Dominique's Release: A Captive Souls story

by Kimberly Kaye Terry

  Dominique nodded, urging him to continue.

  “When he bound us, there were other minor creatures bound in the house as well, anything within the mansion was caught up along with us. Once bound, between the three of us, we were/are a beacon. Besides the lesser creatures bound to us, over the years other creatures came often, drawn to the collective power they felt.”

  “Like the ones Jean-Paul is writing about?” she asked, still unable to call him “Father”. Bacclum nodded.

  “Yes, these are the creatures he felt living in the mansion. None were able to tap into the energy source, none could even do anything to us, they were of no consequence, lesser beings at any rate. Just like the ones trapped with us,” he said with such backhanded arrogance Dominique didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or pop him on the chest.

  “But they created a doorway, for lack of a better term. It was enough. Jean-Paul was weak, but because of his dealings with the Vaudou priest and his connection to you and your sisters was more receptive to magic than the average human. I tried to use that to my advantage.”

  “How so?”

  “The doorway they created, coupled with Jean-Paul being different, was enough for me to connect with him, although in a slim way. However, it wasn’t enough for me to break through. I was unable to do that, until you. It is how I knew you held the key to my freedom.” An uncomfortable feeling swept over Dominique as she thought of the way he had planned to gain his freedom by draining her of her magic.

  “Humph!” was her only reply and she swiftly returned to her reading of Jean-Paul’s journal.

  Eventually, she placed the journal down on the bed and let out a long sigh. “That’s all I can take for now. As far as puzzle pieces go, trying to figure out who I am from his journal isn’t doing a damn bit of good,” she said and allowed Bacclum to pull her close. Together they lay, their bodies cuddled as she contemplated the latest turn of events.

  “It will, Dominique,” he assured her, running his hand over her hair, pulling her down so she lay in front of him, his big arms crossing in front of her, in a strangely protective way.

  The emotional upset coupled with their lovemaking soon lulled Dominique into a relaxed state, and within moments she felt her eyes drift closed. She’d figure out the confusing tangle of her life later. Right now, the only thing she wanted to do was rest.

  Before sleep overtook her, she thought she saw a shadow run across the wall. Fleeting, she would have put it down to the moonlight playing along the wall, except that the shadow reminded her of the image Jean-Paul described in the journal, of one of the creatures.

  Refusing to allow Jean-Paul’s mad ranting of creatures that go bump in the night to affect her, Dominique shut her eyes and allowed sleep to overtake her, feeling safe, for the first time in a long time, in Bacclum’s embrace.

  Dominique awoke hours later and found Bacclum gone, so she turned on the bedside light and picked up her father’s journal, biting down hard on her bottom lip.

  She flipped the pages until she reached the part she’d ended on, and continued to read.

  Her father eschewed the Vaudou priest’s curse, indeed laughed at the old man and his promise that Jean-Paul would fail in life, in everything he touched, and lose his money, his power, and eventually his mind. And, like the priest said, he lost it all.

  He’d lost his money, his land, all of his wealth and found nothing but failure in everything he touched. His Midas touch had turned to shit, and nothing seemed to stop the tide of failure for Jean-Paul.

  Dominique saw his madness escalate with each failure.

  There is rumor of a coven of witches, powerful women. I would have never thought this kind of shit possible, this whole paranormal shit, but, I know now. There is something to it. I have met with one of these witches. She is young, stupid and vulnerable. I need an heir. That is the only way to end this curse. I will father a child with one of their most powerful witches. She is named Agate. Although she is powerful, she is young, foolish, and has agreed to meet with me. She will lift this curse!

  It was painful for Dominique to read how this man…her father, she shook her head in disgust…her father, had set out to seduce her mother, as well as the other two women.

  Quite calculatingly he wrote in the journal of how he made love to her mother nightly, lied to her, told her he loved her and as soon as Dominique had been born, he’d left, recoiling in horror, according to his own words, when he’d seen her elliptical eye.

  “Momma…you’ve hidden so much from me,” Dominique murmured. Yet, she wondered if she, had she been in her mother’s shoes, would have been able to admit something that must have been extremely painful, feeling foolish for falling for the charms of one so evil.

  From there Jean-Paul went to Norway, repeating his actions. As soon as the child was born, he’d again run. The last place he’d landed, he hadn’t even bothered to wait to see what the child would look like before he’d run away, again, afraid.

  In disgust Dominique slammed the journal shut, angrily brushing burning tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  There was no point in reading further. Her mother was right.

  A hand covered hers and she looked up to see Bacclum had silently come to her, hunched down, the warmth from his body reaching out to embrace her.

  “Continue to read, Dominique. A part of the answer is there. Like a puzzle, every piece counts,” he encouraged, his deep voice lowered as though sharing a secret with her.

  “I can’t, Bacclum,” she whispered before clearing her throat from the tears she refused to shed.

  “You can,” he insisted. Although his deep voice didn’t rise, there was such conviction in his tone that her eyes flew to meet his.

  “You are stronger than you think.” He gentled his voice even more, bringing her closer, taking her into his arms.

  Dominique allowed his warmth to seep into her own body, to calm her, steady her emotions.

  He placed two fingers beneath her chin, brought her face to meet his and lowered his mouth. The kiss was unexpectedly gentle, more of a brushing of his lips against hers. His tongue struck out and licked the lower rim of her lip, before pulling her on top of him, her body straddling his.

  In one long, sure stroke, he plunged deep inside her.

  Their mingled cry of relief was short lived. She covered his mouth with hers and for the first time, initiated their kiss. She thrust her tongue deep inside his mouth, opening her mouth wide as their tongues battled in a hot tangle of need and wild lust.

  Grasping her by the hips, he slowly thrust into her, yet allowed her to set the pace. She rode him with abandon. “Yes,” she breathed, her nostrils flaring.

  Feeling a heady sense of power, Dominique stared down at the beautiful demi-angel she straddled, raising her body up, until the tip of his shaft nearly slipped out of her before just as slowly she rolled her hips until she took all of him back inside her tight, clenching walls.

  He allowed her slow rolls of hips and painfully pleasurable strokes as long as he could before he could take no more.

  “Enough.”

  Bacclum sat up and took over, the two of them facing each other as their pleasure spiraled, each striving to get as much out of the erotic exchange as possible.

  Through the fringes of her lashes her gaze traveled over the hard curve of his chiseled chin, his mouth, and up, until she met his hot, lust-filled, intense gaze.

  Dominique threw her head back, her head lolling to the side when he pressed his hot, thick cock further inside her body. The pressure was building, mounting within her, so much so that she felt as though every nerve ending in her body was alive.

  Although the room was dark, a rainbow of color flashed in front of her wide eyes. As he plunged inside of her, she placed her hand over the amulet. As soon as she did, again, she felt something alive inside her, her skin grew itchy, and a hot ball of fire formed in her gut.

  She cried out and tried to break free.

&n
bsp; “No!” Bacclum grunted out the short response, and shook her, refusing to allow her to let go. She grimaced yet held on, trusting him on an instinctual level.

  His face was contorted, sweat poured from his face, his body, mingling with hers. “Stay with me this time, Dominique,” he demanded. He stared into her face, and she was unable to look away. He placed his hand over hers, covering her hand and the amulet, and immediately both of them were hurled into another space.

  “You have to push past the barrier,” he bellowed, yet she was barely able to hear his voice over the whirling sound of the wind swirling around their bodies. “I can’t do it without you!”

  Bacclum forced the last words from his mouth. He knew that this was it. Without her he could never gain true freedom, without him, neither could she. They needed each other in ways he still did not fully comprehend. He only knew that without each other, neither one of them would ever gain the release they needed, they would never be free.

  His arousal was growing, his body on fire in a painful need that went beyond the physical. Yet he knew he had to hold out until the time was right. She writhed beneath him, her body as hot to the touch as his, the amulet they both held heating as they ground against one another.

  Her back arched away, a low keening cry breaking forth while her slim, sweet curves molded against his body so hotly he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.

  “Please, Bacclum—” her breath came out in shallow gasps, her chest heaving, “—I can’t…I can’t. I need—”

  With one hand covering hers and the amulet, he slipped the other around her lean hips, pulling her body roughly against his. He ground against her mound in controlled motions, the knob of his cock rubbing hotly against the seam of her pussy, bumping her clit.

  Unaware of anything, save the exquisite feel of each other, both Dominique and Bacclum unaware of anything else but each other. A small white, glowing ball grew between them, nearly blinding in intensity.

  It grew and enveloped them within its bright light. At the point of their climax it burned brightest and burst, showering crystal-like rain upon them, sparking an answering release within each of them.

  Bacclum reared away from her, his semen flooding her body in torrents, a roar releasing from his throat as he clutched Dominique, drew her deeper, and together they broke him completely free from the enchantment.

  Chapter Ten

  Insidious whispers brought Dominique to awareness. One moment she was asleep, nestled in Bacclum’s arms, the next she was fully awake, body jackknifing from the bed as the guttural whispers woke her.

  She turned, frantic, looking for Bacclum. Without having to look, she knew he was no longer with her. Used to his nocturnal wanderings over the course of the last few days they’d been together, Dominique wasn’t alarmed. But, the whisperings that awoke her grew stronger, until they were deafening.

  She placed her hands over her ears in an attempt to drown out the sound, but it only increased until she jumped from the bed and tumbled, trying to reach the door. Before she could reach the door it slammed shut, the whisperings growing stronger, crying out to her, asking for her to release them.

  The cries grew until they reached a wailing crescendo and Dominique balled up in a small knot on the floor, her eyes shut. She reached for the amulet around her neck before she realized she hadn’t replaced it after she and Bacclum had made love.

  The whispering grew malevolent, demanding that she release them, beating down on her like a thousand fists; she felt them pound into her spirit until she nearly lost consciousness.

  “Dominique! You must fight them. There are too many of them, it will take too long for me to break the barrier they’ve erected, I do not have my full strength! You have to fight them. You have the strength. But, you’ve got to release it, all of it.” Bacclum’s frantic demand roared inside her head, competing with the growing clamoring of the voices banging at her.

  She shook her head in denial. “I can’t fight them all, Bacclum! There are too many of them!” She cried out in pain when another shadow slammed into her.

  “Get up!” The demand was clipped, brooking no argument. “You can do this. Get. UP. Fight, damn it!”

  His words encouraged her; his unfailing belief in her encouraged her more. She felt more than his words inside of her. She felt him. A surge of power flooded her own failing spirit as he added his considerable strength to hers.

  Gritting her teeth together in determination, she rose from the floor and faced the ominous shadows. Dominique felt the shift within her own spirit. and rose. She threw off the shackles of fear, like the useless albatross it had been, choking her for her entire life.

  The creatures appeared in front of her, side by side, like deathly soldiers, their shadowy figures taking on a more substantial form as they stood in front of her, towering over her. Their eerily empty faces devoid of facial features, gaping holes where their eyes, noses, mouths should have been, gave them an even more hideous appearance.

  She knew what they wanted to do, felt their intent as they bore down on her.

  They wanted their freedom and had finally found a way. They intended to take over her body.

  When hell fucking froze and the devil wore high-heeled snow boots.

  She struck out at one and the other, scoring a direct hit with one of the creatures. She felt their collective surprise at her ability to strike their non-corporeal forms. Not giving them time to analyze her ability and adjust their attack accordingly, Dominique dropped low, one foot planted near her hip, the other arcing out in a wide circle to connect with two of the creatures, in the way of capoeira, a martial art form that she’d perfected, combining it with the power of her untapped magic, a power she finally, gloriously, allowed free rein.

  Dominique fought and attacked the creatures with wild abandon, fighting them on the physical plane, yet her battle transcended the physical; the physical was simply a manifestation of the true battle.

  She chanted incantations, ancient words welling up from deep within, , words she knew came from Bacclum, as she—they—fought the demons. She uttered spells she had never dared say aloud, spells that before she even gave utterance to them wound their way through her very core, binding to her essence, her magic, before releasing from her mouth. Yet even as she fought the demons, she knew she was battling a greater demon, the one of her bound spirit.

  She was battling for her life, to finally take back what had been hers, all along. A battle she had to win.

  She no longer analyzed the situation, no longer tried to understand the how and whys of who and what the creatures were, what they wanted from her, nor allowed fear to rule her. She simply kicked their asses. Systematically. One by one.

  Her chanting become stronger, more determined as she put a beat-down on them to rival any WWE champ until she heard the last ghostly cry die out, bellowing in impotent rage as she sent the demons back to the realm they belonged.

  It was long moments before she realized the remaining cries came from her. When it was all over, Dominique fell into a heap on the floor.

  Dominique cried until she grew hoarse, until every part of her body ached with the strength of her release, and until she could cry no more.

  All the anger, disappointment, fear…she released all of it in one long cathartic wail, the sounds of her cries bouncing off the walls, echoing throughout the room. When large, gentle hands lifted her and cradled her in even stronger arms, she allowed her head to fall to Bacclum’s chest, limp with exhaustion.

  He carried her to the bed and laid her in the center before coming down to cover her body with his own, pulling her face into his chest and running shaky hands over her soft curls.

  “It’s over, baby,” he said, crooning soothing, nonsensical words against her temple. “It’s over.”

  Dominique stayed in his embrace, soaking up his comfort until finally, she moved away. Sniffing, she stared up into his face. With a tender look, at odds with the normal hard set to his features
, he thumbed away a final tear.

  She licked dry lips. “So,” she stopped, cleared her sore throat, and continued, “what does this mean? Are they gone? Will they return?”

  He breathed a deep sigh, pulling her even tighter against his body. “If they do, we’ll deal with it,” he finally replied.

  “We?” she questioned. Since she’d fully released him, she hadn’t known how long he’d stick around, but had been afraid to ask.

  “Yes, we. You can’t get rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me,” he said, one side of his lips hitching up into a smile as he gazed down at the woman who was becoming more important to him with every moment he spent with her, and who was even becoming more important than his quest for power in order to claim his heritage.

  He would never give up trying to find his parents, but, because of Dominique some of the pain of losing them no longer dominated his every waking moment. Never would he have thought that one woman could change his path, his very way of thinking in such a short time. So much so, he felt on shaky ground with the onslaught of emotions whenever he was with her.

  And when he thought he’d not get to her in time…

  “I do not want to think of life without you,” he finally replied, knowing even as he said the words, it wasn’t enough.

  Dominique smiled against his chest, feathering it with light kisses. Her dark angel was not the type of man to express himself to a woman with eloquent speeches or flowery words. But he would always be there to help protect her. He would always accept her for who she was. With him she didn’t ever have to hide who she was.

  “I promise you, Dominique, that I will always protect you. I will never again purposely hurt you and would give my own life to protect you,” he made the vow solemnly, after he released her lips. “It is my hope that you allow me to prove that to you.” The earnest look in his eyes, so much at odds with his normally stoic features, made her lips curve upward into a wide smile.