by Ginny Lynn
My eyes were now open, seeing the bedroom, as Aster awoke from our erotic dream. I had been so close to feeling his release that it was excruciating to have it all vanish under her seething anger. I prayed he had taken enough energy from my body to help us get out of this and keep us alive. I’d be happy if I could at least get back into my body, even if it meant I was to be haunted for my rebellion.
“How dare you!” she screeched at us.
He vanished, and I appeared back in my drab box with no body of my own. Wanting to cry, I could only feel myself shrinking away.
If I could see what was going on outside of my cell, then I’d know if Kenrick had come to and if he was safe from her wrath. Then an idea came to me. If I had been able to fabricate myself a dream body then maybe I could force her to share her eyesight or hearing. Centering myself, picturing where my chakras were, I made my will into a glowing ball of color and shoved it upward. After a second, I heard a gasp and it was my own voice. Grasping that triumph like a ray of hope, I pulled it to me. And then I could see Kenrick still lying prone on the bed. His soft breath came to the ears opening to me. He seemed okay and she hadn’t taken it out on him, yet. Was she aware of what I had done or maybe too busy using her unearthly strength to maintain her will over mine? I heard her whispering to him.
“My sweet betraying love, what were you up to? Were you using her to gain enough power to come back to me, or to conquer my power?”
Nothing came from him, not even a motion of him waking.
Her eyes were heavy again, as she hadn’t had enough time to recuperate, especially with us using some of her power to bring Kenrick to full health. A fleeting thought poked at me and I didn’t want to give it a second appraisal, but it was valid. What if he had seduced me to get himself out of this and not to save us both? Would he do that to me after what had happened? After he had admitted to having feelings for me? Time would tell if I was truly someone of importance to him and God save me if I was wrong. While Aster fell back asleep, I waited and conserved my energy.
****
Time passed in bits and pieces as I hung in the grip of her possession of me. I’d seen her get up and take care of a few human things that shocked her to deal with. Kenrick remained comatose, but his lungs moved to keep him going. The steady pulse at his extended neck had reassured me he was only healing himself as we regrouped. I fought my own hysteria as Aster only allowed me subtle glimpses of her as she walked the estate. I wasn’t going to waste what I had on little peaks when I had a feeling things were only going to get worse.
She didn’t go to the greenhouse or the graveyard, skirting them to see everything else. That felt odd to me. If either was a place of power then I would have thought she would go there to step up her potion. Instead, she brought the items she had grabbed from around the yard and had taken the armload of it back to the kitchen.
Maybe she had gone to the greenhouse and had blocked my sight because there were things on the counter that were not to be found in the pantry. Not knowing enough about plants to recognize them, I focused on the piece of paper showing from her book. Yes, it was her love potion. In small handwritten print at the bottom, it said the dose was strongest if taken within twenty-four hours of it hitting full potency. It was a good detail to know. She either planned to slide it down his throat while he remained asleep or she was confident enough that he would be awake in the next thirty-six hours. Him being asleep gave me less of a chance to save him unless he was stronger when joined with a woman’s sleep induced mind.
If he was awake and in good health, then he could struggle until he could get free. Maybe she didn’t have the human strength to stop him from leaving. That was it! She planned to get it down him before he had his full senses about him. At that point, she’d have his utter devotion. There would be no stopping the rest of her plans as she took over the property as me. Then I wondered if she had taken Mr. White into consideration. Would he show up, and would she have to pretend to be me? She’d have to be convincing but then again, he didn’t know me well enough to press the point. This was so infuriating. I had no more power here than I did in the middle of a heart-stopping vision.
The doorbell chimed and Aster was shocked into motion. When she opened the door, a courier stood there with a large manila envelope. She signed for the paperwork and I snuck a peek at the address of the law firm Mr. White owned. Attached to the outside of the large envelope was a smaller white one. Ripping it open, she continued to allow me to share whatever was about to happen.
Ms. Barkely,
I have been unable to visit in person due to damage from the recent storm but wanted you to have a final look at the paperwork included in the will. It only has a few differences from the first set as it is more up to date with the finances. Please look over this and I will be there to see you tomorrow night for your final decision.
Sincerely,
Mr. White
Aster spun around in glee as she registered how much money she would be cashing in on. She stopped in her merriment long enough to dance around the house as she looked for the first set of papers left with me. Sadly, she found them and her joy was palpable at the amount of money she would be entitled to once she had everything finalized. What a bitch! After checking on the unchanged state of her handsome victim, she went back to the kitchen to assume duties on the potion she was excited to brew. But I’d been disappointed to see her weave some kind of spell over the door before she had come downstairs. She’d know if he got up while she stayed occupied elsewhere.
She allowed me to see her detailed work in mixing all of the ingredients, even the emphasis she put into grinding some of the plants into an unrecognizable paste at the bottom of her mortar. The mixture began to brew over the low heat of the gas stove in one of the copper pots that usually hung on the rack above the bar side of the countertops.
The mixture resembled creamed spinach and was left to warm as she went into the library to get the two champagne flutes that had been placed on an antique silver tray by the large bookcase. She ran a delicate finger around the rim to make it sing as her building joy resonated through the staircase after looking in on Kenrick. However, her feelings of paranoia were simmering under the surface and that was a good sign. If she’d just left him unsupervised, it might show her cockiness but it would also show him as being more injured than I had originally guessed.
She poured some of the wine from my interrupted undate into one of the flutes and took a long sip as if she just realized how much she had missed it since her body had died. I’m sure she had indulged in alcohol when she was young, as she’d been responsible for the neighbor’s crop flourishing under her care. Her age would have no bearing on it, like it did now with the more modern laws of my day. Besides, it was naive to believe Aster could be anything other than an opportunist when it came to any material item she set her sights on.
Once the brew had come to the proper temperature, she let it cool as she drank down more of the wine. Since it would take a few moments, she used the time to tidy up the items around the kitchen, even humming that insane tune from before while salting the green stain from the surface of the warm-toned bowl. When done, she scooped some of the slimy mixture into the bottom of the unused flute before pouring the remaining wine equally between her glass and the goop laden one. It looked disgusting. I couldn’t imagine how she believed she could get the stuff down the throat of a man that wasn’t conscious enough to swallow on his own accord.
Swirling the mixture around with a silver spoon, she walked both glasses upstairs and back into my bedroom. Kenrick laid in a tousled heap on the bed, but it seemed he had moved around a little bit. One of his feet peeked out from the corner of the covers, and his face now looked toward the high ceiling. Stopping for a moment, she paused at the spelled threshold, taking in his masculine form as she told herself he would soon belong to her and her alone. What she felt for this man went beyond simple love at first sight. She had been stalking him for years as her largest
prey. Would the success of the evening end the passion which had kept her going for so long? When he woke loving her, would it be enough? Her wants, drive, and insecurity were so profound that I felt shredded by the chaotic way she had fought to have him. She truly had let vengeance drive her insane.
Being who she was, no formal ceremony would be called for to set this trap. She was just going to curl up beside him and get down enough of the vile potion to have him wake as her passionate lover. She arranged herself in a settled pile in the same spot I had been when I had been captured by her. How interesting? Kenrick’s head was held up so she could take my pillow and place it gently under his lower neck in a way that opened up his throat. It would make this go easier, if she didn’t end up getting it down his windpipe and into his lungs.
Once she had him in a better placement, she closed her eyes tightly and it looked as if she was saying a prayer. Straining my power, I could make out the words of a poem, from many years ago.
You’ll love me yet!—and I can tarry
Your love’s protracted growing:
June rear’d that bunch of flowers you carry,
From seeds of April’s sowing.
~*~
I plant a heartful now: some seed
At least is sure to strike,
And yield—what you’ll not pluck indeed,
Not love, but, may be, like.
~*~
You’ll look at least on love’s remains,
A grave’s one violet:
Your look?—that pays a thousand pains.
What’s death? You’ll love me yet!
~Robert Browning
And once the words were spoken, she had the inner strength to make this dream become reality. Holding the flute at a slight angle by his mouth, she let a few drops land on his tongue and watched to see if his throat would move on its own. It didn’t. So she poured a few more, and then held his mouth shut. He still didn’t move on his own or even become startled enough to sit up. Her anger was a riot inside her previously settled mind at how the pieces were falling apart at the seams. Steeling herself, she poured the goop into his mouth and then took my other pillow to position it over his face. She would practically suffocate him with the pillow to get the effect she hoped for. Just as I feared for his immediate safety, he jerked about under the stuffed offender. Yanking the pillow off, his throat began working. I’d heard the trick done to animals who wouldn’t swallow pills and it was a certainty that she knew none of the newest methods of emergency care. I imagine worst procedures had been used a hundred years ago.
His throat bobbed again and his lips worked as he began to take in the consistency of what was being administered to him. A hand came up to wipe a sliver of dribble running down his strong chin. I waited for him to open those lovely eyes but they remained shut. Was his body automatically taking care of him or could his subconscious be trying to wake him from this horrible situation? Maybe he was faking it so she would leave him to devise a plan. If the later was the case then it would all be in vain if he woke to a love so deep where his thoughts were drowned in the sorrowful depths.
Chapter Sixteen
Kenrick didn’t open his mesmerizing eyes after taking in the full portion of the potion. I had hoped he would jump up, spit the gruesome remains into her pale face, and declare his feelings for me. All I got instead was a self-satisfied feeling spewed from the witch who had taken over my form. I was appalled that she may well have everything she came back to life for. Maybe if I could get my hands on her diary, then I could see if there was a way to reverse it or even something in there to destroy her life force altogether. But to do that, I would have to make her take me.
Then it hit me. If I was lucky enough to somehow get what I needed through Kenrick, then I could see if he could devise the required items to survive this. He possessed more knowledge about her than I did. This would only work if he woke up as himself and not her love puppet. I doubted I was crafty enough to trick him into finding something to destroy the link she fought to create with him. My only solution was to see what happened when he woke up and joined us in this play for life.
Resting up throughout the remainder of the day, I didn’t force my way into any visuals or sounds from my captor. My thoughts plotted every scenario pertaining to me or Kenrick. No matter what I could devise, it seemed that I was bound by knowing whether Kenrick would be with me or against me. One good question was if Kenrick woke a lovesick slave, would he still be able to visit ladies in their dreams? I hadn’t seen anything that led to my particular curse being removed. She wouldn’t need him to love her body and then again love her in her state of REM sleep. It might empower him but I didn’t see her allowing him to gain enough strength from her if it cost her some of her witch powers. Would I be able to call on him in that manner, instead of him just invading my mind?
At dinner, she sat at the small table with a single taper candle in front of her china plate. She relished the flavors of the poached eggs and steamed salmon for her meal. I never liked the stuff so I was glad I didn’t have to share the taste of it. It seemed even more of an assault on my freedom as she delighted in one of her favorite meals from days gone by. After she finished the disgusting meal, she washed the dishes in the sink and exuded her happiness on me. If only I could shut her completely out, maybe I would be able to keep my sanity about me for a few years longer. Trying to stay numb, it would cut to the core every time she forced her happiness on me, at the expense of my mortal life.
She waltzed up the staircase in the dark and pushed her feelings of eagerness upon me. Gloating was never a becoming trait and I wanted to use the small amount of power I had salvaged to expel her from me at that very moment. If I couldn’t make her leave my body then I could at least not have to feel what she chose to feed me in this sick game. Just as I was about to give a huge mental push, I caught a flicker in her thoughts. She wanted me to do this. Her game plan relied on me expending what little I had not used to keep me from having any sexual encounters with Kenrick once she fell asleep in my bed. The bitch was ruthless. Fighting my large stubborn streak, I let her rain all over my raw feelings.
Once in my room, she strode over to the gilded mirror by the small closet and slowly stripped off my clothing. She looked over every inch of my freckled skin to see what she liked and disliked about her new form. It was degrading as she ran her hand over my small perky breasts, wishing she still had her more rounded ones. The flat plain of my stomach made her feel better as she had hated that part of her old body. My hips weren’t as full as hers had been, but she would be okay with them as my legs were strong and muscular. Making a face of disdain at the clothing on the floor, she knew one of the first things she would do was go shopping with her new bank account. She had never been able to do it before and didn’t like the drab colors of my worn attire but she had no choice since my previous meager budget could only purchase so much. Soon she would own flowing dresses and sexy nightgowns of silk and satin.
A shudder of anticipation escaped her as she shifted under the sheets, and the weight of the man on the bed had her in a more intimate hold than she was used to. Last night, exhaustion had taken away the sparkling newness of her being in bed with a man. Tonight, she had goosebumps as she told herself that she would have more than just a subtle embrace to warm her through the blustery night. If I could vomit, I would have. Having sex in my mind was bearable but her having it with a real man in my body was just twenty shades of wrong.
Sleep claimed her before I could try to prevent anything from happening to my unprotected anatomy. But the dream that captured us was unlike any I had experienced. Maybe the combined power of the three people involved caused this but I wasn’t expecting what I saw. I was looking at Aster’s ghost form as she became more dense and unghost like. We were in the yard halfway between the house and the greenhouse. I recognized the tree she used to stand under when watching him work with the delicate plants.
After taking a hesitant step, she left the tree
behind, and I saw her stealthily move toward the greenhouse. She would keep peeking into the doors to see if anything would be made clear to her before she got to the threshold. I didn’t get the sense that she had any clue but she went along with her dream, hoping it would still end in the same amount of sexual bliss. I was not a part of her as she moved along in this scene. I wasn’t looking down at her either, as any type of ethereal or metaphysical being. This confirmed my thought as she looked straight at me before she got two steps away from the door left ajar. I knew she was glaring at me, in some type of question as to whether she should move forward or should I. If this ride belonged to her then I would remain still and wait to see what the cards had in store for us.
Her confusion over us both being there was written on her alabaster skinned face. She had to have mistakenly taken me along for the journey or Kenrick had plans for both of us. We would soon find out which way this path would unwind. After she finally made herself go into the greenhouse, I followed a few paces behind her. I almost ran into her as soon as I cleared the glass door. She stared longingly at Kenrick who was clipping buds off of a small plant that had not been in any of my other visions. The arrays of plants were a mixture of old and new as both worlds were combined. Some of the older items held a more sepia tone, as if from a vintage photograph.