The Devil's Playthings (12 page)

When they returned to the apartment an alarm clock radio mp3 player had been placed in her room. She saw that it was time for her to go to bed, so she placed her feminine things in her bathroom, brushed her teeth, and put on her gown.

She fell asleep to his reciting Shakespeare, and not long after he began to whisper other things in her ear. He knew he shouldn’t, but he didn’t care. He was far beyond what he should and shouldn’t do with her. He gave her just as much knowledge as he thought she would need to help her through school, but not so much that she would look like a freak or a genius. That would have to wait for college. And he felt content knowing that she would be with him forever.

She woke up to the sounds of music at 6 am. The sound shook him from his slumber as well. He was amazed again that he actually slept. Perhaps he was becoming more human after all, he thought.

Rosa had placed her sch
ool uniforms in her closet, so she didn’t need help getting ready. She showered hurriedly, braided her hair, and dressed in the burgundy blazer with the pink oxford, the plaid skirt, and the patent leather shoes with knee socks. His grin when she entered the dining room told her he liked the way she looked. Thank you, she mouthed the words to his unspoken compliment.

“Comment allez-vous ce matin,” he asked her when she sat down.

“Tre bien, merci” she responded without thinking. The words shocked her, he could see on her face.

“Volez-vous un croissant?” He asked as he offered it to her.

“Oui,” she nodded. “How did you do that?”

“I told you, I am very powerful,” he shrugged as he buttered his croissant.
But an impish smile appeared on his adorable face, and she knew he’d given her the knowledge somehow.

“What else do I know?” She wondered aloud.

“Everythin
g
you need to know
to get you through high school.”

“That’s cheating,” she gasped. Then he gazed at her with his eyes fire red, and she was reminded yet again that he was the Devil, and could do and would do whatever he wanted.

“Oui, merci,” she said and looked down at her croissant.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Did you pack those things we bought you yesterday in your bag?”
She shook her head, and ran back up
stairs after she ate to get them
.

The Priest

She still didn’t believe that she would need them, until she was in school. She started to feel an unpleasant cramping, but she still concentrated on Shakespeare and ignored it. She was amazed that yes she did know every answer to her pop quiz on the play. It almost made her angry.

Nearly everyone had left the class when she stood up, and as she walked past Father Peter he gasped. “Emma, are you okay?”

“Yes, why,” she stopped suddenly.

“Is someone hurting you?” She turned to face him, and she didn’t realize how close she had been until she looked into his bright brown eyes. She could see genuine concern.

“No,” she shook her head.

“You’ve got blood on your thigh,” he said delicately. Her face turned 5 shades of red, and when he realized what the blood was he did as well.

“I’m sorry,” he called out, but she was already running out the room to the bathroom. Taking care of her feminine needs she wondered if this was his doing as well. It was an oddly timed coincidence
.
And for Father Peter
to realize it and be so caring toward her, someone he barely knew
, touched her
.

“Umm… Emma Reinhold?” She heard an older woman’s voice outside the stall.

“Yes, I’m here,” she replied quietly.

“Father Peter sent me after you, to see if you needed anything.” Emma recognized the secretary’s voice
. And
again she realized how caring Father Peter was. T
hat was very sweet of him.

“No, I brought something with me,” she said pointedly. “T
hank you for the offer though. I
t is very kind of you and him.”

“If you need anything don’t hesitate to come to me,” she said with sympathy, then Emma heard the door close behind her.

She was a little late for her next class, but the teacher didn’t seem to mind. Apparently word travels fast around a small school. Emma thought her shyness and self deprecation couldn’t get much worse until today.

At lunch she sat alone, again, but
unperturbed
.
She found a chocolate bar in her bag
.
Luc must have slipped it in when she wasn’t looking
. She knew he put it there to make her feel better, and it did.

Her next class was Religious Theory, and being face to face with Father Peter again scared her to death. But he didn’t say anything until she stood to leave again. Being in the back of the class was fine until
s
he realized everyone else was gone by the time she got to the front of the room.

“Emma, I’m sorry about this morning, really,” he said.

She turned to him, and nodded with a slight smile. He nodded too. “If you need anyone to talk to, I’m a very good listener. I realize you’ve been through a rough time. I lost my parents too,” the emotion in his voice s
poke
volumes.

“Thank you,” she replied and gazed back into those bright br
own eyes. He nodded again.
She could tell he floundered. She thought about Father Peter during her next class, his empathy was so sweet. And even though her mind was on Father Peter, when the teacher asked her a question she still got it right.

“
Good,
”
the teacher said with a nod.

During gym the teacher told her she wouldn’t have to dress if she didn’t want to, so she spent the entire class sitting in the bleachers. She finished up her math homework, which she knew without problem. She didn’t have to wonder at how easy it was for her.

During science they watched a video about plant reproduction. She found it boring as she already knew the subject matter. But during French class she felt happy to actually know what was going on around her. And she tried very hard not to show that she knew too much, because she was supposed to be a beginner.

On her arrival at the apartment everything was quiet. She made her way to her bedroom to find another chocolate bar waiting on her dresser, along with another vase full of roses.
She inhaled the scent, and then busied he
rself w
ith her homework. When s
he was finished it was 6:30 and her stomach growled. If she had been angry at Luc for setting her up with Father Peter, by the time she saw him at dinner she’d forgotten all about it.

Until he asked, “How was school?” It nearly spoiled her appetite for the wonderful meatloaf and mashed potatoes just like her grandmother made them. It was comfort food
, just like the candy
. Her fork rattled on her plate, and her head bowed down toward it.

“I know what happened. Did I plan it that way? No, I didn’t. Did I mind that it happened that way? Not at all,” he stated. “I think it was a wonderful opportunity for dialogue.”

She couldn’t argue, she knew she had a task to do, and she knew she would do it. She finished her dinner, and Rosa carried in chocolate cake for dessert. He patted her hand as she shook her head, but ate every bite of it. “How did you know?’ He simply shrugged
and smiled that impish grin
.

He pulled her to the theater after dinner where they watched a sweet romantic comedy. In her emotional state she was glad for the lighthearted entertainment. Afterwards they again headed to her bed. If she thought her period would stop him from wanting to please her there too she was wrong. He somehow gave her yet another long, slow orgasm. She fell
into pleasant
sleep.

Her days fell into a pattern afte
r that. She participated more at school
.
W
ith enlightenment came confidence. And with confidence came the talent of communication. She opened up to Father Peter, who she sat with at lunch sometimes when he sat alone also. It wasn’t weird, because most of the students and teachers sat with him at some time or another. And she felt that talking to him helped him as much as it helped her.

He picked her to play Juliet, due to her aptitude and knowledge of the play. She did, after all, know every word by heart. And they got to know each other at practice as well. The one time he yelled at her for not getting a placement right, tears fell down her cheeks and he ran after her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so harsh,” he soothed her, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She placed her cheek on his hand. It was their first physical contact, and it sent sensations through her almost as strong as when Luc touched her. He gazed into her eyes as he wiped the tears from her cheek. “Friends,” he asked softly and offered her his hand.

“Friends,” she nodded.

Christmas break approached quickly. She didn’t know how to broach the subject with Luc, but when she
came home from practice that day a beautiful tree sat in the entranceway. Underneath were beautifully wrapped packages, all of them with her name on them. When she finished her homework and went downstairs for dinner, as had become their routine, Luc stood beside it, glaring at it.

“There is something I need to ask you,” he told her. “After dinner.”

After an elaborate Asian dinner of sushi, noodles, and chicken with vegetables and rice, he escorted her into the informal salon. There was a bottle of champagne chilling, and soft music playing in the background.

“Do you know pagans were the first to
decorate fir trees for the winter solstice
? They were known as Yule trees.
They would put crumbs of bread and ribbons on them, for the birds. Sometimes small candles were placed on them, as the nights grew darker faster.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind she’d known this. Did he supply this information as well? She would never know.

“Winter solstice is a very important wiccan tradition,” he also stated. “It is an important celebration.” He said it with such
vigor she couldn’t possibly miss his point. This was
significant
to him
.

“It is the time when the night is the shortest, and is the time when the winter will end and the days will begin to lengthen. From the beginning of time people slaughtered their animals to give blood to the earth, in hopes of lessening the grip of winter and warming the ground. It has been practiced all over the world, in different ways, practically since the beginning of time.

“It is important to my followers, therefore it is important to me.” She nodded, and he continued. “There will be a party, a celebration, here in New York. I want you…” he began. He pulled a beautifully wrapped box from a table, and bent down beside her. “I want you to be mine. At the celebration we will make it official.”

She opened the long
black velvet
box, not knowing what exactly she would find inside. Awe wasn’t strong enough to describe the necklace inside the box.
It was three rows of beautiful diamonds, each nearly as big as the tip of her pinky. He placed it on her neck, and it was just long enough to fit. It took her a moment, but she figured out what it was.

“It is a collar, it will signify to everyone you are mine,” he concurred. “If you accept.” His red eyes nearly hypnotized her. “You will have to accept me of your own free will.”