by Loki Renard
“More animalistic?” Anita suggested.
“Yes,” Georgia smiled, flashing white teeth and the canines that had always been a little too long.
An idea was tickling at Anita's brain. It had been there for a time, but now it was building evidence behind it. “Are you... could you...”
“Spit it out,” Georgia chuckled, easing down so that she laid on her side, her head resting on her hand, propped up by her arm.
“You're like an animal,” Anita blurted.
“I favor a totemic kind of magic, that is true,” Georgia laughed, thoroughly amused.
“You're a lion. Lioness.”
“Quite. And you...”
“I'm not anything,” Anita shook her head. Hers was an arcane ritual type of practice, stitched together from a hundred different traditions. She did what worked and dropped what didn't. The coven was of a similar style. It took on whatever traditions and style its members wanted to have. Anita wasn't sure that was a good thing, but it was all any of them had.
Georgia crooked her finger. “Come here witchling.” Anita hesitated a moment. Georgia did not seem mad at the moment, but the promise she'd made earlier that day still lingered in her mind. 'Take it out on your ass,' she'd said. That wouldn't be pleasant at all. “Come here,” Georgia coaxed in gentler tones. “Don't look so worried, my sweet.”
Taking that as some assurance that she was not calling her to be beaten, Anita crawled up onto the bed and allowed Georgia to take her in a warm embrace. The feeling of Georgia's body pressed against her own was, as always, instantly calming. No matter how stormy their relationship might be, the physical contact was always good, always healing. With Georgia's arms wrapped around her, all was right with the world.
Georgia smiled as Anita snuggled in closer. “Is that better?”
Anita nodded. “Much better.”
“What am I going to do with you?” Georgia posed the question, stroking Anita's hair gently.
“Nothing, just let me be,” Anita suggested.
“You get into trouble that way. I'm getting visits from the Headmaster about you.”
Anita giggled. “High Priest, not Headmaster.”
“Same difference really,” Georgia smiled. Anita enjoyed her irreverence. It would probably have offended other members of the coven, the ones who mistook the structure for the magic, the ones who wouldn't have known a source of real power if they'd tripped over and fallen into it.
“Well that was an accident. I didn't mean to do anything. I doubt anyone else really noticed anyway,” Anita shrugged. “Did you agree to come to a gathering?”
“You're changing the subject,” Georgia noted, dropping a kiss on Anita's nose. “But yes, I did.”
“Really?” Anita pulled away slightly. “I thought you'd rather jump into a pit of lava than attend a gathering.”
Georgia gave a slight shrug. “Perhaps it's time I got a better look at what you've been up to.”
“You're going to interfere, aren't you,” Anita groaned, flopping onto her back. Georgia followed, draping one jean clad leg over Anita's in a subtle statement of control.
“You don't want me to know what you've been getting up to,” Georgia smiled, brushing a few strands of mussed up hair out of Anita's eyes.
“No, if you must know, I don't.”
Georgia's chuckle was low, filled with humor and the rumble of creeping dominance. “You are such a naughty little witchling.”
“And you're the big bad witch,” Anita replied. “The coven won't know what hit them.”
“Probably not,” Georgia agreed, lowering her head and dropping a kiss on Anita's lips. Anita's psychic shields were still in place so there was no rush of power this time, just the warmth of flesh on flesh. That in was enough in itself. Anita reached for Georgia and drew her down on top of her, wanting more than just a chaste kiss. She growled with annoyance when Georgia pulled away. “Not so fast. I have a promise to keep.”
“What?”
“To take you to task for your behavior today.”
“No Georgia.” Anita was firm. “No.”
“So sweet,” Georgia smiled, flashing her canines. “You think you can refuse me.”
“You don't own me, Georgia. I'm still a person with rights,” Anita reminded her.
“Of course,” Georgia smoothed her hand under Anita's shirt and let her palm gently rest low on Anita's belly. “But you know you behaved badly, don't you?”
Looking up into Georgia's eyes, Anita felt herself becoming lost in them. They were mesmerizing, beautiful, and so very determined. “Perhaps,” she admitted softly.
“So there has to be some kind of consequence, don't you think?”
“Maybe.”
“Such a naughty little witch,” Georgia murmured, nuzzling Anita's neck. “You know you've been bad, but you don't want to take your consequences.”
“Of course not,” Anita smiled. “Not if I can avoid it.”
Georgia's hand curled into a claw as she dragged her fingernails lightly over the sensitive skin of Anita's stomach. “But you know very well that karma cannot be avoided. What goes around comes around.”
“You're just looking for an excuse to mark me again.”
The nuzzling stopped for a moment and Anita felt teeth gently against her neck. The sharper canines were very much in evidence, denting the skin. Georgia pressed down to the point where Anita whimpered in pain, then released the bite. “I can mark you when I please. I need no excuse.”
Squirming beneath her mate, Anita felt breathless and primal. Georgia was impressive with or without her magic. “Drop your shield,” Georgia whispered, licking the spot she'd just bitten.
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
Anita resisted a moment too long and Georgia began to push at the shield. It was not a comfortable feeling. The pressure made Anita squirm where she lay. “Don't resist me. Drop the shield,” Georgia insisted, hooking a single finger and miming a clawing movement. Anita squealed as a shaft of bright power sliced through the brick and mortar, cutting it like a laser. Georgia's ability to translate from the physical to the metaphysical was unbelievable.
“Stop it!” Anita clutched at Georgia's arm and forced it down onto the bed.
“Do as you're told,” Georgia warned her. “Or it's going to hurt.” Another bright gap appeared in Anita's shield as the mortar crumbled under the force of Georgia's will. Anita screeched with pain that stabbed through her mind. “I told you,” Georgia said coldly. “Drop it now.”
Defeated, Anita dropped her shields, whimpering in pain. Fortunately for her the pain only lasted for a second. With her shields down, Anita was unable to prevent Georgia's power flowing over her, flowing through her. It warmed her instantly and healed the hurt.
“Why must you be so stubborn, witchling?” Georgia murmured, caressing under Anita's breasts. “Why do you always fight me?”
“Why must you always control me?” Anita asked in turn.
The response was more animalistic than she expected. Georgia took her by the hair and pinned her head to the bed as she loomed over her. “Because you are mine. Because I have claimed you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you.”
“I'm not something to be claimed. I am a witch, we are independent,” Anita argued.
“Something else you read on a website?” Georgia's laugh was derisive. “Nobody is truly independent Anita. If witches were independent, why would they form covens? Why would those covens have a hierarchy? Look at your own. You have initiates, first degree witches, second degree witches, third degree witches and a High Priest. That's an awful lot of hierarchy for a group of people who claim to be ruthlessly independent.”
Anita's argument lay in ruins, much like the rubble of her shields. “Still,” she said lamely, crossing her arms over her chest. It was an awkward movement to perform in a prone position.
“You're afraid of me,” Georgia said, lowering her lips to Anita's. “You'r
e afraid of what I'll do if you submit to me.”
“No,” Anita denied the accusation immediately.
“No?” Georgia cocked her head, her blond hair sliding silkily to the side. “Perhaps you are right. Maybe it is not me you are afraid of. Maybe you're afraid of what you will do if you allow yourself to submit.”
That was closer to the truth. Anita's passions had always run hot and heavy, Georgia's even more so. The pretense of equality had kept their lovemaking in a safe zone for the past three years. But she often felt the unnamed desires that floated just below the surface. If Georgia had her way they would never emerge from their mutual debauchery, Anita was sure of it.
“Don't fear your passions, witchling,” Georgia said, gently uncrossing Anita's arms. “They are nothing to fear. They will lead you to new freedoms.”
“You say that, but passion can bind more than it frees.”
“You would know all about that, witchling,” Georgia smiled darkly. “You with your little binding rituals.”
“That again,” Anita sighed. “I said I was sorry.”
“Oh no need to apologize,” Georgia reached for Anita's hand and lifted it to her mouth, laying her lips on Anita's palm. “I was all too glad to participate.”
“Of course you were,” Anita remembered. “You knew it would only aid your cause.”
“Oh Anita,” Georgia shook her head. “You are so arrogant. Even now you think you know everything, but there is so much more for you to learn, so much more exists, beyond your imagination. I can show you these things. But you have to learn to put your assumptions aside and follow me.”
“And if I don't?”
Georgia shrugged. “Then you will probably discover what there is to be discovered anyway, but it will come as quite a shock. You've bound yourself to me without understanding what I am and in doing so you've bound yourself to forces beyond your control. Can you feel them? Can you feel our destiny drawing closer?”
Frowning, Anita tried to dismiss Georgia's words as drama. But Georgia wasn't given to drama. When she said something, she meant it. A slight chill passed through Anita. “Are bad things going to happen to me?”
“Not if you behave yourself,” Georgia said. “But if you insist on defying me, I may not be there when it finds you. This is not something you want to face alone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm talking about a power that rules absolutely. A power that has you on its radar now. I have tried to hide us, but you went into the village and all but commanded it to come to us.” Georgia's face was deathly serious. “You owe Athelstan an apology. If it weren't for his warning, we would not be prepared at all.”
“Prepared for what? You tell me I have to listen to you, but you're not telling me anything, not really.”
“You will know her when you see her,” Georgia said. “Until then, any attempt to describe her will sound like bad fiction. Just trust me when I tell you to abstain from any more magic without me.”
“Fine,” Anita pouted. “We'll do it your way.”
“Yes,” Georgia growled. “We will.”
Chapter Three
Anita was hardly on board with the idea of Georgia coming to teach the coven, but everyone was so excited about it that it would have been churlish to veto to the idea, not to mention entirely pointless. Georgia had her heart set on attending the next gathering and the news was everywhere. Athelstan had probably been a bard in a previous life, he'd certainly done a good enough job of spreading the word about Georgia's impressive power. As a result there were more at the gathering than usual. In total nine bodies made an appearance, not including Georgia and Anita, who raised the count to eleven.
It was a fine mid summer's evening and the coven gathered in the forest that grew adjacent to the village. It was a perfect place for several reasons, the first of those being that it was within walking distance for pretty much everyone in the village, though that was not what Athelstan would have said if he was asked why they gathered there. No, it was the 'Goddess' Circle' that drew them, he said.
The 'Goddess' Circle' was a 'natural' circle of trees with soft grass growing between them. Athelstan claimed that it was a place of power. Anita was pretty certain it had been a council project at one time or another. You could still see the places where the barbeques had been erected before hooligans kicked them down. It might have been the 'Godesses' Circle' to the coven, but it was a lot of places to a lot of people, so the meeting began with several minutes of throwing away chip packets, empty beer cans and ubiquitous pornographic magazines that people had stuffed into the bushes.
Whilst Athelstan and Georgia conferred over some matter of advanced magic, Anita and Lith giggled together over one of the magazines. Lith was one of the initiates, an outspoken young woman of twenty five. She wore large rimmed glasses and kept her long red hair perennially scraped back in a harsh pony tail. Her penchant for knitted cardigans did not help her appearance. Lith did not seem to care much if she appeared dowdy, unlike other initiates who often did their best to seem dark and alternative, Lith would have blended in just as well at a quilting circle as she did at a moonlit meeting of the coven.
Lith was one of Anita's favorites for several reasons. She baked damn good chocolate chip muffins for starters, and always bought a flask of hot tea. That put her in Anita's good graces immediately. But above and beyond the tasty treats, Lith was a genuinely good natured woman who loved a joke. Her most recent trick of hiding frogs in the biscuit tin had not gone over well with all the coven, but Anita had rather enjoyed the ensuing hilarity.
“Come, let us form the circle,” Athelstan boomed impressively, interrupting Anita and Lith's speculation about the penis size of the porn star they were casually ogling. Anita sometimes thought that Athelstan was High Priest not because of his experience, but because of his dramatic flair. At his invitation, everyone dropped what they were doing and formed the circle. Athelstan was at the 'head' of the circle with Georgia at his right side and Anita sat to her right. The rest of the coven arranged themselves according to seniority.
“Our guest today needs no introduction. She is a practitioner of totemic magic and has offered to take us on a guided meditation,” Athelstan announced. “I give you into her capable hands.”
The coven looked eagerly at Georgia, who had gone out of her way to look the part. Anita wore a simple black tunic dress that just fell to her knees and was belted at the waist, but Georgia had gone for the full robe effect with a flowing dark dress that wrapped around her body and a hood that sat over her golden hair, creating dramatic contrast. She hadn't even opened her mouth and she already held them in thrall.
It was interesting to Anita that the moment Georgia took stock of the meeting, her gaze seemed to be drawn to the red head, who was blithely ignoring the growing silence as she flicked through the pages of the aptly named 'MASSIVE JUGS'. Anita felt a pang of jealousy as Georgia's blue eyes flickered with interest. Of course Georgia was interested. Lith was young, female and not unpleasant to look at. It would not have been fair to Georgia to say that she had a roving eye. It would have been more delicate to say that she had been something of a connoisseur of women in her time and old habits died hard.
Lith continued to browse the magazine, completely oblivious to the fact that they were trying to start the meeting. That was another of Lith's charming qualities. She had a focus so intense that she often blocked out the rest of the world without knowing she'd done it. It was a wonderful trait for a witch, not so much for someone expected to operate in a group setting.
After several attempts to get Lith's attention, Georgia had enough. “Put the magazine down Lith, before I thrash you with it.”
