by HR Moore
They moved to the bed, Caspar gently lowering her down, turning her over, stripping off their clothes.
He straddled her, his weight resting on the top of her legs, caressing her, massaging her pressure points, kissing every sensitive spot, hands roaming across every inch of flesh.
Amari basked in the contact, glorying in the feel of his strong, deft hands, little moans of pleasure escaping her lips. She wanted them to lock themselves away, here, together, for days, weeks on end.
His fingers turned teasing as they explored her, ghosting her sensitive spots, coming tantalizingly close to her breasts, before skirting away, his lips kissing their way down her spine.
She felt him stiffen against her and he shifted his weight, lying on top on her, his hard, naked torso flush against her back. His weight pressed her down, and she mewed in gratification, doing it again when she felt him brush her core. She pressed back into him, lifting her hips as much as she was able, rocking against him.
She exhaled, fisting her hands in the sheets. 'Caspar,' she breathed.
He entered her, whispered her name, bit her neck. Neither of them lasted long.
Caspar rolled them to the side, tucking her in front of him. She sighed contentedly. He kissed her hair, stroked her skin. She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so perfectly peaceful, equalized, happy.
A welcome breeze from the window cooled them, then made them shiver. Caspar covered them with a sheet.
Life felt suddenly simple—this was all they would ever need. They fell asleep, tangled, and sated, and serene.
Chapter 13
Caspar woke early, before dawn, to a knock at the door. Whoever it was moved on, and Caspar looked down at Amari, her head on his arm.
Her hair was strewn out around her, covering her cheek, shading her face from view. He pulled it back, tracing his fingers along her cheekbone, pushing the hair behind her ear.
She shifted in her sleep, pouting her lips, frowning. A smile tugged at his mouth and his heart nearly burst. He'd seen her face do this exact transition in countless bodies.
He ran his thumb across her lips and they parted. He kissed her without thinking, his body reacting to hers. He sucked on her bottom lip, feeling her lips respond as her conscious mind awoke. He started to pull away, but she stopped him, her hand running lazily up his neck, into his hair.
'We've got to get up,' he murmured.
'We're never leaving this bed.'
'It's the Summer Solstice.'
'I don't care.'
She wrapped a leg across his, pinning him in place.
'We can't miss it,' he said, his lips working their way from her neck to her collarbone.
'I beg to differ.'
She arched into him.
'They'll come in here and drag us out naked.'
His hand skirted her breast, down across her waist.
'No, they won't.'
'They've done it before.'
His lips reached her breast. She moaned as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. Her head tipped back, pressing into the pillow.
'You people are batshit crazy.'
'Be that as it may,' he said, sitting up and pulling her with him, her hair falling in an arc around her face, 'you really don't want to miss this.' He held her head in his hands and kissed her lips, which were pouting again. 'Trust me.'
'Oh, fine. I'm going to have a shower.'
'Be quick. I would come with you, but we haven't got long until sunrise. I'll shower next door.'
'What happens at sunrise?'
'You'll see.'
Amari showered, not bothering to wash her hair, then dressed in the flowing white dress and flower crown that someone had left outside her bedroom door. The dress cinched in at the waist and had beautiful tulip sleeves that brushed her fingertips.
Caspar appeared at her door as she slipped on a pair of sandals, wearing a simple linen shirt and cutoff trousers. He moved into her space, hands going to her waist. Amari breathed in his freshly washed smell.
'You look beautiful,' he said, kissing her briefly. Then he took her hand and led her down the stairs.
'About flipping time,' said Meredith, turning as she heard them enter the room. Her eyes flicked to their joined hands, then to their faces. She raised an eyebrow, but said only, 'We have to go.'
Meredith wore a dress similar to Amari's, although Meredith's had additional paneling across the front, and slits up the sides so her legs could move freely. Her flower crown was smaller than Amari's, but it suited her.
They left through the back door to find Elliot and Gemma canoodling, whispering quietly to each other, while Jon paced feverishly.
'Thank all the Gods,' Jon said when they appeared. 'These two are driving me crazy.' He spotted Amari and Caspar's joined hands. 'For the love of all that is holy … you too?'
Caspar smiled, Amari wrapping her arms around his waist.
'You've got Meredith,' said Caspar, his tone even.
Jon narrowed his eyes, then turned and stalked off in the direction of the malt house. 'We've got to get going, or we're going to be late,' he called back to them.
Meredith took one look at the two couples and rolled her eyes, following in Jon's wake.
By the time they reached the field next to the malt house, the sun's rays were smudging the horizon. A crowd had gathered around the main bonfire, and Talli and Christa were dancing around it in dresses similar to Amari's.
Talli thrust an elaborate knife into the fire, then pulled it back, along with a stick that was already burning. She walked to the stone circle, both knife and stick held high.
Copper element bowls awaited at the four compass points outside the stone circle. Talli lit the fire bowl using the stick, waiting for it to roar to life before standing, now holding only the knife.
She walked slowly around the circle, holding the knife up above the stones, cutting the air, completing a full turn, coming to a stop when she once again reached the fire bowl.
Talli pulled the knife toward her chest, blade pointing upwards, both hands on the handle. She walked, bare foot, slowly, in her fluid way, to the flat altar stone in the middle of the circle, then spun dramatically to face east, towards the sunrise.
Someone in the crowd started drumming, the beat slow and methodical. Another drum joined the first, then another, and another.
The drummers, a mix of men and women, walked forward until there were ten of them surrounding the stone circle. Amari shivered and Caspar pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.
Talli remained in front of the altar, still as the stones, head bowed, waiting. As the light of dawn peeked over the horizon, the tempo of the drumming increased, slowly at first, the crowd swaying in time with the beat.
As the rays intensified, so did the drumming, faster and faster, some demons starting to dance, either alone or in pairs, energy cracking palpably all around.
Amari rested her head back on Caspar's chest. She let him sway her, drumbeats reverberating through them, willingly following his lead.
Talli raised her arms above her head, blade held between her hands. She dropped to her knees, arms still overhead. The drumming ceased in perfect unison. The demons stilled, watching, waiting.
The sun came over the horizon, beams of light glinting off the blade in Talli's hand, making it seem like the source of light itself. Talli began chanting in words that Amari neither knew nor understood. The crowd joined in until the whole place resonated with the deep, rumbling, hair-raising sound.
Anticipation, hot and tingling, filled Amari, gooseflesh spreading like wildfire across her skin. She felt uneasy, like maybe she wasn't supposed to witness this.
And then Talli stopped, and the place went dead.
Talli plunged the knife into the earth, and a wave of power surged across the gathering, followed by complete stillness for four long beats. Then the place erupted; the drummers resumed, others joining in with pipes and strings and voices.
Demons took to the makeshif
t stages, dancing, jumping, swooping, and swaying. Euphoria swept through them, the world outside irrelevant, foreign, forgotten in the face of such emotion. Amari danced ceaselessly with Caspar, inhibitions spirited away by that fearsome surge of power.
At last the cavorting died down, coinciding, not surprisingly, with the appearance of a breakfast feast.
Three long banquet tables had been artfully laid with rustic candle centerpieces, divine floral creations, linen napkins, heavy silver cutlery, and hearty pottery.
Waiters brought platter after platter of delicious food. Along with fruit and yoghurt were cold meats, cheeses, pies, whole sides of smoked salmon, and an array of breads and pastries. And then came the cooked food: sausages, bacon, eggs, fried bread, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms sautéed with butter and cream.
Amari's stomach rumbled in delight. She grabbed an oven-fresh roll, slathered it with creamy butter, pressed two slices of smoked bacon inside, then bit down. She closed her eyes as the flavors and textures and juices hit her tongue.
Caspar placed a mug of steaming tea in front of her, then dropped down next to her, kissing the palm of her free hand.
Amari smiled lovingly at him. She reached for him, kissed him. Maybe she'd died and gone to Pagan heaven.
Amari and Caspar sat at the table already occupied by their friends. Caspar had grabbed them hooded, floor-length blue cloaks from the malt house, because, despite the fact it was Midsummer, it was early morning, it was England, and it was cold. The others had also wrapped themselves up so they could enjoy their breakfast in comfort.
Amari and Caspar huddled together, as close as they could get on separate chairs.
Rose arrived with little fanfare, taking her rightful place at the head of the table, next to Talli, apologizing for missing the morning ceremony.
'I only just arrived back from the Registerium,' said Rose. Her features were haggard, despite her immaculate appearance. 'I haven't even had time to change.'
'What happened?' asked Jon.
Rose waved a hand. 'I'll debrief you tomorrow. Today, let's just enjoy Midsummer.'
'I'll get you a cloak,' said Caspar, jumping up.
'I'll get you some tea,' said Talli, 'and a flower crown.'
Talli caught up to Caspar as he entered the malt house. A flock of younger demons had been assigned to catering duty. They were busy ferrying food out, and empty platters back in.
'What the hell are you playing at?' said Talli, grabbing Caspar's arm.
'It's none of your business,' Caspar hissed.
'It'll blow up in your face. You're both going to get hurt.'
'You think I don't know that?'
'She'll use it against you.'
Caspar rounded on her, glaring into Talli's eyes. 'What if Raina never forgives me? What if this is all I'll ever have of her? I've been alone for two lifetimes. If she rejects me again … I … at least I'll have had this.'
'She'll say you took advantage of her.'
Caspar hung his head. 'Honestly, I don't know what she's going to say. I haven't seen her in a hundred years. What if she's changed? What if she's moved on?'
'She'd never do that,' said Talli, her tone softening. 'She just needs time.'
Caspar took a deep breath, looking at Amari, who was laughing at something Christa had said.
'What about what I need? I don't know how much more I can give.'
After breakfast, most people dispersed, presumably to get some rest before the evening's festivities. Caspar and Amari chatted with the others until the sun was high in the sky and the crowd began to return.
People lounged about, playing games, singing and dancing, knitting, basket-making, and setting out stalls full of traditional pottery, clothing, and jewelry. There was food for sale too: honey and marmalade, herb and tea blends, hedgerow jellies, chutney, fudge, bread.
Groups sat making flower wreaths, singing, reading, carving wooden objects, drinking homebrewed beer, elderflower cordial, or potent, home-distilled-gin cocktails. The place had the atmosphere of a relaxed festival.
Amari and Caspar took a blanket, spread it under one of the few trees, and made themselves comfortable. Caspar had informed Amari that this was where they'd spend the rest of the day. She hadn't complained, snuggling up against him, squashing any residual resistance that her conscious mind tried to mount. Dean, Dean, Dean, it said to her, on a loop, until she silenced it. Every other part of her sang the name Caspar.
By mid-afternoon, the field was abuzz. 'The artists are arriving,' said Caspar, as a crowd of ten or twelve made their way into the field. 'They're the middle-agers.'
'I see,' said Amari.
She watched as the group set up camp on the far side of the field. They didn't have any particularly distinguishing features, nor did they crack out easels and paintbrushes as she'd half-expected them to.
'Elliot should go and make friends, now he's decided to start his artist phase.'
'I think Gemma might have something to say about that,' laughed Caspar. He looked to the yurt on the tree line behind them, into which Gemma and Elliot had disappeared.
The field was sectioned loosely into areas. The malt barn stood at one end, the banquet tables in front of it, then the stone circle, with the main bonfire directly behind that. Off to one side stood the maypole, around which was an open space for dancing, with two makeshift stages bounding that area, one at each end.
To the other side of the bonfire, stretching all the way into the wood that ran along the field's edge, was an area scattered with yurts, tents, and picnic blankets, all well-spaced to afford privacy. The far end of the field contained a makeshift market and game space.
Bonfires were dotted across the field, and a line of fire torches circled the perimeter.
A thrill ran through Amari as she thought about what the place would look like later that night, flames dancing, casting ancient shadows.
She lay back, looking up through the leaves, watching the slow progress of the occasional clouds across the clear blue sky. Caspar lay next to her, holding her hand, seemingly unable to let her go.
'It's so strange,' said Amari, as Caspar stroked her fingers.
'What is?'
'I feel like I know you deeply, and yet I know nothing about you.'
'You know everything there is to know about me, and probably more, knowing you. It's all in there somewhere,' he said, stroking her temple.
'What didn't Raina like about you?'
'Absolutely nothing,' said Caspar, in mock outrage. 'She thinks I'm practically perfect in every way. At least, when she isn't mad at me.'
'Only practically?'
'Modesty is an amiable quality, or so I've been told.'
'Come on, seriously. There are niggles in every relationship. My mother would hit the roof every time she found my dad's wet towel strewn across the bed. No matter how many times she told him, he'd forget at least a third of the time.'
Caspar laughed, then turned thoughtful, shadows clouding his eyes. 'She thought I was married to my work. She said I prioritized that over you, over us.'
'Did you?'
'Probably.'
'Would she think that now, if she were here?'
'You are here,' he said, rolling over to kiss her.
Amari hummed. 'You know what I mean,' she said, between kisses.
'You tell me. Have I been working too much since we met?'
'No,' she said, running her hand through his hair. 'You've spent almost all your time with me. But I guess I am your work right now: Rose gave you orders to wake Raina. Maybe when that happens—if that happens—you'll forget all about me.' She gave him a playful pout.
Caspar's eyes filled with fire, even though she was joking. 'I could never forget about you.' He ran his nose down hers. 'You will wake up, and when you do, I won't leave your side.'
Amari smiled, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb.
'But you have to promise me something too.'
Amari frowned. 'How can I? I can't make
a promise for someone else.'
'You can make a promise for the part of Raina that's you,' said Caspar.
She gave him a skeptical look, but said, 'Go on.'
'Come with me, after you wake. Come with me when I have to travel to the far-flung places of the world.'
Wariness prickled in Amari's mind. 'Will you come with me to the places I need to go?'
'Yes.'
'What if our needs conflict?'
'Then we'll work it out together. We'll talk. We'll compromise.'
'Will you, really?'
'I promise I will.'
'Will Raina?'
Caspar stopped short, then said quietly, 'That's up to you.'
Chapter 14
Caspar and Amari whiled away the afternoon, drinking beer, joining in with dressing the maypole, kissing, and frolicking, and becoming ever more wild.
Spit-roast pigs were wheeled out, along with another enormous banquet, and as the sun began to set, the bonfires and torches were lit. Everyone crowded around the stone circle, buzzing with excitement.
Caspar disappeared into the malt barn, returning moments later with a piece of jewelry Amari recognized.
'The headpiece?'
'It's yours. Made especially for Midsummer. It would be a tragedy if you didn't wear it.'
Amari pulled off her flower crown and let him place it on her head. It felt right as it settled on her brow.
'And these too,' said Caspar, pulling out a pair of long gold earrings with a half fan of hammered metal at the bottom. 'I had these in my office, where we were first attacked. I wanted to give them to you then.'
'They're beautiful,' she said, taking them from him, holding them up to get a good look.
'They're Egyptian, and they're … quite old.'
'Oh my God. How old?'
'Just put them on.'
Amari slotted them through her earlobes. 'I love them,' she said, feeling the weight of them. She shook her head a little, so they glimmered in the evening light.
'You look majestic,' he said, running a hand over her cheek, kissing her.
'Am I supposed to give you a Midsummer gift too?' asked Amari.