by N. R. Larry
She scanned me up and down. “Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said,” I said, closing the gap between us. “And you need to explain yourself.”
“Explain myself,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. Then, she smiled.
“There is no amusement in this.”
“I agree.”
“And yet, you’re smiling.”
Her hair jerked forward, like sea-snakes ready to strike, before freezing in the air, and sliding down her back. “I’m smiling because you dare ask me for an explanation. You are mine. If anyone has need of an explanation, it is me.”
I tilted my head and tried to see her through the cold, clear focus of what I was. A killer. If anyone could tell if that’s what she was, it was me. Sure, Jett had killed. He was even good at it and took a certain joy in the act. But, it was an animal-instinct. There wasn’t any choice. And to be a killer, a true taker of lives, choice had to be involved.
But, I couldn’t see her that way. Not completely. Part of me wanted to dissect her, while the other part wanted to kneel at her feet. I clenched my jaw, and backed away, hoping that breathing room would aid my focus.
“It is true that I am yours,” I whispered. “But it is also true that we are equals. You never would have chosen me, or any of us, if we weren’t.” I forced myself to look at her. “You felt what I felt from that human… That he was telling the truth. Same from the ghost. Now, tell me what is going on.”
Something flashed across her face. Something that made my heart pound with love. Vulnerability. She studied me for so long that I started to suspect she had retreated into her thoughts and forgotten I was there. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down.
“You’re right.” She tapped her foot a few times, and then went still. “I did sense the truth in him. I felt the truth and grief pouring out of Dottie.” She sniffled, and her eyes sparkled with tears, flashing from green to brown. “The only problem is, I’ve never seen either of them in my life.”
I considered her words in silence. “You don’t know that.”
Her gaze swept to me, and it was cutting. “Meaning?”
“Dottie. You have no idea what she looked like. You’ve seen only her ghost.”
“I also know I’ve never taken a human life,” she hissed, and the sea witch was back. I didn’t need to test her with my power to know she was telling the truth. The vulnerability I sensed earlier was gone, and my blood pumped faster for a different reason.
“Then, how do you explain the fact that they were telling the truth?”
Slowly, her gaze met mine. There was iron in her stare. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “But there is a spell that will work out what is going on.” Clicking her tongue, she pressed herself against me. “Don’t ever. Pull anything like this. Ever. Again.”
She started toward the door and I grabbed her at the elbow. “I will always do what I feel is necessary.” Jerking her closer, I added, “You would punish me for that?”
She stared at me, eyes void of anything I could readily read. My heart pounded in my ears, and an odd feeling washed over me as I stared back at her. Fear. But more than that, excitement, more excitement than I had ever felt. My cock hardened in response to it.
“Punishment,” she whispered with something like amusement in her voice. “Maybe that is exactly what you deserve.” She scanned me up and down. “But first, get downstairs and wake everyone up.” Pulling out of my grasp, she sauntered toward the door.
I narrowed my eyes, snapped my fingers, and shot an orb of contained water over her head. It knocked the door closed, and then rained down all over her. She spun around, mouth gaped, ready to tell me off.
“No,” I said before she could say anything.
Her eyes flashed, and her hair shot off her shoulders and swam around her head in warning. Steeling my resolve, I inched toward her. The strands of her hair lengthened and floated toward me.
“Maybe it’s you that deserves punishment,” I said, running my gaze up and down her body. In all the seven seas, no one had a body to match her.
“Conway—” She hissed my name between her teeth, and my body pulsed with need.
“I’ll do what you asked.” I flicked my tongue across my bottom lip. “In five minutes.”
The danger left her eyes, replacing itself with confusion. Shaking her head, she asked, “Five minutes?”
I nodded, letting my power course through me while keeping it contained so that it wouldn’t influence her. “For five minutes, I’m going to punish you.” I reached out and gripped her around the waist, pulling her to me. “Then, and only then, will I wake everyone.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and she lowered her face so that I could not make out her expression. I did, however, feel the tension in her body. “No one disobeys me,” she said, and there was a tremble in her voice that made my knees weak.
I swallowed hard, and then forced my power to the corners of myself. The cool blankness spread out and granted me a degree of control. Slowly, I reached down and grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled. “Hold this up for me.” I made it a command, the same way I did when I called people to me, only there was no power in my voice.
She had a choice.
Her jaw clenched as she turned into me. “Keep in mind, Conway,” she said at the end of a breath. “I give as good as I get.”
I leaned forward and placed my lips at her ear. “I’m counting on it.” I clenched my teeth together. “Hold it. Up.”
The next few moments were a battle of wills. Her emotions flooded me. I tasted each one. Excitement. Rage. Love. Actual love. Feeling that from her almost did me in. I wanted to drop down before her. To place myself at her feet. But I didn’t. There would be plenty of time for that. In that moment, I wanted her to give her will to me. Freely.
She bit into her bottom lip. Then, she held her dress in place below her breasts. I slid my hand down the curve of her body, wrapped a hand under that firm ass, and lifted her into the air. Carrying her in one hand, I took her and pressed her against the wall. “Five minutes,” I muttered, pressing my other hand against her stomach. Her muscles flexed under my touch. I glanced to my left at the digital clock and noted the time.
I splayed out the hand I had wrapped around her ass and forced her down, letting her sit in my palm. Then, I slid my fingers inside of her. She groaned, thrust forward and grabbed my hair. “Conway,” she said with a gasp.
I froze. My eyelids fluttered, and I almost lost control. “Seven seas.” I swallowed. My cock throbbed against my clothing. “You’re so wet.”
Her head rested on my shoulder. “Touch me.”
I clenched my jaw and gave into the chill that was my power. The desire that burned in my veins rushed back. My surroundings dulled. I homed my focus in on her as I pressed my fingers deep inside. Her moans tickled the edges of my power. I massaged my thumb firm against her clit. Her legs widened as her hips rocked toward me.
“Yes,” she groaned. “Don’t stop.”
I set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of her with my fingers while my thumb rubbed her clit. She made my fingers slick. Every part of me wanted to pull out and lick her off my fingers, but I didn’t. I kept going, trying not to think about the way she squirmed into and out of my touch. Trying to ignore the way she tightened around my fingers.
Then, when she was close, I stopped.
She gasped, digging her nails into me.
I pinched her clit between my thumb and index finger. “Three more minutes,” I rasped, rubbing my fingers back and forth across her clit. Her back arched and she tried to speak, but I left her breathless. I felt her come close a second time. She was at the edge.
Then, I stopped again.
She let out a whimper as she stared at me. “W-what are you doing?”
“You can barely speak,” I said, ignoring her question. Without saying anything else, I thrust three fingers inside her. Her body tightened. I moved slow. “You’re so wet,”
I taunted, darting my gaze to the clock. “You want me to fuck you?”
Her jaw clenched, and she trembled so hard I almost lost my hold on her. “Yeah,” I growled as she came close. “You want me to fuck you.” I pushed my fingers deeper into her. “Are you close?”
With another gasp, she gripped my arms and moaned.
“Are you close, my future queen?”
She tightened so hard around my fingers that for a moment, I thought she might rip them off.
“I’m close,” she whispered, grabbing my hand, trying to guide me to the spot that would finish her. “Almost,” she whimpered. “Almost.”
I gritted my teeth and gathered my strength. Then, I pulled away and placed her on her feet. Backing up, I licked my fingers to get a taste of her. “Five minutes.” I half smiled and bowed my head. “I’ll continue with this tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?” she asked through a series of heavy breaths. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I licked my lips and started for the door. With my hand on the knob, I turned slightly. “I’ll wake everyone. You should prepare.” Before she could respond, I ducked out the door and closed it behind me.
14
Zarya
His feet echoed on the steps and I stood there with the hem of my dress tangled in my fingers. I blinked several times trying to process what just happened. The feel of him against me. The way his voice buzzed in my ear. There was something about being at the mercy of his touch that was unnerving in a way I’d never experienced before. My legs trembled so violently I had to clamp my hands over them to stop the shaking. Panting, I backed into the wall and ran my hand down my stomach and toward the folds of my core. My eyelids fluttered shut.
I needed relief, but something stopped me. There was no doubt I could rid myself of some of the yearning he left me with, but it wouldn’t be enough. Besides, there was something exciting about giving into the pain of it. He had started a game with me and giving myself relief would be cheating. I shook my hands out, took in a few deep breaths, and then ran my fingers through my hair. It was a sexy kind of hurt, and the more pain I let myself be in, the crueler the payback I planned would be.
My lips turned up into a half smile. From downstairs there was a low thud, followed by a pained moan, reminding me that I had more important things going on. I had to find out the truth of what Orson and Dottie had told me, and for that, I needed to work a spell I’d only worked once in my life. I scanned the room until my gaze landed on my trunk. I sauntered over to it on legs that felt heavy. I curled my hand inward and then up, as if I were tossing something into the air.
The heavy lid groaned and crawled open. Peering in, I removed my book of rituals and a small pouch of aragonite sand. I placed the book on the bed, sat next to it, and opened the pouch. A faint, silver light pulsed, and what little sand I still had whispered against the bottom of the bag. I briefly closed my eyes and pictured the ritual I needed. A thick strand of my hair slithered away from my head and flipped the book open.
I turned and scanned the page. My heart twisted in my chest. Shaking my hands out, I closed the pouch and took a few deep breaths. “What are you afraid of?” I muttered to myself. Something at the back of my thoughts whispered—the truth. I winced and stood. My hair wrapped around my book, slamming it shut. I closed a fist around the pouch of aragonite. There was so little of it left, but it would be worth it. I needed the faith of my familiars restored. More than that, I needed to get rid of the doubt clawing in my own gut. Nodding, as if need a bit more convincing, I finally headed downstairs.
Everyone but Orson was awake. Their gazes flickered to me, and I paused at the bottom of the steps and forced confidence into my movements. Without looking away, I said, “I’ll need all of you for this ritual.” I sauntered into the mess of a living room. “Is everyone ready?”
Jett stood and blinked away the fog in his eyes. “What ritual?”
I placed my spell book on the coffee table and said, “The ritual of stolen memory.”
A silence fell over the room, which I knew it would.
Lowe shuffled forward and peered at me with doubt in his eyes. “And, whose memory are you entering?”
“Dottie’s,” I said, as if it should have been obvious.
The three of them exchanged glances.
“If anyone has an objection to raise, do it out loud.”
Something twisted Lowe’s expression. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the baggy shorts he had taken to wearing. “It’s a very powerful ritual.”
“Which is why I will need you all.” My gaze homed in on the door to the metal vault at the center of the room. “And we’ll have to open the portal.”
“Going into the memory of a frickin’ ghost.” Jett clapped and let out a boyish laugh. “Let’s do it.”
I wanted to smile. If there was anyone that was always up for anything, it was Jett. Still, I forced a stern expression onto my face. “This isn’t a game. If I get caught—”
“You could get trapped in the past.” Lowe cringed. “Not only that, in the past memory of a dead woman. Haunted on who knows what kind of plane of existence.”
I stared at him, trying to work out what was going on in his head. There was something about the way he was holding himself that didn’t feel right. I had known him longer than the others, and now he stood in front of me, glancing away, his visible hand drumming a pattern against the side of his leg. It wasn’t like him.
“Well, then,” I said, waving off the confusion I felt as merely a case of the nerves. Perhaps I was seeing things that weren’t there. “I suppose the answer to that is to have nothing go wrong.” Inching toward them, I peered down at Orson. “But, I have to know how what this human says can be both a lie, and the truth.” When I looked up, my gaze landed on Lowe. “What is it?”
He jumped, as if I had caught him off guard.
“You’re red,” I went on, inching closer to him. “And, you’re sweating.”
He swiped a hand across his forehead and shrugged. “Of course I am.” His jaw twitched, and then set into a hard line. “There has to be another way.”
Conway stood from the arm of the couch. “Zarya, maybe you should take Marlowe’s advice.”
“Oh, come on you pussies,” Jett said in a bored voice. “We haven’t done magic this big in a long time.”
Conway stepped around Orson’s sleeping form. “I know you’re anxious to know the truth. But I can pry it out of this human.” He half laughed, half scoffed. “Humans are the most pliable. Give me a few minutes alone with him.”
I held my hand up. “Enough, we are doing the spell.”
“Zarya,” Conway hissed. “When have you ever known Marlowe’s advice to be wrong?”
I lowered my gaze to the pouch of sand and ran my thumbs over the rough, black material. “I understand this is drastic,” I whispered. “But I can have no doubt between us.” Opening the pouch, I poured the last of the silver sand into the palm of my hand. It swept across my skin, tickling, and the air around us buzzed with magical energy. The smell of salt and sun tickled my nose. I knew they felt it too. The pull of home. The need to create something that didn’t already exist.
I took in a shaky breath. “Are you with me?”
“Damn right,” Jett said.
“Fine,” Conway echoed.
When he didn’t answer, I looked up. Slowly, he raised his gaze to meet mine and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
I stepped over to him first. Pinching a bit of the sand between my fingers, I tossed it into the air. The grains floated up, then froze before rushing to meet his skin. His eyes burned with silver light. He groaned, almost in pleasure as his muscles twitched, and his skin darkened.
My breath came in rushed bursts as I repeated the process with Jett, and finally, Conway. Because I started with him, I used the last of the sand on Lowe, combing it through my hair. I let my eyes close and enjoyed the heat as it spread through my muscles. My hair sighed and l
engthened to my ankles. Opening my eyes, I said, “We’re ready.”
I sauntered to the portal, kneeled in front of it, and traced my magical signature into the cool metal. The three of them surrounded me in a circle. Their power beat inside of me as sure as my own heart. I stood and took in slow, steady breaths to let my body and mind get used to feeling them in this way again.
“It’s been too long,” I said, more to myself than to them.
They didn’t answer, but years of practicing with them almost allowed me to feel their thoughts. I peered between Conway and Jett. Behind them, on the counter, the magical container with Dottie inside rattled. Green light spilled through the crack in the middle. I snapped. An orb of water bubbled out of my palm and I directed it toward Dottie. The container sailed through the room and then stropped, bobbing up and down above the still closed portal.
“Let’s get started,” I muttered, closing my eyes. I clapped, and water shot out of my hands, formed a mid-air stream, and darted over, and between Jett, Conway, Marlowe, and finally, back to me. “I call upon the might of the sea.” Water splashed over me, and across the circle, Jett trembled. A low growl tumbled out of his throat. A dark energy, filled with snapping teeth stomped into the middle of the circle, rattling glasses in the kitchen cabinets. My lips tingled. “I call upon the knowledge of the sea.”
Lowe gasped and shifted slightly. A golden light wrapped around him. Moments later a conch, crafted from the same energy, swiveled around his head, and joined the magic buzzing at the center of the circle.
“Finally,” I said, barely able to hear myself over the pounding of my heart and the electric crackle of magic. “I call upon the spirit of the sea.”
Calm pressed against me. Conway didn’t make a sound, but his power pressed against all of us and made the working feel right. A spiral of white light danced across his bottom lip before reappearing inside the circle.
“I give to this working, myself,” I whispered, clamping my hands together. “The magic of the sea.” Silver light in the form of a trident burst out of me. My breath hitched as it speared the other elements and fused them into one. Moments later, the metal door at our feet quaked. Then, it shot open.