by Shara Lanel
“Maybe.” His voice pulled her back from the trance induced by the thump-thump. She tried to register what he was saying. “Unfortunately magick isn’t an exact science, though some in the past have tried to treat it as such. We’ll focus first on breaking down the barrier or lifting the veil. Describe again how you felt, okay? I think you used both of those words.”
“Well, the veil seemed more like a mood or warning, oppressive, something I could move through, like when I saw his footsteps on the stairs. But the barrier at the bottom seemed solid, like something I would need to bust through with a bomb or sledgehammer. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. So we’ll use the words ‘break down the barrier.’ And that’s how we’ll visualize it, as breaking it down.”
She shivered excitedly at the thought of destroying Aleister’s defenses. He was hiding something, even if by some remote chance it wasn’t Kim. She was sure of it. “Okay, so what do we do?”
“Well, there are two ways to do this. The traditional way, more like solitary witches working in tandem, or the fun way.” He grinned mischievously.
That smile made her heart stop. Oh, that man was so sexy. She couldn’t help giving him a small smile in return. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the fun way?”
“We can do a bit of sex magick, and before you get nervous, this would be nothing like that charlatan pulled on you. This would be totally voluntary and much earthier. We’d forego the ceremonial stuff.”
Her smile disappeared. Hearing sex, magick, and ceremonial all in the same sentence sent a shock wave rolling through her. Every nerve jangled, every part of her brain shouted, “No!” But this was Holt, not the bastard who’d violated her when she was a child, but even being with Holt might not be enough to face down the fear.
“I’m listening, but I’m not sure.” Could he sense her hesitation? She’d pushed past her fears earlier—surely she could again?
Holt studied her eyes. “It’s okay, sweet. I won’t hurt you.” After a gentle, reassuring kiss, he took her hands and guided her to the bed, where they sat. “Tell me first how you feel about me.”
How embarrassing. She didn’t know how she felt exactly. She wanted to twist her hands, study the floor, look anywhere but at Holt. “This is awfully quick, isn’t it?”
“I’m not asking for declarations of undying devotion. Just start talking. Stream of consciousness.”
“Is this part of the spell?” She couldn’t help it, she examined his eyes. She loved Holt’s eyes.
“No. It’s to let me know where you’re at, whether this would be the right thing to do.”
Diera closed her eyes and traced her feelings. Then she gazed at Holt, her face heating with a slight blush. “Well, you’re sexy. I want to jump your bones just about every minute I’m around you.”
“Definitely on the plus side, then.”
She took a deep breath and said the next. Honesty between them meant everything. “You scare me, because you’re a witch and a man and someone I think could hurt me if I let myself get too involved emotionally.”
“Con side.”
“But I think I could … do … feel something very deep for you, something close to meant-to-be. But that’s stupid, isn’t it? I just met you.”
“Not stupid. That’s how I feel, too.” He brushed his lips across hers. “But, like I said, for this spell to work, we just need to both be feeling warm, trusting, and attracted to each other. The spirit needs to be willing, in other words.”
She could do this, spell or no spell. Holt was a witch, but he was first a man, a man she trusted. Mostly. “Okay, my spirit’s willing. At the very least it will be enjoyable, right?”
“Oh, yeah, at the very least.” He lifted her palm to his mouth and drew a circle with his tongue. Goose bumps ran down her arm. “Very enjoyable.”
“Then let’s do it that way.” The hurdle cleared, she couldn’t have felt prouder.
The preparations were simple. Holt gathered enough salt to pour a circle around the chair he’d placed in the middle of the room, the throne he called it.
“You will symbolize the Goddess and I’ll worship you.”
“Ooh, that sounds good.”
He pulled silk bands from a wood box on his dresser. The box had a pentagram carved on the cover as well as some symbols that looked like writing.
Sigils. The explanation floated into her mind. Ulicia again, her spirit guide. For protection.
“I’d like to bind you. Would you mind?”
All of her previous equilibrium fled. She hid her hands behind her back and stepped away, her eyes never leaving the silken cords Holt held. Sex was wonderful with him. Sex with Holt as part of a spell to find Kim, she thought she could handle, but being tied? No! Definitely no.
No fear. Ulicia’s voice whispered through her mind, and Diera calmed, as though by … well, by magick.
Diera moved toward Holt. His rich brown eyes encouraged her, displaying nothing but how much he cared. Warmth swirled low in her stomach, triggering wetness in her panties. This was starting to turn her on. Was it just Holt or the daring? She wasn’t sure, but she held out her arms. “I don’t mind.”
A straight-backed chair with a wicker seat would serve as her throne. Not the most comfortable thing in the world. The other tools needed were a dagger or athame, several red and white candles, incense similar to the type Rowena had used for her divining, and a chalice of sweet, red wine, which Holt had dug out of one of his dresser drawers.
“Pretty cheap, but very tasty,” he said, as he unscrewed the top and poured some of the fragrant liquid into the silver goblet.
He placed all of the tools on a small, wooden altar, which he said was in the North corner of where he would sketch the circle. Next he instructed her to remove her clothes. He followed suit, and just seeing his gloriously masculine form stripped bare made Diera’s mouth water. She was a bit slower in peeling off her PJs, suddenly shy for some reason. But finally she stood in the center of the room naked.
“Turn around. I’m going to bind your arms. Let me know if it hurts.” He bent her arms at her elbows and directed them behind her back so that her hands clasped the opposite elbow. A little funky, but not too uncomfortable. With the silk cord, he bound her wrists to her elbows. The cord was loose enough so that she could remove it if she wanted to. Her breasts jutted out like cherries atop ice cream scoops, causing her nipples to pucker in response.
“You’re so beautiful,” Holt whispered. “Thank you for trusting me. I know this is a big step for you.”
Diera inhaled sharply as Holt’s mouth circled one nipple, drawing it in firmly and suckling. He did the same to the other, taking his time, getting them both primed for what was to come. Then he pressed her shoulders, directing her to sit in the chair. He wove the cord ends that dangled from her wrists around the front legs of the chair then around her calves and ankles until she was secured to the seat with her legs spread wide. He pulled one more item from the pentagram box: a silver headband, very plain except for the half-moon at the center. Once he lowered the crown to her hair, the moon rested against her forehead.
She could only watch with wonder as Holt proceeded with the ceremony. His gorgeous muscles flowed with his movements as he poured the salt circle, consecrating it with the athame, and placed the candles around the perimeter. He lit the wicks one-by-one, reciting a poem of some sort. Diera was tempted to ask him to explain the meaning of each part, but she didn’t want to interrupt him and screw up the spell.
Candlelight danced off the mirror over the dresser and the mostly bare white walls. Sweet incense filled the room. Holt placed the chalice against her lips, offering her wine, and she sipped and savored the flavor of grapes on her tongue. She thought about the completion of the harvest, which was celebrated at Samhain. The images in her mind were memories from a distant time, showing her what this rite symbolized. She saw men and women walking through walls of grapevines, heavy with plump fruits. She felt that fruit squishing be
tween her toes and under her feet. She smelled the oak barrels and felt the damp, cool air where the drink of the gods fermented.
Holt returned the chalice to the altar. Facing her once again, he knelt at her feet, bowing low, then straightening. He touched her knees and looked into her eyes. “This is the fun part. Just relax and enjoy. And you can talk, joke or whatever. Once you get close to release, focus on breaking the barrier, and when that orgasm hits, it will be broken.”
Diera quirked a wry smile. “How is this going to be fun for you, if I can’t touch you?”
“Don’t worry. It will be fun.” He winked.
His hands on her knees pressed her thighs even wider as they slid inward toward her pussy, already wet and growing more so as she thought about what he might do to her. But his hands scraped by her mound and pressed up her stomach to cup her breasts. He kneaded each soft, full globe with his palms, and his thumbs painted shapes around her aureoles, lighting her on fire even before they settled on her nipples, brushing the sensitive tips ever so lightly. He plucked each one between thumb and forefinger, turning them red as cinnamon candies.
“These look quite edible,” Holt murmured, before taking one into his mouth. But that wasn’t enough, so he pushed her breasts together. Now both nubs were in reach of his questing lips. He sucked them in simultaneously, and Diera moaned while his slippery tongue played and his teeth nibbled.
“Holt, that feels so good. I can’t believe I can’t touch you.”
He kissed a trail from her tits to her collarbone. The feathery pecks set off little explosions in the nerve endings they touched. He stroked his tongue in long licks up the side of her neck while his fingers twirled her tits once again. She was aflame and, more than that, she was beginning to feel the strange heat that came from the inside, a heat that didn’t seem sexual.
Magick, the voice whispered in her soul. The magick is growing, charging from your sexual excitement.
The intellectual part of her mind wanted to ask Holt about this, so she could understand what was happening to her, but his fingers had traveled lower to her private place, and all such analytical thought flew out the window. He combed through the curls on her mound, threading lower until his fingers reached the wave of wetness flowing from her body. He spread her labia while he used his teeth to nibble her ear lobe. His other hand continued to caress her breast, so that her whole body trembled from his touch.
He whispered against her ear, “Remember, focus on breaking the barrier. See the steps in your mind and see yourself walking past them.”
“Breaking the barrier. Holt, all I can think about are your hands on me. I’m burning.” She pushed against his fingers as they stroked her sopping clit. As if he knew how sensitive she was, he kept the touches light, circling around the bundle of nerves, then tapping it, then pressing above it and rubbing back and forth.
“Breaking the barrier,” Holt whispered again, and Diera marveled that he could keep his mind focused on the spell. Of course, if it had been her fingers stroking his dick that way it might have been a different story. She grinned at the thought of what she’d do to him when it was her turn.
His guttural voice interrupted her fantasy. “I’m going to eat you now.” His mouth was still so close to her ear that it tickled. “I’m going to eat you and drink your juices and suck you until you come.” He chuckled. “And all you’re to think about the whole time … is breaking the barrier.”
“You suck,” Diera said, laughing. And the fact that she could laugh with him in this middle of this awesome sex said more to her about their relationship than anything else. Her chest burned and she found herself picturing the heart beating in the whiteness, then moving into it, until it became her heart twined with Holt’s, beating as one.
“I see it, too,” Holt said, pulling back and looking into her eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
And not believing she could stand anymore ecstasy, Diera watched Holt’s thick hair as his head lowered and his mouth moved over her pussy. His tongue stroked into her wet slit, as his fingers spread her wide and entered her hole. He sucked her inside his mouth until she thought she’d see stars.
And maybe she did see stars. Luckily, he’d ingrained the mantra enough—break the barrier—that that also was running through her head as she came with a scream.
Damn. Well, Aunt Maeve would just have to know they were having sex, because Diera just couldn’t deal with the silence thing. This felt too good and she had to let it out.
Her body snapped like a bowstring as she came. Her vagina squeezed and released around Holt’s fingers, covering them in a torrent of her juices.
The barrier broke. “I see it! Holy shit, it worked!” She laughed in shock, but then she cried at the tumult of emotions filling her chest, as she looked beyond the steps into the black basement. It was all too familiar, the dark walls, taped windows, and shrouded altar. And beyond that altar Kim crouched in a cage, blinking back tears.
“She’s there,” Diera breathed. Holt was hugging her now.
“I see her, too. I don’t know how, but it’s like we’re linked.”
“How do we get to her?”
“Ask the Goddess.”
Diera lifted her voice and asked, “How do I reach Kim?”
And in the vision Kim looked up, startled, as if she’d heard Diera’s question. Her voice croaked. “I’m here! Save me. I’m here!”
“We’re coming,” Diera cried. “Stay strong. We’re going to get you.”
* * * *
Holt thought wryly about the old blue balls joke. He’d never been so turned on in his life, where the lightest touch would have made him come, but then they’d seen Kim. At that point he knew he needed to open the circle, so that they could take real action. He flat-out lied to the police, because they wouldn’t have believed him if he’d said he’d seen her in a vision. And he couldn’t sound wishy-washy or they wouldn’t take action, so he stated most definitely that he’d heard screams and had peeked through the basement windows and seen the girl in the cage. He didn’t give them Kim’s name, because he didn’t want questions asked about how he knew who she was. He said he was a neighbor who didn’t want to get involved. He’d had the foresight to use a pay phone to save Maeve the hassles of the cops showing up at her door, and he’d also asked the Goddess to help the cops understand the urgency and take immediate action.
So now, he and Diera sat huddled in her car in the middle of the night, a few houses down from Aleister’s. The anonymous tip must have been enough to get a search warrant since Al refused to let the cops in at first. They arrested him to get him out of the way.
Quite happy to see the man in handcuffs, Holt said, “You know, I never liked that job.”
Diera sighed. “I come into your life and suddenly you’re losing your job and lying to the police. Good friend I am, huh?”
“Luckily you’re more than a friend, or I’d have to rethink our relationship.”
A cop approached with a flashlight. “Uh-oh,” Diera said.
“Yeah that.”
The mammoth flashlight tapped on the glass, so Holt rolled down the window. “What are you two doing sitting in the dark here?”
Holt frowned. “Well, we were thinking about making out, but then we saw the commotion. What happened?”
The cop scratched his bushy hair. “Found a girl in a cage. You don’t know anything about it?”
“No, we were just escaping our roommates for a couple of hours.”
Diera leaned over Holt’s lap. “Is the girl all right?”
“Yeah. She said the sicko planned to use her in some ritual or something. We’ve called her parents to meet us at the station.”
“I’m glad you all were there for her, Officer. Blessed be.” The Wiccan saying rolled off Diera’s tongue and she thought about that with wonder as she sat back in her seat. Holt nodded to the officer before rolling his window back up. The cop sauntered back up the street to the crowd of black-and-whites. Holt started the car
and drove away slowly, deciding it best not to give the cops more cause for suspicion.
“I’ll call Mr. Jacobs tomorrow and make sure Kim’s okay. Seems strange to save her without going near her. I’ve only met her once.”
“I’m sure you will again, and if you find she’s a true seeker, you can direct her to Rowena, so she can avoid any more jerks like Al.”
“Do you think they have enough to arrest and convict him? Seems like on Law and Order, even the most obvious evidence can get thrown out.”
“You’ve done your part. And I think Rowena will want to do her part. I imagine she’ll track down the members of Al’s coven and make sure they’re put on the right Path.”
“And for the first time in almost a month, maybe I’ll get some damn sleep without any coffin dreams.”
“Maybe no dreams, but the sleep part … I don’t know.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white as they passed under a street lamp.
“What do you have in mind? You know I live in Norfolk, don’t you?”
“Not a long drive, and I’m presently jobless and find myself with an abundance of free time.”
“Ah, the possibilities.”
The End
About the Author:
Shara began her writing life at the age of five, creating those little “About Me” books with the balloon on the back. She finally managed publication in high school, writing and editing the Entertainment Page in the school paper, and she toyed with the idea of being a rich and famous author.
Of course, there was a large period of time during which she planned to be an astronaut or rock star, whichever came first. But since neither of those careers panned out, she went to college in New York City to study film.
A fellow writer, who shall remain nameless, implored Shara to “come to the Dark Side”—referring to writing romantica—so she did, and now she may never go back. She's having too much fun writing the sexy, sinful stuff she loves to read. In fact, she's pretty good at it, and the research is fantastic.