Cantrips: Volume #2: Minor Magics Crafted to Amuse and Entertain

by Joey W. Hill

  Lucifer squatted before her, reaching out to touch the tiny forehead. His son grasped his much larger finger. Lucifer's smile took speech from her, everything stilling so she thought the universe itself spun on the tip of this moment. Grace could feel the Goddess looking through her eyes, the Lady as entranced by his expression as Grace herself. It made Grace want to laugh with quiet joy, something she hadn't done in so very long. To imagine the Goddess with weak knees because of her Lord's smile...

  The opaque eyes of the Lord of the Underworld lifted to her, his expression warm, responding to his Lady's adulation. "I will give you one more memory to come," he said. "Because the trinity is the most powerful number there is, bringing balance. And because you asked."

  She saw her son coming through a metal doorway that parted before him as if by magic. It led into a room comfortably furnished with things that had familiar shapes--chair, table--but unfamiliar fabrics, colors and trappings around them. But she already knew getting caught up in those things would waste the true value of what the Lord was showing her. Her son stripped his coat and the sheathed blade, as well as an impressive array of hidden weapons. After doing that, he moved forward, that room disappearing and giving way to one with mirrored walls, where rose petals were scattered on the floor. The mirrors flickered with the light from a trio of candles placed on a single pedestal in the center of the room.

  A sable-haired woman with blue-green eyes was there. She wore a corset, an item Grace recognized, the material an elegant brocade, but it was laced over shockingly snug pants in a slick material and thigh-high boots that were scandalous, but which Grace eyed with female envy after examining the way the outfit complimented her figure. But she didn't dwell on those oddities, either, moving instead to the look in her son's eyes.

  He loved this female. Loved her with everything he was. He would die for her, live for her, do anything for her, bear any pain. She recognized it like a mirror in her own heart, the way she felt for Agnes, the way she already felt for her unborn son.

  He drew the woman close with one arm. The way he dipped his head down to capture her lips stirred Grace--how could it not? He would have his father's sensual powers as well, Goddess help the female who tried to resist him. But from the slight curve on this woman's mouth, the light in her eyes, she understood the power his love gave her over him, too. But she cherished it and would use that power only to their mutual benefit. She wouldn't be pushed around, though. Grace approved of that, because that was important to love, too. How many fights had she and Agnes had over the years?

  His kiss had taken total, demanding possession of the woman. That feeling of ownership was something a vampire understood. His fangs bared and he scored her throat as her fingers tightened on his arms. Seeing the female's fangs, Grace realized his love would be another vampire.

  Then Grace stiffened. She almost called out in warning--futilely--as another male appeared at his back. But, thinking of the first memory Lucifer had showed her of her son, she realized he would never allow anyone to come up behind him that he didn't trust entirely.

  This one was a warrior as well, only thicker, more muscular. Human. A fully marked servant. He was theirs, her son's and his lover's. What she'd initially interpreted as a threat, the man's dangerous restlessness and wounded soul, became something different when his midnight blue eyes rested on the two vampires. All that violence and energy morphed into a protective watchfulness, an absorption in their irresistible energy, and a sense of belonging.

  Yes, the male was their human servant, but far more than that. When her son lifted his head, he reached over and captured the man's nape to draw him close. As he took just as demanding a kiss from his mouth, she knew her son would have more than one soulmate. He would have...two.

  The mists closed around them, leaving her floating slowly back toward the present. The reality of it hit her once more, exultation and terror. She was going to have a child. She shuddered with joy and anticipation. She saw a brief flash of all of it, birth and infancy, him growing into a boy, learning, smiling at her, becoming more serious as the years went on, as his skills were called to the aid of others. He would serve their kind and serve the angels as well. And she would be his mother.

  She opened her eyes, finding herself stretched out on the warm earth by the bonfire. Lucifer was above her once more, his body pressing insistently between her legs. The fire in his gaze saw her, and more than her. He saw Her. They were not yet done using her body as a conduit for their need for One Another.

  More than willing to be that intermediary, Grace lifted her arms to him again. The strength of the Goddess flowed through her, to Him, giving Him love and passion as well. He would exhaust her, deplete her, but leave her with a fullness that would carry her through life, that would help her give life to her son, and to the village again. She was empty and full at once, the proper receptacle for bringing together the Lord and Lady's energy--the renewal that would offer them all hope once more.

  Agnes had been right. Ritual was vital. No matter how dark the corners of the universe, or how long and deep the reach of those shadows, this restored light. It might only be a flicker in the darkness, but it would fuel strength of purpose, and life and love would continue.

  That was the gift the Lord and Lady brought, the gift embedded in every soul.

  * * *

  She was alone. Smelling smoke, she opened her eyes to see the fire still crackling, though it no longer leaped high above the cairn. It had diminished in the way a fire would as the wood fuel was consumed. She was wrapped in warm animal skins, soft pelts that still vibrated with the life that had inhabited them, an echo that told her their spirits were safe and at peace somewhere beyond this world. It told her who'd left the gift of them. She sat up, clutching them around her. After the Lord's arduous demands--his desire for His Lady seemed to know no satiation point--she should have been unable to rise, let alone feel strength flowing through her as she did.

  Her palm spread over her bare abdomen. A child. Perhaps it was his strength she felt flowing through her now, because she didn't feel weak or depleted at all. She felt...alive and wondrous. She could run, spin and dance through the forest. It was not yet dawn, but when dawn came, she bet the sun would sparkle off the snow, reflecting her mood. She wouldn't be able to see it, but Agnes would. She must.

  Agnes. Reality returned with a stab of panic and she scrambled in her mind to follow that connection, to make sure the life she'd been given had not been an exchange for another, equally as precious to her.

  "I'm here."

  Grace blinked. Was it a vision? Was she still caught in an alternative reality? Agnes stood on the opposite side of the fire. No boils on her throat, her silver-streaked brown hair down and loose, flowing over her arms. She wore her peasant blouse, long skirt and a cloak over it. She'd washed herself, for Grace smelled her fragrant soap on her. All of that might have convinced Grace it wasn't real, but Agnes showed key signs of their present reality. Her clothes were too loose, her face thin, eyes carrying the shadows of grief and loss. Yet there were other things in her gaze. Hope, pride...and something else as she stared at Grace. Need. It sharpened all of Grace's senses and pierced her with the same craving.

  Agnes was alive. And she was going to be well again. The Lord and Lady had given them that gift. It surged through Grace, what all of it meant, and it came to one thing. She wanted Agnes, now. She had a need that would consume her servant. The power of it froze her vocal cords, then she found the one thing Agnes said a vampire always had within easy reach. Arrogance. While the thought amused Grace, she wasn’t going to deny it.

  "I did as you asked," Grace said, a deliberate edge to her tone. "Now you will do as I demand, won't you, moppet?"

  Pure pleasure surged through her at the little shiver that went through Agnes. "Yes," she whispered.

  "Take off your clothes. All of them. And stand in place until I look my fill."

  The fire was still warm, so Grace knew she wasn't causing A
gnes too much discomfort. But as Agnes shed the clothes, easy enough since she wore no garments beneath them, her skin acquired gooseflesh from the touch of the wind, her nipples tightening. Agnes was thin, but her body would become ripe again, and Grace would immerse herself in every luscious curve. She wasn't going to wait on that, however. She looked at the stretch marks Agnes had from bearing Peter, the lower set of her breasts that time and his nourishment as an infant had caused. All of it made her want Agnes even more. She would have thought so anyway, but the coven had taught Grace that all faces of the Goddess were beautiful. Maiden, Mother, Crone. Women carried all three faces in their heart and soul, at every age.

  You were wrong, Grace. Agnes's gaze held hers. It was you holding me to life. I didn't want to admit it. I was afraid that it was dishonoring Dan's memory. But when I was in your mind, and felt hope return to all of us, thanks to you and the Lord and Lady, all I could think about was this. When I could become yours fully, and we could be what we wish to one another. I knew you would help heal my heart, help me understand it isn't wrong to love someone the way I want to love you. "I couldn't wait," Agnes said aloud, her voice breaking. "They gave me back my strength, healed my body, and I couldn't wait another moment to be with you." My friend, my love. My heart.

  "My beauty," Grace murmured. She let Agnes feel and see the strong, clean desire that her words provoked. "I will eat you alive if you keep talking like that."

  "Promise?" Agnes offered a tremulous smile.

  Grace pressed her lips together, her heart wrenching at how close she'd come to losing this female. She reached out a hand. "Come here. Right now."

  Agnes moved around the fire. Though her servant was still weak, Grace saw her movements had a priestess's confidence once more. Her hair fluttered over her back, her pale flesh as milky white as the snow on the edges of the circle. When she reached her, Grace gripped her fingers. Agnes let out a little gasp as Grace yanked her beneath the skins and put her on her back so she was stretched out fully on Agnes. No hesitation, no indecision any more. If Agnes hadn't realized Grace was just as naked as herself, she did now, with Grace's body between her spread legs, mons pressed against mons, breasts rubbing with pleasing friction over nipples and curves. Grace wound her arms around her to hold her close and take her mouth in the kiss she'd been wanting for months.

  "Grace... Gracie..." Agnes sighed with the pleasure of it, and Grace scored her gently with a fang, moving down to tease her throat. Agnes's fingers dug into her shoulders, and Grace descended under the furs. First, I will feast on your cunt the way I've always wanted to do, the way I've dreamed about. And you will cry out your pleasure so the Lord and Lady can hear it...

  She should be taking her time, but she couldn't. Not right now. The first taste was incomparable. She covered Agnes's labia with the heat of her mouth and plunged her tongue in between, curling to collect the cream already gathered there. When she shifted to suck on the swelling clit and its protective hood, she was so hungry she wasn't gentle about it, pulling and nipping, licking and sucking as Agnes's body rolled and lifted, as cries broke from her lips. "Ah, Goddess..."

  "Beg for mercy and you shall have none, moppet. I've waited too long." Agnes's body was weak, but her spirit was strong and vibrant, and craved Grace's demands in a way a vampire couldn't resist. Grace flipped her over onto her stomach. Agnes's fingers dug into the furs as Grace rubbed her breasts over the seam of her buttocks, then slid several fingers inside her pussy. As her thumb found Agnes's clit once more to stroke and tease, she bent and sank her fangs into Agnes's backside. Agnes moaned again.

  Grace worked her up to a climax in seconds. Agnes's body was starved for the attention, for the need for life and renewal. That yearning bound Grace's heart to her all the more, but she wasn't yet ready to let her go over. It could be that sadistic side to a vampire's nature, wanting to deny and prolong the pleasure, making it an intense, screaming agony. Or it could be merely that, this first time, Grace needed it to be face to face, no ghosts between them. She turned Agnes over once more and lay back upon her. She began to rotate her hips, creating friction clit to clit. Agnes's legs trembled in their spread position.

  "Wider, moppet. Spread wide for me." Grace stared down in her face, implacable, needing to see her come apart before she could do the same. Agnes's mouth stretched out in that pre-climax rictus, her hands back on Grace, short nails digging into her.

  "Come for me. Go over. Now."

  Agnes shuddered, something inside shattering, wrenching a scream from her throat. Tears fountained from her eyes in the middle of the release, and Grace felt the pain overflow with the pleasure, the grief and the need together. She found she could not take without giving. Not from this woman. Curling her arms around Agnes, sheltering her, keeping her from breaking apart, she came down upon her and held her so close their hearts thundered together. Since the position changed the meshing of their bodies, she freed one hand to stroke Agnes to completion.

  Agnes hooked her arms over her shoulders, burying her face in Grace's throat, and cried and cried, even as she rocked through the climax that kept pounding through her. Grace was crying as well, pressing those tears into Agnes's hair. Love was here. It had saved them, but the cost of life was so harsh that, without love, it would have been unbearable. It was nigh unbearable sometimes, regardless.

  "Sssshh..." She held her as Agnes's orgasm left her with tiny little twitches against Grace's still aroused body. Agnes felt it, lifting her hips against her.

  "Let me...I want to hear you release...as well. The way you've wanted to do it. With me...as yours."

  Grace drew back, meeting her gaze. Agnes wet her lips, her eyes alive. "I feel it in you, the dark, powerful things you want. And I need a taste of that..."

  "You're not at full strength, dearest."

  "It doesn't matter. You're my strength. I need to be your vessel now, Grace. I'm so empty." Agnes's lip trembled, but then it firmed and she met Grace's gaze, her mouth quirking in a tender half-smile. "If I can't walk afterward, though, you might have to carry me home."

  "I'll carry you wherever you need." Grace studied her face. "I will give you strength, Agnes. Then you can take whatever I dish out, all the things I want to do to you."

  That smile became something more feminine and aware, and Agnes's fingers curled into Grace's bare hip. "I will take anything you wish to give me and thank you for it."

  Images flashed from Agnes's mind to Grace's, and Grace had all she could do to bite back a growl. All those times she'd pleasured herself, she'd imagined the things she wanted to do to Agnes were things the witch couldn't even contemplate. She'd been wrong. Agnes might not be as sexually experienced, but the body knew what it craved, and had conjured those images in Agnes's mind. Grace wondered how she'd kept them hidden so deeply from Grace she hadn't even suspected. Well, that was about to end. After the third mark was given, Agnes would never be able to hide a thought or feeling from her again. A soul binding, that was what the third mark was. It opened the servant up beyond the mind, letting the vampire into the heart and down deep into the very depths of the soul.

  The expression on Agnes's face said she wanted that soul-deep binding. Which decided Grace on their top priority.

  Staying on top of her, keeping Agnes’s body beneath her own aroused one, Grace bit her own wrist and put it to Agnes's mouth. "We start with this. Take a few swallows, moppet. And then I'm going to mark you."

  Agnes put her lips over the wound and drank, keeping her eyes on Grace's. Grace could feel her worries, her fears, but also her overwhelming need for it to happen. She didn't want her afraid or worried.

  Drawing her wrist away, she sealed the wound and shifted further up Agnes's body. She curved her fingers around Agnes's throat, pinning her to the ground as she straddled her, positioning herself where she could do light, circular passes over Agnes's still spasming clit. Agnes bit back a moan. Her nipples were tight points and Grace imagined an evening of doing nothing but tying Agnes's arms
behind her in her rocking chair and suckling them until she came from that stimulation, over and over. Grace remembered that period during Agnes's pregnancy when her whole body had been sensitive and aroused constantly. When Dan came back from a day out in the fields, he'd found a wife who barely waited until he was through the door to draw him to their bed, even before giving him his dinner. He hadn't complained.

  Would Grace be like that during her own pregnancy?

  Agnes's eyes widened, and her fingers spasmed. "Grace."

  She'd left her mind open to Agnes. And Agnes, while privy to much of what had happened in this clearing, had missed that significant moment. They would celebrate that together, but not right now. She shook her head, giving Agnes a brusque order. "Later. Right now, you stay quiet. Not a single sound." Her lips curved mercilessly as she started to grind down a little harder on those rotations, then lighter. Agnes had just come, and Grace ached for a release of her own, but she wanted her girl to go with her at the same time.

  Agnes's face shone with joy at the news despite Grace's command. Yet as Grace continued to move upon her, Agnes's eyes widened again for different reasons. That slow build brought a surge of desire back through her, growing as Grace let herself draw closer to pinnacle. Her hold on Agnes's throat captivated her, not just physically. Feeling Agnes respond to that collaring touch, that sense of ownership, only heightened Grace's own burning need. "Stay absolutely still," she said hoarsely. "I want you to feel the climax tear through you this time."

  Agnes obeyed, quivering harder and harder, biting down on her own lip to the point of drawing blood, just to obey Grace's demand not to move or speak. She would soothe that with her own mouth and tongue. Later. Agnes's self-imposed restraint resulted in an arousal that grew in her mind and body until it overflowed and filled Grace's mind and body as well, joining the turbulent storm that was already there.