Tegan's Magic

by L.H. Cosway

  His words give me a fright, and instinctively I distance myself, stepping back and away from him.

  “Oh don’t be silly,” he chides, noticing my movement. “I would never even consider the idea of hurting an innocent woman. A long time ago, small groups within the DOH formed without my knowledge and began slaughtering females like you. I put an end to that practice as soon as I discovered it was happening. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  My heart rate slows down a little at his admission. “Okay. So why can’t we somehow go to Felicity and take a sample of her blood for the spell?”

  “For safety reasons I’m the only one who knows the location of the facility in which she is cared for. That means I would have to be the one to go to her, and at the moment I cannot leave the city. My position is precarious enough as it is.”

  “Well if that’s the case then I don’t know how else to help you. I need Felicity’s blood if I’m going to do this.”

  Pamphrock remains silent for a long moment. Finally he says, “Leave it to me. I will figure something out. In the meantime, you can continue your research as to the components of the rest of the spell.”

  I take a deep breath and look between the two men. They’re clearly eager to get back to their “strategy” talk. “Alright then. I’ll um, leave you both to it.”

  I go back inside, closing the door to provide Pamphrock and Finn privacy for their seemingly highly important conversation. I’d completely forgotten that I’d left Ira alone with Rebecca, and what I find on my return makes me cover my mouth with my hand to keep from bursting out laughing.

  Rebecca is kneeling on the sofa beside a stoic Ira and using a bright pink comb to brush his hair, just like she’d been doing earlier with her dolls. Ira has this gorgeous shoulder length, dark brown hair, so I can’t really blame her for wanting to get her hands on it. I sit down on the other side of him and give him a warm smile. His usually calm expression seems somewhat perplexed.

  “Isn’t it just lovely,” Rebecca exclaims, running her comb through Ira’s dark locks. “I’m going to ask Daddy to get me a new doll with hair just like this. Tegan,” she stops brushing and holds out the comb to me, “you have a go.”

  “I’m not sure if Ira likes having his hair combed,” I say, glancing up at him.

  “Don’t be silly, he loves it. Don’t you Ira?”

  He lets out a grunt that’s neither positive or negative.

  “You see, he wants you to. Go on,” says Rebecca, handing me the comb again.

  “Okay then,” I say, taking it and turning a little to Ira. He tilts his head down at me, watching what my next move will be. I reach up and run the comb through his hair, his beautiful dark eyes watching my face the entire time. I swallow visibly and he seems to watch that too.

  When my fingers absently brush against the skin at the back of his neck he leans into the touch. His skin feels nice, all warm and tanned. Perhaps he subconsciously misses how I used to pet him when he was a dog. Yeah, that has to be it. I let the comb fall to the floor when I hear the sliding doors open and Finn and Pamphrock step inside.

  I thank my lucky stars that Finn didn’t see me brushing Ira’s hair. That would have been an awkward conversation explaining to him what I was playing at.

  “Time to go boys and girls,” Finn announces, nodding goodbye to Pamphrock and gesturing for Ira and I to follow him out. Rebecca jumps up and gives me a farewell hug. Then she walks over to Ira and squeezes his hand while grinning up at him.

  The drive home is silent. When we get back to the house we find Delilah and Rita in the kitchen, both of them staring at a large jar they’ve placed on the table. Inside the jar is what looks like some kind of black and grey swirling mist.

  “What have you got there?” Finn asks, pulling up a chair.

  “Not sure exactly. Dee and I took a boat out to Ridley Island, but there was nothing much to find, just empty, barren land. Then on the way home I came across this little fella hovering by a shop doorway.” Rita’s taken to calling Delilah “Dee”. I’m surprised Delilah hasn’t told her off about it yet.

  Rita continues, “I’ve never seen anything like it, but as I told you before, I’ve heard of strange entities like this one drifting through from other realms. We watched it for a couple of minutes and it seemed to be seeping into the people who came in and out of the shop, little by little. It was a good thing I had my kit with me. I took out this jar and trapped it inside. I think it’s got to be some kind of entity that got through when Theodore came back from hell. From the way it was seeping into the people, I’d say this is what caused the riots in the city yesterday. It’s making humans go doo-lally somehow.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” says Finn, leaning in closer to study the jar. He jerks back when the mist suddenly bangs itself against the glass right where his eyes had been focused, as though it sensed him looking at it.

  Rita laughs. “Hey Finn, I think it just gave you the finger.”

  Finn smirks in return. “I think you might be right.”

  I rub at my arms, feeling a distinct chill. Something inside of me revolts at my proximity to the jar. It’s like my magic, the same magic that presented me with the pages of an unknown book inside my head today, is urging me to stay away from it.

  “You need to get it out of here,” I say, eyeing Rita. “It makes me feel odd, kind of like I’m sick with fear. I’ve got goosebumps. Look,” I pull up my sleeve to show her my arm.

  “Yeah, I’m getting that too. Maybe not as strongly as you are though,” Rita replies. “But I can’t just let it go. I need to get rid of it properly, and until I figure out how to do that we’ve got to keep it in the jar.”

  “How about I lock it in the shed out the back?” Finn suggests, nodding to the little wooden building at the end of the garden. “I’ve got a big padlock that I can put on the door to make sure nobody gets inside.”

  I jump on Finn’s suggestion, whole-heartedly agreeing. “Yes, we should do that. Do it now.” My eyes lock on the mist, swirling violently inside the jar as though taunting me, as though struggling to break out. Perhaps even urging me to open the lid. Yeah, fat chance of that happening any time soon.

  “We can do that later. I want to show it to Ethan first,” says Delilah.

  I glance up at the clock. “But it’s only two. Ethan won’t be up for hours. I can’t sit in the house for that long with it here. I’m seriously repelled by it; it’s making my skin crawl.”

  “Amanda’s upstairs packing the last of her things. She’s moving home today. Why don’t you go help her? It’ll get you out of the house for a couple hours and will give me the time to study this thing – whatever it is, in more detail,” Rita suggests.

  “Oh, I completely forgot she was going home today. Yeah, okay I’ll do that.”

  My voice comes out all skittish and I hurry upstairs to Amanda. I help her with her bags and we get a taxi to her old apartment. For some reason Ira follows me out the front door, silently insisting on coming with us. I kind of like having him follow me around, like the man version of the dog who for a while was my loyal companion. Maybe he’s finding it difficult to break the habit.

  “He is H.O.T – hot,” says Amanda to me on the drive, taking in Ira’s well-built masculine form.

  I laugh. “He’s mute Mandy, not deaf.”

  “Oh,” she answers, her cheeks going a little red as she glances sheepishly back at Ira. I could be mistaken, but I think I see the edge of his mouth tilt up slightly in an almost-grin. Huh. So he is paying attention. Half of the time it feels like he’s in his own little world.

  We don’t get back to Finn’s house until around seven, since I decided to stay and hang out with Amanda at her place for a couple hours. Ira goes around the back of the house to the garden. He sometimes likes to sit out there by himself to meditate, so I leave him to it.

  When I walk in the front door I’m immediately hit with two distinct sensations. The first is the repulsion from the mist in th
e jar, and the second is an altogether new one. I can feel Ethan’s presence so powerfully; it comes completely out of nowhere. My entire body fills with unmistakable and violent lust for him. Jesus H. Christ. This is definitely not normal. I steel myself and try not to give in to it.

  I walk into the kitchen where Ethan, Lucas, Finn, Rita and Delilah are standing around the table, all staring intently at the mist. I swallow hard as my legs turn to jelly and my self-control comes to the brink of shattering.

  I want to run my hands all over Ethan’s body, lick him from top to bottom. This so isn’t me - well, not entirely. It’s like someone else’s urges are burrowing inside my skin. Someone who’s really fucking horny.

  “Are you any closer to figuring out how to get rid of it?” I ask Rita, stepping up near to Ethan against my own instincts to stand as far away from his hostile self as possible. My body has a mind of its own right now.

  “Nope,” she replies, looking kind of embarrassed. “I’ve tried a whole variety of spells and nothing seems to be working. I think I need to hit the books and see what I can dig up. Gabriel, Alvie and Mum have gone to visit an old warlock friend of Gabriel’s who lives on the other side of the country. Gabriel’s certain this guy will be able to help us, but since they’re driving they won’t be back for a day or two.”

  “Oh. Did Gabriel and Alvie find anything at Michael Ridley’s place?”

  “Unfortunately no,” Rita shakes her head and sighs dejectedly.

  I brush my arm off Ethan’s, unable to tamper down the lust. I’m actually frightening myself with how much I desire him. He gives me a quizzical look out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything. Rita begins explaining something about one of the spells she tried earlier, but I can’t bring myself to pay her any attention. I want Ethan. I need him.

  Making sure nobody else in the room is watching, I go up on my tippy toes, lean in close and rest my face in the crook of his neck. Then I flick out my tongue and lick his smooth skin. His body goes rigid and he grips my arm tightly.

  “What do you think you are you doing?” he asks harshly, closing his eyes for a moment as though gathering himself. Hmm, I like that I’m affecting him.

  “Let’s go to my room,” I whisper.

  “Have you been drinking?” he asks, his eyes taking me in, trying to figure why I’m acting so lusty.

  “No,” I say, my voice all low and seductive. “You look good. Come on, let’s go somewhere private.” I lean in even closer and wrap my fingers around his bicep. “I’ve missed you.” I give him a long, meaningful look to communicate exactly in what way I’ve missed him.

  All of a sudden he’s dragging me out of the kitchen and shoving me into the empty living room. The others are too distracted by whatever Rita is saying to notice us. Ethan pushes me away from him and studies me from top to toe.

  I try to get close to him again, but he puts his hand out, warding me off. “Don’t touch me. There’s something not right here.”

  He rubs his hand over his forehead, and even though he looks impeccable there’s something about his demeanour that tells me he’s tired. I didn’t think it was possible for vampires to get tired; they just seem so impenetrable.

  For a moment my concern for him overrides the strange lust. He may not be treating me very nicely these days, but I still care for him. I’m not the kind of person who can sleep with someone, even if it was only once, and not feel a certain level of affection for them.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  His steely blue eyes pierce me. “Do you understand how difficult it is for me to be around you after what you did? Because of you I have lost my home, my status, my livelihood. These things that I have spent years building were all taken from me. I was outlawed by my people because I let some pretty little piece of skirt fool me.”

  I frown. “I’m not a piece of skirt and I wasn’t trying to fool you. I was just trying to do the right thing.”

  Even to me my explanation sounds hollow. There’s just no right or wrong in this situation. All this time I’ve been justifying my actions, telling myself that I did good by saving Rebecca, because let’s face it, it had been the moral thing to do. But on the other side of the coin, I hadn’t really been thinking about what Ethan had lost because of me. I always just saw him as this ancient, wealthy vampire who wouldn’t really care about losing a house or a stupid night club, or the respect of his people. How fucking clueless could I be?

  “How long had you been living in that house?” I ask in a quiet voice.

  Ethan’s eyes, which had been trained on the mantelpiece, come back to me. “Almost sixty years.”

  Jesus. That’s practically a whole lifetime for a human.

  “I’m sorry,” I let my eyes drop to the floor.

  “You are young. You haven’t yet had the need to call a place home, really call it home. When you are my age, having a place that’s yours can be one of the few things that keep you sane.” His face that for a second went soft, now hardens. “I don’t have that anymore thanks to you. And now you come sauntering up to me, thinking that a little seduction will convince me to forgive you. That’s a low move, Tegan.”

  “That’s not what I’d been doing. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but my body wants you. Is it maybe because I drank your blood yesterday?”

  “No. The sexual attraction wouldn’t come into it at this point, you’d only be feeling a craving for more blood. But after only one feeding that wouldn’t happen. The addiction needs to build over time.”

  He steps up close to me and lets his fingertips linger over my pulse, which is pounding in my neck. “God I can smell your need for me so strongly. What is this?” he ponders, eyes roaming my body.

  I turn my head so that my lips graze his jaw. He lets out what sounds like a Romanian curse word.

  “You are such a fucking temptation,” he tells me, his tone strained.

  His low voice makes the lust that I had managed to tamper down over the last few minutes come surging back to life. “You can have me, all of me,” I tell him.

  The second I’m finished saying the words, Ethan’s mouth comes crashing down on mine. He shoves the hem of my dress up and runs his hands along both of my inner thighs. I let out a long moan and grab one of his hands, urging it towards my centre where I need his touch the most.

  He growls against my mouth, his tongue sliding along mine and his fangs scraping over my bottom lip. I’m in such danger of being nicked by one of them, but I’m too turned on to care. All of a sudden I’m sweating, like I’ve gone into a frenzy. I push Ethan down onto the couch, before jumping on top of him. His hand has found its way inside my underwear and his fingers plunge inside of me.

  “Fuck,” he swears, and then lifts me up before throwing me down onto the couch so that I’m beneath him. He begins rambling in Romanian as he trails kisses down my throat and scrapes his fangs against my sensitive skin. I have to admit, it’s one of my favourite “Ethan moves”. It wedges me on the cusp of danger and sets my every pore tingling. He coaxes me to a fast release with his fingers. Unfortunately, I don’t quite get there.

  I scramble for his t-shirt to try and pull it over his head, but he grabs my wrists to prevent me. He stops what he’s doing and pulls back, his breath coming out thick and ragged.

  “I don’t want this,” he mutters and shakes his head. “This is not what I want.” It’s like he’s thinking out loud, trying to convince himself.

  “I want you,” I tell him.

  “No you don’t. Something is wrong with you. You’re not wild like this, you surrender sweetly.” He runs a finger down the centre of my chest. “Look at this,” he says, holding it up for me to see. “You’re sweating too much and you don’t smell right. You smell like you’ve been corrupted.”

  I get a fright when I take stock of myself and realise that he’s right, I’m positively dripping with sweat. My heart thumps hot and heavy in my chest. It feels like it’s trying to burn its way out of my flesh. I pu
sh down my dress and straighten up, but my body still wants Ethan. It takes so much energy not to jump on him again. I begin to shake as I try to keep my resistance in place.

  The door to the living room opens and Rita and Finn step in casually, mid-chat. “Right so we’ve decided we’re going to lock the jar up in the shed for now,” Rita announces, just before her eyes rest on me and Ethan. “Um, is everything okay in here?” she asks.

  “No, everything is not okay. There’s something wrong with her. She’s being overly – amorous,” Ethan replies, seeming exasperated, which is so out of character for him.

  Rita lets out a raucous laugh, but she quickly stifles it when Ethan cuts her a cold look. Finn comes right up to me and places his hand on my forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”

  “I know. I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” I say, still shaking, my voice desperate. When I look at Ethan he seems to dislike the fact that Finn has his hand on me. The foreign thing that’s taking over my body enjoys his jealousy.

  Rita kneels down in front of me by the couch. “How do you feel? Different from normal? Or are you just uh, in the mood for a little..” she trails off and waggles her eyebrows in Ethan’s direction.

  “No!” I exclaim. “It’s not like I want this. Ethan clearly can’t stand me and I don’t throw myself at people who hate me.” I think I see him flinch ever so slightly at my words. “I feel like I’m being taken over by something that isn’t me at all. Like some kind of foreign lust has burrowed its way into my body and all it wants is him.” I throw my hand in Ethan’s direction.

  Rita puts both of her palms on either side of my head and closes her eyes. She opens them a moment later and seems to be having a hard time keeping her amusement to herself.

  “It looks like someone’s given you a lust potion, one that’s directly intended for you to want Ethan. Did you eat or drink anything weird today?”