by Lili Detlev
And apparently demons.
Though, despite his monstrous appearance, she had a hard time picturing Ramael as some creature sent from the depths of hell. After all, she didn’t even believe in it per se. And there was something about the creature that didn’t fit with what she imagined forces of darkness to be like. Yes, he’d been pissed at first. But as soon as he’d verified who she was, that all changed.
And then there were the cards.
Oh that wicked, wicked spread. She’d been very careful about what she’d said to him. But if he knew anything about tarot, Ramael would know that it wasn’t The Lovers card that signaled budding romance.
It was the Two of Cups.
#
As usual, Melinda was spending a Friday night in the library.
Focusing on classes has been rough that week. She’d been interviewed again by the state police, spoken to a university counselor about her ordeal, spoken to the university police, spoken to her parents, professors, and few close friends. She was damn near sick of the whole thing.
The driver of the car had woken up first and immediately confessed to the whole scheme. He even offered to testify against the others. The university moved quickly to suspend the fraternity. It sounded like all of the members involved would be expelled, once the investigation was complete, regardless of whether or not they were also prosecuted. Melinda secretly hoped that they would accept plea bargains. She definitely did not want to go through the trauma of a trial. And in her mind, justice had already been served, at least from a karmic standpoint. Two of the attackers were still being kept sedated. All of them would carry lifelong scars, and a couple might be disabled for the rest of their lives. She couldn’t say one way or another if further punishment would deter future assaults; in her experience, college kids did dumb and dangerous stuff regardless of the consequences.
She sighed as she closed a book on art history. This tome wasn’t for any class. She was looking at ancient paintings because she couldn’t get Ramael out of her mind.
It was ridiculous. If she’d spoken to the counselor about her encounter, she probably would have been told that she’d hallucinated the whole thing as a coping mechanism. And maybe she had. Every night she dreamed about the creature. Not distinctly. She’d be dreaming about whatever, and there was always a winged shadow lurking in the background. It never approached, never threatened. In fact, in her dreams she yearned to go to it and speak with it. But she was always too shy.
Not scared. Shy.
Because what if he wanted something far simpler and more primal than her soul? What if he wanted her?
“Ridiculous,” she said out loud.
“If you mean the pictures in that book, I agree with you. The idea of torturing souls for all time is completely ridiculous.”
The deep, gravelly voice made her jump out of her seat with a gasp. Her head whipped from side to side, and she clutched her throat when she saw Ramael perched on the cubicle desk beside hers. His fangs flashed in a perfectly wicked smile.
“How-what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“How did you get in here without being seen? You weren’t seen, right?”
“I’m a creature of the night. Even if there weren’t other ways to enter this building, if I can’t get past a bored student on desk duty, then I need to find another calling.”
She couldn’t help chuckling. As her heart returned to a semi-normal rhythm, Melinda sat back down. Ramael stayed where he was, perched slightly above her. She watched his gaze slide down her body, and realized that the black tank top she wore under a partly opened white button down revealed plenty of cleavage. Her face heated, and she shifted, trying to mask herself a bit from his interest.
“Will anyone see us talking?”
“We are hidden from sight for the time being.”
“What if someone sits on me? Can they do that?”
“I will convince them otherwise if they try.”
She really didn’t want to know what that would entail. Based on what he’d done to the frat guys, she doubted it would be pleasant to watch.
“So,” she glanced at the book, “you’re telling me these old paintings are full of shit.”
“Not really. They make wonderful allegories. Useful for keeping the masses on a moral path. But as far as depictions of the afterlife, yes, they are full of shit.”
“So what do demons do, if they aren’t torturing immoral souls?”
“First, we aren’t demons. We’ve been called that by your kind, who seem to be quite keen on categorizing everything as good and evil. We’re frightening to mortals, so we’ve been labeled as evil. I’m sure some of my brothers and sisters revel in this. Others don’t.”
“What about you?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m certainly not above displaying awesome power, if there is a need for it. After generations of watching your kind destroy each other, I’m quite content to keep to myself.”
Melinda couldn’t argue with that kind of logic. She’d always thought people were more frightening than any ghost story. The fact that she’d been kidnapped by men playing a joke was testament to that. “So what is it about me that’s brought you out of hibernation?”
“Do you really think so little of yourself that you need to ask that question?”
She blushed again. Her face felt so warm, she was sure it was beet red. “Most boys only talk to me because they think I’ll be an easy lay.”
“Are you?”
The heat fled from her face, replaced by cold indignation. “No.”
“So I have my work cut out for me then.”
She wanted to gape at his gall, but she kept her jaw firm. “I think this conversation is over.”
“I have offended you. Flirtatious banter is not my strong suit. I apologize.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. But on principle she wasn’t going to give any ground. “You should go. It’s late and I’m tired.”
She thought she heard him sigh. “As you wish.” The creature rose from his perch.
“Ramael.”
He stopped at the sound of her voice.
“If you’re visiting me while I dream, I’d appreciate if you stop that too.”
“I have no control over what your subconscious chooses to show you.”
And with that, he vanished from sight.
Melinda blinked. Really? He’s going to bail just like that? This time, the sigh was her own. She gathered her things and trudged through the rows of bookshelves, heading for the staircase that led to the main floor. It occurred to her that a similar late-night study session had started this whole thing. But tonight, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have to worry about being snatched. Not by humans, anyway.
#
Adrienne was still awake when Melinda got back to their room. She sat at their desk, holding an ice pack to her face.
“A? What happened? Are you all right?” Melinda dropped her bag and knelt by her friend.
“I’m okay,” Adrienne said. Some guy in a mask grabbed me on the jogging trail.”
“Oh my god! Did you call the police?”
She nodded. “He punched me, and told me to give you a note. I gave it to the cops instead. It said: ‘Bitches who are snitches get stitches.’”
Melinda sank into her own desk chair and held her head in her hands. “I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe someone would do that to you. This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for this to happen. And if you hadn’t reported those creeps, they’d probably be dead. They’re all still in the hospital anyway, so it’s not like it was one of them seeking revenge.”
“It was probably one of their frat brothers. They’ve got to be pissed that the fraternity has been suspended.”
“Then they should stop attacking women.”
“I still feel awful.”
“Don’t, Mel. Seriously. I’ll be okay. May not get my slutty on f
or a few days, so you might owe me for that.”
Melinda laughed. “I just don’t want you getting hurt for being my friend. If you want me to move out and stay away, I understand.”
Adrienne rolled her eyes. “Stop being an idiot. I’d be bored to tears without you around. And anyway, I’m more worried about you. If they’re willing to do this to me, sooner or later they’ll make a run at you. Especially if there’s going to be a criminal trial.”
“God, what a mess. Why do people have to be such assholes?”
“Makes you wish there was a hell to send these fuckers to, doesn’t it?”
Melinda thought back to the images in the art book. “Some people sure deserve it.” She moved to her bed and flopped down. “Guess you don’t want to go out tonight, huh?”
“I got some popcorn from the union. They were selling it for a fundraiser. So we could watch a movie if you want. Or you could do that reading for me that you keep promising you’ll get to.” Adrienne smiled, even though her left cheek didn’t quite lift high enough.
Melinda hadn’t used her cards since she read for Ramael. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she pulled them out now. But she also didn’t want to stop something she enjoyed because of one weird experience. And she did owe Adrienne.
“I think I can do that for you.”
“Yay! Maybe I should get punched more often.”
Melinda just shook her head and reached under her bed for the box where she kept her cards and other Wiccan items. “You’re definitely weird, A. Definitely.”
#
Saturday morning was beautiful. Sunny, warm without being hot, low humidity. Perfect for a bike ride. Melinda had an old trail bike handed down by her brother. Usually she kept it locked to a rack. But today she needed an easy way to ride out of town. Since she didn’t have a car on campus, a bike was the way to go. She threw some water bottles and granola bars into her ubiquitous bag, pulled her helmet out of the closet, and went out the door before Adrienne had even woken up.
The old farmhouse wasn’t far from campus. An easy thirty-minute ride got her to the overgrown gravel path that used to be a walkway leading up to it. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to find the place, but she’d paid close attention to the roads when the police had taken her home. And sure enough, she remembered the way. She walked the bike up to the house, not wanting to take a spill on the path, and left it leaning against the porch. She hesitated a moment before stepping onto the sagging wood. Crime tape still fluttered across the open doorway. After taking a deep breath, she ducked underneath it and stepped into the dilapidated front room.
“Ramael?” she called out. “It’s me. Melinda. I need to talk to you. I need your help.”
There was a blinding flash of light. She closed her eyes against it, but it didn’t last long. When she opened them again, the room was sparkling. Furnishings appeared: chairs, couches, paintings on the walls. Soft light flickered from sconces and oil lamps on tables. It looked like pictures she’d seen of manor homes from the colonial days. Everything was elegant and refined.
A shadow loomed in the doorway leading to the dining room. The dark form moved closer, and she saw wings spread wide before they folded back down. Despite the nervousness clutching her chest, Melinda smiled. He was here.
Unfortunately, he did not look happy to see her.
“Well, well,” he said in a dry voice. “This is certainly unexpected. I was under the impression that you wanted nothing more to do with me. And yet I’m the one to whom you turn when you have a problem?”
Her heart sank a little. “I know. It’s awful of me. I’m sorry. But this isn’t for me. It’s for my roommate. She was attacked yesterday. All because I talked to the police. She’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve to be beaten up. I was hoping you could maybe protect her.”
Ramael’s nostrils flared, and his wings fluttered. “Were you harmed?”
“No. I wasn’t there. When I got back to our room last night, she was all beaten up. Please. I can take care of myself. I just don’t want any more innocent people getting hurt. I-I’ll make it worth your while.”
He paced back and forth across the room. “Will you now? And just how do you plan on doing that?”
She drew a deep breath. “You can have me. My body, I mean. If that’s what you want. I figured it’s what you want, anyway, based on the reading I did. I don’t know. Maybe you think I’m ugly. God, I’m a mess.” She covered her face with her hands and tried her best not to cry.
Ramael stepped towards her. She peeked at him over her fingertips and sniffled. He touched her chin with his forefinger.
“Put your hands down,” he said softly.
She let them fall to her sides as she watched his curious green gaze.
“You’re really not afraid of me, are you?”
“Of course I am. A little bit. Maybe. I mean, you’re a demon. Or the closest thing I’ve seen to one. Just don’t steal my soul, okay?”
He stroked her cheek. “And what about your heart?”
She swallowed. What possible answer was there to give to that?
“A kiss,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“I would like a kiss. And then I will call one of my brothers and have him look after your friend.”
“Why won’t you do it yourself?”
“It will be easier for my brother to remain hidden. And I already have someone to look after.” He smiled down at her.
“Oh. Does this mean you’ll be haunting my sleep after all?”
“Perhaps.”
“Okay. Okay, I can do a kiss.” She tilted her head a bit. “How do we start?”
Before she could ask anything else, Ramael brought his mouth down on hers. It was the strangest kiss she’d ever felt, given that his mouth was shaped so differently. And she was scared of the fangs. But they didn’t pierce her. She parted her lips, deciding to make it as good of a kiss as she possibly could. His tongue flicked into her mouth, and she realized it was forked.
It was also warm, and tickled as it slid across her own tongue. He kissed her deeper, clearly not content with a simple chaste peck. The warmth spread, the tickling turning to a tingle and buzz. She put her hands against his leathery chest and whimpered softly.
This feels really, really good.
His hand moved from her cheek, down her neck and across her collarbone. It kept moving down, slowly exploring, until it rested softly on her breast. The touch made her moan and lean closer into him. She’d offered him her body reluctantly, but suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If he kissed this good, what else could he do?
And then, as warmth started spreading throughout her body, he pulled away from her. Just like that.
“Wait, what’s wrong?” her voice was thick with disappointment.
“If I don’t stop now, my sweet, there’s no telling how long I might remain entranced by your charms.”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all. However, I need to find my brother and make sure your friend is safe.”
“Oh.” Right. Duh. The whole reason I’m here.
“Now, do you have a picture of her, and her name, so I can make his job easier?”
Melinda shrugged out of her backpack and fished for her phone. “Here’s a picture of Adrienne,” she said, showing Ramael a selfie taken before they’d gone to a nightclub. “We room together.” She scrolled through her contact list. “Here’s her phone number, home address and our dorm room. Do you need me to write it down?”
“No. I think I can remember this.”
“So, how will I know he’s found her?”
“Hopefully, you never will. But if anyone tries to attack her again, it will end badly for them. Now,” he touched her cheek gently. “I must be off. You should go back to campus. And just in case you were followed, it might be best if you refrain from returning here, until this is over.”
“Will I at least see you again?”
And then he was gone.
The house returned to its dilapidated state. Melinda rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance. “This is such a bad, bad idea,” she muttered.
With no reason to stay, she stepped carefully back out onto the porch, secured her backpack, and got back onto her bike. The memory of that kiss refused to move to the back of her mind, but at least it gave her something interesting to think about as she pedaled back to campus.
#
Melinda checked her phone after she put her bike away. A text from Adrienne waited. Her roomie had gone into town to do some shopping. Melinda felt a guilty sense of relief. Ramael’s kiss still haunted her, and her body was begging for some relief. While she and Adrienne were close, she’d never felt comfortable masturbating around other people. So Melinda decided to put her free time to good use.
She stripped out of her clothes and tossed them into a laundry basket. She’d be showering when she was done, and wouldn’t be wearing the biking gear. Then she flopped onto her bed and closed her eyes as she traced her fingers up and down her chest.
Melinda sighed. She wanted to think of someone, anyone other than the demon who had kissed her so wickedly. She was so not into that kind of thing. Totally, completely, absolutely not interested in some perverted supernatural being. Nope. Not a bit.
But the feel of his tongue in her mouth called to her. The warmth of his hand on her breast drew her own fingers to massage her hardened nipples. She plucked and squeezed, while her other hand slid over the smooth skin of her abdomen, drawn inexorable to the juncture of her thighs. Melinda moaned as she made contact with her swollen clit. Wetness met her fingers when she slid them between the folds of her labia. Her whole body buzzed as she rubbed herself. She arched her back, aching to have something inside of her. She drew her knees up and slipped two fingers into her needy pussy.