For the Love of Magic

by Natalie Gibson

  Both of her captors were wholly evil, but the driver was just a man. A stocky man in his late thirties, she would guess. Stupid but strong, he probably played college football. He did all of the punching and kicking and choking, but it was the other man that was truly horrifying.

  Larger than Teddy, he looked like a man, but he was some kind of monster. Swollen and puffy, he had coarse dark hair over reddish skin. His mouth and nose protruded like a muzzle from his face. Marcie was glad she couldn’t be forced to look at his eyes, for they disturbed her most of all. No white, no black, nothing but a blood red orb.

  This one had all of the ideas, all the plans for making her cry and bleed. He wanted to watch the violence, only taking part in the most delicate atrocities. Over the last few hours, she had answered every one of their questions about the Daughters, if only for the pain-free seconds it had bought her.

  The monster’s bites covered every part of her body. The other man had carefully bandaged the places where the monster had taken chunks of her flesh then bled on her. His blood burned like acid and she could not keep from screaming each time they applied this “treatment.” The monster said that his blood would keep her from dying until he was ready. The man looked longingly at the fluid as it dripped onto her wounds.

  She’d wanted to give up, surrender to the blackness, but Nathalia’s voice had broken through the haze of violence. Marcie, stay alive. We’re coming for you. Tank’s coming for you. Don’t give up. She had thrown up, as she always had when the Abbess spoke inside her head. She could never hide the suffering it caused her, like some of the other girls. Her kidnappers had not suspected that her vomiting was linked to anything other than their inhuman cruelty. They’d seen it as a sign that they were winning.

  The driver was gone now. Betrayed, eaten alive right in front of her. It was just the monster and her, alone in the abandoned warehouse.

  He constantly touched her and she hated it, but did not fight. She didn’t have the strength to do anything but breathe. He was stronger now, but seemed less bent on hurting her. He said it was her tears and blood, the violence to a zonah, a temple prostitute, that brought him back to life. Now that she had fulfilled that first purpose, she was to provide him with his eternal bride.

  The monster whispered to her, licked her neck, got up slowly and pulled away from her. She wanted to cry out for help, to run, but she couldn’t move. Her breath sounded wet, but she kept the air coming in and going out. The repeating gurgle told her she wasn’t going to last if Tank and the Daughters didn’t show up soon.

  The monster taunted, “So, human, you come to save her? It is too late. Look there at your bride...she belongs to death now. If only you had gotten here sooner you could have watched.”

  “I am going to kill you.” Marcie recognized Tank’s voice and would have wept if she’d been able.

  “You can try,” the monster growled.

  Marcie heard blow after blow hitting bloated flesh. Tank pummeled the monster relentlessly. The monster laughed the whole time. She could hear bones breaking and blood splattering. Tank was killing it, and she was glad she lived long enough to know it was dying.

  Then something changed. More people surrounded her. A large hand touched her head gently. “She lives and so does the baby,” a male voice said. Strangely, it sounded like the monster’s had, two voices from one mouth, but instead of hate they were filled with concern.

  A different two voices further away said, “Theodore, stop.” There was a scuffling sound and Tank cursed. “This one only grows stronger with your violence and hatred. Your wife and child live. Go to them and let us bring justice to our brother.”

  The monster whimpered, spat, and cursed at those who threatened him with justice and called him brother. Some words she could understand and some were in a language she had never heard before. She knew he begged for his life and she wished she could laugh. She heard him scream as the other men, who had come with Teddy to save her, began to sing.

  Gentle strength filled voices were too numerous for her to count. Beautiful, unlike anything else in the world, they turned each word into a symphony that made her teeth hurt. She didn’t understand what was happening. Why would they sing to the monster and why would it beg them to stop?

  She felt someone kneel beside her and heard Teddy ask, “Is she really still alive? How?”

  Marcie wanted to speak, to tell her Teddy that he’d made it in time. She could not even find the strength to lift her head from the floor. She was so cold, but could not shiver.

  The double-voiced man said, “She is alive because the sacrilegious one needed her to supply him with a paramour of sex and violence. She has experienced things no human should endure. We will heal her but first hold her close and turn to look upon the creature. Watching us administer justice will help your mind ameliorate even if you cannot remember it.”

  She felt a rush of wind, a burst of sunlight and smelled fire. The monster was gone.

  A GIANT brought Marcie in then left. Another replaced him, larger than the bodybuilding pros Tank worked out with. Tank didn’t like that the man dressed as a doctor kept touching Marcie in her unconsciousness. Marcie would not like that. After what they’d said she’d been through, she would be wary of men and strangers. He demanded, “Is there a woman who could heal her?”

  “No,” said the goliath doctor. “Your wife is with child and the Panacea here would kill the baby with her very presence. I can save them both if you and she can tolerate my company.”

  Tank sat stunned. Your wife is with child. The words were stuck on replay in his mind. He couldn’t believe it; he was going to be a dad. That is, if she made it. No he couldn’t think that way. She was here; she was breathing. No matter how dead she looked, he had to believe they were both going to make it.

  “Teddy?”

  Tank jumped at his wife’s first word. He fought the urge to gather her up in his arms, squeezing her hand instead. “I’m here, right here,” he assured her with his voice since here eyes were still too swollen for her to see him.

  “You saved me.” Her voice was raspy. She still wheezed but her breathing was less labored. Tank would take that dry sound over the wet one she had when she came in.

  “No, not me. I wanted to; I tried, but it was one of the bodyguards of the Daughters that found you.”

  “You don’t remember saving me?” Her brow furrowed.

  His voice cracked as he kissed her forehead, smoothing away the worry lines. “I love you, Marcie.”

  “I love you too, Teddy.”

  Teddy gently put his hand on her abdomen. “The doctor says she’s fine. It’s a girl, did you know?”

  The bruising and swelling made it impossible to tell what she was thinking. Placing her I.V. hand over his on her stomach, she smiled. The action caused her split lip to reopen and the teeth that showed were coated in blood. Tank wanted to kill whoever did this to her. Her smile faded and she screamed, “Oh, my god! Get her away from me! Don’t let her kill our baby!”

  She struggled to get up. The doctor jumped in, placing his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from moving, “Peace, Marcie. Your Panacea is not here.” Marcie stopped struggling but sat stiff until he stopped touching her. “I was asked to heal you since you are with child. May I have your permission to continue?”

  “Yes,” she croaked after a moment. Tank heard how dry her throat was and stood to get the ice chips on the counter. She gripped his hand tightly in protest.

  “I’m not leaving.” The doctor passed the cup to Tank. “Just getting you some ice.” He scooped a few pieces onto the spoon and held it to her mouth.

  She opened her mouth and Tank slid the chips onto her tongue. Resting her head on the pillow, she sighed. “More?” he asked. She shook her head no and lay perfectly still for so long that Tank thought she’d gone to sleep.

  She sounded better when at last she whispered, “How can you heal me and not kill my baby?”

  “I am unlike other healers.
Daughters earn ability through knowledge. Mine is a birthright, it cannot be taught.”

  Tank realized that this man wasn’t a doctor, but a witch. He hadn’t thought it odd until then that the physician hadn’t used any medicines or equipment on Marcie. He’d only touched her. Marcie told Tank a long time ago that only women could do magic. He looked closely at the healer. Now that he thought about it, the man wasn’t dressed as a doctor at all. He wore a nondescript cloak and there was a blurriness to him. Tank couldn’t see any specific features beyond general shape and size. Suddenly distrustful, Tank stood and demanded, “Who are you?”

  The man held his hand out. Instantly Tank felt calm. The blurry image cleared to reveal an average-looking doctor. Sitting back down, he shook his head at himself. He closed his eyes. Hearing the rest of the conversation, he paid no attention to it. Everything was fine. The doctor was taking good care of his Marcie.

  “Why doesn’t Tank remember what really happened?”

  “We have replaced his memory of it.”

  “Will you replace mine?” Marcie asked.

  “We can only block your memory, not replace it. You are woman and our abilities do not have the same power over you. Women have the most developed brains and once something is there, it will always be there. We will make it so that you cannot recall what happened to you and will blame it on head trauma. We plan to help you forget as soon as your body is healed enough for that procedure.”

  Her voice shook. “What was that monster?”

  “It is gone, justice served. We allowed your man to have his vengeance, as was his right, before we dispatched with the monster, but we cannot allow either of you to remember the Akhkharu. That knowledge endangers us all.”

  AARON AND Maeve took their time with the meal. She even drank the glass of wine that Aaron had ordered for her. It was her birthday after all. The waitress gave it away after seeing today’s date on her driver’s license. Maeve laughed at being carded on her twenty-seventh birthday. Aaron said, “I love your laugh, so boisterous and carefree.”

  Looking around, they saw that theirs was the only occupied table. Aaron asked for the check and the waitress said, “No charge. Paulo says Daughters and their dates eat free.” Aaron left a generous tip and held Maeve’s sweater while she slid in her arms. He put on his coat and, as they walked out, they heard the waitress lock the door behind them.

  A crisp breeze washed over them and their pace quickened. He zipped up his jacket as she tied her knee-length gray sweater around her waist with its woven belt. He put his arm around her shoulders as they walked through the almost-empty parking lot toward his car. Maeve said, “The cold air always makes me horny.” When he didn’t reply, she apologized, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why? If it’s the truth, you can say it. I personally prefer the warmth if I’m gonna get naked, but to each his own.”

  Maeve felt like she should tell him another truth, and as they reached the car, she did. “Aaron, I want you. Badly. It’s all I can think about when we’re together. How it would feel to be under your weight, our bodies pressed together, gasping for air as our sweat mingles…”

  She turned in his arms and kissed him. It was pure fire, impossible to ignore or quench. He kissed her back, hard, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth like she loved. She wanted to be kissed like he was going to devour her, and he gave her just that.

  She was lost for a moment in that kiss. How did he do that? He always knew how she wanted to be kissed. Tenderly, roughly, wildly, gently; he always got it right. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn it was a magical ability. Sexual empathy, if there was such a thing, would make him such a great lover.

  She tried to pull away, but he slid one hand around her tiny waist and the other he tangled into her hair at the nape of her thin neck. He palmed the back of her head and held her powerless against his hungry kiss. The message was clear: the kiss only ended when he decided.

  After he broke off the kiss her knees felt weak. It showed in her breathless tone. Her purse fell from her shoulder and hit the ground unnoticed. She whispered groggily, “What was I saying?”

  “That you wanted me.” He grinned.

  “Aaron, it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex with someone when it wasn’t…” She didn’t want to say, “work related,” because it made it sound like prostitution. She decided to go a different way. “I’m not sure I can have sex without casting the matchmaking spells. It’s become part of the sexual experience for me and I just don’t know that I can separate the two. You don’t want to be matched so I’m at a loss.”

  Aaron spun them around, and backed her up against the tree. He slid his hand around over her shoulder and down her chest, reaching inside her v-neck sweater. His other hand traced the curve of her hip, the line of her buttocks and around the bottom hem of her skirt.

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said?” asked Maeve.

  “Yes, I did, and it sounded to me like we just need to practice.”

  He slid his hand between her legs, hiking her skirt up slightly. When her legs automatically clenched together at the touch of cold air, he roughly parted them with his foot. He pressed his knee against the tree trunk behind her, using it to hold her legs apart, open for his exploration. He found her silky panties and lightly fingered the lacy edge.

  “I’m gonna make you cum. You’re going to enjoy it and so am I.”

  There was no way for her to orgasm without casting her spells. She placed her hands over his, pushing them down and away. He said, his voice low and gruff, “Put your arms up over your head.” She did what he said and instantly the temperature between them went up a few degrees. Doing what he told her felt hot. She shivered and it wasn’t from the cold. The look in his eye was a little scary, hungry and determined.

  He told her, “Don’t move and don’t try to get away.”

  His voice was rough, but he winked at her as he tugged open the right side of her sweater. His hand found the generous mound of her breast and squeezed. She let out a small moan and pressed herself into his hand. He lightly thumbed back and forth across the crotch of her panties, which were already moist with her excitement.

  It felt so good to spiral out of control, totally open and exposed to his desires. Having her hands over her head and her legs forced apart invigorated her. She was completely his for the taking.

  Aaron pulled her panties to the side with his thumb, and slipped the tip of his index finger into her warm wet folds.

  She wanted more of him inside her and tried to lower herself onto his hand. She couldn’t help herself.

  “I said don’t move.” He pressed himself to her even harder, sandwiching her against the tree. “We’re doing this at my speed and my whim. You just concentrate on not casting any spells.”

  He pushed his finger deep inside her, and back out again, picking up the pace slowly. He pressed his thumb against her sensitive pearl and rubbed.

  Maeve gasped at the increase in sensation and fought the urge to move. She felt the warm tingle start to spread across her body and limbs. She knew the white power was coming. Her mind snapped back into focus. The spell was forming.

  Aaron’s eyes were on her. He changed his rhythm slightly, and she stayed on this side of orgasm. “Maeve, come back to me. Concentrate on something else.”

  “What?” she breathed.

  “Anything.” He glanced around. “Look over there. Concentrate on those people. I think they are coming closer.” His fingers picked up the pace again, pressing further and further, strumming harder and harder.

  “Why?” she whined. Never had she been denied orgasm, never been forced to wait. The ease at which she found climax was the envy of many a Daughter.

  “Because I’m about you make you cum, and they’re gonna to hear you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  She felt the warm tingle spreading and the orgasm gathering strength. She concentrated on the couple getting closer. How must she
look to them, pressed against a tree, hands over her head in surrender, one breast exposed, skirt hiked, with a man’s fingers inside her? It worked. She was there on the cusp with the magic kept at bay.

  He clenched her breast hard to get her attention. “I want you looking at me when it happens. When you cum, say my name.” He pinched her exposed erect nipple for accent.

  She said, “Yes sir,” because it seemed the right sentiment for their play. Then the flush was on her and he slipped the fingers deep to feel her clenching. Her hips bucked to get just the right angle and as the climax rocked her, she managed to meet his demand.

  “Aaron, oh god, Aaron.”

  Her knees quivered and she dropped her arms down around his shoulders for support. She shivered with the aftershocks. He held her up against the tree while her afterglow faded and her sight came back.

  Panting, her breath as shaky as her legs, she said, “I need to sit down.”

  He kissed her neck and spoke into her ear, “You are so soft and pliant now. It makes me want to bend you over the hood of my car and take you.”

  “Why don’t you?” After that, she’d let him do just about anything he wanted.

  “I enjoy the wait, the anticipation. And we need more practice sessions.” He helped her into his car, grabbed her bag off the ground and handed it to her. He closed the door behind her and walked to his side.

  He started the engine. “Happy Birthday, Maeve. Since you didn’t tell me about your birthday ahead of time, this’ll have to be your present.”

  And what a present it had been! An orgasm just for her, without any responsibilities attached. The shock waves still rolled through her as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

  She reached over to put her hand on his leg and accidentally grazed the bulge of his excitement. Bbbzzzzzz The noise and vibration made them both jump.

  He said, “My cell.”