The Sorceress (7 page)

She particularly despised having to play with Ethan's toy cars. There were, like, a zillion of little racecars lined up on a complicated ramp. She was expected to operate a remote and give a lively narration of the car race.

With his eyes fixed on the computer screen, transfixed by the images of bridges, Ethan always ignored her and the damned cars, but Jen was expected to start some new dialogue. She had to keep up her miserable performance for exactly a half-hour, or his mom would flip out and accuse her of neglecting her nanny duties. God, her job sucked.

In addition to playing with Ethan's corny toys, she was also instructed to read to him. Jen loved books and since Catherine was totally into exposing Ethan to the Harry Potter series, Jen got a lot of enjoyment out of reading aloud.

But every morning after breakfast, she had to play a CD with interactive kiddie songs that involved sing-along, hand-clapping, counting, word repetition, foot-stomping, and a lot of whooping and hollering.

Jen had to comply with the humiliating sing-song exercise with absolutely no participation from her silent and listless young charge. As long as Catherine could hear Jen's voice belting out the silly lyrics and Jen's hands and feet clapping and thumping, the vice presidential candidate was content that her son was getting the stimulation she felt was necessary to his well-being.

What a crock! Nothing except the sight of bridges interested
or stimulated Ethan. Oh, the things Jen had to put up with when Catherine Provost was at home.

But now that Catherine was fully focused on getting elected, Jen was able to float freely, mingling with the cook and the maid, watching TV, chatting on her cell phone with her friends back in Centerville, pretending that dorm life at Temple University was a perpetual party.

She never let on that she was a miserable live-in nanny for an obnoxious, non-verbal little boy.

With Catherine out of the way, Jen only checked in on Ethan at the top of every hour to remind him to take a bathroom break. Sometimes, she felt sorry for him. The kid couldn't help the fact that he was such a creep. It wasn't his fault. Still, no one, not even his own parents, seemed comfortable around him.

Aside from the occasional, God-awful screaming episodes, Ethan was usually silent. The rapid clicking of the computer mouse as Ethan changed images on the computer screen was the only sound in the room.

A stock photo of a bridge popped up on the screen and was quickly replaced by another. This would go on until he became exhausted. When his mother wasn't around, he pretended not to hear Jen when she told him it was time for bed. He'd stiffen his frail body when she tried to pull him out of his little swivel chair. It was a nightmare trying to move rigid limbs into the arms and legs of his pajamas.

“Hey, buddy. How's it going?” she said, entering the bedroom. Naturally, Ethan didn't acknowledge her presence; he kept his back turned to her. “Ready for a bathroom break?” she continued cheerfully. She didn't actually expect a response; she was merely making conversation, the way she'd do with a verbal child.

“You're going the wrong way.”

Jen stopped cold, stunned by words that were spoken in a croaked, scratchy whisper and that seemed to come from the little boy. But Ethan couldn't talk.
What the heck is going on?
With a sharp eye, she took in the surroundings, doing a three-sixty as she inspected the bedroom. Nobody around except her and Ethan. Maybe the website had an audio feature, she rationalized.

Now, standing next to him, she chuckled nervously, trying to kid herself into believing that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Did you say something, buddy?” Jen bent down to the child's level and peered at the monitor. There was movement on the bridge.

“Oh my God!” she uttered and then clamped a palm over her mouth. Her eyes bugged out in disbelief as she witnessed a naked black woman with wild raven hair billowing behind her as she ran along the wooden bridge. Jen had seen that exact image of the old-fashioned bridge over a misty waterfall, like…a zillion times or more. Ethan always stared at the same set of bridges. Over and over—the same set of bridges. And the bridge on the monitor was a stock photo. That bridge was not being live-streamed, so what in the freakin' hell was that woman doing on the screen? Jen wanted to scream for help, but was stunned silent.

“Not that way!” Ethan spoke.

Okay, this was getting way too creepy, now. She was ready to bolt, but her knocking knees rendered her disabled. Suspended in time. As hard as it was to accept, there was no denying it. She saw Ethan's lips move; heard the words come straight from his mouth. But the voice he'd used was not that of a child's. He sounded like a cranky old man.

Jen uttered a frightened gasp. She felt the hairs on the back
of her neck lift as she watched, shocked and horrified, as the nude black woman, seeming to have heard Ethan, stopped running, turned in the opposite direction, and made a few faltering steps. Changing her mind, the naked apparition on the bridge switched back and continued running until she was no longer within the screen's view.

Like an irritated adult, Ethan clucked his tongue in disgust.

A naked woman on a bridge. Had Ethan logged onto a porn site? Jen blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was occurring on the screen. But there was no explanation. It was one of Ethan's favorite bridges.
What the freakin' hell is going on? Is someone live streaming from the bridge?
Unwilling to find out who would appear next on the bridge, Jen's shaky hand turned the computer off. Rigid with fear, her lower limbs refused to move. When they finally cooperated, she fled the child's bedroom.

THE DARK REALM

W
hen the portal closed, Eris wanted to scream in frustration, but that sound would have aroused the scallywags around her, sending them into a raucous frenzy, disrupting her concentration.

Trying to reconnect with the little jewel thief, she closed her eyes and waited. Time passed. Minutes…days…perhaps weeks went by, and all she saw was darkness. Then there was a jolt. The connection had been reestablished.

A familiar but unexpected voice spoke to her. “I've constructed a bridge for you.”

“Xavier!” she shouted excitedly.

“Hurry! I can't keep this portal open very long!”

“How do I find this bridge?” She needed guidance—explicit directions—and was prepared to ask him a number of very detailed questions.

“You must follow me; do not tarry,” he grumbled impatiently before she'd sent him a mental query. “As you know, Wicked One, I have little tolerance for dimwittedness. Do not waste time with your foolish inquiries.”

“Very well.” Eris had no choice but to go along with Xavier. She forced herself to relax and blindly followed him with her mind until she felt their energy merge. Xavier took hold of her hand and led her out of the darkness.

He let go and, moments later, she was surrounded in brilliant sunshine! Her bare feet were touching smooth, sun-warmed wood. Oh, it was a glorious feeling.

“Run!” Xavier ordered. His voice was no longer close. He sounded as if he were very far away or speaking from under water.

“Where are you, Xavier?”

“Run!” He sounded more garbled and farther away.

So, she ran. Fast. Her feet slapped against wood as fresh air breezed against her bare skin. Earthbound at last, Eris smiled and ran faster.
I'm free!
A gentle wind blew through her hair, lifting her locks as she sped naked along the bridge. Oh, sweet freedom was exhilarating. Such happiness had eluded her for so long, she wanted to express it by engaging in a lewd dance while naked on the bridge, but she had to keep running before the portal closed.

“You're going the wrong way.” His distorted voice was filled with disgust.

Confused, she faltered a little before getting her bearing. She whirled around and began running in the opposite direction.

“Too late!” He chuckled scornfully.

“No! Xavier, come back! Help me!” In an instant, Eris felt her body being whooshed into a fast-moving vortex, whirling about for what seemed like an eternity. Xavier's malicious laughter echoed in her ears. Finally, all motion stopped. There was stillness and Xavier's laughter blended in with a distant buzzing sound. The sunshine was gone and the air was dank and vaporous.

Shrouded in darkness and disoriented, Eris's body trembled. She struggled for clarity as she took in her surroundings. Her cobalt eyes swept back and forth. After regaining her focus, her eyes became wide with incredulity. Furious, she inhaled, filling her nostrils with the recognizable noxious odor—the despicable stench that permeated the Dark Realm.

The buzzing in her ears grew louder and became the familiar sound of scratching, clawing, growling, screeching, as Eris's unholy brethren maimed and molested each other.

“Xavier! You bastard!” she cried in her mind. There was no answer; not even the sound of his mocking laughter. Their connection was broken.

Desiring to inflict pain, she randomly selected the first creature that came into view. It was a female creature—a floozy with yellow hair and large brown eyes. The female batted her lashes and enticingly licked her lips. Her undulating hips invited males to get down in the soot with her.

The wanton female was out of compliance with Eris's law. She'd lost sight of the fact that Eris was the Queen Bee of the Dark Realm—all the males' sexual organs belonged to Eris alone. She doled their services out to the females as she saw fit.

Mistakenly, the tramp thought she could secretly solicit sex while Eris was preoccupied in meditation.

Eris cast glowering blue eyes upon the woman.

“Don't!” The female screamed and threw up an arm to shield her eyes from the blinding light of Eris's harsh glare.

A flock of terrified creatures scrambled and leapt out of Eris's sight, blending into the shadows, burrowing into the soot.

Eris narrowed an eye, rotated her head, panning her vision to zoom in on the target. She shot out a penetrating blue light. It burned through the female's arm, scorching her eyeball.

“Aah,” the female screamed, covering the injured eye with the palm of her hand. The cry of pain excited Eris, inciting her to keep her burning gaze riveted on the creature's face. She sent another hot beam of blue light to the offensive female's right eye, blazing through the eyeball and socket until smoke streamed out of the back of the creature's head and her yellow hair caught afire before she burst into flames.

Eris's taunting laughter rang out and soon others joined in with a cacophony of hellish squeals, hoots, and cackles. The yellow-haired female burned and the stench of smoldering flesh and hair commingled with the usual foul odor that infused the Dark Realm. Aroused by the fetid air, the vile and demented creatures drooled and hissed; they slithered and gyrated in sexual urgency. Eris nodded her head, permitting them to indulge their perverted desires.

Her eyes gleamed, her body quivered with excitement as she watched the savage ruckus. But the mêlée provided only momentary distraction from her problem. Frustration set in and once again, Eris felt caged and resentful. She had to escape.

Hatching an escape plan required privacy. She needed her own private space—a cavern similar to Xavier's former domicile would give her the silence necessary to concentrate. She called on Xavier for help in constructing her own quarters, but he remained inaccessible.

“Tara!” she cried out. “Tara! Goddess of Compassion and loving sister, I beseech you to have mercy on me! Save me from this dark and unremitting punishment.”

THE GODDESS REALM

Their fingers laced, Tara and Zeta walked briskly past the garden of bluebells.

“Oh!” Tara winced. Her hastened footsteps faltered as she pressed her hand against her throbbing temple.

Instinctively, Zeta raised a wing, caressing Tara's back her soft feathers. “What is it, mistress? Are you ill?”

“No. I felt a sharp pain. It's gone now.”