All Hallows' Satyr (The Cursed Satyroi Book 5)

by Rebekah Lewis

  Someone had stopped to help but kept walking around the car looking for her and asking where she'd gone, hearing but not seeing her. When she stepped out of the flowers, the old man had shrieked and ran to his car like he'd seen a ghost. Sage had stood there, baffled. She hadn't realized her distress had made her invisible among the dandelions until she'd done it in class during a test. There had been a plant in the corner by her desk and she was leaning back in her chair, her arm and shoulder swinging into the middle of it. She hadn't studied and was stressed out. Next thing she knew, her professor was demanding someone tell her where she'd gone.

  Somehow, she could disappear around plants and flowers, but only when she was stressed. It was another reason why she wasn't afraid of coming out here alone. No one could find her if she was scared enough to use her magic.

  If only she understood it and knew what all her abilities were. That was her other purpose. What good were powers if she couldn't control them?

  She turned down the dirt lane that led to a vacant house. Though condemned with no one living there, she thought she'd heard someone near the house once. It could be a squatter. If they didn't know she was in the woods, they wouldn't bother her. Before coming too close, she pulled off the road into the dark woods, far enough that no one would see her car if they were headed to that empty house, parked and cut her lights. Grabbing her bag and her flashlight, she made her way to the clearing she favored.

  Sage sat on a stump and ate a sandwich as the sky turn from pink and orange sunset to the dark blue of night. After packing up her trash from dinner, she set up a large circle with thirteen white pillar candles, lighting them as she placed them on the ground. The soft glow from the candles paired nicely with the nearly full moon above, visible through the trees. The full moon would begin on the night after Halloween, with a lunar eclipse on top of it. She'd wanted to do the summoning spell then, but she had this strange gut feeling she should be out here tonight. When a strong feeling hit her in the gut like that, it was useless to try to ignore it.

  So, here she was.

  With her bag outside the circle, she turned off the flashlight and kicked off her flip flops before pulling out a ceremonial dagger. She'd memorized the chant. When she returned to the middle of the circle, she winced as she pricked her left thumb on the sharp blade. It looked so much easier in the movies, but it took a bit of force to willingly cut oneself. Dark liquid beaded up, and she let a drop fall to the north, south, east, and west. She tossed the dagger out of the circle toward her bag and inhaled, straightening her shoulders.

  "Goddess Gaia of earth, hear me and heed my request." She raised her arms to the sky, closed her eyes, and smiled. "I am a child of the earth, here to pay tribute through dance. If you approve of my offering, send a spirit of the forest who's worthy to accept all I have to give under the light of the moon."

  The words were silly, pure fantasy, yet an electric charge of need coursed through her. By the goddess, she was horny. She imagined some phantom figure appearing in her circle, ravishing her, and she trembled. What would she do if it happened? Maybe she was sick to fantasize about sex with a stranger. Maybe there was something wrong with her. What she wanted was beyond comprehension, and every rational part of her brain begged her to think about what she was doing.

  She couldn't. Something had drawn her to this place, had given her powers. She was but an instrument of some higher purpose, and she would see this through. Perhaps it would provide answers, and maybe it would only provide a one-night stand. Either way, she was good with the possibilities.

  Sage thought of Persephone picking flowers when Hades had torn out of the Underworld, driven by lust and longing for the light he saw within her. What Sage craved was a lover she couldn't name. She'd know him when she saw him, and anyone else wouldn't do. She needed a Hades to her Persephone. Demanded that life grant her this. Some grand adventure of lust and sex and love and danger that knew no bounds through the good and bad.

  Sage began to dance, undulating slowly as the cool air caressed her body through the thin fabric. Her nipples were hard, the movement of cloth sending delicious shivers through her. She'd end up masturbating in the backseat of her car most likely when nothing came of this, but dancing in the dark woods felt natural, like she was meant to do it. The movements lived in her blood, her heart. Her soul.

  She didn't know how long she danced, but she didn't stop. Desire overwhelmed her, exquisite all the same. She became one with the earth, a vessel for Gaia, the primordial goddess.

  Sage opened her eyes and stared directly into his.

  2

  When the call rolled over into voicemail for what seemed like the hundredth time, Adonis nearly threw the cell phone at the wall instead of leaving a message. "Where are you, Hermes? This isn't funny anymore." He ended the call and dropped the phone on the table, then rubbed both palms over his face. His one tie to the world outside of this crappy little house in Georgia was missing.

  Again.

  Adonis hadn't needed his help the time Hermes got himself thrown into Tartarus unexpectedly, but it'd been a month now since the god had talked a siren into sleeping with him. A pity fuck. Before that, it had been some minor goddess with entirely too much fascination in ways to utilize his horns in the bedroom.

  As deplorable as it was, Hermes had become his pimp. Nothing could be done about it though. This was his punishment, and Adonis took it as graciously as he could—there may have been some complaining—but after he'd broken his thyrsus and Pan and Ariston denied him the use of panpipes, he had no way to create glamour. He couldn't hide his hooves or his horns in the daytime to fit in with society. The only satyr to get away with that was Cyprian, but as a rock star, he was able to use his band's costuming and theming to make it work. Something he shouldn't have been allowed to do, but Pan wouldn't punish one of his precious Arcadians.

  Oh, nooooo. Never that.

  After parting ways with Dionysus several months ago, Adonis had originally remained in the Blue Ridge Mountains, fully intent on using Ariston's old cabin to get through the withdrawal of Dionysus' wine. And while the craving for the compulsion-laced beverage had eased, he hadn't counted on the guilt from his actions affecting him so strongly, breaking down and asking Hermes to find him a new place to stay. Why the god had decided to make him his favorite charity case was beyond him; Adonis didn't particularly like the god, and the feeling was mutual as far as he could tell. But he was grateful.

  Until his dependency on the god created more issues than it was worth. He could feel his control slipping and didn't know how he could convince a woman to look past his slight…disfigurements…

  Adonis paced the dark kitchen, hating how loud his cloven hooves clacked against the tiled floors. The house Hermes found for him had been condemned for flooding—and for good reason considering the state of disrepair and proximity to the Ogeechee River—but no one bothered him here. He didn't have electricity, used a solar charger for his phone, and Hermes had managed to get the water and sewage system turned on for him. That was all he needed, really. That and access to the Internet on his phone to order nonperishables every few weeks, and the odd, delivered meal when he had a craving he couldn't ignore. It only became a problem when the irresistible cravings of a different kind arose. Normally it wouldn't be so bad, but now…

  "What am I going to do?" He slammed a fist down on a counter. If he were closer to downtown Savannah, or if Hermes had let him bring a car here, he'd venture out in a few days and pretend he was in a Halloween costume.

  If he could last that long.

  Halloween was convenient for that sort of thing, but what if the lust madness took him and he hurt someone? Like what he'd almost done to Lily… If he actually lost control—no. He wouldn't.

  I need some air. Thankfully, the house was so far down a dirt road through a patch of forest that he could wander around at night without worrying he'd be seen. Without lights, he'd be nothing more than a trick of imagination in the time it wou
ld take him to disappear into the trees.

  Tonight, the moon gleamed big and bright. Not quite full yet, but very close. A lunar eclipse would occur in a matter of days, and Satyr Moons always put him in foul moods. He shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered toward the trees. Adonis didn't really have a destination in mind, but before he could think on it, he started in a direction and stuck to it. Not like there was anything else to do, and it kept his mind off his problems. In fact, the anxious need to rut like a common animal had completely dissipated since entering the woods. He felt almost normal, calm, which was unusual with or without the curse in such a heightened state.

  Pausing, he squinted at something up ahead. Light? Was there someone camping out in his woods? A homeless person maybe? No good. It was a risk of exposure, and he couldn't go anywhere without Hermes to take him there. Unless he could convince a ride-share driver that he had a Halloween party to attend.

  Maybe he should do that, but now that he was out here, he couldn't seem to make himself turn around and head back to the house to get his phone. Like he was drawn to that spot. Considering the kind of beings and creatures he knew existed, that could bode ill if he wasn't cautious. Taking care not to make noise, Adonis skulked toward the light—correction, lights—up ahead, the loose dirt softening the fall of his hooves. Candles lit a small clearing. About a dozen or so. And in the middle, a woman danced.

  She was…magnificent.

  Lurking in the shadows of the trees, he observed her, barely breathing as she twisted and turned to a song she alone could hear. Her thin dress revealed as much as it covered with the movements, and the high slits up the sides and a draping front and back left her skin on display. The globes of her pale breasts were bright in the darkness. Her hair was black maybe? But no. It held a hit of color. Violet?

  For whatever reason, he felt compelled to touch her, yet his curse wasn't urging him to do anything at all. Very peculiar. This should be alarming, but he couldn't focus on that. He stepped closer, barely avoiding kicking over one of her candles. She didn't sense him there in her circle as her breathing came faster and faster. Her nipples were hard and beaded against the fabric. Still, he was unaffected when it came down to his body's physical response. This was a good thing though, right? He didn't want to be treated like a whore anymore. He wanted to be normal. He wanted his human life back that had been stolen from him.

  The woman opened her eyes and looked right at him. Her lips parted and she raised a hand to her chest.

  "I didn't mean to startle you." Stupidly, he'd forgotten what he looked like and sank back into the cover of trees. Foolish. He could never be normal again. To still believe there was hope after all this time, after all he'd done, was reprehensible.

  "Wait!" The woman chased after him, grabbing him by the wrist. Her touch was cool from the night air, and it didn't provoke any lustful reaction at all. Though his heart thumped harder in his chest. The only contact he'd had with a woman in years had been in order to control his curse—or had been influenced by Dionysus.

  Shame filled his gut and he choked down bile. He couldn't blame Dionysus for everything he'd done to torment his brother. What he'd nearly done. Not all his choices had been ripped from him. He'd never forget, could never forgive himself, let alone expect Ariston to forgive him.

  This woman touched him of her own accord, but then again, she didn't know what kind of monster he was. He stared down at her. She was tiny, slender, barely taller than his chest, but she wasn't afraid of his appearance. Adonis frowned as he glanced at her feet. "You shouldn't be running around barefoot." Not to mention, why was she on his land to begin with?

  "I'm fine," she said with certainty. Her cheeks and throat held a slight flush, discernible even in the candlelight, from her dancing. "The earth won't hurt me."

  Adonis arched a brow and allowed his gaze to drop down to drink in her body in a slow perusal, and then he met her gaze once more. "But how do you know I won't?" He was, after all, the very definition of the monster that mothers warned their daughters about in order to protect their virtue.

  She let him go and retreated a step. Maybe he'd scared her after all. "I summoned you."

  He blinked. "Why would you think that?" Then he remembered the candles and he nearly cringed. Had she been attempting a spell?

  "I'm a witch," she confirmed his suspicion, "and I prayed to a goddess to send a man or spirit of nature to accept my offering to her." She raised her hands to the shoulders of her dress, pulled the straps down ever so slightly, and the entire garment pooled to her feet.

  "You're naked," he said dumbly and stared at her slender body, curved in all the right spots. What was going on? Why wasn't he rock hard right now?

  She giggled and stepped out of the pile of cloth, shimmied right up to him, and pulled his head down to hers. Helpless to the moment, Adonis stood stunned as she kissed him. Her warm lips invited him to taste, explore, claim. She smelled good, like vanilla. When he opened his mouth to protest her actions, she swooped her tongue in. Gods, he had once loved kissing women, and yet his lower region still refused to get onboard.

  Why is this happening to me?

  She pulled back, her chest moving up and down with her breathing, and her nipples slid against his bare chest. The sensation was nice—but still did nothing for him down south. Gods, she was turned on as hell and he had nothing to show for it. What were the odds? Satyrs never had performance issues. He couldn't tell if he was annoyed or relieved. Maybe a mixture of both? Honestly, his bafflement overrode every other emotion or thought and rendered him completely speechless.

  "Come." She grabbed his wrists and pulled him toward her circle of candles.

  If only I could.

  He followed her, too bewildered to do anything else. When they stopped and she reached for the button on his jeans, however, he regained some composure and stepped back. "What are you doing?"

  "I promised an offering through dance to a nature deity in return for sex. I wasn't expecting the denim...or, oh my, you have hooves too. That's new."

  He blinked rapidly. She was completely not freaked out. Forget about what was wrong with him; what was wrong with her?

  And wait a second...

  "I'm not a nature deity." Did she think he was Pan? "I'm...a satyr."

  Did her eyes just dilate? He could almost swear her breathing got heavier. The Fates must truly hate him to torture him this way. Or was he so far gone that this fantasy in his head had taken over while his body wreaked havoc in real life? He'd never lost control to the lust before. Anything was possible.

  "Well, no, but I did ask for a spirit of the forest. Looks like the deity delivered." Her gaze drifted down his bare chest. "Can I tell you a secret?" She curled her finger, beckoning him to come closer. Out of curiosity, he obeyed. "I have always fantasized about satyrs. I'm really looking forward to this."

  "This?" He really had lost the rest of his wits.

  "How do you want me?" she continued like he hadn't even spoken. "On my back? On my knees? On top? Against a tree?"

  His jaw dropped. She was serious. This woman wanted to fuck him in her candle circle like some weird ritual. She hadn't made up the whole witchcraft thing. "I, uh..." Apparently, his ability to form words and think straight had disappeared along with his ability to become aroused.

  She ran her hands over his chest, and he closed his eyes. Her hands were so soft and warm. Adonis longed for the contact, someone to want him and not fear him. Someone who didn't come to him out of pity or a favor owed to Hermes or curiosity about Aphrodite's castoffs. For some reason, the witch woman was into him with a ferocity he wasn't used to by someone who hadn't known what or who he was beforehand.

  "I don't even know your name."

  She smiled up at him and it lit up her whole face. She really was a beautiful woman, albeit strange. "Sage."

  He almost snorted. It even sounded like a witch's name. "I'm Adonis."

  "You could pass for the original, I bet."

&
nbsp; This time he did snort. "You have no idea." What would she think if she knew he was the Adonis from the myth, renown for perfection he'd never truly possessed? And he couldn't even give her what she craved from him. So much for the supposed paragon of masculinity. He was a mess. Broken. Incapable of the most primitive of functions.

  "How did you know I'd be here?" Maybe Hermes had sent her but was too busy to make a phone call or shoot him a text.

  Sage ran her hands through his long blond hair that was in dire need of a cut; it reached the middle of his back. "I didn't. Since discovering I was a witch a few weeks ago, I began exploring these new powers and I kept being drawn out here."

  He narrowed his eyes, suspicion hovering in the back of his mind. Something he should have considered from the start. Witches did exist, but they rarely traveled alone without a coven or attempted summoning spells without practice. "What deity were you communing with?"

  She waved a hand dismissively, and Adonis caught it in his, bringing it up to catch the light. A small cut on her thumb held a smear of blood. "Gaia," she said, seeming nonplused as though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

  The primordial goddess…of the earth. His gut knotted. Had the bloodletting caught the ancient deity's attention? And what's more, why would she listen to Sage if there wasn't a bigger reason. If she wasn't of her bloodline…

  "What are your powers?"

  "Oh, nothing too fancy," she said airily and grinned. "I can disappear sometimes. If I'm near trees or flowers."

  Adonis sucked in a breath and retreated from her as though he'd been burned. "Fuck. You're not a witch. You're a nymph."

  She cocked her head and pursed her lips, considering it. "Actually, that would make more sense than a witch, but when you get powers you don't think dainty forest sprite so much as you do Harry Potter or The Craft."