Eighth Wand

by December Quinn

  Keeping his left hand firmly on her back, he leaned forward and reached down with his right to play with her hard little clit. She gasped when he touched it, the gasp turning into a cry of pleasure when he took it between his index and middle fingers and rolled it gently. Her legs buckled.

  “Prudence,” he whispered. “Does that feel good?” Just saying the words made his pelvis tighten.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Gods, yes!”

  Something swelled in his chest then, the same daring he’d experienced last night. The same feeling that he’d finally found a woman with whom he could truly experiment, a woman not held by the fussy conventions of women in his world. This was a woman dedicated to pleasure, a woman who did not feel the need to pretend later that she had not enjoyed herself.

  Breaking through the icy reserve of Fae women was satisfying indeed, and Royd had become a master at it. But even then, some things were simply not done. Prudence…Prudence had no conventions to break through, no reservations. He felt it in the way she ground against him, saw it in the way she lifted her hips further. He could look down and see the puckered little hole above her pussy, and before he had time to think about it he licked his thumb and rubbed it over that sensitive little entrance.

  “Aaah!” Her hips leapt. Delight sang in his heart. Slowing his thrusts, he kept a pace with his fingers on her clit and carefully, very gently, slipped his thumb inside her. Her fingers tightened on the box she held, their knuckles white.

  “Prudence,” he said, knowing what the answer would be, knowing she was completely under his spell, “does that feel good?”

  She paused. He waited, not moving at all, praying she wouldn’t try to hide.

  She didn’t. “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He slipped his thumb in a little farther, then pulled it back out. This passage, so tight, gripped him, held him. He imagined how it would feel around his cock and had to force himself not to try immediately.

  Impatiently, she thrust her hips back up toward him, reminding him he had other work to do. He could stand here and play with her ass all day, would happily come just from the feel of her around him, but it would be so much better if she did too.

  He set his fingers in motions once again, rubbing her clit, pressing it rhythmically between his fingers. Her hips jerked, begging him not to stop. When he pulled his cock back and thrust it in again, she cried out, louder than before, and when he started moving his thumb inside her, her muscles tightened around him.

  Everywhere. Her orgasm was nearing, he felt it as his fingers grew slick with her moisture, saw it in the rosy flush of her skin and sped up his thrusts.

  Over and over he slammed into her as their cries mingled in the warm, still air before finally she exploded. Her cunt gripped his cock, squeezing him, begging him to come. Her ass pulsed around his thumb, her cream coated his hand, and his balls tightened in anticipation.

  “Prudence, yes!” He barely had time to say her name, to say anything, before his entire body convulsed with pleasure. His pelvis hit her ass with a smack as he slammed into her one last time, his vision blurry with ecstasy. In that moment the room was full of light, blinding and pure, the light of the gods themselves. He’d never seen it that bright before.

  She came again, her hair flying as she tossed her head back. Both of their legs buckled and they fell, stumbling forward, dropping to the floor in a heap of glowing, sweaty delight.

  How long they stayed there, cuddled together on the hard bare boards, Royd did not know. All he did know was in that time, as he held her, the feelings of respect and desire he already felt for her, the desire to open himself to her completely, grew. He…liked her. Yes, he liked her very much. In the short time he’d known her, she’d faced the knowledge that someone she obviously loved had been keeping secrets from her, secrets that put her life in jeopardy. She’d also faced the truth about the people she knew—that when it came down to it, she thought they were perfectly capable of playing a cruel, cruel trick on her.

  And yet she was not bitter or scared. She still faced the world with open eyes and a practical manner with a touch of humor. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence. It warmed his heart.

  And other places too. Places he didn’t think were capable of warming again so quickly. He slid his fingertips down her arm and she shivered.

  “Don’t do that,” she said. “Not if you want to resume our search anytime soon.”

  “We have time,” he whispered. Her nipples hardened when he moved his hand to the right one, rubbing it with his palm.

  Her back arched. “I don’t know if we do,” she said. Her legs parted a little, just enough for him to get a whiff of her glorious, sultry scent. “We woke up late and I’ve still got—oh shit!”

  “What?”

  She pulled away from him, grabbing her panties and yanking them on, scrambling for her dress. He found himself hating that dress, simply because it covered her breasts.

  “I’ve got people coming here—oh, damn it!—Kym and her asshole boyfriend. She was going to tell Ravenancia that I shirked my duties last night, so I had to agree to let him look at some of Gran’s stuff to keep her quiet and—”

  “Wait, what? These people are blackmailing you?”

  “Basically. And they’ll be here any minute—”

  The doorbell rang. Pru looked at Royd, her face still flushed from their earlier passion. “They’re here now.”

  Royd stood up. Prudence blushed and he followed her gaze down his naked body. “I suppose I should get dressed,” he said. “Or…the woman did not see me last night, did she? So I do not suppose either of them will see me now?”

  “I’ll see you.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  Her face grew even redder and Royd had to fight not to laugh, not to reach out and pull her into his arms. He’d never enjoyed teasing a woman like this before. But then, he’d never known a woman who so openly appreciated it before. It made him feel like a king.

  “Just…just stay here, okay? Or you can stay in my room where it’s not so hot. Actually, yeah, stay in my room.”

  “I do not mind the heat.”

  “But I might have to bring them up here. Help me take a couple of boxes down, and if I have to, I’ll bring them up for more. You wait in my room. Watch TV or something.”

  “TV?”

  The doorbell rang again. Prudence crossed the floor, flung open the window and stuck her head out, giving Royd an excellent view of the back of her dress falling smoothly over her ass. “I’ll be right down!” she shouted, then closed the window. “I have to go let them in. I’ll turn the TV on for you and you stay in there and watch while I get rid of them. Then we’ll find the wand. What does it look like, anyway?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to make sure I don’t accidentally sell it to them, that’s why. Does it look the same here as—as in your world?”

  He nodded. “It should. It’s just…a wand. A twisted length of wood, pale wood, and smooth. Hazelwood. There is a hole in one end.”

  “Great.” Pru grabbed a box. “Twisted pale wand with a hole in it. I won’t let them have anything that looks remotely like that, okay? Now grab another box and follow me.”

  Chapter Five

  Kym glanced at the splotches of dried ice cream marring the otherwise shiny dark wood floor of the hall. Her lip curled up a little in the center. “You have a lovely home, Prudence.”

  Bitch.

  Pru moved to her left, planting her bare right foot firmly over the largest splotch, and fixed what she hoped looked like a gracious smile on her face. “I’ve set some boxes in the front parlor, if you guys want to—”

  Kym’s boyfriend Kristof, an angular man with pale, pointed fingers and a pale, pointed face to match, brushed past her as if she wasn’t even there and seated himself on the antique couch with a flourish. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars for the sofa.” Sometime in the past, Kristof had affected a Germanic accent. Years later, i
t still sounded fake.

  It’s worth fifteen times that, at least. “Sorry, I’m not selling any furniture. But I think you’ll be happy with what I do have—”

  “You’ll have to sell some furniture, won’t you, Pru?” Kym settled herself next to Kristof, her knees pressed together. “I mean, you don’t have a job, right?”

  “I’m not selling any furniture right now, but thanks for your concern, Kym. The things in the boxes are for sale, and there are one or two more boxes in the attic I can bring down later if needed.” Pru clenched her fists so tightly that little half-moon indents formed in her palms, like tiny hoofprints across her soft skin.

  Kristof started digging in the first box he grabbed, pulling out items and setting them none-too gently on the table. A vase, a clock, a couple of candlesticks…some china serving dishes with a name on the bottom even Pru recognized. Her heart twisted. Those were pretty…

  No. She had a set just as pretty in the china cabinet, ones Gran had used and loved, ones they’d eaten Thanksgiving and Christmas and birthday dinners off of for Pru’s entire life. Those mattered. The stuff Gran shoved in boxes in the attic didn’t.

  Besides, Gran would have wanted her to be able to afford to live here, right? She would have wanted Pru to be allowed to keep studying witchcraft as well, right?

  Especially given her own involvement in such matters. Why had she kept that secret?

  “I’m sorry, what?” Too late, she realized Kristof and Kym were both staring at her.

  “I said, is there a clean bathroom I can use?” Kym stood over her, adjusting the strap of her tan leather tote.

  No, my bathrooms are all filthy.

  You need the money, you want to stay in the coven…

  “Of course. Upstairs, straight across the hall.” She hated to send Kym upstairs, but the downstairs bathroom was not only small and cramped, but held Pru’s collection of diet and skin care books and perfect Kym didn’t need to see those. Kym could use the impersonal upstairs bathroom.

  She’d closed the bedroom door just in case, so Royd’s presence wouldn’t be an issue—it wouldn’t anyway, with Kym unable to see him, but best not to worry anyway and the—

  “I will give you ten dollars for this,” Kristof said in his ridiculously formal speech, holding up a Haviland china gravy boat Pru knew had to be at least a hundred years old.

  Time to haggle.

  * * * * *

  Kym washed her hands in the surprisingly luxurious bathroom and dried them on a soft, ivory-colored towel. How unfair that Prudence inherited something like this, with its perfect lines and all that gorgeous wooden trim outside. It looked like a wedding cake, this house, and the inside was even nicer.

  At least, it was nicer. Who knew how long it would stay that way, with Prudence dripping Goddess-knows-what all over the floors like that? It wasn’t very nice of her to think of poor Prudence that way, but sometimes she just couldn’t help it. She applied a little more lipstick, gave herself a smile and headed back out into the hall.

  One day she and Kristof would have a place like this. Even better than this. Bigger. With a bigger yard, so the kids they would have could play outside with the nanny all they wanted.

  From the front parlor rose the low hum of Kristof and Prudence discussing the items Prudence brought downstairs for them. In those filthy boxes!

  There had to be nicer things too. Kym knew there were. In that parlor alone sat a Meissen vase and a set of candlesticks that looked to Kym’s experienced eyes like pure silver.

  She paused for a minute at the top of the stairs. Up here, the floor was carpeted. No one would hear her if she just peeked into some of the other bedrooms. Just out of curiosity, not to snoop! Kym didn’t snoop. And it wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of nice things of her own. What her salary at the public TV station didn’t pay for, her daddy did. And what Daddy didn’t pay for, Kristof did, including her sweet little car.

  No, Kym had more than enough. But who wouldn’t be curious, alone here in one of the finest homes in town?

  No one. It would be stupid not to just have a quick look, she decided.

  The first room must have been Prudence’s grandmother’s. The curtains were drawn shut, the air still and silent. Kym shivered and closed the door. Having a look around the house was one thing. Wandering around in a dead woman’s bedroom was another entirely.

  From behind the door opposite drifted soft voices. Kym paused, then heard an engine start up. There must be a TV in there. Trust Prudence to have a television in her bedroom. She peeked around the door into the empty room. A mess, just as she expected. Clothes strewn all over the floor, towels lying in heaps, sheets tangled at the foot of the bed. The pale walls and delicate flower pattern of the curtains and comforter was pretty, though.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something move. Her gasp seemed to echo, even over the car chase happening on the TV.

  Nothing was there in the doorway leading to the bathroom, but Kym swore for a moment she’d seen something…a man, tall and broad…

  Okay, this house was spooky. Good thing she was a witch. Lady Ravenancia said Kym was the most promising of all the new students. She’d even promised to let Kym try her hand at actually doing some necromancy, not just watching.

  She couldn’t wait. She’d finally get a chance to prove herself, to prove to the other members how much more advanced she was than them.

  A ladder descended from a neat square hole in the ceiling of the third bedroom Kym entered. That had to be the attic.

  It was. The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows into the already steamy room made Kym want to strip off her clothes and sit down, just like she did at the saunas at her health club. Especially when Kristof used his after-hours key and went with her. Most especially when Kristof invited Marla to come along as well. The thought made blood rush to her pussy. Leaning back on the bare pine boards, with Marla’s face buried between her legs and Kristof’s cock firm and hot in her mouth…

  For a moment, she considered lifting her skirt and slipping her fingers into her panties, leaning against one of the stacks of boxes and letting the heat of the sun and the teasing of her fingertips bring herself to what she knew would be a shuddering orgasm here in the dusty silence.

  She didn’t want a quickie, though, and a quickie would be all she had time for. She wanted to take her time, wanted Kristof to take his. Maybe it was just time to go home and start the ritual they planned for later. That silly Prudence wasn’t offering them any of the good stuff, anyway. Not like…

  Something caught her eye. The top edge of what looked like a lid. She tiptoed over to investigate further.

  A cookie jar. And if Kym wasn’t mistaken—which, of course, she wasn’t—this was a Victorian-era Royal Doulton cookie jar, only about seven inches high but perfectly made and painted. Gold stripes crisscrossed the buttery yellow color of the painted china. Delicate roses decorated the oval-shaped body. Kym’s nose gave an acquisitive twitch. The jar had to be worth at least four hundred dollars, if not more. And it was just junked up here, shoved in a box! The carelessness, the cruelty. Kym would rescue the little jar, that’s what she would do.

  She slipped it into her oversized purse, careful not to rattle it as she wedged it between her wallet and makeup bag, and put her feet back on the ladder. In a minute Prudence would start to wonder what was going on. It wouldn’t do to look like the kind of guest who wandered around uninvited.

  * * * * *

  Royd opened the mirrored door above the sink and peered into the little cabinet behind it. A few bottles of foul-smelling liquids with labels like “nail polish remover” and “rubbing alcohol” sat in between sweet perfumes and little pots of colored powders and creams. Advil. Tylenol. Midol. Strange and fascinating names for what appeared to be little candies.

  But Prudence didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d hide her candies here among the stinky removers, so he decided not to try them.

 
; A small sound from the bedroom made him turn, then quickly duck back against the wall. The woman from the clearing poked her nose into the room, peering in as though she was viewing some sort of exhibit.

  Wait, why was he ducking? She hadn’t seen him. He shrugged and stepped back in front of the doorway, but the woman was already gone. He heard a creaking that sounded like her feet on the stairs and thought about following, but no. Prudence might not like that.

  It still bothered him, though. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he finished examining the bathroom and headed back into the bedroom.

  The TV irritated him. He moved forward to turn it off, but stopped when the pictures on the screen changed. A man and a woman talked up close, right into each other’s faces. They kissed, deeply, then more deeply as music swelled in the background. Now this was interesting. Did Prudence watch this sort of thing a lot?

  Sadly, the picture changed again before the couple removed their clothing. Royd picked up the remote and started hitting the arrow button Pru showed him earlier.

  A man sitting at a desk, talking…

  A woman, banging a little hammer on a desk and yelling…

  An auditorium full of women, cheering about something. Scary, that.

  A car going very, very fast while other cars came at it. He stopped and watched, dimly aware that his mouth hung open, but not really caring. He’d never seen anything like it.

  One of the cars crashed through a wall and flew into the air. The others stopped. Amazing.

  Then people started talking and he changed the channel again.