Something About Witches
“There is a stockroom by the elevators on the mezzanine level. You will meet me there in fifteen minutes. I will fuck you like a whore, and give you the pleasure and pain you crave. I will not ask you the questions you do not want to answer. That is not what I care about.”
Then he was gone, the shockingly intimate touch and words vibrating through her. She’d gone to the stockroom, and he’d done things to her in the dark that left her gasping and in tears. Her whimpers had only fueled his rough handling of her, as if he knew that was what she needed. She’d wanted punishment and release, and he’d given her both. She hated him, and yet he was in that desolate part of her soul, such that when she met him several times a year, it always resulted in the same. Shameful acts in the shadows that left her crying for Derek in her heart, even as her body spasmed under Mikhael’s ruthless touch.
Dark and Light. She wasn’t yin and yang anymore. Dark and Light had become so mixed she was a permanent, storm-cloud gray, a color she was pretty certain was becoming blacker and more ominous-looking every day.
SHOWN IN BY RAINA’S DAY HOUSEKEEPER, WALKING THE long hallway to the parlor, Ruby remembered why she didn’t come here that often. It whetted that cruel need. The hallway was lined with erotic oil paintings, blatantly depicting every imaginable sex act. Vanilla missionary, ménage couplings, a chained male on his knees being whipped by a pair of females in only corsets and stockings. Spankings, doggie style, oral….
But the most disturbing piece was mounted over the fireplace in the parlor. In the lush oil painting, a rugged, virile male stood over a woman, kneeling naked before him. He was wearing black-tie formal, only he’d shed the coat, rolled up the sleeves. He’d lifted her chin, his fingers stroking her throat. Her hands were tied behind her back and bound to her ankles, so she was helpless to him. But her eyes, riveted with absolute attention on his face, were adoring. As he gazed upon her, his expression made it clear he was completely in control, yet somehow he conveyed how much he cherished her. They belonged to each other, complex nuances of surrender and possession. It was a decadent, graphic and reverent vision, all at once.
She hated that one, mainly because she couldn’t ever stop looking at it.
The pictures weren’t here merely to torture her. Being close to the military base and a major seaport, Raina had a plethora of international clients. Even those who had a good command of English could stumble when they tried to voice their fantasies. A picture was worth a thousand words, and having the visual à la carte menu was a bordello tradition that dated all the way back to the times of Pompeii. Typical Raina, none of the pictures were cheap porn renditions, but all fine, expensive pieces done by masters. Walking that hallway fueled the libido, the eyes gulping down the offerings like an all-you-can-eat buffet that never filled the stomach, resulting in a ravenous body that wanted more and more. The soul could get lost here forever, like Ulysses on Circe’s island. Why the hell had she come?
The housekeeper had said Raina was with someone, but she’d join Ruby shortly. She was brought a glass of her favored white zinfandel and some chocolate truffles and tea cakes, without requesting either one. Raina’s customer service rating put even Disney to shame.
What the hell. She finished off about half before she heard the brush of Raina’s bare soles on the polished winding staircase in the main foyer. She was moving at her usual casual saunter, that pendulum sex walk that was impossible not to watch, whatever the viewer’s gender, orientation, species or religious affiliation.
“You know that act’s wasted on me,” she commented out loud, knowing Raina was within hearing. “You could clop down here like a Clydesdale, for all I care.”
“Your first mistake is assuming it’s an act. Your second is lying. I know you’d do me in a heartbeat, if you could afford me.”
“Yeah, right. Bitch.”
Ruby meant it with the usual acid affection, but when Raina stopped in the doorway of the parlor, her true greeting, her intention to pour out what had happened, where she was going, her desire to confide in one of her closest friends, faltered. She detected genuine anger in Raina’s gaze, even some hurt. But then it was gone as if it had never been. Raina’s usual expression was back in place, cool, indifferent amusement.
Unlike Mikhael’s true indifference, however, there was a softness to Raina, a kindness and generosity of spirit that had made them fast friends all these years. Regret came with that thought, but Ruby pushed it away, knowing that was a road she couldn’t go down.
“Everything all right?” Ruby asked, rising. Recognizing that Raina’s mood might have nothing to do with her, protective concern filled her instantly. “Something wrong with a client? Do you need help kicking someone’s ass?”
Raina’s expression eased a bit. “Always riding to the rescue, so unwilling to let anyone help you. You missed your calling, my dove. You should have been a martyr.”
She was used to Raina’s bitter tongue, but that cut a little too deep. She shrugged it off. Maybe she wasn’t going to get the friendly reinforcement, the girl talk she’d hoped to find here, but so be it. “I came to say good-bye for a few days.” She took a breath. “Derek’s found me, and he’s asked for my help.”
Raina barely blinked, but it was rare she gave any emotion away. In her business, having ironclad control of facial expressions was a key job requirement. Which was why that brief flash of hurt and anger still had Ruby a little rattled. “Of course he has,” Raina said dryly. “Figures he wouldn’t show up unless he needed something.”
She’d made Raina and Ramona, her other closest friend, believe that Derek had been the one to leave her. It hadn’t been fair to him, just as leaving Raina’s accusation hanging out there now wasn’t. But she couldn’t change that. “Good cause, though.” Ruby pushed forward. “Coven needing help, demon army on the march, blah, blah, blah.”
“And aren’t you the good little Buffy, riding to the rescue?” Raina shifted to her opposite hip, moving to another topic in the same flowing motion. “Then I’m glad you’re here. I need you to test something for me before you leave. Given how tense you look, I think it would do you some good.”
“Raina, I told you, I don’t really feel comfortable with one of your—”
“Oh, pure illusion, dove. Smoke and mirrors. It’s a charm room, designed to manufacture a favorite fantasy straight from your mind. I’ve been spending my few off-hours perfecting it, and I think it’s ready to go. And before you balk, it has a benevolent purpose, a public service for a private cost.” Her small, even white teeth flashed. “Military spouses can imagine being with their loved ones. Those who have private fantasies they can’t bring themselves to share with their significant others can act them out, gain the confidence to do so. Or enjoy them like a dream, no guilt of having committed actual physical adultery.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Let off that steam pressure, so to speak.”
“Raina, I really don’t have time—”
“Another magic user needs to feel it out before I make it operational. Just in case it gives someone rabbit ears or a third eye, some nasty business like that. With Valentine’s Day coming up, I’m launching it with a formal tea to attract the women in the area. The first twenty-five military wives will get a free hour, my gift to the community.” Putting a hand on her generous breast, Raina made a beneficent expression that elicited a snort from Ruby.
“You know I can’t ask poor Ramona to test it,” she added. “With her random chaos issues, the thing would detonate, blow pure emotional fantasy into a nightmare of one’s worst imaginings. Hannibal Lecter meets Debbie Does Dallas.”
Ruby’s lips quirked. Ramona ran an herb; novelty and magic shop. The white-rabbit-and-disappearing-handkerchief kind, which was a good cover for the fact that her magic was wildly unpredictable yet somehow always appropriate to the situation, no matter how roundabout its path to the final goal. Amusingly, the waiflike woman’s demeanor was similar, her focus always seeming to be elsewhere, yet always attuned to what someone’s emotions really were. Which was why Ruby had avoided seeing her more and more.
“I’m going to tell her you said that. All right. I have an hour, but then I really have to get back to the shop.”
“More than enough time.” Those jewellike eyes gleamed, making Ruby somewhat uncomfortable. What the hell was going on with Raina today?
Striving to take it to more normal footing, Ruby switched back to the issue at hand, at least for her. “Would you keep Theo while I’m gone? He doesn’t do so well traveling anymore because the arthritis in his hips is getting bad. He jumped up on Derek today, so excited to see him, but that’s the first time I’ve seen him do that in ages.”
“Apparently, Theo doesn’t share our mutual disdain for the asshole. I’ll have to talk to him about that.”
“It’s water under the bridge, Raina,” Ruby said quietly. “Just let it go. We’re working together on this, and it will be better if we do it as friends, not enemies.”
“Yes. Trust is important between friends.”
Ruby swallowed, fumbling out an envelope from her purse. “I need a favor. Probably the biggest favor I’ve ever asked you.”
She met Raina’s green-and-gold eyes. “This envelope is spelled so that it can’t be opened unless I’m dead. I know you’re probably powerful enough to undo it, but I’m asking you to respect that, not try to unravel it. Okay?”
Raina’s brow creased, some of that reserved look disappearing. “Ruby, you’re teaching a coven how to do protection work. Not usually fatal or all that dangerous. Unless you can die from an overdose of hen party.”
“I know. It’s just a precaution.” Ruby’s lips tightened. Derek thought he would handle Asmodeus, but things didn’t always happen as planned. Not if Ruby had anything to say about it. “If something does go wrong, I need you to open that and follow it to the letter. It’s the most important thing I could ever ask of anyone, and I ask it of you, because I trust you more than anyone. I….”