Sacrifice (6 page)

Jeremy Bruford raised his third Scotch and soda to his lips and inhaled. There was nothing on this earth as goddamn good as the smell of a Dewar’s. There were finer Scotch’s, to be sure, but for a daily drink—or daily double—his bet was on a Dewar’s over ice, touch of tonic, and
pow,
instant hit to the brain.

And he needed the hit. Jeremy sold spark plugs for a living. Not door-to-door, obviously, but to garages and lube shops and auto parts stores. And Jeremy didn’t work for Champion, so it wasn’t an easy sell. Nobody wanted to stock another generic spark plug. But every new client whose arm he twisted into giving Neutron Sparks a shot earned him another dollar that Sheila could use at the mall.

And Sheila liked to shop.

They all liked to shop, he knew. But Sheila…geez. He’d come home and find a whole new set of dishes on the table, just because she thought they looked “neat.”

“I was buying Janie some shoes,” she’d say, “and I found this really neat—” fill in the blank and empty the bank. She didn’t stop. His house was bulging at the seams from Sheila’s purchases.

And lately, when he’d come back from the road, he’d found a new twist to the scheme. Sheila had been getting some new jewelry. Some gauzy black and red outfits. Some expensive bottles of wine that he found empty in the trash on Wednesday nights when he was home to take out the bags.

Interestingly enough, Jeremy’s credit cards showed no record of Sheila’s more personal shopping sprees of late.

He wanted to ask her if the guy was giving her the gifts on his own, or was she just sleeping with him on commission, and taking the cash straight to the store herself.

Instead, he was here at the bar, downing his third Scotch and betting with himself whether she’d be at home when he got there. Last night she’d still been wearing a black dress when he’d gotten in, a little early, from a road trip to Cincinnati. She’d been surprised to see him, and definitely a little nervous.

He’d been too tired to care, but in retrospect, he should have done a panty check, he realized. That would have shaken her up.

But that would also have brought it all out into the open, and Jeremy was nothing if not good at ignoring things. Like the girl wearing black latex next to him. She’d been nursing a gin and tonic for the past half hour, shiny elbow lying just centimeters from his own, and he’d not even bothered a half-hearted hello.

Maybe Sheila had let all the air out of his tires. If she was going to spread it around behind his back, he was certainly entitled to do the same. But he couldn’t even bring himself to stand up at the starting gate to try.

Not that the filly sitting next to him wasn’t worth the effort. She was sleek, trim, and obviously, from the toe-to-wrist covering of her shiny black skintight suit, which perfectly molded around the flattened globes of her breasts, a little wild. Her face was pale and smooth, her makeup just heavy enough to accent her features, but not enough to overpower them. Her nose was almost hawk-thin, but small, and her lashes looked long and full. Mascara works wonders, he thought, but even so…

She caught him staring sideways at her and the slightest of smiles took hold of her lips. Her left hand moved to touch the button on the wrist of his shirtsleeve.

“Buy a lady a drink?” she whispered.

Jeremy’s heart leaped. Hadn’t he just gotten through telling himself that he was too tired to even try anymore? And here was a girl who’d piqued his interest, apparently showing…interest?

“Name your poison,” he choked out.

“Sex,” she whispered, and then laughed at the look on his face.

“Oh, you meant to drink.” Her voice was cool, high. Just a hint of roughness when she dropped it to a whisper. Pat Benatar meets Lindsay Lohan.

“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” she said.

Jeremy gave her order to the bartender the next time he came around. The woman clutched his arm and leaned to his shoulder.

“Thank you, good sir. You’ve saved a thirsty lady.”

“Thirsty for what, though, is the question,” Jeremy spit out, aghast at himself that he could even dare to play at words with a stranger like this.

“Hmmm,” she said, raising a thin black eyebrow and rubbing a hand down her ribs provocatively.

“Methinks I’ve played my hand too early.”

Jeremy thought of his wife, probably straddling her sugar daddy right now, maybe in his own bed. A cloud fell across his eyes and he shook his head and stared intently at the woman.

“I don’t want to play any games,” he said. “I’ve played enough lately. I know this is uncouth and you’ll probably walk away from me as soon as I say it and I’m fine with that if you do.”

She stared at him cooly, without expression.

“Tell me what you want,” he continued. “If you want a free drink, fine. You’re a pretty lady, and I’m happy to buy you one. If you’re looking for a pickup, I might be interested. But tell me up front what you want. I don’t have the patience for games right now.”

The woman in black arched an eyebrow, but didn’t smile. Her drink came, and she lifted it to her lips, without taking her eyes off Jeremy. She took a sip and replaced it on the bar.

“I want to take you back to my hotel and fuck you to death,” she said finally. “No games.”

“Finish your drink,” he said. “Then we’ll go.”

They didn’t say another word until they left the bar.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, on the way back to her hotel. She sat primly in the passenger’s seat, both hands creamy white against the midnight of her thighs.

“Air,” she said. “You?”

“Short for what?” he prodded.

“Ariana.”

He nodded, as if that meant something.

“I’m Jeremy. I’ve got a wife and a kid, in case you’re wondering. I’m pretty sure she’s fucking around on me when I’m not home.”

“So that makes it alright to pick up a woman like me in a bar.”

“Not at all,” he said, glancing at her as they pulled up to a stoplight.

“I just don’t fucking care anymore. You look hot, you were looking for someone to get off with, and frankly, I’m intrigued. I wasn’t looking, wasn’t even in the mood ‘til you showed up.”

“Will she be hurt if she finds out?” Ariana asked.

“Not as hurt as I was,” he said, and pulled into the parking lot of the Radisson.

He opened the car door for her, and held out an arm to escort her into the hotel. She smiled, a little bitterly he thought, and wrapped her hand around his thick forearm as they stepped into the bright blue-tiled lobby and walked across the thick carpet to the elevators.

“I’m on fifteen,” she said, and he pressed the button, leaning back against the car directly across from her.

“I’m starting to feel fifteen,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this with a grumpy, balding auto parts salesman from Tallahassee? You could do a lot better.”

“You’re what I want to night,” she said, and led him from the elevator to 1511. She slipped her key card through the slot and then slipped into the bedroom, motioning him to follow.

Jeremy watched the muscles flex in her ass as she walked across the small hotel room and pulled the drapes shut. She was a piece of ass. The nicest he’d ever gotten near, truth be told. He looked down and saw the chubby links of his fingers, covered with coarse black hair. He wasn’t fat, but he sure as hell wasn’t in shape, and he hadn’t been exaggerating in the elevator about the balding part. He didn’t have to cover his dome with three strands of doubled-back greased hair yet, but the roof was getting mighty thin.

What did she see in him that she could be interested in bringing him back here? She was worth seeing naked, no question. But why would she want to see him that way?

“Why don’t you take off your clothes and get comfortable,” she said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, she disappeared into the bathroom. Presently, he could hear the water running, and Jeremy stripped off his tie and shirt, tossing them by the wall on the floor. There was a ring of pebbles and small bones between the bed and the easy chair against one wall, and Jeremy bent down to pick up one of the shiny pink stones.

“Don’t,” a voice said from behind him.

Her fingers wrapped around his waist from behind, and he shivered at the cool touch of her latex as it slid across his skin.

“That’s my prayer circle,” she explained in a whisper. “Before I make love, I always say a prayer there. I find it makes the whole experience…so much more fulfilling. You don’t mind, do you?”

Jeremy turned to face her, and shrugged. The strange part was that a sexy woman would drag him back to her hotel. The fact that she prayed in a circle of rocks, was hardly as bizarre.

“Just as long as you say a prayer or two for me,” he hazarded.

“Oh, I will,” she said. “I promise. In fact, why don’t you strip all the way down, and I’ll pray with you now.”

Jeremy smiled, and undid the clasp of his belt. She was a weird little minx, no doubt. He unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to his feet in a heap. Then he stepped out of those and pulled down the elastic of his white underwear.

“That’s it, baby,” she encouraged. “I want you in my prayer circle with me, in the altogether. That way you can be purified before we fuck.”

Flake, Jeremy thought, but what the hell. If Sheila was busy bumping some other fool’s balls, he might as well enjoy this strange little piece of ass. Definitely something different.

He laid down on the floor, and Ariana stood over him, black crotch positioned over his face as she raised both her arms to the ceiling.

“I call upon all the forces of the other side,” she announced. “I call upon you to witness. Curburide, I beseech thee. Taste our lust, taste our blood, taste my need for you to night and come.”

She dropped to her knees, the smooth stretch of her ass slipping along the length of Jeremy’s quickly hardening cock.

“Who are you praying to?” he asked. “Doesn’t exactly sound like an Our Father.”

“God is passé,” she grinned, and leaned down to give him a peck on the lips. She tasted warm and earthy, and smelled of gin.

“I worship the demons called Curburide, and our sacrifice here will help to bring them from their imprisonment beyond the veil of our dreams, to manifest here.”

“Sacrifice?” he asked. “I thought we were going to have sex?”

“Isn’t every sexual conquest also a sacrifice?” she asked. “In taking a woman, don’t you also give up something of yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. He could feel his cock deflating at the left turn this seduction had taken.

“Every time I take something from a man who has come to have sex with me, I give something of myself away, too. I give it to the Curburide, and they grow stronger.”

“So, you fuck guys to strengthen some spirits?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she said. “They hear my prayers and taste the blood. And soon they will be able to join me here.” She reached into the small pocket sewn in the back of her catsuit.

“What blood?” he asked.

“Yours,” she replied, reaching down with the razor she’d retrieved to slice Jeremy’s neck.

“Fuck that!” Jeremy yelled, and punched her hard in the head as the blade bit into his neck.

Ariana fell to the side, taken by surprise, and Jeremy leapt up from the floor, holding a hand to the side of his neck. In seconds, blood was leaking out from between his fingers, but he didn’t stop to assess the damage. Instead he kicked Ariana in the stomach, and then in the face, catching her full in the teeth. Pain shot through his foot, but her head snapped back on the floor and she cried out, rolling to the side as he kicked at her again, missing this time.

“You bitch,” he screamed. “What kinda fucked-up freak are you?”

Ariana moaned, watching Jeremy through slitted eyes. He raised a foot to kick again and she flipped herself sideways, and continued to roll until she was on the other side of the bed from him. Then she forced herself up into a crouch, and showed him the razor.

“Fucking bitches are all the same,” he said, advancing on her despite the weapon. “Take a guy for all he’s worth and then bleed him dry.”

“I’m not like the rest,” she gasped. “I would have made it go fast.”

“Not as fast as you’re going to go,” he said, and punched her hard in the chest.

“Ugh,” she gulped, and dropped to her knees.

Jeremy kicked her in the thigh, and then punched her hard in the face. He felt a tooth through her lip, and smiled when he saw the blood running down her chin.

“Fuckin’ sick of being taken,” he said, and grabbed her with his free hand by the hair. She moved to bring the razor around, but he took his hand away from his neck and grabbed her by the wrist, squeezing it hard.

The blood made his grip slick, but he held on tight as she struggled.

“Drop it now,” he said, and she did. The blade fell to the pink floral-patterned comforter on the bed, and Jeremy laughed.

“Cat’s not so dangerous without her claws, is she?”

Rage overwhelmed him. Jeremy had locked in a lot of emotions over the years, especially over the past six months. Ariana suddenly was more than just a crazy with a razor. She was everywoman. She was his boss, who raised his quotas even though the entire market was down. She was his wife, fucking every guy in town but him.

He grabbed both of her wrists in one hand and with the other sucker-punched her in the stomach.

“I’m…”

He hit her again.

“…So…”

He slapped her in the face, the sound echoing through the room like a whip crack.

“…Sick…”

He grabbed the black length of her hair and used it to throw her against the wall like a rag doll. He could feel his cock growing erect in spite of himself.

“…Of…”

He walked over to the woman, her face beet red and swelling from his blows. He put his foot on her crotch.

“…You…”

And put all his weight on that foot, so that he could kick her in the ribs.

“…Cunts…”

Ariana curled up in a ball, crying in horrible gasping sobs, but Jeremy didn’t stop. He grabbed her again by the hair and forced her to her feet.

“Strip,” he said. When she didn’t move, he slapped her again in the face.