by K Fisher
But for a brief time, the strong man above her, one of Faye’s closest friends, felt love. Something he had never experienced in his life and always desired more than anything else, even pride. A love that was intensified and pure, without distraction and worry. One that was completely and utterly superficial, completely and utterly believable.
His body shuddered above Faye as he groaned, eyes softening as he captured her in a gaze that left her breathless. It was one of adoration and worship and Faye wondered if she didn’t truly love Tucker in some twisted way.
Or did she simply love being wanted?
Shoving aside the mixed feelings, her hands slowly scratched down his strong back, relishing in the hiss of emotion that spilled from Tucker’s lips. His body quickened as his needy and rough touch turned into one that was gentle and explorative, driving her body to orgasm alongside his own.
Their bodies were taking part in the drug of each other.
Chapter Ten
The group had not fought Hazel when they set her up in her room, did not intervene when she locked the door and hid herself away from them all to call it a night. She was trying her hardest to reach some kind of understanding of things, to come to terms with how long she had been trapped in the spell; A world devised to trick her. But more than that, she was desperate to be alone with the paperwork Faye had presented to her, paperwork that surely gave her more answers than she had ever been allowed in the past.
There had been an entire dresser drawer full of clothing from her apartment already moved to the lodge, as though they really believed she was simply going to cut her ties with her lease and just move in with them to fight evil spirits. If she even had a lease. If she wasn’t damn near pronounced dead at that point. More likely? Everyone probably thought her ‘mental illness’ had gotten the better of her, sending her running away from the life she knew or into the grip of suicide.
Hazel wasn’t certain who resided in the room prior to her arrival, but there was a floral scent that floated in the air around her. A woman’s rock shirt was shoved to the back of one of the dresser drawers in a bundled heap. It seemed well worn, a band shirt for a group she was unfamiliar with, the floral scent covering the article of clothing, almost lingering on her fingers when she dropped it back to the drawer, feeling as though she had disrupted something the moment her hands found the fabric.
Hazel made quick work of looking in every crack and crevice of the bedroom before deeming it private enough to open the folders that had been given to her. Charlie was happy enough with everything going on now that she had returned. He curled up on the bed the moment she had dragged him inside, fast asleep despite the craziness in the world around him. He was blissfully unaware of the panic his owner was overcoming with each moment to digest the information alone.
Hazel could hear kitchenware and the soft undertones of her captors speaking with each other down the hallway, but she was unable to make out what they were saying to each other. It was fine, hearing them so far away ensured she was alone in the room and area for the time being. Sitting on the floor, she spread out the folders as she had when she worked with cases, allowing all the information to hit her at once as she opened each one. Hazel’s eyes narrowed, scanning the paperwork in front of her, searching for names and understanding.
As an adult, she had talked her adoptive father into giving her the information he possessed, but had been informed by the adoption agency that there was no knowledge of who had left her, no one had come forth and tried to claim her or get in contact with her. It was a lost cause and Hazel had been okay with that. Of course, there was a curiosity that always remained, but the girl had accepted her adoptive mother and father as her only parents, and even with them both gone now, she did not search for people to fill in that space. Hazel did not need to find faces of her bloodline to feel complete. So why did her hands shake slightly as she grasped onto a piece of paper in the middle of the pile? The words on it capturing her instantly.
Two full names, and a full report written the night she was dropped off at the community home. The notes contained information she had not been privy to in the past, information that kept her eyes glued to the page, one hand absentmindedly moving the other paper around her to make room for the one in her hands. Laying it down upon the ground, Hazel murmured the words out loud to herself several times, allowing them to sink into her chest and remain captured there for all of time, just in case the paperwork left her.
“Mother, Lenora Marie Levy. Father, Markus Eugene Levy. Paperwork filed by August Tamoro on April 5th, 1991. One year old daughter left under the care of the state, donation and log placed in the care of August Tamoro, reference number 832991.”
Soon enough, the words were ingrained in her brain, names that she had never known and a man she would seek out once some of the chaos in her life had finished. It was information she would keep dear to her until it finally cleared some confusion from her mind.
Tearing away from the document, Hazel took a look at some of the other papers in the file given to her, most of them behavioral records from the agency that took her in. Despite how badly Hazel wanted to read every word on the papers before her, to bring some more clarity to herself, they became more and more fuzzy the longer she gazed at the pages. Yawns turned into groans, grunts into stretches, and despite how uncomfortable she was at the unfamiliar location and with those people, Hazel curled up on the bed with the papers in hand, reserving herself to read them in the confines of her blankets. Soon enough, she found herself asleep, the papers falling to the floor beneath her hand as they scattered, the information upon them a swarm in Hazel’s mind she could not hide from.
“You are home.”
The words were on repeat, an echo in the darkness surrounding Hazel. She had no form, no age, unable to even feel the ground beneath her feet. The body dysmorphia was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Like she was but an essence, floating in a void.
“Who’s there?” Hazel had a voice, at least. The moment she said the words the others stopped, leaving her in excruciating silence.
Suddenly, her stomach lurched, body falling downward as a scream tore from Hazel’s lips; panic seized her body, certain that she would smash against the ground at any moment, feel the life lift from her body and cease to exist. This was it, surely this was it and she’d be destroyed when she hit the end of the void.
Hazel instead splashed into a large body of water. Her hands scrambled for the surface as her legs locked together and pushed upward as the shock of the landing drove the remaining air from her lungs and left her swallowing salt water. Strong thighs fought against the current that threatened to pull her deeper and deeper into the waves and the unknown. Darkness diminishing around her, just that icy shine of what could only be the ocean, a place Hazel never wanted to be, her greatest fear. She had always hated the idea of open water, the mere thought bringing fear into the pit of her stomach, but there she was, treading darkness with the water creatures humans were never supposed to be around.
With a strong and focused kick, she forced her body upward and relief swept over her as she broke to the surface.
“You are home.”
There was the voice again, but this time it did not echo around in Hazel’s mind, it was right in front of her. Scrambling to keep herself above the waves as she was pushed forward, her eyes opened, focusing on a shape in the darkness. One that seemed to be standing on water?
No. It was not water on which it stood, but an island. It was an island amidst the dark waters around her.
A hand came from the one who spoke, right in front of her offering help in her moment of need. If only Hazel could reach it.
She pushed and reached for the hand only to have another wave push her head under water, the salt filling her nose and mouth once again. Hazel was choking, legs beating wildly to bring her back to the surface and the safety of the island so close to her. Each crashing wave tore against the dark, jagged rocks at the edge of the island,
threatening to smash into her head as she was knocked forward towards them.
A strong hand grabbed hold of the back of her shirt, pulling her forward and up from the current. There was solid ground beneath her suddenly, the grasp on her shoulder replacing the large, rough one from before.
“It was time you joined us, sweets,” came a familiar voice from behind the one who had helped her, those electric light green eyes of Danira Lacko pierced through Hazel and the darkness, freezing her in place upon the ground. The dark figure that had helped Hazel left her upon the ground and moved behind Danira, coming into focus slowly as she sputtered and coughed up the swallowed water. He was the being she had interacted with before, the one that Faye had tried to fight off when she was trapped in Danira’s spell, Nico. He was staring at her, brown eyes amidst the shadows that made up his frame. Then, he seemed to look around, searching for something, or someone? Clearly he seemed disappointed that Hazel was alone, eyes flashing back to her. Disinterested.
“Is this even real?” Hazel spat, inching away from Danira on the ground as she tried to create some distance between them. The older woman frowned, one hand moving to tentatively touch the thin braid of blonde hair over her left shoulder as she studied Hazel. Behind her, lightning cracked against the black sky, illuminating the threatening, enormous waves that crashed against the shore around them all the more.
“Most real, Hazel dear. I have a deal for you, much like before.” She took a step forward, a soft smile on her lips. One that left Hazel uneasy, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she fought for breath still, eyes looking all around her.
Ocean. Nothing but dark waves. No sign of land except the rock they were on. Hardly any room for her to run or move, let alone get away from the two before her, if that thing with Danira was even human. Hazel racked her mind, trying to remember what the group had said about him, earlier - if they had or if that was also a dream.
Everything was flooded together, that lucidity screwing with her sense of right and wrong, real or fake.
“Tell me what you want from me.” Confidence, she was happy she still had it.
“Don’t be so hostile, sweets. You can leave when I allow it. Remember when I offered you the deal before? A chance to get rid of the spirits that plague you in exchange for your power. That’s it. You can return to your world, never see these things again.” Her accent was thick, eyes wild and excited as she spoke to Hazel.
But already Hazel was zoning her out, focusing instead on what Madame Lacko wasn’t presenting to her. The twitch behind her bright eyes, the wringing of her wrinkled hands nervously. The need. She wanted this from Hazel too much, needed it too much.
She could get rid of the voices, rid of the demons and the things that followed her. Taunted her.
No, the spirits had not seemed to want to taunt or harm her in the past, only recently. Had Danira put them there in the first place? Driving her mad? Ruining her life while she tried to make her feel like there was no better option than to take her deal and succumb to whatever twisted fate she had in store?
Instead of fear and hope, Hazel was filled with a rage and power she had not felt before. Fed up. She was fed up of this woman and these things forcing her to live in fear, taking over her mind and holding her captive. Despite how badly she wanted to get away from the group that had come into her life, they had been the only ones to help her. This woman? She wasn’t trying to save Hazel. She was trying to twist things, control her.
Hazel was standing and didn’t remember how that had happened or where the strength had come from. Her body moved beyond her control as she took a few steps towards Danira. There was a relief in the woman’s eyes as she appeared to assume Hazel was accepting her offer, then the quick flash of confidence that Hazel immediately caught onto. A look that confirmed everything she had wondered about.
“I want you to go away. I want you to fuck off, witch. I was born with this and I’m not giving it to anyone. I don’t know who you really are, or what you are really trying to do here, but if you mess with me I’ll take you down. Do you understand me?” By the end of her words, Hazel was yelling, a mere few inches from Danira, looking up into the woman’s eyes.
A woman who seemed to get ever taller as rage twisted her face into something ugly, something haunting. “You stupid, stupid girl,” she hissed, hand lashing out, lightning fast as she grasped onto Hazel’s arm like she had in the tent when Hazel first met her. There was a heat, a burn that ripped through her body at the touch, Danira’s nails breaking skin. This time? It wasn’t hid under a soft guise of gentle words, the pain was instant and searing.
“Let GO OF ME!” Hazel tried to yank away from that iron grasp, but it was no use. Her other hand moved to pry the wrinkled and strong hand off her when a flash of blue light filled the air around them, dancing along the waves and spreading across the rocks.
Danira’s body launched backwards into the dark mist that compiled her guard, the blackness breaking as she landed upon the ground. Scrambling to her feet, her hand was bloodied where she had grasped Hazel. Looking down at her own arm, Hazel saw the glowing, painful handprint upon her skin and kept it close to her side. Suddenly there was something behind her, something that seemed to envelope Hazel in a mist of light. Taking away that pain and leaving nothing but a numbing comfort behind.
“Leave her alone.”
Hazel did not dare turn, knowing already what was behind her, the blue light so familiar, her Guardian, Aiden. There for the first time since the moment deep within Danira’s spell in her therapists office he was there helping her.
“Hello…brother,” Danira hissed. Her eyes were wild with anger, spit leaving her mouth as she yelled out the next words. Behind her, the dark mass under her control launched forward towards them.
“Bring them to me, now!”
Hazel yelled out, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed as one hand lifted to clutch at the front of her shirt, as if she were trying to keep her heart from tearing free of her chest and running away. Home, was she home? For a second she tried to convince herself of it, but the moment those mocha painted walls came into sight, the paperwork still sprawled across the floor, she was pulled back into reality.
Not a dream. Not a dream. Every fiber of Hazel’s being was in favor of that chilling fact. On the ground next to her bed there was a hissing, Charlie’s eyes on her, hair lifted in anger as his yellow eyes narrowed in on her exposed skin.
Looking down to her arm, Hazel’s eyes fell on the red handprint, the burn that shone brightly against her skin. Despite the pain behind dulled, it was still there and so very very real, which meant that everything she had experienced somehow translated into the real world and the harm caused to her could be far worse next time.
Not a dream. None of this was, and now Danira was pissed, really pissed.
Aiden. Of course. Danira was his sister…
A soft knock at her door forced Hazel out of her thoughts, a curse leaving her lips as she rubbed both hands through the messy locks of her long brown hair, trying to rid herself of the already growing headache the nightmare had invoked.
“Morning sunshine. We have bacon if you’re hungry,” Faye’s cheerful voice sounded out from the other side of the door. Hazel’s stomach responded immediately, no matter how twisted up it was about what had just happened, clearly she was able to still crave food. When was the last time she had anything real to eat? How did that work when she was trapped in the spell? There were a million questions she had about that, but something told her they were secondary questions to that bigger picture: Was she going to join this group? She would have time to figure out the minor details later once the dust had settled.
“Thanks.” No Hazel. Don’t thank your captors. It was so hard not to respond kindly to the bubbly Faye, even when her allure was not in play. Hazel had to remind herself that she was in no way sold or obligated to help them with whatever suicide mission the group was hellbent to continue. Despite not having anything concrete in he
r existence to return to, unsure what parts of her life were still intact after all of this.
Remembering the story Aiden had told her when she was young, the terrors of what the Affinity could do and how it could destroy the ones who harnessed it, it had truly scared her. She had seen some of that first hand, now, so why was she not confirming that she wanted to be rid of it all? Danira had offered to help her get rid of the spirits, but it was clear that was not something done in good faith or likely to end with her being able to keep her life. But was this new group the same? No. They said they needed her help, they were not offering help of their own, despite saving her ass the previous day.
In all truth, Hazel had made her mind up when she yelled at Danira in the dream confrontation, challenging the woman to try something. This group was her only chance at being able to back up her words to the ancient power of Danira. From the second her Guardian had shared the stories with her when she was young she had fought to keep her power at bay. At first, it was a painful process to ignore the growing tingling of power at her fingertips every time she saw another shadow. To ignore the need to be special and to utilize it to her advantage in life, but she had trusted the being, and did not want to end up as the others had, as the stories he had shared. Fear had kept her away from that power, and now she was being asked to do the exact opposite and jump into the other realm further.
She had tried to keep it at bay and the danger had come to her. When Faye and the others had spoken of Danira and her power, she had known there was something familiar there. When she had met the woman, it was under a cloud of uneasiness, everything within her begging her to run. If she was right, then she understood what was happening more than she could ever wish to. Hazel had always been one to fight for what was right, and go against what was evil, but in doing so, it had still fought to destroy her life.
