"Who brought them to you?" She touched the surface of the glass, noting the slight fogginess and imperfections of old craftsmanship.
"There is a lady that lived in Downtown Salem who says she's like the granddaughter twelve times removed of one of the original witches in Salem," Nicole piped in, shrugging. "Some older eccentric ladies claim to be related to witches, it's a thing everyone pretends doesn't happen." Sara laughed and rolled her eyes causing the other woman to grin in return.
"So, if we do see something, I want you to pretend you don't. I don't want my spirit to know I can see him." Sara glanced back at the door leading to the house.
"What makes you think it's a man?" Greg asked, following her gaze.
"Just a feeling."
They agreed to her request, and she opened the door, scooping Chico up before he could get out to greet their guests. Nicole squealed with delight upon seeing him and made kissy faces, holding out her hands. Chico seemed as interested in the girl as she did in him, so Sara handed him to her to hold. The women watched the guys bring in the tools they would need to hang the larger mirror in the living room after Tony carried the smaller mirror to the bedroom.
They chatted about things to do in the city and points of interest as they measured and leveled the hooks for the larger looking glass. When they finished, they hung it on its new hooks and removed the cloth covering it. Sara was glad it had a dark finish and matched the rest of the room.
All other thoughts left her as she stared in shock at the man from her dreams lying on her sofa. By the stunned expressions on the faces of the others, she could tell they were just as surprised as she was the mirrors worked. The man on the couch was watching them with interest though he made no attempts to move from the spot.
Greg cleared his throat and spoke first. "Well, looks like everything is level. It works just fine."
"Yes, that's a great spot for it." Sara tried to make his words sound like he was talking about it working with the room.
"Let us know what happens or if you want to return it." Greg peeled his eyes away from the mirror and headed towards the door. He tugged on Nicole's arm, urging her towards the portal outside while Tony followed behind him. The invisible man in the mirror stood, walking with a lithe grace to the mirror, and studied it.
Sara closed the door behind Greg and his companions after giving him a wide-eyed, disbelieving look and receiving one in return. She assured him she would be in contact with him soon.
Rotating, she saw the guy in the mirror had his head turned and realized he was watching her. He stood there for a moment longer before going back to the couch and touching the remote sitting on the coffee table, reflected in the depths of the mirror. She jumped when the television turned on to a sports channel even though she had known this would happen.
Sara went to the couch, helping Chico onto the piece of furniture, and cuddling him while she looked in the mirror. Since Greg and Tony mounted it over the television, looking at the mirror gave the impression she was watching TV rather than the man lying on the couch next to her. As she watched, she would see his head move, and she realized he kept stealing glances at her.
“Ugh, sports again?” Sara kept her tone as neutral as possible as she sat and stroked the dog.
The man in the mirror chuckled before reaching over and changing the television to a home improvement station.
“What are you trying to say?”
The man rolled his eyes and changed it again to a comedy show about a bunch of police officers.
He was scrumptious, much better than in her dreams. His soft brown hair fell into his eyes, and she wanted to swipe her fingers through it, smoothing it away from his brow. When he moved, throwing one arm behind his head as he watched the television, the muscles in his biceps and on his torso flexed.
With every breath he took, she wanted to run her hands all over his chest and stomach, to feel the grooves between his abdominal muscles and play with his dusky exposed nipples. She was glad he was half naked, it made for a much better view.
Chiding herself for thinking about him as a piece of meat instead of a person, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the man next to her. In her world, men like this only existed in magazines and on the covers of romance novels.
Realizing she needed to take care of herself, and that it had indeed been a long time since she had enjoyed the company of a man, Sara decided to replace an object she threw away without thinking in Texas. She picked up her phone and browsed personal massagers online. With luck and two-day shipping, she would find relief soon.
14. SAMUEL
Samuel studied the mirror hanging over the television for what seemed like the hundredth time. There was something wrong with it, but he couldn’t place his finger on what it was. The mirror, and its partner in the bedroom emanated a strange aura Samuel knew only he could see. He’d been trying to figure out what the feeling they caused could be. It was almost like he was being watched, but that was impossible. Learning early on that people couldn’t see his presence, even in mirrors or any other items used to detect supernatural beings, he didn’t question that these ones could be any different.
Sara’s behavior became odd over the past few days, he noticed. When she would cuddle up on the couch with the dog, he would lay next to her as he had done over the previous months and watch whatever was playing on the television. Sometimes she would play with her little handheld device he’d learned was a telephone through commercials. It was only since the men came and installed the mirrors that her behavior became different.
She was shyer and more reserved though she loosened back up recently. She also kept glancing at those mirrors, yet she tried to pretend she didn’t. Samuel shook his head and turned when she walked into the living room carrying a box and a glass of wine.
Sara placed both items on the coffee table and picked up a pair of scissors which had been resting there. Cutting open the box, a grin spread across her face as she lifted the flaps of cardboard.
“We’re going to have fun tonight.” Sara pulled a long thin box out of the brown cardboard shipping container. It was black and had no lettering on the outside. Samuel walked over and sat next to her, looking at the package with interest. He thought it was odd the carton didn’t have any outward pictures on it.
Sara opened the black box, pulling out something long and wrapped in a velvet bag, a power cord, and directions. Placing the latter things aside, she opened the velvet bag and removed something he could describe as phallic in nature.
The device was about six inches long. One end came to a soft mushroom capped point, and the other end had several buttons on the top. She took a sip of the wine and, with her free hand, swiped her thumb over one of the buttons.
“I shall call you Armond.” Sara’s eyed the thing with a sultry glance and placed an odd accent on the name.
Samuel’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in astonishment when the thing in her hand vibrated. He guessed what it was for. He saw her eyes flick to the mirror while she took another sip of the wine and her smile widened even further.
Placing down the wine glass, she stroked the length of the device, and he groaned. He could imagine her running her fingers over him with the same grace, massaging down his shaft and cupping his sack with a firm yet gentle grip. He moved closer to her without realizing, his shock turning into need as he reached for her.
Touching her was the only thing on his mind. Her eyebrows rose, but he paid her no mind while his hand stretched towards her face, wanting to cup her cheek and pull her closer. He longed to take her lips in his, work his way down her body, licking and biting every inch of her skin until she cried out his name in bliss. His hand went through her jaw, making no contact, and reminding him he couldn’t touch her.
Samuel fell face first onto the couch and let out a deep sigh. He was lamenting his inability to take part in the world or touch the sweet flesh of the woman sitting next to him when she stood up with the device and wine in hand,
walking towards the bedroom.
“Are you coming?” Sara asked over her shoulder.
He didn’t even take the time to contemplate whether she was talking to him. Rolling off the couch and standing in one lithe movement, he followed her into her room and jumped on the bed while she emptied her hands onto the nightstand.
Samuel watched with rapt fascination when she reached for the hem of her shirt. He saw her eyes flick to the corner towards the mirror standing there for a brief second before pulling the item over her head. His eyes widened, and Samuel sat up with the anticipation of seeing her naked again. Sure, he had seen her nude when she dashed from her bedroom to the utility room for clothes, but there was something different about watching her undress with intent.
Throwing the shirt to the side, Sara ran her fingers through her hair and down, around her neck, to the area right above her breast. The delightful globes where covered in the sheerest black silk and lace undergarment. There was barely enough fabric to hide the erect little nipples that poked underneath, begging for freedom.
Samuel licked his lips, intent on her fingers, as they lazily stroked over the soft mounds. He wanted nothing more than to replace her fingers with his as she flicked them over the front clasp holding the cups of her bra together. With deliberate intention, she pulled the fabric away to reveal the treasure hidden behind.
Rearing up onto his knees, Samuel crawled across the bed until he was in front of her, holding his hands over her breast as if he were about to caress them with his palms. He felt a slight amount of pain as his erection dug into his pants, unable to adjust the strain in his body, but he experienced intense pleasure as well. Watching her caress herself, almost as if she knew he was there, was a powerful aphrodisiac.
Sara reached down to her pants and snagged her thumbs in the waistband, working them over her hips. Once they were off, she kneeled on the bed, crawling to the headboard. He moved behind her, running his hands centimeters away from her skin as if he were embracing it. Admiring her ample backside, he imagined digging his fingers into the soft flesh while he moved inside her, taking her from behind until she screamed his name.
Samuel barely had time to finish the thought before she turned over, spreading her legs and revealing herself to him. He came undone at the sight of her lying before him, aching with a fierce need. Pleasure overrode the pain his physical body felt.
Sara grabbed a small bottle of lubricant and squeezed a small amount between the folds of her womanhood. Samuel watched, his gaze intent, as she used her fingers to wet them before she picked up the vibrator and turned it on. She placed the device against her little pink nub and moved it back and forth, her pace slow and deliberate. It became slick from the mixture of the lube and her own fluids.
Copying her moan as she slipped the device inside her body and stroked her core, he moved his hips in time to hers, imagining being sheathed deep inside her warmth. He took his fingers and, using a little of his energy, created a small static between her skin and where his hand hovered. It was just enough to leave traces of a warm tingle instead of shocking her. She must have felt it because she arched her body towards him, still moving the device with broad, even strokes.
He could tell she was on the verge of release when she moaned louder and panted in time with the motion of the vibrator. He watched her face, the way her body moved, the slick slide of the device growing faster. As Sara clenched her legs together, crying out her release with her hips jerking against the toy, a profound euphoria came over him.
Samuel realized for the first time in several centuries, he found release even as his body was trapped deep in the cellar below the house. He fell onto the bed next to her, laying on his back and panting, as he reveled in the feelings washing over him. Not only was she staying, he decided, but he would not let her go.
15. SARA
Sara rolled over in the bed and snuggled Chico closer. She didn’t want to wake up. Thinking about the past two weeks, Sara smiled to herself. It was a little scary how attached she was getting to a man who didn’t exist.
Sometimes when she fell asleep at night, the man in the mirror would lie on her bed next to her. He would move his hand as if to brush the hair from her forehead, and although she couldn’t see his face since his back was to the mirror, she could tell it was a tender gesture. On those nights she would wake in the morning, and he would still be there, resting on his back, looking for all the world like he slept.
She would admire him when he had his eyes closed even though he didn’t know she could see him. He looked so peaceful with his arms behind his head, his face and body relaxed. Gone was the concern that marred his features when awake. After battling with herself over the morality of watching him while he wasn’t aware of her attention, she decided it was only fair as he had done the same to her.
They went to bed last night in such a manner. Like most of the nights before, she took care of her own needs while watching him get as close to her as he could. Sometimes she felt a tingling sensation where his hands hovered over her body, and she assumed it was the same energy he used to interact with objects around the house.
Chico groaned and pushed away from her causing her to laugh. “It’s time to get up lazy.”
The dog rolled over and jumped up at those words, knowing it was time to go outside and do his business. Sitting up on the bed, Sara ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her eyes before standing. She walked out the door and whistled for Chico to follow.
It was odd she woke up alone, and she wondered where her companion had gone off to. She would have to think of a nickname for him, even something like ‘Sexy’ would do. Checking the mirror in the living room, she frowned when she saw no trace of him. He had been her almost constant shadow since the first night she invited him into her bedroom.
Sara let Chico out into the backyard, happy she had splurged and had a fence installed around part of it so she wouldn’t have to tie him up when he went to the bathroom. Even he skirted around the doors that led into the basement. That was something she would have to look into, eventually. Why the basement gave her the creeps, and she avoided it at all costs.
Shrugging, she unlocked the front door to grab the newspaper. She liked to read the comic section while she made her coffee. Opening it, she found at least a dozen fresh cut red roses scattered on the front landing.
Sara slammed the door, locking it with a quick movement, before turning around and falling to the floor. She hyperventilated, wrapping her arms around her legs, and rocked back and forth.
He found her.
She got rid of her life, changed her last name, moved halfway across the country, and the psychopath still found her. Looking around the house, her eyes wild, Sara tried to remember the advice the therapist gave her about how to deal with the panic attacks. Her mind drew a blank. She was lightheaded, her ears rang, and her world spun, but she took a deep breath, holding it before letting it out to a slow count.
“You’re fine, you’re ok.” Sara took another deep breath while trying to calm her racing heart.
“He didn’t find you, it will be ok.” She was still rocking back and forth, but repeating these phrases to herself helped her calm down from the initial shock of seeing the flowers scattered on the front step.
Jeremy, her first serious love affair, had been a man she barely escaped with her life from. His abuse was insidious. Sara met him at a transitory job while she was moving from Community College to University. He was smart, witty, and everyone loved him. There was always something going on in his life, and he was happy to be the center of attention. She couldn’t believe he would be interested in someone as introverted and awkward as she was.
Within six months he moved into her apartment. Once he was in, their relationship started its downward spiral. It was the little things which morphed over time into more significant problems. She would spend an hour getting ready for a party, proud of how good she looked, for him to tell her that her makeup was wrong or she was wear
ing the wrong clothes. Jeremy would make her change until her appearance satisfied him, informing Sara after several retries that it was good enough and she’d better not embarrass him.
Soon he was telling her she wasn’t pretty, or smart, or any other shortcomings until Sara believed them herself. He said she was lucky to have him, he was the only man who could stand to be around her. His friends didn’t like her, she wasn’t enough of anything. They didn’t know why Jeremy put up with her, and he always had to defend her. Sara wasn’t allowed to talk to people he didn’t approve of.
One day, a few months further into their relationship, Jeremy came home from work early. His company made cutbacks, and they laid him off. That was when the drinking started. He would drink as soon as she left for work in the morning and he was shit-faced by the time she got home from work at night. Jeremy didn’t even try to find another job, and she had to quit school to work full time so she could pay the bills when he spent all his money on booze.
Sara remembered the first time he hit her. A combination of alcohol and insecurity caused him to lash out when she came home late after work. She went out with her coworkers to hit up a happy hour and relax before making her way back to the unhappy life awaiting her at home.
Jeremy was furious. He yelled at her when she walked through the door, and she’d had enough. For the first time, she yelled back at him, unloading all the stress and pain he caused her over the time they were together. Jeremy went quiet, clenching his fists, and for the first time, he scared her. There was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
By the end of the night, he gave her a black eye, sprained her wrist, and left bruises all over her upper body. Jeremy drilled into her brain that it was her fault he was beating her. If she were smarter, better, prettier, more loyal, he wouldn’t have to correct her.
Demon in Salem Page 5
