Laurel rested her chin on her chest and her ears burned with her flush. “Was it that easy for you to search my mind?”
“Yes.”
“You’re powerful.”
“Yes.”
“What are you? Or who?” Laurel chewed her lip, worried she had offended. Her knees flexed as she considered kneeling to the powerful spirit behind her.
“You may call me Catherine.”
“It’s not your name, is it?”
“No. But names have power, don’t they? And what do you care?”
Laurel lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I want to know you.”
“Because I can get you off?”
“It’s more than that.”
“Is it?
“Yes. I want to know you. All of you.”
“Do you? Are you sure? What if I’m not as you imagined? What if I’m ugly as Medusa on a bad day? Or if I’m a hideous beast with sharp fangs and an insatiable hunger for flesh?”
“Then you’re a hideous beast. I don’t care.” Laurel shifted on the balls of her feet. “Does it matter to you the meat envelope I’m in?”
“No. I was drawn to your energy.”
“Why would I be different? Please. I want to see you. I have to see you.” Laurel placed the charcoal on her easel, wiped her hand on her jeans, and kneeled. She grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her nipples pebbled in the cold. “Please. Touch me? Let me feel you.”
A wisp of energy flowed over Laurel’s shoulder and traveled down, split into two. The sensation of her nipples being thumbed made her sway toward the sensation. She groaned as her clit responded to the attention.
“So wanton. You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Not with this, you.”
The energy surged around her, tightened its grip on her nipples and then closed around her throat.
“Shut your eyes,” the voice commanded, hard edged and rough.
Laurel shifted to ease the ache in her clit as she closed her eyes. She clasped the fabric of her jeans to stop the tremble in her hands.
The loops of energy morphed into the sensation of fingers that dug into the tender skin of her neck and tightened around her throat.
“You trust me not to end you?”
“Yes.” Laurel panted and then moaned as the squeeze on her nipples increased.
“Why?”
Laurel turned her palms up and rested them on the back of her thighs as she lifted her chin, giving the spirit access to her, signaling her willingness to be possessed. “I’m not powerless. I sense you. I know you won’t harm me, hurt me.” She raised her hands up and lifted her breasts with both hands. “At least no more than I want you to.”
“Open your eyes.”
Laurel blinked her eyes open. A woman, thick and curvy, her lips full and her shoulders wide, stood over her, the skin over her broad cheeks pulled taut. Her skin had a blue cast, the subtle shade of nonexistence. Her hair was a wild mass of jet black, and wiry curls fell about her shoulders. Her eyes fixed on Laurel’s face. Black as a pit, a fine rim of red outlined them.
“You’re a demon? Or a centurion? Or were?”
Catherine snorted and tightened her grip on Laurel’s throat. “Centurions. Half-wit demons who allow themselves to be used. Do I look like a mindless creature to you? No. I escaped bondage when I transformed.” She tapped her thumb over the pulse in Laurel’s throat. “Are you disappointed? I’m not the goddess you imagined, am I? Not the wicked snow queen of your fantasy?”
Laurel rolled her nipples as she held Catherine’s gaze. “No. It doesn’t matter you’re not as I imagined.”
Catherine let her hand fall away from Laurel’s throat and gestured to her breasts. “And yet you still offer yourself? Knowing what I was? Not knowing what I am?”
“And what are you?”
Catherine drew herself together and revealed her true form. “I am Entity. Devourer of Souls. Spirit and yet not. And currently bound to this place.” She lifted her arm and gestured to the window. “Beyond these walls I do not exist.” She placed her hand on the crown of Laurel’s head. “But here, in this space, I am.”
Laurel moved her hands from her breasts and lowered her head to the floor in front of Catherine’s feet. “You are that which ever lives.”
“I am.”
“And ever loves.”
“That too.”
“What became of your lover?”
Catherine withdrew her touch. Laurel pressed her forehead to the floor. “Please. Don’t go. Forgive me if my question was insensitive. I am inexperienced.”
“She was taken from me. Put your shirt on. Enough for today.”
Catherine’s energy bled from the space leaving Laurel chilled. She drew her shirt over her head, hugged her knees to her chest. Why did I push? A deep melancholy settled in her soul. Her phone beeped, signaling it was time to get ready for her shift at Sanctuary. She rose, ripped the paper from her sketch pad, balled it up, and tossed it to the floor.
Chapter Twelve
Laurel’s shift at Sanctuary had left her jangled. The first half of her shift at the supper club had passed in pleasant boredom, until she had to take over for Kyle. Her head still throbbed from the heavy bass and clove cigarette smoke that had billowed over the densely packed space. The only bright spot had been the two women, a couple who had in passing through the club left a frisson of passionate energy that lit up the room. The sensuous vibe had Laurel seriously considering taking Carla up on her previous offer of a tour of the private rooms of Sanctuary.
She thumbed through the numbers in her phone as Laurel gulped a glass of water in the dark kitchen. The number for the sexual healing service she had used in the past rolled up. Dial-a-Domme as Laurel thought of it. She could call and have a Mistress at her house within the hour, ready to give Laurel what she needed. Everything but what she truly craved. Affection. Love. She texted the number and placed her phone on the table.
Beyond the living room bay window, streetlights bathed the street in a dull yellow glow. A dark form skittered from under a car and bolted under the steps of the house across the street. Another followed, as a parade of rats frolicked in the deserted street. Laurel watched them as she sipped her water. Her phone vibrated and she picked it up to read the text asking her to call to discuss her needs. Laurel lifted the phone and dialed.
“Hello, Laurel.” Mistress Madeline’s sultry tones flowed from the speaker. “It’s late. What do you need?”
Her voice grated against Laurel’s heart. Catherine. Catherine was what she needed not this simulated experience.
Laurel pushed her hand through her hair. “Nothing. Sorry to bother you.”
“You’re sure, Laurel? It’s been a long time. I’ve missed you.”
“Ha. I think you’ve missed my money.”
“Don’t be cruel, Laurel. You called me.”
“Sorry. I’m not in a good place. I don’t want to—I’m sorry I called.”
Madeline sniffed loudly. “It’s three in the morning and as much as I’d love to chat with you, and then come over and spank you for you disturbing my rest, if that is not what you want, I’ll just hang up now.”
The click of her disconnect echoed in Laurel’s ear she tossed the phone to the middle of the table, set her glass aside, and left the kitchen. In the living room she picked up the sketch she had crumpled and opened it. She clipped it to her easel and smoothed it flat, her hands smearing the lines of the drawing. Her body ached with want. Her belly taut with desire, she laid her hands flat over Catherine’s image.
“Catherine. Please. Come to me. Talk to me, please.” Laurel flexed her power and the paper glowed blue as she searched for Catherine.
A psychic stillness filled the space. Void of energy. Catherine was behind her wards again. Wards. Because she feared who? Laurel? A snort of laugher bubbled out and shattered the stillness. “You have nothing to fear. Please come to me.”
/> Desperate for touch and frustrated by Catherine’s reticence, angry at Catherine’s refusal to appear, rage barreled through Laurel. Wisps of blue smoke rose as the paper smoldered and the edges glowed red.
Forgoing words, Laurel put psychic muscle behind her call. Focusing her energy, she lifted her hands, opened them wide, and held them out palm up. A dense ball of light gathered in her palms. She spun it, a diminutive tornado of power, and directed it toward the attic.
The dense light flowed from her hand. A funnel-shaped purple cloud of energy flowed toward the ceiling, twisted and turned, and then vanished. A bright-blue light mixed with Laurel’s light, a kaleidoscope of power and energy. It danced along the ceiling and swirled together. The room glowed with technicolor illumination as the energy blended before it collapsed in on itself and formed an image.
Catherine stood before her. A cool expression on her face, tall and foreboding, she was a vision of every fantasy Laurel had ever had of a woman to command her, to seduce her, to take over and let Laurel experience and feel, and serve at her direction.
“Why do you show me this? Why not come as you are?”
“Does it matter? You summoned me, I responded to your call as I assumed you wished me to appear.”
Laurel flushed and flinched. “I wanted…” She swept her hair back from her face. “Sorry.”
“Sorry for wanting me? Or sorry for summoning me? Ignoring my desire to be left alone?”
“Yes.” Laurel rested her head on her chest. “I’ll let you go.”
“No. I’m here now.”
Laurel reached across the space and stopped with her hand a bare inch from Catherine’s arm. “May I?”
Catherine inclined her head. “Yes.”
Laurel rested her fingers on Catherine’s arm, completing a circuit of energy between them. “Oh, it was you. In the shower.”
“Of course, it was. Did you really think anyone else capable of giving you what you crave?”
Laurel shivered with the steel in Catherine’s voice. She closed her eyes as the sensations of their previous encounter washed over her. “Why? Why didn’t you let me into the attic? Let me see you then?”
Catherine moved away, severing the connection between them. “I wasn’t sure you were ready. I don’t like to show myself as I am.”
“You’ve shown yourself to me, why come to me like this? Or—” Laurel swallowed bile as she remembered the trail of blood to the attic. “—is there another form you take?”
“Yes.” Catherine turned her back to Laurel. “An Entity’s physical form is fixed if they are imprisoned. You should know this. What kind of education did you have?”
“None, really. My parents died before I started formal training. I was deemed too weak. I was released and allowed to choose my path.”
Catherine snorted. “Ridiculous. You were allowed to waste your power. Your talent is undeveloped.”
“You sound like my great-uncle.”
“Has no one in your family pushed you?”
“Everyone. Until my parents died. And then everyone left me alone.”
“Left you alone? Or you pushed them away?”
‘Both.” Laurel moved closer to Catherine. “What happened? Was it your blood?”
“You know the answer to that. Use your power. Stop pretending you don’t have any. Quit acting like a novice.”
“What little power I have is useless most of the time.”
“Because you don’t want it? Or are afraid of it? Do you have any idea what I’ve done to attain the power I have? What I’ve suffered to develop what you were born with?”
Laurel flinched as Catherine’s harsh words echoed in the room. “I don’t want it. I didn’t ask to be born this way.”
“You have two choices. Use it or be used by it. Master your power, Laurel, before…”
Catherine broke off and faded from Laurel’s view.
Her absence hit Laurel hard, her body craving the connection. She focused her power and searched for Catherine. She inhaled sharply and shot a bolt of power toward the spot where Catherine had disappeared. “Come back. Right now. We’re not finished.”
Catherine returned. “Well done. See? Not that hard to focus when you want something.” She stepped closer and drew her fingers over Laurel’s cheek. “Or someone.”
Laurel licked her lips. “Are you real? Or have I created you?”
“I’m as real as you are.” Catherine leaned close. The scent of pine resin and cedar swirled around them. She cupped Laurel’s face and her dark eyes pierced Laurel’s soul, pinned her in place.
Laurel fell then, into the seduction of Catherine’s spirit as she held her gaze. “Please kiss me. Kiss me, Ma’am.”
Catherine smiled, exposing her fangs as she leaned in and pressed her blood-red lips to Laurel’s mouth. A whipcord of sensation crackled down Laurel’s spine and she opened to her kiss. Catherine’s voice in her mind was rich as she spoke of her desires. Laurel ran her tongue over the sharp edge of Catherine’s teeth. She whimpered, caught up in the shimmering threads of Catherine’s mental bindings.
Catherine broke the kiss. Laurel panted. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
“Oh yes.” Catherine drew the backs of her fingers over Laurel’s cheek.
The sad smile on Catherine’s face made Laurel’s heart squeeze tight.
“You are delicious.” She smoothed her palms over the bare skin of Laurel’s arms. “So tempting.”
Laurel forgot herself and clasped Catherine by her arms. She tugged her close and pressed against her body. The fires of want and need flamed low in her belly. Her skin glowed and sparked with her desire. “We don’t have to stop.”
Catherine extricated herself from Laurel’s arms. “We do. You don’t know what this will cost you.”
Laurel frowned. “What? Are you some kind of cosmic courtesan?”
Catherine leveled her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need money?”
“What then? What could I have you want?”
“Blood.”
Laurel drew back. “I won’t kill for you.”
Catherine tilted her head to the side. “I wouldn’t ask you to kill for me. That’s easily enough done.”
“Or lure anyone here so you can do it.” Laurel shivered as the light in the room faded.
“I don’t need that.” Catherine looked away from Laurel’s face.
“Then what are you talking about?” Laurel stepped close and rested her fingertips on Catherine’s shoulder.
Catherine turned to face her and met her gaze. “I need your blood, Laurel. Freely given.”
Laurel recoiled. “This was all so you could seduce me to get my blood?”
“No. I…”
“You want to use me. Like everyone else.”
“No. Please listen, let me explain…”
“No. So you can lie to me some more? Seduce me? Convince me that you really wanted me for myself instead of for what I can do? You’re just like the rest them. Fuck you.” Laurel’s rage bubbled and overflowed, hot and thick as lava. Her power surged out and up and a wave of red light shot from her body and filled the room. It enveloped Catherine, the light filling her body, shining from her eyes, nose, and mouth. A shrill cry escaped her lips followed by a deep groan as Catherine’s form crumpled to the floor, a rag doll of unanimated flesh.
Laurel gasped, her rage shifting to terror. “Catherine!”
The body on the floor melted into dark ooze. Bubbling slowly, it slipped through the cracks in the floor and vanished. Laurel’s knees gave way and she collapsed. Her chest ached, her heart split wide. Betrayed. Again.
Laurel lay on her side curled into a ball. She reached her hand and touched the damp boards where Catherine had vanished. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks. Her rage had destroyed a spirit.
Her anger cooled, the red light faded and in its place was desolation. Laurel rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling with her hands clasped over her aching heart.
She had destroyed Catherine. Destroyed an Entity who had sealed herself behind wards until Laurel had forced her to appear. Catherine had tried to protect Laurel. And what had Laurel done? Lashed out. Not even given her a chance to explain. The horror of her actions swirled in her mind and she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyelids to block the vision of Catherine’s last moments. She rocked silently until she was exhausted. Too tired to move, she rolled to her side, drawing her legs up, and slept.
*
The sun rose over the buildings and suffused the room with dull morning light. Stiff and cold from sleeping on the floor, Laurel pushed herself to sitting. She wiped the dried salt of her tears from her cheeks. She touched the boards where Catherine had vanished. A telltale wisp of energy flowed from the wood. An act. An elaborate scene designed to fool Laurel as she hid behind her wards. Laurel lifted her eyes to the stairs and scrambled to her feet.
Chapter Thirteen
Laurel bolted from the room and took the stairs two at a time. Fine blue light glimmered from the edges of the doorframe. White-hot energy shards burned her palms as she grabbed the doorknob with both hands and yanked hard. The door pulled free as the wards Catherine had left in place shattered around her.
She shouldered the door aside and bounded up the three steps leading to the attic space. A rotted, brown-stained mattress rested on a brass three-quarter bed frame under the eaves. Sweat stung her eyes in the stifling attic space. She blinked and swiped the back of her wrist over her forehead.
Dim light from the single window illuminated a board atop two boxes with a small stool under it. On the makeshift desk a thick book lay open, its pages swollen and dirty. She crossed to the desk. Her puzzle box was centered on the wide board.
A shiver skittered down her spine. She had unpacked the box and placed it on the table in the kitchen. And yet it was here in the attic. She rested her fingers on top of the box and a familiar energy signature filtered up her arm. Catherine. Why would she want Laurel’s thrift store find? Alma had chided her for spending money she didn’t have on a useless dust collector after Laurel was unable to open it. Laurel had ignored Alma’s repeated attempts to force her to get rid of the box, and she gave up trying to explain to Alma the way the small chest called to her.
Love, Blood, and Sanctuary Page 6