The Magician's Blood

by Linda G. Hill

  “I got the distinct impression from that conversation that what he really wanted for himself, even back then, was to have someone to take it all away from him. Not his attractiveness, but someone who would give him a reason to stop giving in.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that old habits are hard to break. But now he has you, Herman, he can finally be the man he’s always wanted to be. One with a purpose other than to sexually gratify all who would take from him whatever they could.”

  “And Margaret?”

  “She’s always been his exception. I think the best thing for her to do is exactly what she’s doing: getting out of his daily life, for everybody’s sake, not least of all her own. They’ve out-grown needing each other. Letting go will be hard.” She looked at them on the dance floor, and Herman followed her gaze. “But in the long run, they will both benefit.”

  “I wonder sometimes if he really does need me when I see them together, reading each other’s minds and knowing each other so well.”

  They were dancing slow now; Stephen said something in Margaret’s ear and she giggled. It crossed Herman’s mind to see what he was thinking again, but she decided not to press her luck. It didn’t look at all like he was thinking about being with her anymore. Besides, it felt like an invasion of privacy.

  Charlie leaned forward, pulling her attention away. “Take it from someone who’s spent a long time observing them together; there is no comparison between the way Stephen looks when he’s with her to when he’s with you. He looks at you and it’s like he has discovered a gift from heaven. He touches you and his entire being lights up. His aura when he’s with you is beautiful. And yes, that’s the witch in me talking, but as a woman of science as well, I can see what you do to him and for him. He loves you, Herman. You shouldn’t let the fact that he is a sex object to everyone else convince you otherwise.”

  Herman nodded. “Thank you. Your confidence helps.”

  “Why don’t you go and dance with him? Unless there’s anything else you want to talk to me about.”

  “Only, would you be my OBGYN?”

  Charlie smiled. “I’d be happy to. You know where to get in touch with me if you want to talk. Any time.”

  “Thanks,” Herman said. She stood and walked onto the dance floor. Neither of them saw her approach. She touched Stephen’s sleeve and he turned. Charlie was right. His face lit up when he saw her.

  “My love,” he said, reaching out for her.

  “Thank you for the dance,” he said graciously to Margaret.

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled at Herman and said, “He’s all yours.”

  Herman stepped comfortably into his embrace and looked up at him.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  I know, she thought.

  CHAPTER 22

  As their limo glided past the city lights on the way to the hotel, Herman slipped back into herself and her thoughts. Stephen was at a loss. Exhausted and emotionally drained, all he wanted was to return to the place where he felt secure—in her arms and in her good graces. He had been relieved when she made the first move to make love to him in the dressing room, even though it seemed more angry than loving.

  At the hotel, he unlocked their door and gathered her up to carry her over the threshold and across the room to the bed. Placing her down gently he beheld her, searching for a sign that the girl he’d met on the train was still in there somewhere. She lay with her arms and legs askew and her hair spread wildly over the pillow, and looked up at him, her blue eyes expressionless. What they really needed was to communicate—with words or physically, he didn’t believe it mattered, as long as they could just begin. The moment he moved again, she twitched into motion.

  “Wait,” she said, getting up. “I’ll be back in a second.” She shook her shoes off and padded into the bathroom.

  He waited for the distinctive clack of the door latch, then he sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, concentrating on the contents of a plastic bag in his suitcase. When he opened his eyes, a dozen tealight candles were arranged around the room. He stood and as he passed by them, checking that they were all placed safely, he waved his hand, wiggling his fingers over each, magically sparking twelve delicate flames. He switched off the electric light and took one last look around the room, and then returned to the end of the bed.

  Down the hall, the bathroom door opened; Herman paused in the doorway. “Is this the seduction scene?” she asked, straight faced.

  “I’d be happy if I could just seduce you into talking to me. But if you can’t manage that …” He swallowed. “I think making love would be a good idea, don’t you?”

  She stared at him wordlessly. He waited. When it didn’t seem like she would respond, he continued.

  “Herman, we need to reconnect in some way. I feel as though I’m losing you.”

  Her breath hitched, and she shook her head. “No,” she gasped. She crawled onto his lap, facing him. Her legs wrapped around him, she latched on to him like he was her lifeline.

  Speaking between sobs, she said, “You’re the only one in the world who is real to me. If I lost you, I’d be lost.”

  “Then talk to me,” he said in her ear, kissing her hair.

  “There’s nothing you can do, so there’s no point.”

  “How do you know unless you try? I may not be able to come up with any solutions, but maybe it will help just talking about it.”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. “It won’t help if it only makes you feel worse.”

  He cupped her head in his hands and stared at her, almost nose to nose. “Nothing is worse than having you drift away from me.”

  “But I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Maybe not physically. But I’m not going to stand around and do nothing while you distance yourself, emotionally, more and more.”

  She searched his eyes, thinking.

  He stroked her reddened cheek. “I feel as though we’ve lost something somewhere in the events of the last week, and I want to …” He shook his head. “We have to get it back before it’s too late.”

  “You can’t force it, Stephen.”

  He opened his mouth to say he knew he couldn’t, but she put her fingers to his mouth to quiet him, reminding him of their last lovemaking session.

  “You can’t force me to forget that you fucked Margaret’s brains out while you held me there, and you can’t force me to forget that you might do it again, to Nina. And on top of that, I’m having your baby. This should be the happiest time of my life, not the most confusing. Do you have any idea what this is doing to me inside? I have your daughter,” she pointed with both hands to her stomach, “in here. Your daughter, Stephen. I’m carrying the daughter of the man who was made just for me, who I was born to be with. But it’s your second daughter. Not your first.” She started to cry. “And then I got to be there when you did the very thing it took to get Nina and me this way, to someone else.”

  She moved to get up but he held her; he wouldn’t let her go until he had a chance to talk it through.

  “You said it yourself. You and I were made for each other. We were born to be together. I don’t love them. That’s the difference. I love you, and I would sacrifice everything for you, and for our children.”

  “Do you have any idea how typically male that sounds?” She laughed bitterly. How accurate she was: it tore at his heart. He had to explain. It had to be the truth.

  “Okay, it might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done telling you this, or it may help, in some way.” Her tear-stained cheeks and her watery eyes broke his heart. “Up until I met you, sex for me was like eating a meal. It was like …” He took a breath and looked around the room for the words. “If I had to guess, I’d say I’ve had sex with upward of around five hundred women.” Her stunned expression told him nothing, so he continued. “Few of them were friends, and only three of them did I have any real affection for.


  “Until I had you in my life, sex was a basic function. It meant nothing to me. And it still doesn’t, unless I’m making love to you. I didn’t even realize how incredible it could be, or how complete I could feel until I was with you the first time. Being inside you is like being home—a home I never fathomed could exist before I found you. I want to come home to you every night for the rest of my life.”

  Again, and without a word, she clutched him with all her strength and cried on his shoulder.

  “Tell me you don’t ever want to have sex with anyone else again,” she said when her tears subsided.

  “I don’t ever want to have sex with anyone but you until the day I die,” he said, holding her tight.

  “Can it be just the two of us tonight? I want to be alone with you.”

  He wanted that too. To banish the images in her mind.

  “Herman, look at me,” he said, and she raised her head from his shoulder, sniffing and cuffing her runny nose. “Just focus on me and the way I make you feel, and we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m afraid,” she said, her breath hitching with sobs.

  “Don’t be. I’ll look after you.” He began to unbutton his shirt. She looked down at his fingers with an expression of pain that was close to horror. “Look into my eyes.” He lifted her chin. “Do you remember our first night together?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you remember how nervous you were?”

  She nodded again and smiled a little. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “I can take you back there, to our first time. All you have to do is trust me.”

  “Just like when we’re onstage.”

  “Yes.” He stood, lifting her with him, and turned to crawl up onto the bed. He placed her head on the pillow and knelt between her legs. He opened his fly and pulled his jeans down enough to release his partially erect penis to the air. He watched her gaze drop down and back up to his face. She had never seen him this way.

  “I need you, my love.” Slowly, he stripped off his shirt, giving her a chance to breathe and to relax.

  “Take your t-shirt off,” he demanded gently.

  She hesitated, but then sat up and did as he asked. She threw it off the side of the bed and lay back down, looking at his penis as she did. It hung as it was.

  “Do you want to touch me?”

  “Yes.” She grasped his cock and squeezed and massaged it to no effect whatsoever.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “How do you keep yourself from getting hard?”

  “I’m not trying not to,” he said.

  “Don’t I turn you on anymore?” She winced, recoiling. “Don’t you love me?”

  “Love has nothing to do with sex. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. What I need from you even more than sex is to have my Herman back.” He pulled her to him to kiss her, to gently suckle her lips, to lick at her tongue and her teeth. “Tell me you want to make love to me,” he whispered.

  “I want you inside me, Stephen. Make love to me,” she breathed.

  “Touch me again.” This time he was as hard as stone.

  “Does that answer your other question?”

  She leaned into his kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulled him down on top of her.

  “Don’t be gentle. Make me feel it.”

  He kissed her neck as she spoke, biting and sucking.

  “I want to feel the power of your love,” she moaned.

  He made very sure she did.

  * * *

  Herman awoke the next morning in a state of blissful calm, feeling more secure and more in love than she had in what seemed like ages. She watched Stephen sleep until his long eyelashes twitched. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

  “My love,” he murmured, holding her close. They lay together quietly while Herman watched motes of dust play in a sliver of light that shone through an opening in the drapes. She thought about the baby and how Stephen knew of her existence, so close to the time she was conceived.

  “What does the baby feel like?” she asked. “How do you … sense her?”

  “I don’t know how to describe it, really.” He stared up at the ceiling, one arm around her as she curled her body around his. “I guess it’s like having the most infinitesimal finger touching my mind, but that tiny finger comes with a huge, concentrated energy. In a way, it’s like the energy I feel when I’m with you, except that’s equal in both directions. From my perspective, I give you as much as you give me back. With our daughter, it’s as though she could blow me away with the amount of energy she has.”

  “And how do you know she’s a girl?”

  “That I simply know. The feeling that another exists there is a physical thing, but knowing she’s a girl is more like telepathy. It’s as though she’s whispering to me, I’m your little girl.”

  Herman squeezed him tightly. “Thank you,” she said.

  He smiled. “For what?”

  “For our little girl.”

  CHAPTER 23

  With renewed self-assurance and a steadfast belief in their bond, Herman went with Stephen to the photoshoot three days later. Part of the shoot was to be done outside since the day was perfect, if a little chilly. The rest would take place in a trailer that contained Jill’s portable studio. Her wardrobe and her makeup and dressing rooms were in a separate trailer. As well as their stage costumes, Herman and Stephen had gone shopping together for a few items of clothing just for the occasion. Among them, lingerie for Herman’s boudoir shots. It was the most fun she could remember having with him in ages. Along with the clothes they’d brought, Stephen assured Herman that Jill would have her own ideas about what they should wear from her own collection.

  They met Jill and her two assistants outside the makeup trailer. Jill was hardly what Herman had expected. She was tall, willowy, and beautiful … and in her forties. She carried an air of complete and utter confidence in herself and her God-given right to be exactly who she was. She greeted Stephen with a smile and a chaste kiss on the cheek and then turned to Herman.

  “So you’re the girl who finally bagged The Great Dagmaru, are you?” Jill asked with a smile. “And you are so beautiful! Why didn’t Margaret tell me you had such a beautiful girlfriend?” she asked Stephen without taking her eyes off Herman. “But I should have known.” She glanced at Stephen quickly and continued to ogle Herman, walking around her to see her from every angle. When Herman turned to look at her, Jill touched her chin, turning it, to gaze at her profile. “And not an ounce of makeup on you yet. You will be a stunning subject. The camera is going to love you.”

  “Thank you,” Herman said, blushing.

  “Not at all.” Jill waved a vague finger in the direction of her assistants. “Stephen, you’ll remember Cherry and Nate?”

  “Of course,” Stephen said, bowing to them as they stepped over.

  Cherry, short and full-figured with a dirty-blonde ponytail, looked up at him and smiled. “Nice to see you again,” she said, blinking rapidly as though she was totally aflutter.

  They all shook hands and Stephen introduced Herman. She noticed Jill’s and Cherry’s short skirts; equally, she couldn’t help noticing the tightness of Nate’s soft pleather pants, particularly in the crotch area. Feeling unprofessional, she tried to will herself to stop blushing.

  Jill invited them into the trailer and had their clothes brought in. Included were two of Stephen’s tuxedos—a black one and a white one, with plenty of lace on the shirts and a top hat and cane to match each. The Halloween show’s theme was heavy metal: Stephen had a sleeveless shirt with leather pants and leather straps to go around his biceps, and Herman’s complementing costume was also in black leather with a deep-cut bare-midriff shirt of satin, with accessories of leather and chrome. Herman’s other clothing consisted of the two costumes she usually wore for the show, both sparkly pant sets with long tops.

  “Why ever don’t you have this gorgeous gir
l in dresses?” Jill asked, flicking her fingertips through the clothes.

  “One of the things we do onstage requires she go up a ladder,” Stephen explained.

  “In that case, she should be wearing mini-skirts,” Jill commented with a wink in Herman’s direction. “Why don’t you go and get yourself washed, you filthy man,” she said to Stephen. “All men are filthy,” Jill confided to Herman.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed your sense of humor, Jill.” Stephen smiled. “Which way?”

  Jill pointed toward the back of the trailer. “On the left. And don’t put anything back on. You won’t be needing underwear anyway.”

  “Of course,” Stephen said, walking away.

  “And don’t come,” she called to him as he went through the door on the left.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he called back.

  Jill must have seen the confusion in Herman’s expression. “Pure science,” she said as she gestured to one of four chairs in front of the long makeup mirror. “We paint our faces to mimic sexual desire. Rosy cheeks, red lips, mascara to give the illusion of heavily lidded eyes … it’s what happens to us naturally when we are attracted to the opposite sex, and when we’re having it.”

  Herman sat. Cherry and Nate were there, organizing things on the long table attached to the wall beneath the mirror. Jill stood behind Herman once she was seated and ran her hands through her hair, brushing it with her fingers.

  “I’ve found through years of experience that there is nothing the camera picks up better than what we show naturally, which is why I try not to use too much makeup. I’d rather the desire come through the way a lover would see it, not the way it appears on a cheap hooker.”

  Herman nodded. She wasn’t sure if she should have gathered from all that why Jill had sent Stephen to wash himself, though she suspected it was to start getting him in the mood. However, she felt reassured by Jill’s sound logic; she was far less worried than she had been when Margaret had first mentioned the photographer’s practices.