Playing With Monsters

by Amelia Hutchins

  “And let me guess, you’re willing to fix it for me? Thanks, but no thanks. What you did? It’s called stalking. You had no right to dig into my life; I didn’t dig into yours. I did what we’ve been trained to do. When we see something that we can’t explain, or has to do with burying evidence, we call the coven. I didn’t say you raped me, I didn’t accuse of doing shit to me. I had no motive for what I did, other than I misjudged what you held in your arms. Was I wrong? Yes, and for that I am sorry. Never accuse me of having motives. You? You have nothing I want or need.”

  His eyes narrowed and he looked me over with an expression I couldn’t figure out. His eyes moved to where my torso was exposed, and to the ink my shirt did little to hide from his eyes.

  “You carry his ink,” he said softly.

  “Some of it, yes,” I confirmed hesitantly.

  “A constant reminder that sex is fine,” he smirked. “Why didn’t you try again with someone else?”

  “I didn’t need to,” I lied. I’d been afraid to, since the first time hadn’t gone so well. He was right about one thing; sex had been ruined for me. There had been a lot of blood, which had to do with the guy not bothering to get my body ready before he’d penetrated it. It hadn’t just been painful, it had been horrible.

  “You gave up so easily?”

  “I didn’t give up. I’ll be trying again in a few weeks. According to the elders, my ancestors will pick out my perfect match, and I can only go up from where I was, so I’m not too worried about it. Now, if you’re done prying into my disastrous sex life, I came here to offer my services which should have nothing to do with what I can offer you sexually. As you already know, it’s limited. It’s also none of your fucking business. To add salt to the injury, for the next week I can only go to the events of your choosing.”

  “If I make it my business, it is. If I offered for your body during the Harvest, what do you think they would say?” he asked as his eyes slid to where my heart was pounding painfully. “Helen is desperate for me to stay here and put more money in the coffers of the coven. What if my price was you?”

  I blanched and shook my head. “According to the elders, it doesn’t work that way. Even if it was the case, you are better off offering for Cassidy; she’s experienced. I don’t sell my soul for anything or anyone.”

  “Everyone has something they’d mortgage their souls for; it’s only a matter of finding it and exploiting it.”

  “That’s fucked up,” I said, looking right at him, unwilling to look away while we dueled in a silent battle of wills. Being in a room with this man was like being in a cage with a wild lion; you knew that if you pissed it off, it would rip you apart, and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  “It’s true,” he said softly. “I won’t keep you from many events, not unless you piss me off. Don’t piss me off, Lena. You won’t like me if you do so.”

  “You won’t offer for me,” I retorted, ignoring the fact that he’d just let me off the hook for the events…or most of them. “You need to conquer, draw blood. It’s written in your eyes. You like the fight. You like to win. I’m not interested, nor am I on your menu, per se. And I like that perfectly fucking fine. Unless you or one of your people are adept at scrying, you have no idea if I liked it or not, but you want to know. You didn’t go looking to see if I was after you, you went snooping into my life because you’re some kind of control freak. You want the truth? I went out and I got fucked, I spread my legs for him and he accepted the challenge. It was fine. You don’t know me, and yet you sit there judging me. Why? Why the hell do you care? Because you kissed me? Or because I almost got dirty with you in the grass?”

  “If I’d wanted to fuck you in the grass, you’d have been fucked, and I promise you this,” he said, standing up and coming around the desk before I could put distance between us. He lifted me up and held me against him, his hands grabbing my hair and my chin, forcing me to look up or break my neck. “It wouldn’t have been fine. You wouldn’t have been fine. You sure as fuck wouldn’t have been out of your bed today. When I fuck, I own, I dominate, and I fuck without an ounce of mercy. I claim. When I finish with someone, they sure as fuck don’t walk away saying it’s fine.”

  I was trembling. The entire room was spinning out of control and my body, stupid fucking traitorous body, was on fire. I could feel the power he exuded, and being this close to him with walls around us was intoxicating. It was as if he was a freaking transformer, feeding all the lines around the city. His eyes watched mine, and I had to remember to breathe as his mouth lowered to mine, only he didn’t kiss me.

  “You need to get fucked,” he murmured as his lips barely touched mine with each word he spoke. “You need to forget what fine is, and discover what earth-shattering-legs-shaking-can’t-fucking-get-air-don’t-fucking-need-it-to-live sex is. You’re wet just thinking about it, aren’t you, Lena?”

  “I am not,” I replied, enjoying the brief touch of my mouth against his.

  “Pull down those panties, show me how wet you aren’t, and I’ll stop, right now. I won’t bother you ever again.”

  “Go to hell,” I whispered breathlessly as my body trembled for him to do more than just talk.

  “Been there, it’s not as hot as they say it is. Take your clothes off, and use me. Use me to discover what fine sex isn’t,” he rumbled.

  “Not a chance,” I replied, finding my brain. “If I wanted sex, I’m sure as hell not shopping for it in here. There are a lot of men just begging to be fucked in the coven, ones who won’t try to own me in the process. I’m a butterfly, I fly free, asshole,” I whispered and felt his lips curve into a smile as I closed my eyes.

  “If you’re a butterfly, then you’re tripping over your god damn cocoon while trying to shed it, little girl,” he said with a tone that sent a shiver up my spine.

  “You’re wrong,” I replied shakily. “I’m just finding my wings. Spreading them wide, and getting ready to catch air. I don’t need someone, anyone, holding me back. Now, let me go. I don’t like you.”

  “I don’t like you either,” he growled.

  “Good,” I countered.

  “Good,” he said with silk in his tone. “Go find Daisy, tell her you will be working in the main bar for the next few days. Tell her the black outfit, and Lena, if you don’t show up for work on time, dressed in that outfit, you’ll spend the rest of the evening locked in here with me. I assure you, it won’t be fun or fine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Hours had passed since I’d left the club, and nothing seemed to get rid of the heat that his touch created in my soul. I had waited outside the cottage, expecting my mother and sister to return to the main house. Eventually, I grew restless and ended up dressed in a pair of shorts, a white tank top, boots and headed outside to take my frustrations out on the garden.

  I didn’t know how much time passed while I pulled weeds, removed flowering herbs, and planted new seedlings. My hands were covered in dirt, my nails ruined. I’d never felt happier than I did right now in this garden. Not in a long while.

  I could feel the sting of the beginning of a burn on my shoulders, as it was blisteringly hot today. Considering it was late autumn, this could have gone either way and I regretted not putting on sunblock. I pushed on, intending to have the garden at least weeded enough that I could plant the start of new herbs for the greenhouse which would keep them protected from winter’s icy fingers during the cold months that would be coming soon.

  I felt eyes on me and looked up from where I’d just pulled out peppermint roots that could go from the ground straight into the greenhouse, and looked around. Sweat trickled between my breasts, so I reached up and swiped at it before pushing away the hair that clung to my face.

  I couldn’t see anyone around, and as I stood up to retrieve the basket of roots, I still couldn’t. I looked around the garden and then gav
e myself a once over. I was literally covered in dirt. My knees were covered in it from where I’d knelt; my hands and arms as well. I could feel it in my hair and on my face and I didn’t care.

  However, it was disturbing that I could still feel the intense stare of someone watching me. I bent over and set the basket down as I made my way to where I’d forgotten the valerian roots. I heard a twig break and spun around as I made it into the next row of herbs.

  Lucian stood on the edge of the garden, his dark blue eyes looking me over with something akin to horror. He was dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung just below his hips and a white shirt that fit his body loosely, even though I could still make out the contours of each well-placed muscle.

  I swallowed and scrunched up my nose as I stood, totally covered in filth. I didn’t look away from him as he slowly took in my dirty knees, arms, hands and face. I wasn’t sure why he was on our property; he sure the hell hadn’t been invited by me.

  “Do you plan on leaving any dirt in the garden?” he asked as a raven brow rose with his question.

  “Oh look, he’s got jokes,” I mumbled as I wiped my hands off on my shorts. “Need something, or did you just decide to come help me get dirtier?” I asked, and as his lips curled into a seductive grin; I rolled my eyes at my own words. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Around him, what I meant, and what actually came out of my mouth were never the same things.

  “I don’t play in gardens,” he teased as he made his way closer. “I know a lot of ways to get dirty, trust me, but rolling in the dirt isn’t one I partake in.”

  “Of course not; rich guy like you getting his hands dirty?” I challenged. I didn’t know why I kept opening my mouth, but I was about knee-deep in it.

  “You think I don’t know how to get dirty?” he asked, and I had a really bad feeling that he wasn’t speaking about the dirt in the garden.

  “No, I don’t think you do. I bet you don’t need to get dirty. Men like you? They have people, who have other people, who get the dirty stuff done. I on the other hand, don’t mind getting on my knees and playing in the dirt.”

  He laughed and shook his head. He picked up my basket and moved it to the row I was about to start on. “I take it no one has told you that your mother’s boutique is shut down, or that Cassidy took all the business when she opened her own store on Main Street?” he asked softly as he bent down and started pulling up a flowering stalk of valerian, releasing a whiff of cherry vanilla scent. The fragrance from the flowers was wonderful and could be used in perfumes; the roots smelled a bit like moldy socks, and was way better than Tylenol PM if you needed a good night’s sleep.

  “Cassidy wouldn’t know the difference between valerian and peppermint, let alone how to use them for medicinal purposes,” I said with more anger than I had intended to.

  “Actually, she’s doing pretty well. She’s a good girl,” he said as he lifted his eyes to mine, as if he were trying to see how I would react to his words. Asshole.

  “You’re wrong; good girls are only bad girls who don’t get caught. We all have a bad girl inside, just scratching to be let out.”

  He laughed huskily. “Most don’t admit it.”

  “Most are idiots,” I mumbled as I knelt in the dirt beside him and started picking out the plants that weren’t completely ruined. “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I saw some dirty little vixen playing in the dirt. Thought someone should have the balls to tell her she was fighting a losing battle. I know covens, and Cassidy’s mother is trying to run this one. The others will all fall in line; that’s also why your mother’s store went ass-up.”

  “Ass-up,” I snorted. “Hardly. One witch doesn’t run a coven. It’s called a coven for a reason. It takes many witches to cast spells, and a single witch is nothing without her sisters and brothers. What you’re referring to is called sheep. Helen is a sheep dog, so she guides them. It’s pathetic.”

  “And you’re not a sheep?” he asked as he turned his head without pausing to check the plants he tossed into the overly full basket.

  “No,” I said. “I don’t fall in line with the others. I tend to march to my own drum, I guess. It’s probably why I have to serve you now. They say it’s to set an example, but I think it has to do with how I behaved as a child.”

  “And what did you do as a child? Throw dirt at people?” he laughed, and I smiled.

  “Hardly; I tried my first spell alone. Almost set the barn on fire. Next was when Ophelia wouldn’t stop calling me a pyro, so I lit a few candles next to her, which unfortunately caught her hair on fire. How was I supposed to know she’d used half a can of hairspray on it? We were nine. Punishment was swift and severe. Cassidy and her gang were relentless, teasing me about it for years, trying to get me to step out of line so I could be punished all over again.”

  “You like playing with fire?” he asked, and it had nothing to do with what I’d just admitted to.

  “Maybe I like the slow burn,” I said as I bent over to pick a stray bulb of lavender that had seeded from a flower a few rows up. I wasn’t prepared for the gentle slap on my rear, or braced for it. I ended up completely face down in the dirt.

  I turned around but he moved closer, pinning me into the soft soil. “You look good in the dirt,” he whispered as he lowered his lips and started kissing me.

  I felt my blood ignite, but the moment he moved to deepen the kiss, the sky clapped with thunder, and rain was let loose from a storm I hadn’t even noticed was coming. I squealed as he lifted his head to look up, and peals of laughter erupted from me as I took in his disgruntled frown.

  His eyes came back to rest on me, where I’d remained on my back in the dirt. I closed my eyes against the rain that pelted me. I laughed harder as I struggled to get up, only to be pushed back down and kissed until my bones turned useless, and my mind turned dirty.

  I was soaking wet, which had little to do with him and more to do with the rain that was coming down in buckets. He pulled away and looked in the direction of his mansion, and then to the cottage that was closer.

  “Looks like you’re going to have a houseguest until the rain clears, little witch,” he murmured as he stood up, pulling me with him as he moved with purpose towards the quaint cottage.

  “I’m not inviting you in,” I shouted over an angry crash of lightning followed by thunder that was closer than I’d originally thought. I took off towards the cottage, and didn’t stop until we were both safely inside.

  “You’d kick me out with the storm being what it is?” he asked and I scrunched up my nose and tilted my head considering it.

  “Actually, I totally would, but only because I don’t have anything that will fit you, and I don’t plan to offer you a shower,” I mumbled as I removed my boots. “I plan to get clean…shit!” I said as I moved to the door and swung it open as I scanned the garden for the basket.

  I took off without waiting to see if he would give chase. The bulbs and seedlings wouldn’t make it through the storm unless it rained enough, but I didn’t plan to chance it. I made it back to the garden and slid in the mud. I landed with a hard thud, and lightning cracked across the sky and hit one of the trees close to the house. It split in half and hit the ground with a deafening sound. Another bolt hit, down closer to the garden, close enough that my hair rose in awareness as I snatched up the basket and slammed into a very solid form.

  My teeth rattled, and I was temporarily woozy as strong arms carefully picked me up and moved towards the cottage.

  “The basket,” I cried to be heard over the raging storm.

  “Stupid woman, it’s only a few ruined bulbs,” he growled angrily. “It’s not worth your life.”

  “I need them,” I said and held on around his solid neck as he reached down to retrieve it and moved swiftly towards the safety of the cottage.

 
He set me down inside and I felt my face for damage. My hands came away dirty, but luckily not covered in blood. I looked around the cottage for Luna, who seemed uninterested in my current state, or our houseguest.

  “I have towels in the bathroom. I’ll grab you one,” I said, already moving in that direction. I opened the small towel closet and pulled out two towels as I caught sight of my reflection.

  I looked like a crazy woman, covered in mud. It was in my pores, and pretty much everywhere else as well. I moved into the front room and looked him over. His shirt was brown, and clung to his body like a second skin. His jeans, which already hung low over his slender hips, were barely managing to stay up.

  “Shoes off, and if you need another towel, there’s a few more in the closet. There’s a wood stove in the kitchen; if you start it, I’ll make some tea when I get out of the shower.”

  “You get to shower and I get to stay dirty?” he asked with a look that said are you kidding me?

  “I think I like you better covered in dirt,” I laughed as I watched him hold his shirt out away from his skin. Pampered city boys could never handle getting their hands dirty.

  “Is that so?” he countered. “You have something on your face,” he murmured and held up his hand to his face. “Here,” he laughed as he indicated my entire face which I’d already known was covered with smudges of dirt from pushing my hair out of my face as I worked. “Besides, you’ve no idea just how dirty I can be,” he whispered with a sexy smile that begged for me to ask him to divulge exactly what he’d meant by it. I ignored it completely.

  “Jerk,” I replied as I moved into the bedroom, retrieving a pair of yoga pants and a shirt. I dug through the dresser, pulling out an old shirt of Joshua’s.

  I managed to find him a clean change of shorts that looked like they were from Joshua’s senior year of P.E. He was a big guy, however the shorts and shirt would still be a little tight on Lucian, but that was just a bonus for me. Also the knowledge that he’d be going commando until the storm passed wasn’t bad either.