Wicked Love

by Lisa Manifold

  My brother Caleb was older, and he’d gone into the Navy. Which left me, at fifteen, with nowhere to go. I’d already been helping at Magnolia House, and two days before Caleb was supposed to leave for basic training, Talia had come to the house.

  “What are you going to do once your brother is gone?” she asked, walking around our small shotgun shack, looking at everything but touching nothing.

  “Live here. Get a job,” I said. I didn’t need her or anyone else prying into my life.

  “I could get you a job, and a place to live. And something to study. A calling,” Talia looked up at me.

  “Yeah? Like what?” I asked. Life had taught me that no one gave something away for nothing.

  “With me. In the coven’s library,” Talia said simply.

  I went with her. Although in hindsight, where would I have gone? By the time I was seventeen, I was attending college, and working with Talia on anything she happened to work on.

  That’s what had been bothering me about the file on Melasina’s mom. I’d seen it before. I just couldn’t remember where. But now, standing in the shower hoping I didn’t stink, I remembered.

  Talia had worked on it. She’d been working on it when I’d first come to work with her in the library.

  She never let me work on it with her, of course. I was an intern, a kid. There was no way in hell I’d get to touch a case like this.

  But the notes—the odd notes in the back of the file. That had been Talia’s handwriting. Shit.

  Shit shit shit.

  I needed to go and see her. See why it was that there were people who had reported seeing Sariah Cormier to the librarians, why this file was popping back up onto the radar.

  I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. I thought about Talia, and I thought about Melasina. What would I say to her? That I knew the woman who ran your mother off? That I helped her? A long ago memory came to me unbidden. I was watching—oh, Goddess. I was watching Melasina’s house. Well, her parents’ house. I remembered seeing a small girl, with long wavy black hair, holding the hand of Sariah Cormier. And then seeing Marshall Cormier come home, and swing the little girl through the air, and kiss his wife. I sat there all night, and in the dark hours of the morning, I watched Sariah Cormier head out of her house alone, in a long, dark cloak. She went straight to a local church, and began to dig at the graves.

  I’d called Talia immediately. She told me to use my phone to record Sariah, and assured me that she was on her way. Seven minutes later, as Sariah was tugging a corpse out of the coffin of the small crypt, Talia arrived. She’d strode over to Sariah and stunned her.

  That was the last I’d seen of the woman. I didn’t know it at the time, who she was. But now, I saw it all again, and I knew this had to be Melasina’s mom.

  Which meant I had to tell Melasina.

  Shit.

  I didn’t know which fire to try and put out first.

  I’d only been seventeen. I was desperate for a family, and Talia provided it. I hadn’t questioned her. Who would? She was the Head Librarian. I hadn’t even thought about the family I was watching, what would happen to them, to the little girl, as I recorded the woman at the graves. I’d only thought about how proud Talia would be of me.

  And then I wondered how the curse had hit Melasina. What was the cure? Face your greatest fear?

  Where did I start?

  I feared the loss of security. Of a home, and a place to belong. Of a job. Of the ability to take care of myself.

  Most of all… I shook my head and got dressed. “It can’t be that easy,” I said out loud. That couldn’t be it. It had to be more.

  Unwilling to think about my fears any longer, I went to my messenger bag and pulled out the file. The damned file that was haunting me. I looked up Melasina’s number and called her.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Jasper.”

  “Hi,” she breathed into the phone, and I wanted nothing more than to go over and spend the rest of the day making her scream, making us both scream until we were hoarse and worn out.

  “I wanted to come see you today, but I have some work to do first.”

  “I didn’t get up until late,” Melasina said. “For which I think I have you to thank.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, making my voice deep.

  We both laughed, and it was the laugh of two people who had recently been naked, and would hopefully be naked again.

  “What are you working on? The Magnolia House thing?” Melasina asked.

  “Yes. I think we’ve figured out that everyone who heard Thea is cursed.”

  “That makes sense. It was a hell of a spell. What’s the focus of the curse?” Her voice changed, and I wondered if she noticed.

  “You are in trouble until you face your fear.”

  “Really?”

  I heard it again. Yep, definitely something there.

  “Yes. I figured out something had gone wrong when I did a cleaning spell on myself and my boss told me I smelled like a skunk.”

  There was a silence on the other end, and then Melasina burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said between laughs. “It’s not funny, but it is!”

  “It’ll be funny later. I tried to do a cleaning spell on my boss,” I said.

  “And?”

  “She smelled like a skunk, too.”

  “Is that what’s happening to everyone?” All the laughter was gone from her voice.

  “No. People at the house were having different reactions. The best guess of the librarians is that you have to face your biggest fear to put things right.”

  “Some people will never be the same,” Melasina said.

  “No, they won’t. Have you noticed a change in anything?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I can’t use magic.”

  “What?” I whispered. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I tried to make coffee, do the dishes, do some… cleaning, and I couldn’t do any of it. These aren’t hard spells, either. I’ve known them forever.”

  I found myself nodding even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “I understand. I’ll need to let my bosses know.”

  “Fine,” Melasina said, and there was a definite change in her voice.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

  “I’m not a fan of your career choice,” her voice was tight.

  “Why? Oh, uh… well, that makes sense,” I said, remembering Talia. It was Talia who’d singlehandedly sent her mother away. Well, not single handedly. I’d helped.

  I hadn’t paid attention to the details in the file when I’d first seen it. I was busy, the grave disturbances were at a really inconvenient time, I had to go pick up my suit—on and on. I didn’t even remember my late night stake out until this morning. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”

  “I need to talk to you, too,” Melasina breathed over the phone.

  Everything else was forgotten. The sound of her voice, that breathy tone, made me instantly hard and I could hear my heartbeat pounding at the thought of her naked body under me.

  “Put me on video,” I commanded. There was something about her that made me want to take charge, to dominate.

  There was a hesitation, a catch in Melasina’s breath, and then she switched to the camera feature. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing short shorts, no shoes, and a tank top with no bra. I could see her nipples through the camera.

  “Let your hair down,” I said.

  Her mouth parted, her eyes wide, Melasina’s hand went up to her hair and pulled out the band holding it up. Her dark locks tumbled around her face and down onto her breasts.

  “Take off your shorts,” I said, my voice husky.

  The camera shook a little as she stood, and slid the shorts down her long legs. She wasn’t wearing panties. “I approve of the lack of underwear,” I said with a smile.

  Melasina didn’t reply, onl
y smiled. That smile, her faith in me—it made me so hard it hurt.

  “Why are you all dressed up?” she asked.

  “What would you like to see?”

  “Are you going to tell me to touch myself?” Her head dropped down and she looked up at me through her lashes.

  “I was,” I said.

  “Then I want to see you touch yourself, too,” Melasina said.

  I’d never, ever done this before. I’d had a couple of girlfriends, but my work took priority, and I never felt this… adventurous. This excited.

  I unbuttoned the button on my jeans, and then unzipped them slowly. I pushed down my briefs, and my cock sprang free. “Is this what you wanted to see?” I said.

  “Yes,” Melasina nodded, her voice a purr. “I’m showing you mine. I want you to show me yours.” She drew a finger between her legs.

  My cock throbbed in response and I had to stop myself from groaning.

  She dragged her fingers across her pussy, a small moan escaping her.

  I took my cock in my hand, giving it a few strokes. I wasn’t going to last long if—

  “The chickens! The chickens are loose!” A woman’s voice from what sounded like somewhere in the house, shrieked at air siren volume.

  Melasina’s head jerked up as though she’d been shot, and she dropped the phone.

  “Shit!” I heard her swear, and there was a rush of footsteps. Then the phone was picked up, and Melasina was tugging on her shorts with one hand. “I’m sorry, Jasper, my neighbor, Zelda—she’s old, and she—I’m coming,” she yelled. She looked back down at the camera. “I’m really sorry. Can I have a rain check?”

  “Yes, you can,” I said.

  Before I could say anything else, make something of the clusterfuck that had just occurred, she hung up.

  Right now, I could wring Zelda’s neck right along with the damn chickens. Well, hell. I stood up, tucking myself back in. Zelda’s steam whistle shriek had effectively killed all my sex mojo. Probably for the best. I had things to do.

  But then, I was going to see Melasina, and I was going to tell her the truth. About Talia, and me, and the part I’d played in the exile of her mother.

  And I was going to hope for the best.

  First, however, I needed to go see Talia. The notes in the back of Sariah’s file had to be clarified. If I was going to risk whatever this was with Melasina, I needed to be sure.

  Chapter Nine

  Melasina

  “Zelda! What in the hell are you doing?” I’d moved Zelda into my office, setting her reliquary on the desk. So she could look out the window. Which meant I was probably going insane, but whatever. I’d already graduated to grave robbing. Might as well go all in, right?

  Turning the reliquary around, I glared at the skull. “You want to explain what that was all about?”

  “You’re already short on magic,” she said, not at all repentant. “And you’re going to go give more of it to some magic man? I don’t care what he does to you, it’s not worth your magic!”

  “He’s not stealing my magic!” I shouted back. “That’s already gone!”

  “After you gave yourself to him. Like you were about to again.”

  “Yeah, and it would have been great,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “You can’t keep doing that. I like Jasper. I can’t see where we could go if you keep shouting about chickens.”

  “The little death is indeed marvelous, but it is fleeting,” Zelda said.

  “The little death?” I asked.

  “The completion, the place where the sky explodes around you,” she said. If she had been standing in front of me, I would have bet she was grinding her teeth.

  “Oh, orgasm.”

  “Yes, the completion. When you orgasm,” she spoke the unfamiliar word slowly, “You are open as you are no other time. Your spirit, your magic, your very soul is vulnerable and on display.”

  “That’s kind of part of the point,” I said.

  “That’s when they steal it,” she insisted.

  “What the hell happened to you?” If I was remembering my history correctly, Zelda Dupuis had never married. Never had children, although she’d taken in many during her time as the leader of our coven. One of my ancestors had a claim to her in that fashion.

  “I fell in love. His name was Ronan. Ronan Dhu, Ronan the Black, for he was a tall, dark man, much like your own.” Her voice sounded distant.

  “And he asked me to consummate our love, to pledge ourselves to one another. He was a Druid, a man of magic from the isles, and when he talked, his voice could carry me to green pastures in another world.”

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “I agreed. What else would I do? My parents approved, even though he was Irish, not French. He was a Druid, and a scholar, and a man of repute.” She stopped.

  A feeling of overwhelming sadness came over me. It wasn’t mine—it was Zelda’s.

  “We met one night, under the full moon. He insisted. He wanted to see me by moonlight,” Zelda said. “And we spoke words that bound us, and then I let my dress fall. I was wearing nothing underneath—not stays, petticoats, nothing. He stared at me in the moonlight, and lay me down upon the furs he’d brought.” She stopped.

  When she spoke again, her voice had lost the dreamy tone of memory. “Well, you know what happened next. As we reached the completion, and I cried out for him, I felt a hand reach inside of me.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to picture this.

  “No, not a physical hand. It was a cold shadow hand that reached beneath my heart. I looked up to see his face, and Ronan, the man who’d just pledged himself to me, was directing a shadow toward me, even as he proclaimed his loved for me. The hand tugged at me, and I knew it was trying to take my magic. The tugging was on my magical soul. I’d never believed in such a thing,” Zelda said. “But that night, I felt it.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I shoved at him with all my might, calling on the Goddess to give me her strength. He flew from me, and got to his knees, his mouth open and twisted in a snarl of anger. ‘Give it to me!’ he shouted, and he pointed at me. The shadow I’d seen below my heart came toward me with the swiftness of a snake. I sent a wall of flame toward him, tears streaming down my face. Then I cast a holding spell, and when the flames died down, I could see him, naked, arm still thrown up toward me.”

  “Oh, Zelda,” I said.

  “I dressed, crying as I did so. I cloaked him, for even as a young girl, I was skilled. I was already training then to be the High Priestess. I brought him to my home, and my parents… well, suffice to say my parents were not happy that I’d given myself to him before marriage. They were even less so when they’d learned of his deception.”

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  “He was stripped of his magic, which is the punishment for one who would steal magic from another. Our bond was broken. I lost a piece of myself, as is appropriate. His memory was erased, and he was sent back to Ireland to live the life of a normal, fallen man.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “I was ruined. No one would have me, not after I’d given myself to him. Not only that I’d given myself to someone I wasn’t yet married to, but everyone knew. And I was questioned, for I had not seen his true nature.”

  “I understand that,” I said, thinking of my life since my mother left.

  “But I kept my magic, chéri. He did not succeed, and I rose to become all that I was supposed to be.”

  “I don’t think that’s Jasper’s end goal,” I said.

  “I would have fought to the death defending Ronan,” she replied. “Perhaps you are right. Things are different. You are not ruined by allowing a man close, and that’s something good, to my way of thinking. But that doesn’t mean men are any better. There are always men—and women—who would steal what is not theirs.”

  “Have you seen that?” I asked.

  “Many times,” her voice was sad. “I want to prot
ect you, Melasina.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because you are a member of my coven. Of my family. I will not see harm come to you.”

  “Even as I’m digging up bodies?” I asked.

  “Even then. You are not your mother,” she replied.

  I sat down, thinking about all she’d said. “I think my magic loss is due to the curse Thea threw down on us at the ball,” I said.

  “I would agree, but I would have you be careful. Jasper is skilled with his body,” she said, her voice grave.

  The words gave me the giggles. I covered my mouth to try and stop them, because I didn’t want her yelling at me. He was very skilled with his body. And there was something in his voice, his manner that spoke to something deep inside me.

  I’d spent so much of my life being careful, being so controlled, so perfect. I didn’t put a toe out of line, because I feared what would happen if I did. But with Jasper? I wanted to be out of control. I wanted to allow him to lead me to all the dark, sweaty, places where it was just the two of us. Giving, taking, and each other. Nothing more.

  I could see that with him. “I’ll be careful. No more chickens, all right?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Very well. You know, now, and you are warned. Do you have a spell that could cast him from you?”

  “Um, no magic?” I waggled my fingers at her. “Remember?”

  “You are defenseless,” she grumbled. “What timing.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” I said. “But what if it’s the curse? What was it you said? You have to face your greatest fear?” I couldn’t remember what it was that Thea had shouted.

  “You young witches. What has happened to memorizing what you hear?” Zelda said. “I remember the pertinent lines.

  I damn you to your darkest fear

  I bind you to dread’s cold embrace

  Until your truth you boldly face,”

  she chanted. “That’s the part where she drops the curse on you. You have to face your darkest fear. That’s if the man hasn’t stolen your magic.”

  “Jasper told me that other witches are experiencing problems. He can’t do magic correctly.”