Body Temperature and Rising - Book One of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy

by K D Grace

  He pressed tight against her. ‘I will eventually have my way, Marie Warren, and the sooner I get it, the fewer curiosity shop witches I shall have to play with to appease my bad temper.’ Suddenly he spoke so close to her ear it felt like he was inside her head. ‘Their lives are in your hands, Marie Warren, yours and Mr Meriwether’s. Remember that when next he is called to Raven Crag, for I promise the next corpse he finds will not be so easily identifiable when I’ve had my way. Oh, and Marie, you are exquisite when you’re terrified, perhaps even more so than when you’re flushed with arousal.’

  As quickly as he came, he was gone, and Anderson and Sky found Marie in a foetal position, trembling on the floor of the cave.

  Tim’s face was pale and drawn when Anderson let him into Elemental Cottage. ‘Where’s Marie,’ he asked. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘I’m here.’ She took him in her arms, savouring his warmth and his solidness, but knowing he was as shaken as she was. She swallowed hard and found her voice. ‘It was Serina, then.’

  She felt him nod against her shoulder and tighten his embrace. He really didn’t need to say. They all knew.

  ‘Marie’s had a visit from Deacon, while you were away,’ Tara said. ‘He was only too happy to crow about Serina.’ Whatever Tara added under her breath, Marie figured probably wasn’t fit for proper company.

  They all adjourned to the study, and when both Tim and Marie finished telling their stories, the room was silent for a long moment, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Tim spoke at last. ‘Everything was exactly as Deacon said it would be, except for the scrying mirror. We never found that. Do you suppose he took it?’

  ‘He couldn’t have,’ Tara said. ‘When ghosts leave the flesh, they can only take what they died with.’

  ‘Still,’ Tim said, ‘I can’t help wondering why he felt it was so important to mention the mirror unless it really was possible for Marie to put him back the same way she released him.’

  ‘Come to think of it,’ Marie said, ‘other than our first encounter on Maiden Moor, Deacon has only ever approached me through mirrors or glass.’

  ‘And you said your compass was misplaced, is that not so?’ Anderson asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘You usually wear it around your neck, do you not?’

  She nodded again. ‘I suppose it would be reflective enough but it was overcast.’

  ‘Not at the beginning of the day, it wasn’t,’ Tara said.

  Marie felt the skin crawl up the back of her neck. ‘Then you think he was that close to me all the time?’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Tim said. ‘He’s never used a mirror with me.’

  ‘Of course not. It’s easiest, and best for him to approach you through your dreams,’ Tara said. ‘Like we talked about this morning. He’s using both your strengths and your vulnerabilities. He can do this because you’re not yet well trained. Until you are, your strengths will also be your weak points. On the other hand, he fancies approaching at that juncture where your strengths lie. It’s sort of a power play, if you will, a way of demoralising you, demoralising all of us.

  ‘Marie, I want you to try something for me, if you would please?’ Tara said.

  Marie nodded, leaning forward in her seat.

  ‘Look into your mirror and think about Serina Ravenmoor. Think about her as you knew her in as much detail as you can.’

  Marie pulled the silver chain with the mirror on it from between her breasts, where it had warmed to her body temperature. For a few seconds, she breathed deeply, gazing at her own reflection, as if by doing so she could feel the ebb and flow of her own body. The room around her was silent, but she could hear the breath of every one present, including the ghosts. She could hear heartbeats, shifting of clothing against skin, even blood flowing through veins. And then a current of heat started low in her sacrum, shot upward through her spine and burst in her head in a flash of blue black darkness, leaving only the mirror itself visible to her.

  A swell of sickness clenched cold and tight in her belly rushing down past the darkness and dissipating like waves receding on a beach, leaving her breathless and drenching her in cold sweat. Somewhere from a long way off she heard Tara encouraging her to stay with it, to focus on Serina Ravenmoor.

  Struggling to keep from disgracing herself further than she already had with the earlier panic attack, Marie did as she was asked, clenching her jaw tight, trying to breathe deeply, focusing on the mirror until her eyes hurt.

  ‘Marie, trust me,’ she heard Tara say. ‘I know it feels bad at the moment. But please trust me. It’ll be all right.’

  These days, Marie wasn’t so confident that anything would ever be all right again, but she did trust Tara.

  There was a roar in her ears like a waterfall, and suddenly the blackness shifted and changed. There were night sounds all around, and she was on Raven Crag, standing on the very edge of the precipice. She was chilled and she hurt. She hurt badly, and yet she had set aside the pain, as though it belonged to someone else. Her fingers cramped from clutching the mirror so tightly. And when she lifted it to her face, it was his face she saw over her shoulder leering at her with eyes like fire.

  And she knew him. For the first time since he had come to her, she knew him for what he was. And for a split second she was alone in the universe, in a place where he couldn’t touch her. That was all the time she had. He wanted her to jump. She knew he did, and in the end he would drive her to it in terror, though not before he had the chance to fully reveal himself to her. But she already knew who he was, what he was. He wouldn’t forgive lightly her stealing his revelation.

  But for this split second she could deny him that satisfaction. For this split second she could deny him the pleasure of hurting her further. For this split second her will was her own. Clutching the mirror with his image caught in it, she stepped into emptiness, and as she fell, she had the presence of mind for one last act. She flung everything he had been to her, everything he had done to her, all of it back through the mirror, and in her mind, called out the only name she could trust. Tim Meriwether.

  That was all.

  Marie came back to herself in Tim’s arms, her mirror still clutched in her hand. For a second the faces of the others swam in and out of focus, then everything became clear. ‘I saw his face,’ she said, amazed at how calm she suddenly felt. I mean his real face, the way Serina Ravenmoor saw him just before she jumped to her death. And I saw all of what he did to her.’ In spite of herself she blushed, and in spite of the fact that she couldn’t stop shivering, she felt aroused. ‘She jumped to get away from him, and she did it with a clear head.’

  Fiori brought her a glass of water and she drank it down in thirsty gulps, then Anderson settled the throw from the sofa around her shoulders. In her head, she sorted through everything she had seen in the mirror. It was as though she had actually been Serina Ravenmoor for the few days she had known Deacon. The detail of it all would have been terrifying if she had not also found herself so drawn to him. Every time he made love to Serina it felt as though it had been her he entered. And suddenly it hit her.

  ‘He never came.’

  Instantly all eyes were on her. ‘What?’ Tara said.

  ‘He never came. In all the times he was with Serina Ravenmoor, in all the times they had sex, he never came, not once, and yet he was hard all the time. When he was with me, he was always hard.’

  When Fiori realised the attention in the room had turned to her, she shifted uncomfortably in the chair and raised an unconscious hand to her throat. ‘We had sex a lot,’ she said avoiding everyone’s gaze. ‘But no. He never came. He said he was holding his energy for when it most mattered.’ She forced herself to look up at everyone. ‘He said the power of sex could build upon itself indefinitely, and he bragged about how long he’d held himself, how long it had been since he last came.’ Fiori shook herself as though she were waking up from a deep sleep. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why I never told anyone. It’s just that …�
�� Her voice drifted off and her eyes misted. ‘I really don’t like to talk about it.’

  Tara moved to her side and pushed her hair away from her face. ‘But you have to talk about it, Fiori. We all know what we face. The tiniest detail may be important.’ She turned her attention to Sky, who shook her head.

  ‘He never came with me either, though I wasn’t alive long enough to think that so strange.’

  Still shivering a bit from her scrying experience, Marie pulled the throw tighter around her shoulders. ‘He came before he died. It’s the last thing he did.’

  The room was suddenly deathly silent, all attention on Marie, as she continued. ‘When he tried to take me at Lacewing cottage the last time, I saw a flashback, almost like what I saw just now through my mirror. There was a woman, a blonde. She had a lead pipe in her hand. He grabbed it from her, almost with his last breath, said something about a sacrifice. Then he shoved it up his arse.’ Marie found herself blushing hard. ‘And I saw him ejaculate just before his heart stopped, just before his breath left him.’

  There was a long silence. Both Tim and Anderson moved closer to Marie, and she found comfort in their nearness.

  ‘So he feeds on sexual energy and holds on to it,’ Tim said, thinking out loud. ‘And he’s been holding on to it for all these years. Is that possible?’

  ‘The holding of sexual energy is an ancient practice,’ Tara said. ‘In some ways that’s what celibacy is supposed to be, holding that sexual energy for another kind of creative force. Some eastern religions practice it, and of course, Catholicism. In some places it was traditional for soldiers to abstain before battle, for players of sport not to have sex with their wives or lovers before they played. It’s not unusual. But that he’s held it for all of these years while at the same time he’s drawn to and feeds upon the sexual energy of others is staggering.’

  ‘And may offer a clue to his possible demise,’ Anderson said, as though he were reading her mind. ‘Clearly he is drawn to the sexual energy with which Marie and Tim Meriwether have infused our little family. They are the only living members upon which he can feed. As far as I have seen, he has no interest in the sexual energies of those of us who no longer live, and of course it is not Tara’s sexuality in which he is interested.’

  Tara bit her lip and nodded agreement. ‘I’m the captive audience for whatever show he intends to put on involving Marie and Tim.’

  ‘We’re the entertainment,’ Tim said, squeezing Marie’s hand.

  ‘If we’re the stars in his performance, and at the same time he’s drawn to our sexual energy,’ Marie said, ‘then we can also be the bait to draw him in.’

  ‘Marie,’ Tara held her gaze. ‘You do understand what that means, what you’re up against.’ She looked up at Tim. ‘What you’ll both be up against.’

  Suddenly both Tim and Anderson held Marie’s hands in a suicide grip, and she gave as good as she got. ‘We’ve known from the beginning what we’re here for,’ Marie said, ‘and I think I can speak for both of us when I say I’ve had enough. I want it over with. I want Deacon gone.’ This time the trembling that shook Marie was not panic but anger. Everyone in the room nodded agreement.

  Tara blew out a harsh breath. ‘We aren’t sending you as sacrificial lambs, Marie. Not this time. You may be the bait, but we know what you’re capable of, and what you can do together has yet to be tested. You won’t just be the bait. You’ll also be the trap.’ She looked around at the three ghosts who sat silently. ‘And the Elemental Coven, well we’re not to be trifled with.’

  Marie squared her shoulders. ‘Then what do we do?’

  Tara studied both Tim and Marie for a long moment while fingering the pentacle at her throat. At last she spoke. ‘You’ll need to go home to Lacewing Cottage, both of you. And you’ll need to take Anderson with you, and the three of you should have no problem drawing Deacon in.’

  ‘The three of us? I don’t understand.’

  Anderson laid a warm hand on Marie’s shoulder. ‘It is sex magic, my love.’

  Tim shifted nervously next to Marie, but said nothing.

  ‘I need you to be all right with this, Tim,’ Tara said.

  He spoke between barely parted lips. ‘I’ll do whatever has to be done. Nobody wants the bastard gone more than I do.’ He shot Fiori a quick glance.

  ‘Good. Deacon will be drawn to the hottest part of the flame, and you three, I have no doubt, will generate an inferno. Add to that the fact that Anderson is a master of Ethereal magic, and I think we’ll be ready for him.’ She sighed. ‘As ready as we can be, anyway. The rest of us will cast the spell and make ready to draw him in and bind him.’

  Chapter 20

  Fiori would not allow the return to Lacewing Cottage before stuffing everyone with roast chicken and all the trimmings topped off with raspberry and white chocolate pavlova. They would all need their strength, she said, and none of the Elementals ever argued with Fiori where food was concerned. But by the time the last of the pavlova was eaten and the coffee was served up, Marie had the sneaking suspicion something else other than the fabulous meal was going on.

  She sat between Tim and Anderson, and even if she hadn’t been able to see that they both had fly-bursting hard-ons, the way they both squirmed and shifted and the smell of Tim’s heat would have been a dead giveaway. She was sure they both could smell her lust, even above the delicious scent of the meal, and she was more than a little bit worried that the cushion on her chair would be wet before the table was cleared. It was early evening when the three finally left for Lacewing Farm, amid a flurry of embraces and well-wishes from the three remaining witches.

  Anderson took Marie by the hand and pulled her into the back seat of Tim’s Land Rover. Before Tim had the engine started, the ghost had her blouse open and a heavy-nippled breast excavated and pressed to his lips. Up front Tim adjusted the mirror so that Marie could see his eyes. Then before he started the engine, she heard the zip of his fly, and he wriggled and shifted in the seat. She saw his eyelids flutter, heard the hitch in his breath, then he revved the motor and they were off.

  It wasn’t a long drive, but Marie was sure the windows would have been steamed had they not been wide open. Anderson had greedily freed both her breasts and suckled them alternately while one hand found its way up under her short denim skirt and into her panties. All the while his erection, straining at his black trousers, rubbed and gouged against her thigh. Though she couldn’t see what Tim was doing, he was definitely driving with one hand on the wheel, and the way he was struggling to breathe left little doubt where his other hand was. That only made Anderson’s stroking and tweaking feel even hotter.

  They barely got out of the Land Rover before Tim, making no effort to zip himself in – though Marie doubted he could if he wanted to – dragged her bodily from Anderson’s gropings. Then he took her mouth for himself and yanked aside the crotch of her panties to finger his way in between her creamy folds.

  Anderson shoved in next to him, as close as he could get, and went to work kneading her breasts and kissing and nibbling any bare skin he could find. There was getting to be more and more of it by the second, as they all three stumbled and pushed their way toward the door of Tim’s cottage.

  ‘They did something to us, didn’t they?’ Tim gasped when he came up for air. ‘Some sort of spell.’ Then he went back to eating her mouth as though he hadn’t just had Fiori’s four course meal.

  ‘Magic was not necessary,’ Anderson breathed, nipping at a tender spot on Marie’s nape. ‘We three are not in need of their assistance where the pleasures of the flesh are concerned.’

  They shoved and groped and pushed their way into the lounge. There was a fire built in the fireplace and an open bottle of wine breathing on the coffee table, accompanied by three glasses. Marie figured Tiggs and Finney had taken care of that on Fiori’s orders.

  As both men tugged her down into the pile of cushions on the stripped wood floor, she took the initiative. She guided Anderson’s
right hand from her breasts down to rest on Tim’s erection, which was shoving at her thigh. And it was as though everything was suddenly freeze framed. The only sound, the only hint of motion was their own desperate breathing and the crackle and dance of the fire.

  Tim shoved his way free of the tangle of arms and legs and crab-walked back against the sofa, his chest heaving like it would explode, his eyes locked on Anderson.

  Marie held her breath, not knowing whether she should apologise or laugh and blow the whole thing off. She didn’t have to do either.

  Anderson gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and moved to sit next to Tim. ‘Intuition has long been one of my gifts, Tim Meriwether. Am I wrong in believing that you wish more from me than just to watch me share the pleasures of Marie’s body with you?’

  ‘No. No, you’re not wrong.’ Tim ran shaky fingers through his hair. Then he took a deep breath, and glanced from one of them to the other, his gaze coming once again to rest on Anderson. He squared his shoulders and offered a twitch of a smile. ‘No. You’re not wrong.’

  Anderson didn’t give him time to contemplate. His large hand slid to the nape of Tim’s neck, and he pulled him into a series of kisses, at first gentle and fleeting, little more than brushes of the lips, flicks of the tongue, like dragonflies skimming the surface of a pond. Tim’s nervousness was palpable in the charged atmosphere of the room. But so was his arousal.

  ‘I’ve never been with a man before,’ Tim whispered. ‘God that sounds so cliché.’

  Anderson cupped his stubbled cheek. ‘But you have imagined how it would be, have you not? All men have. It is a part of our nature to love our own flesh and the shape of it. Therefore we cannot but love it in others of our sex, though it may not be a love we consciously allow ourselves to feel.’ He nodded at Tim’s still bare penis. ‘If this is the gift you have been regularly offering up to our Marie, then I most certainly understand why sharing your bed pleases her so.’ He spoke no more, but took Tim’s erection deep into his mouth in long hungry slurps. And Tim’s startled gasp was quickly transmuted to little grunts of pleasure. With one hand, Anderson cupped and caressed Tim’s full balls, and with the other he stroked his own cock through the fabric of his trousers, Marie was amazed his fly could maintain integrity under such pressure.