by Jade Alters
“They won’t be,” I say, gasping as I lean back, wiping my eyes. “They’re going to execute me!”
I explain about the Inquisitor, the curse, and tracer spell that means I can’t run, and I see Darren looking more and more freaked out by the second. That doesn’t bode well either. If he’s afraid, I must be right. There’s no way out of this.
“But it must be true,” I say, wiping my eyes, as we walk down the road. “I must have done the spell and not known it somehow. It’s so unfair that you could do a spell like that by accident, but I must have. And you guys are under my control-”
“We are not,” Darren says, squeezing my shoulder. “There’s no way, Victoria. I’m sure of it. I don’t know what we can do but…” Then, he sighs heavily. “We’ll do something.”
“Something,” I mutter. “Sounds great.”
Ian’s car slowly comes driving up the road. I climb in and tearfully greet them all before giving them the bad news. There are varied reactions. Brendan is quiet, and Ian is quiet but pissed. Mitch starts shouting about the injustice of the DMA. It’s a long ride back to the house and nobody comes up with any brilliant ideas as we make our way home.
Home. Funny how I already think of their house as “home.” I wonder if it could have been one for me…
When we get there, I feel their eyes lock on me; the girl with a death mark on her head. I can’t bear it though. I just need to be alone again for a minute. I know they’re all freaking out, whether it’s because of a spell or not, and it just makes me sadder. I need to talk to Shea. Maybe she’ll have some kind of idea. Though I doubt it.
I hide up in my room for a bit to call Shea who’s even more upset than I thought she’d be and promises to help. She says she’s going to start researching the spell and asking around to see if she can find out how to deal with the DMA. She tells me she’ll come over when she has an update. I think she’s just trying to be useful, which is sweet, but I don’t have high hopes.
When I make my way downstairs, I feel… weird. I feel like there’s a mark on my head, which is literally true though it can’t be seen. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do for the next day. Tell work, ‘Oops! I’m going to be executed?’ Make sure the Loves adopt Gus?
“You need a drink,” Brendan says when I slink into the kitchen. He pours me two fingers of an expensive looking whiskey, and I take it as he leans over to kiss my hair.
I take a long swallow and it takes a little of the edge off. “What do I do? You guys got any ideas?”
Brendan squints at me and says, “Well… no.”
“Ah.”
“But we’re not going to just give up,” Ian says behind me. He comes up and wraps his arms around me, and I lean back against him, craving to be held and touched. I feel desperate for the Loves, all of them.
The whole of the evening feels pretty surreal. Brendan makes me dinner. It’s seafood pasta with lots of shrimp. I know it’s because I’d mentioned it being my favorite food the day before. Everyone is kind of quiet, but Darren and Mitch keep trying to lighten the mood and cheer me up. At the same time, they too look like their hearts are breaking.
After dinner, we hang out on the veranda just talking and drinking wine for a while. It’s so lovely just to be with them. I keep tearing up just wishing it could be like this forever. But the hour is getting late.
Twenty-four hours from now, I’ll be dead.
Nobody points it out. Who would want to? But it’s the context of every moment and every sentence that is said. Even as Brendan and I attempt to talk about books as casually as we were a day ago, it still looms over us.
There’s one thing, though, that I can do before I die.
So when everyone seems like they’re on the verge of turning in for the night, I stand up and face them where they sit, looking a little tense in their Adirondack chairs and the porch swing. The dim light overhead casts grave little shadows on their pretty faces.
I look at all of them and feel such a swell of love and affection that I feel as if my heart is too big for my chest.
“Will you do something for me tonight?” I ask them softly.
Ian stands up and looks into my eyes when he says, “Anything you want, my love.”
“Will you take me to bed?” I say. “All of you?”
Ian nods and steps forward, cupping my cheek and kissing me softly. One by one, each Love comes up to kiss me so sweetly, showing me their love by touch alone. We head upstairs, Ian taking me by the hand to his room because it’s the biggest.
For the first time since I was handed my sentence, I don’t feel sad. Instead, I feel that connection between us. I’m sure now that the five of us were meant to be together somehow, and even death won’t make that any less true.
In Ian’s bedroom, I stand facing him and I can’t help but smile at the look he’s giving me, like I’m the only woman in the world for him. He kisses me again and Brendan comes up behind me, moving my hair to kiss the back of my neck. When he begins to lift the hem of my top, I raise my arms so he can take it off. One by one, the guys start taking off their shirts. Some goofy part of me jokes that they’re throwing me an ‘abs party’. I slip off my shoes and Darren approaches, leaning forward to kiss my shoulder and spread his palms along my stomach and back. His fingers roam over me hungrily. I look into his dark eyes and slide his hands down to the fly of my jeans. He kisses me deeply as he unbuttons them and slowly pulls down the zipper, before shoving them down over my hips.
“We’re not sad,” I say firmly, looking into his eyes. “I don’t want this to be sad.”
Darren says, “How can we be sad when we’re looking at you?”
“You always know what to say,” I whisper, and pull him down for another long, sweet kiss.
Impulsively, I decide I want Darren first, and soon enough I’m naked and laying back on the bed. The lights are on and I feel so bare and vulnerable, but I also feel so sexy with the way the four of them are looking at me now. Darren strips down and I admire his body as he crawls up the bed to hover over me. I watch the way the light reflects off his skin. He ducks his head to kiss me, and I start to wrap my legs around his back, but he stops me.
“I want to taste you,” Darren whispers, and my cheeks burn as Ian nudges my legs apart. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, yes,” I say, a little shakily. “Just a little self-conscious, I guess.”
Brendan appears beside me and presses his fingers to my lips. “You are so beautiful, Victoria. We just want to make you feel good. You’re gorgeous like this.”
That makes me feel better, and Brendan and I kiss, lazily making out until I’m gasping into his mouth because Ian is kissing my thighs and Darren’s tongue is teasing me. I can feel Darren’s fingers spreading me open, and he takes turns blowing gently into my pussy, making me gasp, and then flicking his tongue over me just enough to make me desperate for more. When a hand cups my breast, I glance over and see Mitch on my other side, gazing at me lovingly before glancing over to watch Ian and Darren pleasure me.
“Does this turn you on?” I ask him, feeling so wonderfully dirty.
“God, yes,” Mitch murmurs.
“Show me.”
Mitch actually blushes. I smile and then gasp, throwing my head back when Darren’s tongue suddenly, and very determinedly, licks at my clit. Ian spreads my legs further and I feel so utterly naked and open before them all. I bite my lip, bucking up into Darren’s mouth. He hums and then stops to look up at me.
“You taste good,” he whispers, before plunging his tongue inside me, his lips mouth at my entrance as I cry out.
I watch Mitch, my eyes tearing up from the sheer intensity of every sensation, and he kneels on the bed, stripping off his shirt and undoing his fly. He takes his cock out and my mouth waters at the sight of it, thick and hard and leaking. I watch him stroke it and look up at him, hardly able to speak because Ian is sinking his teeth into my thigh just as Darren is lapping at me with reckless abandon.
; “Let me…” I say, looking up. Mitch gets the hint and edges closer. I crane my neck, taking him in my mouth, lapping at him and delighting in the fullness and the musky taste of him as he tangles his fingers in my hair. I clutch at his ass to encourage him and he thrusts into me. I hum around him, tears sliding down my face because Darren’s fingers have joined his tongue. Just when I think I’m going to fall right over the edge, Darren stops and I feel as if I’m going die from the loss of that bliss.
Now, we’re all shifting a little as Ian tugs on my legs, sliding me down to the edge of the bed. He pushes my legs up as he slides inside me without preamble. I gasp around Mitch’s cock, but the feel of Ian inside me spurs me on as I suck at him and look up into his eyes to see him looking helpless with his desire. I let his cock slip out of my mouth and turn my head only to scream again as Ian switches with Darren, who crawls on top of me and thrusts into me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and when Darren reaches down and abruptly and furiously rubs my already swollen and sensitive clit, I scream around Mitch so loudly, I’m sure all of Pasadena must have heard. I’m shaking now as I hug Darren to me and he mouths at my neck, our sweat-slicked bodies seeking to be closer still. It feels as if the five of us want to all be one, one clan and one person. I watch the way the guys look at each other. Even as they’re pleasuring me, the love between us all is so powerful, if it could make a noise, it would be thunder.
“Victoria,” Darren whispers. “God, Victoria, you’re so…”
“Yes…” I whisper. Somehow we understand each other. We all do. The bond between us thrums like a live wire.
Brendan is watching me, jerking off, and I wave him over and suck him off, switching between him and Mitch. All the while, Darren makes love to me through the throes of my orgasm until he cries out himself, pulsing inside me and filling me up with his seed.
My four fox shifters are a garden of delights. There are so many… options. My head is spinning.
Minutes later, I’m on all fours and Mitch is thrusting inside me as I wrap my lips around Darren’s cock. I feel so dirty, but deliciously so, because Brendan is looking down at me with such love in his eyes and because Mitch is kneading my back and kissing the nape of my neck so sweetly even as he snaps his hips and makes me see stars. Darren is hot and thick in my mouth, and I find I like to curl my tongue around him and suck in my cheeks just to hear the sounds he makes. His mouth hangs open, and I see Brendan turn his head and kiss him. The sight turns me on, and I groan around Darren and push back against Mitch. Then, abruptly, the shock of an orgasm courses through me and Mitch has to hold me up even as it sets him off and he pulses inside me, filling me up.
By the time we finally stop, only because of our eventual exhaustion and excess stickiness, I feel as if all my bones have turned to jelly. Ian takes care to clean me with a damp towel and tuck me under the covers. Then, they all crawl into bed with me and we cuddle up together, sated but only temporarily distracted from whatever horrors the morning is likely to bring.
I close my eyes, but I don’t sleep for a long time.
I can still feel them inside me, and I can feel them pressed on either side, warm and solid and safe. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the pulse of Darren’s cock and Mitch’s hands sliding along my skin. But still, a voice is thundering in my head.
You’re going to die.
You’re going to die.
I don’t know how they’ll do it. I know there are killing spells, but I don’t know how long they take or if they’re painful. I feel a lump in my throat just thinking about it, and I clutch Brendan’s hand because he’s thrown his arm over me. I squeeze and he squeezes back. He doesn’t say a word, but just that bit of gentle comfort helps.
You’re going to die, I think. But at least before I go, I’ll have this to take with me.
Darren
Victoria falls asleep, but the rest of us don’t. I don’t know how she manages it, but I suppose she must just be emotionally exhausted after the events of the past few days. The rest of us are most definitely not asleep. She’s lying half on top of me and as much as I would like to remain here, naked and comfy, I know that the four of us need to talk. Very quietly and carefully we each get up, our eyes still on Victoria. I’m last, and I press a kiss to her forehead before carefully getting out from under her. Being foxes, we do have some stealth.
I don’t know what’s stranger, the fact that we all love the same woman who’s been sentenced to death, or that we all just had sex together and it doesn’t feel weird. Probably the first one.
Everyone but Ian grabs their clothes and then pads off to their rooms to change hastily into something more comfortable. We meet downstairs in the dining room, where all the serious conversations are had, and somehow it’s understood that Brendan is going to make coffee without anyone asking.
I can feel the tension between us when we’re finally sitting down with our coffee at the table. I think we would all rather be upstairs holding Victoria right now, but at the same time, we have to think of something to get her out of this. It’s making us all edgy as hell.
“We can’t run,” Mitch says, rubbing his eyes before taking a sip of coffee. “Not unless any of you knows how to break a tracer spell without alerting the DMA.”
“Maybe Shea does?” I say hopefully. “But she’d have to be a pretty damn powerful witch. We might hear from her tomorrow. Worth asking though.”
“Let’s assume she can’t,” Ian says darkly. “Any other ideas?”
“I say we fight like hell,” Brendan says quietly.
It’s not like him to say that, and it takes me aback. But it also points to just how much we all care for her. Brendan is sitting beside me and I reach over to rub his back, casting him a smile of solidarity. I know how he feels.
“Do you know how powerful the wizards are who run the DMA?” Ian says, snorting. “They’d execute us too. We might be strong, but if we attack, they’ll wipe the floor with us with nothing but a flick of their wands.”
“And you wouldn’t die for Victoria?” Brendan snaps.
“In a heartbeat,” Ian says, and he all but snarls, his fists clenched on the table. “But how does that help Victoria? It would only make her sad in her last hours on this earth. Use your head, Brendan. You’re supposed to be the smart one.”
Brendan huffs at that and frowns at his hands.
“If we could just reverse engineer that goddamn spell,” Mitch mutters.
Ian groans. Mitch isn’t wrong, but we’ve been over it a million times. It was all we talked about the whole day that Victoria was locked up at the DMA. We researched all we could. Not being warlocks or wizards ourselves, we came up with nothing.
The conversation goes around and around for a few hours, late into the night, and none of us comes up with anything useful. I feel a terrible cold dread overwhelm me just before we give up, the four of us practically falling asleep at the table.
Victoria really is going to die. And there’s not a goddamn thing we can do about it.
In the morning, Shea shows up bright and early, though her eyes are red with tears. She’s got bags full of spell supplies with her and she seems pretty wired up as she puts on a pretense of cheeriness. She’s a very put together looking person in a fashionable blouse and a pair of black leggings. Her hair, in its sleek, black bob, frames her face stylishly. Perhaps most importantly, she looks at Victoria with such love, they could be sisters.
“Hey, girl!” She hugs Victoria and her smile is big, but I don’t miss the way she squeezes Victoria tightly as if she’s afraid to let go. It breaks my heart a little bit. “We’re gonna undo this spell, okay? That’s it. That’s what’s happening. We undo the spell and we remove all the magical residue around you.” She waves her hand around Victoria as if clearing away invisible cobwebs.
This doesn’t sound like something that’s going to work. Even if they make the mark of the curse disappear, Sidjus already saw it and worse than that, he saw Victoria make Ian
bark which would seem like even greater proof of her guilt. We’re all standing around in the living room, and I meet Victoria’s gaze over Shea’s shoulder.
I don’t need a telepathic connection with Victoria to see that she doesn’t think any of this is actually going to work, but she’s going to try it anyway just to make Shea feel better, at least for a little while.
“Sure,” she says, patting Shea’s shoulder. “That sounds good! Let’s do it.” She smiles warmly at Shea, and this gesture of accepting what will likely be a complete waste of time, makes me love Victoria all the more.
The spells turn out to be highly involved. We all throw ourselves into it even though we know it’s not going to do any good. Only Shea seems confident at all. In a strange way, it still makes us feel better to chop and grind and burn candles and chant. There seem to be a million steps to the few spells Shea has put together. They also involve Victoria drinking a glass full of something that smells heinous on top of being a terrible muddy brown color. She swallows it, gagging a little. It’s the final spell and it’s supposed to “undo” the mark of The Saddle on Victoria. Theoretically, it would also remove the tracer, but we all agree that that spell would be immune to a reversal. The DMA would proof it against attempts to remove it.
Victoria ends up having to run to the bathroom to throw up more than once, and when she comes back she says feels better. I know she’s just trying to stay positive for Shea.
“Let’s see if the mark is still there,” Shea says, looking all too hopeful. We gather in the dining room again with all the spell supplies scattered across the table. Shea has a wand, although she says she’s not versed in wand magic and hardly uses it. She looks up the spell to reveal all magical marks cast on a person and waves her wand at Victoria, muttering the chant.
The mark of the tracer shows up on Victoria’s forehead but not the triangle of The Saddle.
