This Wicked Magic

by Michele Hauf

  “If this works,” he said, “and we come together, the demon should be expelled into the circle. We both jump out. Then you have to send it to Daemonia.”

  Yes. That was the part she knew wouldn’t work. Why? Because she’d never ousted a demon from this realm before, and she wasn’t confident she could without years of study. Her spell required something else, a more intimate connection that would seduce the demon and thus allow her control over it.

  CJ reached outside the circle and took a pull from the whiskey bottle. Vika touched his wet lips and tasted it on her fingers. He, in turn, dipped his fingers into the mortar of scented potion and then trailed his finger over her skin, riding the rise of her breast and moving up along her neck. He dashed his forefinger over her lips, opening her mouth and slicking his finger in along her tongue. She licked him, beginning the process of surrender to the sensual, the magical and opening themselves to one another.

  Hell, whom was she kidding? That process had started the moment he’d first kissed her, and she hadn’t come down from the wanting, sexual high since.

  “You’re my girl,” he whispered against her mouth. “Bright red light that shines upon my darkness. Never felt so right than with you, Viktorie. So right.”

  What they shared did feel right, even when it was so wrong.

  Beneath the eerily bright storm of suspended chandelier crystals, they knelt before each other and clasped hands. The Latin words they chanted had been scribed through the centuries. There were only a few, but that was all they needed. It was the intonation and the rhythm that defined the atmosphere and opened it to their combined magic.

  Arms raised and fingers entwined, they bowed their foreheads to one another. Certainly kissed her and whispered, “It sil heve.” It will happen.

  Dark and fervent, CJ groped her body roughly, moving his palms all over her skin. The electric hum of the tattoos on his hand ignited her nerve endings. The rhythm of their chant beat through her veins, setting a musical tone to their breaths, their desire, their intentions.

  On their knees before one another, she stroked his erection against her belly. Their bodies grew slick with perspiration and desire. Vika’s chants slowed as her mind dallied with riding the pleasure and concentration upon the task. She could master this spell and her lover at the same time. Stroking, squeezing and pulling his hardness produced an agonizingly wanting moan from CJ.

  He bent to suckle her breasts, the tug-lick-nip of his mouth to her skin coaxing her senses wide to receive. The heat of the surrounding candle flames danced through her pores. Attar of roses and rue scented their gasps, and Tunisian vanilla glided in the wake of seeking fingers and mouths.

  So close, she could feel her lover shuddering toward the edge, racing faster than she because, while her body sung in harmony to CJ’s melody, she had split her focus.

  She must not risk failure.

  And when his neck tightened and his biceps grew hard, he gasped and slammed his hips against hers. Vika reached for the remote, and as CJ cried out in orgasm, she switched the chandeliers off.

  Chapter 14

  Vika stepped out of the circle and waited as CJ, bent over and huffing from the ecstasy of their communion, slowly lifted his head—and growled at her. His lascivious gaze was red and without light.

  “Come to me, witch,” he said on a tone that rattled the air as if a death knell.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am...” He slapped a hand on the floor as he crawled forward, but, wary of the salt, he stopped, hissed and sat on his haunches, displaying a proud erection. “Want.”

  Nice. She’d snagged one that could be controlled, hopefully, with sex.

  The demon in control of CJ rubbed a palm down his abdomen, yet hissed when his hand crossed over one of the tattoos for which Vika had no idea of its power.

  “Come.” He gestured with his tattooed hand, and Vika’s skin tingled with anticipation. He could make her skin hum with but a touch of those fingers. But she must remember she was dealing with a demon, not her whiskey-and-vanilla-scented lover.

  She walked around the circle, knowing the pale moonlight glanced off her sweat-glistened skin. “I want you to look at me first. To feel desire. You say you are Want?”

  “I am Want. I need. I crave.”

  “What of me? You’re so greedy. Have you no care to pleasing me?”

  “I will fulfill all your needs, red witch. It is Want’s desire to see you writhe in ecstasy. Return to the circle and I will show you desires you cannot imagine. The feeble dark witch I occupy knows nothing about pleasing a woman.”

  She would stand to argue that point, but...not with a demon.

  The only writhing she wanted to see was CJ’s body as it released the demon. But she had to keep the demon in the mood and sexually jacked up in order to catch it unawares. “Let me watch you satisfy yourself.”

  CJ grimaced and chuckled lowly. Vika had to remind herself it may have her lover’s face and body, but it was demon through to the core, or in fact, the very soul.

  The demon stroked his erection, wet with his release, his wicked gaze not leaving hers. She held his stare as she backed to the couch and sat, spreading her legs and fluttering her fingers over her folds but not touching. She had to control the demon carefully. And really, she was not feeling any pleasure at this moment, yet she had to make it look good.

  “Yes, touch yourself, red witch.” He stroked faster.

  “I thought you were the one who intended to satisfy me?” She cupped her breasts and squeezed the nipples, moaning at the soft pain heightened by the previous make-out session with her lover that had rendered her achy.

  “You won’t let me out. I have to do things this way. Alone, so alone. There. Yes. Squeeze harder, witch. I want to see you squirm upon the couch.”

  “I need you inside me,” she gasped, feeling the instinctual pull for the satisfaction CJ’s touch promised.

  Not CJ. Don’t forget! She glanced down to ensure the tapestry bag was at hand’s reach.

  Springing up, Vika approached the circle and leaned over her frantically stroking demon. “Do you wish to be inside me, Want?”

  He nodded furiously.

  She dragged a foot over the salt circle, opening it, and then quickly stepped back to sit on the couch, slipping the knife from the tote as she did so and tucking it between the cushions.

  The demon sprang upon her, bold, erect and fierce. He shoved her shoulders back and spread her legs. Not so rough, he actually maintained a touch of gentility, which gave her pause. Could CJ be aware inside? He would hate her for this trick.

  “Love the dark,” he growled. “Will give you my special darkness.”

  With no reluctance he entered her, and she thought it felt hotter, harder, fiercer than ever. Vika dragged her fingernails across his back as he began to thrust over and over.

  It is CJ. My lover. No other.

  Yet the growls were demonic, not of this realm. Otherworldly.

  Biting her lip, Vika clung to the man, determination fixing her to the goal.

  CJ paused above her, his jaw tight, and then cried out, the goal of orgasm achieved.

  Vika dragged the knife across her palm then slashed it over the demon’s chest. Now she did not consider this was CJ’s flesh. The demon did not notice as it thrust inside her, bleeding the last waves of orgasm into its body. She slapped her palm to the open cut and recited the expulsion spell, and followed with a forceful, “Begone!”

  The demon tilted his head down over her and growled, “Bitch.”

  Shoulders racked backward, CJ’s body flew off hers and landed on its back, sprawled across the salt circle. He moaned in pain and gripped his chest, coiling forward to clutch the bloody wound.

  Gripping the cushions, Vika breathed out heavily, her heartbeats thundering. She leaned forward, panting, waiting. Had it worked? Was her lover lying on the floor, or had she unloosed a dangerous demon to this realm? The salt circle was broken. It could escape—


  Remembering her plan, she quickly flicked the lights on. Thousands of blinding lights, red, green, amber and violet, danced across her bare stomach. Crystals tinkled. A candle hissed out in a curl of smoke.

  CJ moaned as if burned by the brilliance and tucked his head toward his chest.

  After long moments of tense waiting, she dared to approach the prone witch. His chest heaved. His fingers grasped the floor. Certainly swung his gaze at her. “What happened? Did it work? Why are you—?” He touched his penis, finding the sticky remnants of his pleasure. “Did we?” And then he slapped a palm over his bleeding chest. “Vika?”

  “I had to do it that way. We could have never contained the demon otherwise. I didn’t think I could exorcise the demon within unless I let it out and controlled it.”

  He rubbed his bloody fingers together. “You let it out? Who? Which one?”

  “Want.”

  “Fuck.” He beat his chest and growled at her, “You had sex with a demon.”

  “I had sex with you, CJ.”

  “But I don’t remember it all. I don’t think... Why can’t I? You fucked the demon? You lured it out. We had agreed not to take it this route. You never told me—” He spied the remote in her hand. “Vika, did you plan this?”

  She nodded, sucking in the edge of her lip. Guilt quickly replaced the elation she had felt to find her lover responsive and, seemingly, of his mind. “It’s gone though, right? It worked?”

  He nodded in agreement, but slowly, unsure and definitely not on the same page as her. Touching the cut on his chest, Vika saw it had already healed. Scar tissue gleamed beneath the line of smeared crimson.

  “I wasn’t in control,” he said. “It was the demon with whom you had sex. You could have been hurt. Or worse.”

  Yes, worse. Yet she hadn’t allowed herself to go there while in the midst of the wicked seduction. It would have weakened her. Rendered her unsuccessful. “But I wasn’t hurt.”

  He brushed the salt off his thigh with an absent gesture. Looking at her, he waved an accusing finger. “You should have told me your plan. I would have never allowed you to do this.”

  “Exactly.” She sat up straight, not about to cower at his tantrum. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you. You should be thankful. Another demon is gone from you. Doesn’t that please you in the least?”

  “To know you risked your life? No, I am not pleased.” He swept up to kneel before her and clasped her wrists, gently, pleadingly. “You could have been hurt. What if it hadn’t been Want but something like War?”

  “I would have never let War out of the circle. I’m not an idiot.” She struggled to pull from his grasp, but he held firmly.

  “Vika.” He pressed his forehead to her knuckles then looked at her. “I would walk the world with all the demons inside me to keep them away from you. To keep you clean. I don’t want you touched by their evil. Please, you have to understand that.”

  She did understand that. And she wasn’t feeling guilty for the heck of it. The sacrifice had to be made. The plan had worked. But she could not count it as a success. “Sorry.”

  “This can’t happen again. I can’t allow it.”

  She stroked the hair along his cheek. “I did it because I care about you.”

  Shaking his head, he bowed it before her. “If you knew the things I had done, you wouldn’t care so much about me.”

  Twining her fingers through his long hair, she wanted to brush it aside her cheek, take it into her mouth, but she daren’t. “We’ve all done things we regret.”

  Like right now. Regret was a bitter taste upon her tongue, and she wanted to purge it. It felt murky and evil, as if she had dragged her tongue across CJ’s infested soul. By the goddess, was she taking on his darkness?

  “I don’t regret going to Daemonia,” he said. “Nor do I regret the things I did to get there. It was necessary evil.”

  She couldn’t imagine a reason to venture into the place of all demons, to risk his life. And for what? This must be the secret he’d been unwilling to divulge to her earlier. “Tell me?”

  “I can’t. I won’t. Put your clothes on.”

  He stood and wandered off to the closet behind the bed, leaving his final words an abrupt command that bruised her without touching her skin.

  Vika pulled the purple dress over her head and tugged it down. This had gone over not at all as she had planned. She’d expected his gratitude, not anger. Apparently the man’s morals were much less murky than she had thought.

  Truly, had she taken a turn toward the dark? And meanwhile, was Certainly traveling toward the light?

  I can’t. I won’t.

  What he had done must have been truly evil if he could not reveal his motives behind the quest to Daemonia.

  He lingered near the bed, dressing slowly, and she got the distinct impression he didn’t want to talk. Suddenly chilled, Vika stuffed her things in the tote bag and slipped on her shoes. The mess of salt and the guttered red candles called to her urge for order, but more than that, she felt she was not welcome.

  “I need to go,” she said, and as she walked toward the door, tears came to her eyes because he didn’t ask her to stay.

  Chapter 15

  When the door closed with an abrupt click, CJ sighed. He shouldn’t have let her walk out like that. But he hadn’t known what to say without raising his voice and going on a rant. Vika’s actions hadn’t jibed with who he thought she was. She’d lied to him.

  Not exactly a lie. Worried she wouldn’t be able to handle the interior exorcism, she hadn’t divulged her complete plans for the spell.

  “Not like you’re much better, eh?” He tugged up his jeans then wandered over to the salt circle to assess the mess. “She did exorcise another demon.”

  The want demon. He knew War, Pain and Protection, along with a few others, were still inside, tittering at him. Laughing, because the weakest demons had gone and now the most powerful could use the space to garner strength.

  Sitting on the couch and blowing out a breath, he picked up the remote that he’d programmed to switch all the chandeliers on or off with one press of a button. She’d known exactly what to do and when. The perfect means to exorcism—coax the demon to the fore and out of the protective circle—but so dangerous. Had War or Pain reared their heads, Vika would have been helpless against them.

  Against you. It is you who harbors the monsters. You are responsible for her safety.

  Shoving a hand over his hair, he tilted his head and growled at the constellation of prismatic light, which had become the ugliest thing in his life. He hated the colors, the riot of flashes, the constant minute tinkling. All he wanted was peace. Quiet.

  Darkness. An utterly empty and demonless darkness.

  And he wanted it with the beautiful red witch in his life.

  “Want,” he muttered, and smirked. “Even when you are gone, I still want.”

  He’d wanted many things in his lifetime. Some of those things he had taken, stolen, used nefarious means to obtain, but none had he ever wanted so that he felt the need in his very bones. In his soul. Yes, that writhing nest of twisted demons and darkness occupying his soul. It wanted Viktorie St. Charles.

  Was it the demons who desired her, so they could toy with her, play with her, torture her?

  No. He felt real desire. In fact, CJ believed he loved her.

  And how dare he—him, the witch who had traveled to Daemonia to steal only to keep something away from another witch—even think he could stand beside Vika as an equal and deserve her love in return?

  * * *

  Libby popped her head through the bedroom doorway and gaped at Vika, who lay across her bed, arms stretched high over her head and fingers toying with the cream lace edging the pillow sham.

  “What?” Vika asked.

  “Your shoes are on the floor.”

  “So?” Vika winced at the bright streetlight beaming through the window.

  Upon arriving home, she had wanted to sweater herself
within the sheets and sleep away the night. She’d gotten this far, but she had expected Libby to pop a curious nose into her room sooner rather than later.

  “They’re in the middle of the floor, toppled, as if tossed there...” Libby paused dramatically, and then said, “Haphazardly.”

  “What are you getting at, Libby?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Her sister climbed onto the bed and leaned over Vika’s face, her hair spilling over a shoulder. Pink polka dots danced about her white retro dress cinched with a smart plastic pink buckle. “You have a filing system in the closet. Shoes must be immediately put away so as not to cause trippage. You taught me that yourself. And you’re wearing my dress. What in the goddess’s shampoo?”

  “You said I could,” she muttered defensively.

  “I did, but I didn’t think you were taking this one. The short one. Vika, you never wear short stuff. You say it’s unladylike. That the tease is much better the less they see. Oh, mercy, I think the dark witch has put a spell on you.”

  She pressed the back of her hand to Vika’s forehead, as they often teasingly did. It certainly wasn’t a way to determine bewitchment.

  Vika smiled and coiled toward her sister. “It’s true. He has bewitched me, bold and bright.”

  “You know it for sure?”

  She nodded. “I lied to CJ because I’ve fallen under his spell. Tricked him with the bloodsexmagic spell.”

  “Oh, hell. You never lie. And you smell like whiskey and vanilla. Merciful goddess, what kind of trouble are you in, Vika? We’ll have to reverse his dark bewitchery. We can do that. I just have to—”

  “You’ll do nothing.” Vika clasped her sister’s hand and squeezed. “I’m in love, Libby. Despite his probably never wanting to speak to me again after what I did to him hours earlier, I love Certainly Jones.”

  “Love? Huh. What did you do? The sex magic? How did it go?”

  “I exorcised another demon by seducing it and letting it have sex with me.”