The Devil's Russian Beauty

by Ana Lee Kennedy

  “That’s a wise idea,” her mom stated, nodding sagely. “Once you have one or more kids, your life is all about them. Right down to you not having time to comb your hair or brush your teeth because they keep you so busy and worn out.” She chortled again, then blew raspberries at Jasmine, who giggled happily. “Do what you need to do first, Bernadette, then focus on having children.” She smiled softly at Jasmine. “But I can’t wait to have grandbabies.”

  “Love you, Mom,” Bernadette said, waving with her free hand.

  “Have fun at the party,” her mother called after her. “This ol’ girl has had enough fun for one day. Happy Halloween!”

  Bernadette dropped the baby off with her mother, who thanked her several times for taking Jasmine around, then Bernadette hurried to catch up with Puppy and Callie May as they began the trek back to the MC. Tom saw her and jogged to accompany her up the hill.

  “Thanks, Tom,” she said.

  “No problem.”

  “After all that,” Callie May said tiredly, “I don’t know if I have the energy to party with the big kids.”

  Puppy laughed and Bernadette joined in. Tom’s rich chuckles melded with theirs.

  When they finally reached the top of the hill and began approaching the carport, Bernadette spotted a familiar figure and her heart sank. If Scary Mary was waiting for her, then she had something important to discuss with Bernadette.

  “I’ll be right inside on the sunporch,” Tom told her. “If you need me, holler.”

  Puppy and Callie May both cast dubious glances at first Mary, then Bernadette but said nothing as they followed Tom inside.

  “What’s wrong?” Bernadette asked, pulling Mary away from the door so others could enter.

  “Humph, just because I show up, you think something is wrong.” The busty woman rolled her eyes, then straightened her heavy cloak before slipping her strong, brown hands through the arm slits and folding them across her middle.

  The woman’s mock outrage forced a smile to Bernadette’s lips, but she hid it before Mary knew she was on to her. “You have yet to come all the way up here to the MC without something on your mind or a message to give me,” Bernadette said.

  A huge grin broke out on Mary’s face, her perfect teeth stark against her skin. “You got me there, child.” She laughed and slapped a massive thigh. “But you’re right. Something is wrong. My runes are talking of comeuppance and your name keeps coming up, as does Phil Andrews’. And I sense magic from another source, but I can’t figure out who it is.”

  Frowning, Bernadette asked, “Seriously? You have no idea?”

  The woman shook her head vigorously, her salt-and-pepper locs whipping to and fro. “No idea, but I can say that it’s a woman, a good woman. She’s not quite as powerful as you are—yet—but I think she’ll be a big help to you in a time of need.”

  Trepidation slithered through Bernadette. “Do you think the bad part of what the runes told you is tied to Ezra Smith?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Shit.” She swept her gaze over the surrounding area, expecting to see a blond man appear out of the shadows. “How do we defend ourselves?”

  Her mentor handed her a piece of paper. “Use this spell. Write it down in your grimoire under protection spells. When everything about this situation is over, make sure you update the information for the type of demon Ezra is and how well the spell worked, plus any other details you notice along the way. Such notes may prove very helpful for future problems.”

  “Thank you, Mary. You know you’re aces, right?”

  “Of course I do.” The witch beamed at her and batted her eyelashes. “I’m one mean mama jamma, remember?”

  Bernadette giggled at her friend’s silliness, then, on impulse, she stepped up to her and hugged her. At first, Mary stiffened, but within seconds, she relaxed and hugged Bernadette back, patting her soundly over her shoulder blades.

  When Bernadette released her, a deep red infused Mary’s cheeks, but Bernadette pretended not to notice the woman’s awkwardness.

  “You’re a good woman, Bernadette,” Mary stated, her voice a bit higher-pitched than usual. “You’re like one of my children. Stay safe.” She waggled a thick, crooked index finger at her. “Watch for unexpected alliances and be open-minded about them. And use your head, child. No rash decisions. After all, this is the one night of the year where the veil between the worlds is the thinnest. Anything might come through it.”

  “I will, Mary.”

  “Good.” She ambled away, heading toward the back lawn, her cloak swirling around her hiking boots. “Happy All Hallows’ Eve!” she yelled over her shoulder as she vanished into the darkness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After Bernadette donned her costume of a sexy Martian woman, right down to smearing green face paint over her face and other exposed areas of skin, she fixed her hair so it cascaded in curls around her shoulders, the rich auburn contrasting wickedly with the green. She slipped on antennae, hiding the band in her hair and twisted the green glitter balls on the ends so they began blinking. A green, sparkly belly band hung loosely around her trim waist, where it dazzled the eye. The silver top hugged her ample Ds, and the matching short skirt and shiny silver go-go-style boots gave her the appearance of having longer, slimmer legs. Not that she was overweight by any means, but when stacked like she was, the illusion of height didn’t hurt, either. Confident that she’d stun her man, leaving him speechless and promising a night of wild, hot sex, she headed downstairs where someone had already begun to feed CDs into the stereo. The bass vibrated the house.

  At the bottom of the staircase, Bernadette took a moment to peek through the dining room doorway, then into the family room, where she found Frank. When she walked in, Beastman elbowed him, then pointed. Frank turned. His eyes widened, mouth falling open. Shocked, he dropped his cup, splashing his drink across the carpet.

  “Oh for the love of…” Luella, made up like a big spider complete with legs that wavered in every direction, hurried across the room with napkins from a snack table and dabbed up the whiskey.

  Smirking, Bernadette performed her best catwalk strut toward her man.

  Whistles and cat-calls echoed in the room. Beastman stared at her too, until Luella smacked him across his chest with the wet napkins.

  “Damn it, woman,” he snarled. “You got booze on my breastplate.”

  “Behave yourself,” she countered, “or I’ll feed my gladiator to the lions.”

  Several of the prospects standing nearby chuckled at that. Bernadette had to grin too.

  “Holy fuck,” Frank said, drawing her attention back to him. “Green and silver are definitely your colors.”

  “Thank you, babe.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Are you making promises?”

  “Damn straight. Promises I intend to keep.”

  “Get a room!” someone yelled.

  Laughing, Bernadette snuggled into his side.

  “What would you like to drink?” Beastman asked. “I’ll make you something.”

  “Spiced rum and cola?” she said.

  “Coming right up.”

  She admired the costumes and checked every person who entered. So far, she recognized all the faces, right down to the newest sweetbutts, Kiki, Erica, and the third whose name always escaped her. All three wore revealing devil-girl outfits right down to horn bands in their hair and little red pitchforks.

  Puppy, in the costume of the Snow White queen in hag form, sat next to Callie May, who boasted a frightening getup of a slasher nurse complete with latex wounds and fake blood.

  “Flying Purple People Eater” poured from the sound system. The three sexy devil-girl sweetbutts led a few of the other sweetbutts in a silly, gyrating dance to the music, and everyone burst out laughing.

  “You seem on edge, babe,” Frank said.

  She relayed her encounter with Scary Mary.

  “Great. Just what we need.” He knocked back a replacement drink. “Maybe the night w
ill pass without incident.”

  “And maybe it won’t,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Her power, suddenly simmering under her skin, covered her entire body, the sensation like pinpricks. Somewhere, someone here wasn’t who they professed to be. Magic hung in the air…dark magic.

  * * *

  By 11:00 p.m., Daffodil had had enough. Although she’d been having fun, she just wanted to go back to the cabin with Phil, snuggle with him on the sunporch while a fire crackled in the pot-bellied stove, and listen to the wind howl around the house as they told each other things about their lives.

  Her gaze landed yet again on Bernadette. She didn’t understand why, but something about the woman spoke to her, as if they had to come together to do something important. She shook off the notion, but it returned stronger each time. Her friend looked stunning in her Martian costume, but as the evening wore on, she seemed to grow more nervous and tired.

  “What’s on your mind, Daffodil?” Phillip asked as he handed her a pig in a blanket.

  “I’m ready to go home,” she said. “I’ve had enough and just want to go spend some time with you before we crawl into bed.”

  “Sounds like a great plan,” he said, then popped a potato chip into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he followed her gaze to Bernadette. “She looks tired, doesn’t she?”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” Daffodil frowned. “I hope she’s okay. I’m going to tell her and Luella good night, then we can leave.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  She approached Luella first, gave her a hug, then walked over to Bernadette.

  “Are you going home?” Bernadette asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, after years of partying hard, these things tend to zap me now.” She met Bernadette’s eyes, the green of them not as vivid as usual. “You okay?”

  “Just on edge.”

  Daffodil took Bernadette’s hands into her own. A zing shot up her arms, and they both jumped.

  “What was that?” Daffodil asked.

  “I have no idea,” Bernadette replied. “Static electricity, maybe?”

  Nodding, Daffodil smiled and bid her good night. She couldn’t wait to get home.

  Home. What a beautiful word. On the sunporch, she waited as Phillip retrieved her shawl. It was too cold to really wear it for warmth, but the pickup would heat up quickly. The colors and beads looked great with her ice queen dress, and besides, it would be the last time she got to wear the shawl until next year.

  “Ready, baby doll?” Phillip asked.

  She smiled. “Ready.”

  * * *

  Phil kept his attention on their surroundings as Daffodil clambered into his Dodge and slammed the door. Music pulsed from the MC, but wind’s howls and whines around the Victorian and the surrounding barns and outbuildings overpowered the thrumming bass. The wind had grown steadily stronger since the night before, the weather forecasts stating that some gusts were upward of 60 miles per hour. He stood on the carport, tipped his head back and inhaled a lungful of crisp, wintry air. Snow was coming. There was no doubt about that. There was something else on the wind that his beast detected, only he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  He started to walk around the front end of his truck, but a noise, one that sounded like a man’s deep laugh from a distance, halted Phil in his tracks. What the fuck? Had he really heard that? He listened for a long moment, the blustery weather chilling him through his leather coat and his swashbuckler costume. Dry leaves skittered across the concrete and tumbled around his feet, the papery sound giving him images of huge spiders on their way to spin their silken threads over him. He shook off the Halloween fancies and met Daffodil’s gaze through the windshield, her expression bewildered and worry in her eyes.

  She was already scared enough as it was, so he moved on around to his driver’s door and hopped in behind the steering wheel.

  “You acted like you saw or heard something,” Daffodil stated, her voice tiny.

  He could lie and say there was nothing wrong, but even though he knew no one was outside with them, somehow there was. He’d heard the laugh, even identified it as male. “Just thought I heard someone, but I guess it was sounds coming from the house.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He thought about it a moment. “Mostly sure. The wind distorts sound, so maybe a gust was funneling through the barn eaves and it just sounded like a person.”

  She seemed to accept his theory, and he started the truck. He hoped his senses were wrong, but he knew they seldom were.

  * * *

  At the cabin, Phil changed on the sunporch and put his costume back in the garment bag as Daffodil removed her ice queen ensemble in the bedroom. Back in warm clothes, even opting for soft lounge pants and a simple pocket T, he set to work stoking the fire in the little stove.

  A shadow fell over him. He looked over his shoulder to find Daffodil.

  “Do you think we have enough groceries for a few days?” he asked. “After $300, it still doesn’t seem like there’s much in the fridge or the cupboards.”

  “I thought the same,” she answered. “We could use more meat, and it doesn’t seem like you have any condiments in the kitchen except ketchup.”

  “Well, I don’t have to work tomorrow, so we can go back out again, maybe pick up anything you would like such as nail polishes, some makeup or whatever else you want or need.”

  “Phillip, you shouldn’t spend money on me like that.”

  “Why not? It’s just been me for years, and the only bills I have are my truck payment and insurance on it.”

  “We’ll see.” She trailed her fingers over his shoulders as she swept past him to the sofa.

  “You seem like there’s something on your mind,” he stated, then reached for the poker.

  “Just something…strange.”

  He didn’t need to turn around to hear the awe in her voice. “Strange how?”

  “When I took Bernadette’s hands in mine, we were zapped by something. She said it was probably static electricity, but it didn’t feel that way to me.”

  “What do you think it was?” He jabbed at the hot coals.

  “It felt like…well, power.”

  “Power?” He didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking.

  “Magic has a different feel to it,” she explained. The sofa springs creaked, and air wafted over him, so he knew she’d shaken out the afghan to spread over herself. “I know this because of dealing with Ezra, but this was a totally different type of power.”

  “Bernadette is a witch,” he pointed out.

  “I’d thought of that, but it surprised her as much as it did me, so I don’t think she was the sole cause of it.”

  He shut the little cast-iron door and stood to face her. “Do you think some of the”—he gestured, unable to define what the women might have experienced—“whatever it was, came from you?”

  Shrugging, she gazed up at him. “I really don’t know, but it sure was weird.” She pointed to the small flat-screen TV on a stand opposite the sofa. “I see you moved the TV from the bedroom to here. Does it have satellite connection?”

  “No, but we can watch DVDs.”

  “Sounds nice. I love it out here on the sunporch, but right now, I’d rather just sit and talk.”

  He nodded and sat next to her, drawing her into his arms. “Works for me. It’s too late to start a movie anyway.”

  “I love you so much, Phillip,” Daffodil said, her voice full of emotion. “I hope the test results are back on Monday.”

  “Don’t worry, baby doll.” He stroked the fingers of one hand back and forth over her bare upper arm. “I bet you’ll have them then. Besides, you know I love you right back, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, because there’s more to a relationship than sex.”

  “I know, but this constant craving for you is driving me crazy.” She sighed in frustration. “Luella and Bernadette explained why it’s
so strong, but still…”

  “Trust me, I understand.”

  He leaned over to kiss her temple, but at the same time, she turned her head to look at him and his kiss landed at the corner of her mouth instead. Laughing softly, Daffodil cupped one side of his face and kissed him fully on the mouth. The lust that rose in Phil from that simple action stunned him. He shifted, bearing her to the side, then down along the length of the couch so that she lay flat on her back. His attention went from kissing her luscious mouth to moving his lips down the side of her neck, then into the V of her loose-fitting pajama top. He pulled the afghan aside, letting it fall to the floor, then drew her shirt up over her belly to her chest, revealing her bare breasts. He paused to admire them, their size and firmness just the way Phil liked, the nipples dark pink and already hardening. Before she could protest, he dropped his head and latched on to the left nipple.

  “Oh!” Daffodil arched under him. “Phillip!”

  She ran her hands down his back, dragging her nails over the thin material of his shirt. He growled and sucked harder on the pert nub in his mouth.

  “Phillip!”

  Her cries spurred him onward. Phil ground his hips into hers, wanting desperately to bury his cock as deeply into her as possible. He switched to the other breast and delivered the same tongue action to it. Daffodil writhed under him, ripping at his shirt until she had it up around his neck. He stopped only long enough to finish shrugging out of it, and it too landed on the floor. She’d taken her top off and lay naked from the waist up, waiting for him. Phil took a few seconds to soak up the beauty of her, his tall, leggy Russian Daffodil. What an incredible woman, a woman who had overcome so much and was on a new path for a great life. It humbled him that she had chosen him to be a part of it.

  “Come here, handsome,” she said with a kittenish smile.

  He let her guide him by his shoulders as she tipped her head up slightly to meet him in a kiss. As their lips met, a tiny spark popped between them. She gasped, then giggled, but that snap shot straight to his groin. He captured her lips, plunging his tongue past them, and ground his cock against her, wishing for release, even if it was to come in his briefs. The need to be one with her had gone from frustrating to downright excruciating. She tasted of the tropical drink mix he’d fixed her earlier that evening, the banana and coconut flavors heightening the sweetness of her mouth. Fuck, he could claim her right now without a second thought, ravage her until he fucked her into the sofa cushions.