The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (9 page)

“Not really,” she replied, with a shrug. “It's cool. It's just a phase – it'll pass.”
 

“Normally, I'd agree, but your dreams are … shall we say, like scenes from a horror movie?”
 

Mary laughed. “Yep, that about sums it up. But I've had weird dreams before – okay, nothing this bad – but still, they're just dreams. I doubt they're prophetic … if they are, I pity the poor sods that star in them...”

The door bell rang again as their first customer of the day walked in, and Monday began.

~*~

Amy was walking through Death Valley – only, she wasn't really walking, she was sort of floating … literally. The Dessec demon, whose name she had learnt was Pueblo, had an arm wrapped around her shoulder in what could only be termed a possessive embrace, as he led her to his … she wasn't exactly sure where he was leading her. She assumed it was his village, or headquarters, or something. And they were moving at a pace she couldn't walk at. When she looked down at her feet, they were imitating walking, but she couldn't feel the sand beneath her feet.

The flames surrounding his body now also surrounded her own, in a delicious heat that confused the hell out of her. If she was the burying-your-head-in-the-sand type, she would be telling herself that the waves of lust sparking in her body were a side effect of Pueblo's supernatural fire. Unfortunately, Amy was a realist, and could not deny the fact that this demon was eye candy at its best, with or without magic flames. Hell, if she'd known demons could look like this, she'd have been seeking them out a long time ago.

A low laugh rumbled in Pueblo's chest. “We don't all look like this.”

“Oh, shit! You can hear my thoughts? You can do that?”
 

“No … you spoke aloud.”
 

“I did not!”
 

“Yes, you did.”
 

I did?

Clearly the flames were getting to her. Half-heartedly, she tried to pull out from under his arm, but he was having none of it.

“Are we nearly there yet?”
 

He raised an eyebrow at her, looking amused. “You're funny, Amy, I like that.”

Her stomach flip-flopped.

How is what I said funny?

“Really, Etienne – that's The Council's Elder – he'll be expecting me back any minute.”
 

“Relax, there's plenty of time.”
 

“All I need is an agreement from the Dessec that I can take back to him.”
 

“What he is proposing is against our morals, and not that easy to achieve. It will take longer than a minute to convince us that his mission is worth our taking part in.”
 

Inwardly, she cursed Etienne. Convince them? She hadn't planned on having to convince them of anything – she barely knew what this whole thing was about. With a sigh of resignation, she realised this little trip may take more than the day she'd put aside. She wasn't sure if Etienne had more than a day to spare – not that there was much she could do about it.

“Why are you here, Amy?”
 

“I told you, to—”
 

“No, that's why Etienne sent you – why are
you
here.”
 

“What are you, fucking Jerry Springer? What does it matter?”
 

“You matter, Amy.”
 

Blood, or magic flames – she wasn't sure which – rose to her cheeks, and she found herself flummoxed. A child's voice, one she recognised as her own when she was little, came forward inside her mind in a hesitant whisper …
I matter?
 

Pueblo came to a sudden stop, causing Amy to stumble against him.

“Hey!”
 

“We're here.” The fire surrounding them faded away into the black of the night.
 

She looked around, confused. “Here? There's nothing here.”

“You can't see what's around you because you're not a demon.”
 

“Oh … how can I effectively talk to you guys if I can't see anything?”
 

“Take the essence of a demon into you, and you will see.”
 

A faint ring of a bell, that sounded an awful lot like a warning, went off in her head. “Essence?”

He pulled out a dagger from … she wasn't sure where.
Did he have that in his loin cloth? What else does he have in there?
 

Before she knew it, he'd sliced his wrist. His blood glistened the darkest of reds under the moon.

“Drink, Amy; take me into you.”
 

Her heart thudded in her ears – this was
so
not what she came for. “I can't,” she whispered, but she wasn't sure she meant it. When she next looked up at him, his eyes were bright yellow, his pupils slitted like that of a cat's … only he was more of a panther.
Nothing kitteny about
this
demon.
 

That heat rose up within her again, and this time, she couldn't blame the flames, what with them being extinguished and all. “I … I mean, I…”

“If you do not drink, there will be no negotiations.”
 

“Blackmail?”
 

“Fact. You will not be able to see us, or communicate with us.”
 

“I can see you.”
 

“I am more accommodating of humans than my peers. I walk freely in your world, like all demons used to, but the others will not leave our protected dimension. You must go to them. And the only way you can do that, is to drink.”
 

He held his wound an inch from her mouth. The scent of his rich blood pierced her sinuses and danced on her tongue. “Consequences,” she found herself saying. “There'll be consequences…”

“There are always consequences, for every choice you make.” His hand found its way to the back of her neck, and pulled her towards him. Her thoughts were too jumbled to put up a fight.
 

“Just a taste, Amy; you don't need to drink much.” His voice wrapped around her like silk, and all resistance left her. Maybe she was being seduced, but it was only her instinct she could feel, alive and burning within her, telling her this was something she needed to do. She heard Etienne's voice inside her mind, scolding her for her carelessness, but louder still, was the voice of her childhood self – no longer a whisper, it laughed with joy, the sound filling her heart with something she could not name.
 

Her lips found the demon's wrist and sealed itself around the dripping cut. The strong, metallic liquid hit her tongue, and Amy's soul roared, as it soared out of her body.

~*~

“Open the door, already,” Karl mumbled into the back of her neck between kisses, his hot breath tickling her skin.
 

“I'm trying to, but you're not making it easy.”
 

“You're fumbling.”
 

“Of course I'm fumbling … mmm … that's good...”
 

“You ever had a hickey? I want to give you a hickey.”
 

“Karl, we're not fourteen!”
 

“Don't bloody care. I was in love with you when I was fourteen – your neck owes me a hickey.”
 

Finally, Elena managed to hold her hand steady enough to get the key in the lock, and they both tumbled inside. With his lips never once losing their focus, Karl kicked the door shut behind them.

“Whoa, Casanova – I'm hungry.”
 

“Mmm … so am I.”
 

“I'm serious!” Like an obedient child, Elena's stomach growled. “See?”
 

“Ugh...” With a sigh, he pulled away from her. “Fine, but it's going to be a really big hickey...”
 

With a triumphant grin, she gave a him a peck and went to the fridge.  “We have … nothing … because our food delivery's tomorrow … crap. Wait, we have eggs – you want eggs on toast?”

“Let's see, it's quick to cook, quick to eat, which means I get you on your back more quickly …  yes, I want.”
 

“On my back?”
 

“Or you could get me on my back, but last time you tried that, it didn't go so well.”
 

She grimaced. “Oh, yeah, the spell … it won't happen again though … I don't think...”

“Whatever...” His hands snaked around her waist as she broke the eggs into the frying pan. “I could be persuaded to give that another go.”
 

She turned to face him, returning his hug. “Hey,” she said, softly. “I don't ever want to do that to you again – not like that.”

“I know. I forgive you, by the way.”
 

“I know you do, but I haven't forgiven me yet, so how about tonight, I leave you in charge of the seducing, okay?”
 

“I can live with that.”
 

The toast popped up.

“Dinner in two minutes then...”
 

“I'll lay the table,” he said, giving her bum a smack as he went.
 

Fifteen minutes later, Elena wasn't nearly full enough, but at least her stomach had stopped growling. She sat on Karl's lap as he flicked through television channels, but night had fallen, and neither of them were concentrating on the brash lights and sounds that the box emitted.

“Karl...”
 

“Oooh, look, it's Buffy.”
 

“Karl, I think we should hide the pen.”
 

“Uh … all right...”
 

“Actually, I think you should do it, so I don't know where it is.”
 

“Nothing's happened, has it?”
 

“No, but I don't want to take any chances. It was horrific what happened Saturday night, but it's kind of more eerie just sitting around waiting for that bloody pen to do something … and when I fall asleep, I don't want—”
 

“Hey, nothing's going to happen, not with me around.”
 

“I know you mean that, I really do, but how can you possibly know that?”
 

“I don't know … it's a feeling. As long as I'm with you, everything's okay.”
 

She laughed. “This is loved up Karl talking.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, “but the feeling remains.”
 

“Well, that's good to know … but I still don't want to take any chances. Please, it'll make me feel so much better.”
 

“All right, darling, I'll squirrel it away somewhere.”
 

“Thank you,” she sighed, nestling into his arm. “Do you think it means anything, that he hasn't used that pen against me since Saturday night?”
 

“I haven't got a clue. But it's only been forty-eight hours … and he did enter your dreams again only last night...”
 

“Hey, you're frowning – don't think about that. He's not coming between us. You're the one that pulled me back, remember?”
 

“I'll always pull you back … I'll always be there for you, Elena.”
 

“I know … there's something else I wanted to talk to you about...”
 

He turned to face her, bringing her up against his chest. “Go on.”

She hesitated, not knowing exactly how to say what she wanted to. How did people do this? It must be easier when you're sixteen and ruled by hormones...

“Er … the thing is … I-uh … I love you. Maybe I have for a long time, I don't know. But, really, it's always been you and, I want it to
be
you. What I mean is, that I want you – I want to make love with you.”
 

Chewing nervously on her lip, she peeked at Karl from the corner of her eye. Oh, God, he looked stunned. That was probably not a good sign. “But we don't have to … I mean, if you don't want to it's fine—”

“Elena,” he cupped her face and brought her close, “of course I bloody want to, but you … you'd be giving up so much.”
 

“I'd be gaining more – a whole life with you. We could have children, we could be together without this constant yearning, or this feeling that we're missing out on something—”
 

“I'd never feel like I'm missing anything with you.”
 

“Then you're a saint, because I'm pretty sure I would.” She rolled the button of his shirt anxiously between her fingers. “So … do you want to … with me?”
 

“Just so I don't make a complete tit of myself, can I assume that by 'want to, with you', you are actually referring to making love with you? In the full-on sex kind of way?”
 

“Yes. And I know it puts a huge burden on you, what with you becoming a super powerful witch and all, but—”
 

“You know I don't care about that; I'll deal with it – we'll deal with it together.”
 

She looked at him, guiltily, and they both fell into a silence that was almost uncomfortable.

“I have this horrible feeling I've ruined things...”
 

“No, never – I'm just … I've wanted you to say those words to me for most of my life.”
 

“That I want to make love with you?”
 

“That you love me. A part of me can't believe you're really here – that we're really here, like this.”
 

“Well, I do love you … more than anything.”
 

“I want you to be sure – I'm not going anywhere, Elena, maybe we should wait a week—”