blue-floral bedspread folded back so nicely. The room was overly cool, as motel rooms often are, with the hum of the antiquated air-conditioning unit emanating from under the window. Red lay down next to Jane, slightly to the side. As she kissed the young woman some more, she let a hand wander down Jane's front to the crotch of her jeans, squeezing her mound gently through the fabric.

Jane gasped, but obviously not from pain. She had come home to confront someone who had taken her by force. Now, she was giving herself willingly to someone far more worthy.

Jane felt Red's hand release her momentarily, then slide under the snug waist of her pants. Jane felt Red's fingers approaching the slightly fuzzed and slightly moist entrance to Jane's body. Those fingers touched the southern-most point of Jane's slot, drawing their way upward and an excruciatingly slow pace. It slid up and down, just barely entering the cleft and lighting up Jane's who body. She sent her magical hair out, removing her clothes as well as Red's leathers.

"That stuff comes in handy," Red said as Jane's hair caressed her now-bare back as it retracted to its normal length. It was actually kind of ticklish. But its silky caress didn't have nearly the effect that Red's finger was having on Jane's body. The smaller woman's skin was already getting goosebumps as she gripped her normalized hair, bucking her hips slowly against her lover's hand.

Red stopped her kiss, but withdrew only a little bit, then ran her tongue around Jane's lips. Jane tried to capture that tongue and draw it into her mouth, but Red was crafty. She kept it just out of Jane's hungry mouth until the girl's breath grew desperate and ragged.

Then there lips made contact again, they shared a jolt of electrical pleasure and their tongues danced together.

Finally Red's finger stopped skimming the surface and began exploring Jane's depths. The red headed woman sank her middle finger in and left her palm pressed against Jane's clitoral hood. Her finger pumped rapidly while her palm pumped more slowly, but they were each effective in their own way. Jane let her good arm reach around and hold Red as close as she could and still be able to breathe. And when Jane started to climax, she moaned directly into Red's mouth and that connection was so solid that no sound escaped. But a great deal of Jane's nectar escaped as she left her mark on Red's hand and the cheap hotel comforter.

Red wanted to pull back for a moment and give both girls a chance to catch their breath. Jane was having none of it. She kept kissing until they both ran out breath, and even then only parted reluctantly.