The whispering voice broke off into a cackle that faded into the distance, echoing as if spiraling down some endless tunnel.
We have her.
And we are going to hurrrrrrrrt her.
We have her.
We have her.
I couldn’t ignore the call. I couldn’t ignore the woman who I had to thank for bringing me to where I was today, the woman who had shown me the potential I had.
She sucked as a friend. Yes. Understatement of the year.
But I couldn’t leave her in the hands of those witches.
With my stomach up to my heart in fear, I changed course for Shira’s house.
I arrived at the massive gates and paid the cab driver. There was no one to be found. I typed in the code and walked down the long tree-surrounded driveway toward the mansion. Wind blew hints of dust through my eyes and hair.
It was quiet.
I banged on the massive door and got no response, used my key to open it myself.
The place was a wreck. It looked like a gang of thugs had ransacked it overnight. Wine on the marble floor, clothes strewn over the credenza. Broken vases. A white lace bra around the newel post. Champagne bottle shards, a broken mirror. Wind gusted in from the shattered window in the parlor.
Some of it had been my own work, but the rest had happened...afterwards.
I heard the moaning upstairs.
Adrenaline snatched me.
I ran up the stairs desperately, tripping once, calling out for her, calling her name frantically. “Shira! Shira! Where are you, Shira?”
I almost tripped on the top step, ran down the plush carpeting to her bedroom...where I heard the laughing, and a whole lot of groaning.
I took a deep breath before opening the door.
I expected to see sex, of course, an orgy. This was Shira and her friends after all.
But I hadn’t expected the drugs.
The scene was something out of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The men from yesterday were there—and so were the three other witches. Karolyna, the black-haired busty one with a penchant for toes; Lavoya, the redhead with eyes like a cat; and Talya, the jealous brunette in her fifties with no lack of hunger for the carnal arts.
There were chains, handcuffs (Karolyna’s ankle was cuffed to the bedpost while Jackson went down on her), champagne flutes on the ground, broken glass. Lavoya bled from her arm while Ronald gave her a massage. He stood behind the Victorian chair on which she sat, her legs open wide, her big toe in Karolyna’s mouth below her. Shira and Talya shared the bed with Jamie and Nolan. Nolan was on all fours across Shira. Her legs were underneath him, Jamie slamming into the man from behind. Nolan growled and groaned. Talya straddled Shira and faced the bent-over man, her ass to Shira’s face. She poured wax on Nolan’s back with one hand, and plied Shira between her legs with the other. Shira lay back, ensconced in a mountain of lush pillows, murmuring. There was blood on her nose, and white powder one her face. There was white powder on the night table as well, like flour had been dropped on it and wiped off hastily. Her eyes were bloodshot, lidded, swollen. She moaned and sniffed. Shira pumped her finger into Talya’s ass vigorously.
The powder.
“Oh, dahling, so glad you could come. Do join us,” Talya said, her older breasts bouncing madly as she thrust backwards against Shira’s hand. She dropped a line of wax onto Nolan’s back and he yowled in agony. “Come fucking join us, baby.” She sniffed. “You wouldn’t believe how good—Oh, yes, Shira honey. Oh fucking yes.” Talya took her hand from inside Shira, wiped her nose with the back of it. Sniffed again. She put her hand back down between Shira’s legs.
“Her weakness, darling,” Talya said. “Her weakness, right? It’s all our fucking weakness—but, deary, her weakness is lovely. Her weakness, after all, is not—Oh, gods that’s deep, Shira baby. Her weakness is not sex. Would you believe—would you believe her weakness...was you? Oh, yes. Put it in me, dear. Oh, yes.”
Shira continued to murmur, dazed in another world. “Mmmmmm, oh, mmmmmm, oh, mmmmmm, mmmmmm, oh, mmmmmm.”
“We threatened her, little child. Told her we’d kill you. Told her if she didn’t let you go, we’d hunt you down and fuck your brains out and then slit your throat. Want some more wax, Nolan?”
“You lie,” I said. I knew I was more powerful than all three of them together. And so did Shira.
Talya laughed, blushed. “Yes, I do lie. A smart one, aren’t you? But you are her weakness, darling. You are. Fancy stunt you pulled on her yesterday. Had fun? I’ve—Oh, FUCK, not so hard, Shira honey. Mmmmm—oh, yes, deeper, deeper. Where was I? Oh, yes—I’ve played that game. But I let them take me, the boys. We all have. Did you like the handcuffs?” Her fingers moved faster inside Shira’s pussy. “Shira, baby, gimme some more-a that blow, honey. Oh, gods, this is good shit. Oh, yes, deeper, honey. And gimme the blow. Give it—”
Shira’s hand moved to the side table like a zombie. She grabbed a bag, dropping some powder onto the ground and the bed. “Mmmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm.”
Talya moved her hand away again and grabbed the bag, blew the candle out and rested it on Nolan’s back. He screamed. Jamie kept slamming into him.
Talya dug a long fingernail into the bag, perfect size for a hit, and inhaled some of the white powder. She did it again. And a third time. The powder almost fell from her hand when she screamed, “OH, MOTHERFUCK, YEAH, GODDAMNIT!”
She dropped the powder. It must have been easily two keys in that bag. It fell in a cloud on the bed and Nolan inhaled the air, starting to smile. Talya’s hand thrust down again into Shira. Shira grimaced, flinched back...and Talya pumped her.
“The drugs,” I said, not really believing I was having a conversation with a woman being fingered in the behind. “She would have never taken the drugs. You tricked her.”
“Oh, yes, Shira. Oh, yes—”
“Answer me!” I screamed.
“Not I, dear love. Not I. I could never trick Shira. She was too smart. Was. Ha ha. She certainly was. She’s gone, honey. It’s the more powerful minds that this stuff affects the most. Plebs like me and the other girls, it’s no problem. But Shira. Have a good look at her. See how serene she is? She’s gone, love. Gone. Gone-gone-gone.”
Over on the right side, at the end of the bed, Jackson was now inside Karolyna. She had been uncuffed from the bed. I saw the bottoms of her heels as she screamed. Lavoya’s mouth was now wrapped around Ronald’s shaft, her toe still being sucked desperately by Karolyna while Jackson went postal inside her.
I remembered Shira’s words to me about the drugs: Your mind won’t deal with it. It’ll short-circuit. She had told me that other witches could handle it, but not I because my mind was more powerful, more sensitive. And looking at Shira now, I realized the same about her.
“Oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm,” Shira said.
“Shira,” I said meagerly. “Sh—Shira, don’t...don’t do this...” There were tears in my eyes. “Shira, please, you’ll ruin yourself.”
“Oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm.”
Groaning and screaming and moaning. Karolyna was on her hands and knees now, Jackson behind her, her tongue still on Lavoya’s feet.
“Oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm.”
Nolan: “OH, GOD, JAMIE, NOT SO FUCKING—URGH—OH, THAT HURTS.”
Lavoya: “Mmmmm, Ronnie wanna sucky-sucky, hmmmm? Mmmm, you taste sooooo good my wittle baby. Mmmmm. Let me lick you up and down. Gimme your balls, baby. Let me chew on them and teach you a lesson. Gimme that ass and I’ll put my finger in it for you. Mmmmmm.”
And Karloyna’s thoughts: Your toes...oh, gods, my mind, my mind, oh gods...the toes, the toes, the toes, such wonderful red, such wonderful flavor. Let me lick them clean and make them pretty pretty pretty pretty. Let me wipe them nice and lovely lovely lovely. Oh, and that cock in my ass—it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. Mmmmm, the lovely toes the lovely toes the lovely toes. Mmmmm.
They were fuck
ing mad.
All of them.
Mad as hatters.
Your mind won’t deal with it. It’ll short-circuit.
The other witches seemed to have short-circuited pretty darn good as well.
Pretty pretty pretty, and lovely lovely lovely.
“Oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm.”
I tried in vain to reach Shira using our channel. But she was gone. Completely gone.
“Why did you call me here?” I said to Talya. Shira was beyond rescuing. This was clear now.
Talya grinned, licked her finger. “We...admit—Oh, gods, yes. Hold on, Shira baby. Hold...” Talya got off of Shira. Shira’s hand dropped, and she looked up at nothing, constantly murmuring, “Oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm.”
Talya sat on the edge of the bed, sighed like a little girl. “We...admit...your powers,” she said. “It’s...possible...you have a high wattage inside you. None of us have ever beaten the boys when we asked them to force themselves on us, and all of us have tried. Oh, you missed out, honey. They are so delicious when they’re rough.”
“Get to the point,” I said.
She only said one word: “Jack.”
It felt like the roof had caved in.
“Wh—what?”
“Jack,” she repeated. “You know him.”
“J—Jack?”
“Yes, the demon? Oh, darn cuticles.” She bit one.
“You’re...fucking kidding me.”
“No.”
“That’s how you...”
“How we took Shira, yes.”
The rage roared inside me and I gathered my power—
“Uh-uh-uh! You wouldn’t want to do that,” Talya said, a finger in the air like a schoolteacher.
“Wh— Tell me!”
She smiled felinely. “He has her,” she said, gesturing with her eyes at Shira. “He has her in a world within a world within a world. It’s over for her, little Crystal. Unless...”
“What?”
“He wants...you.”
And she is my weakness, I realized. My friendship to her is my weakness. Just as I probably was for her when Jack got hold of her.
“There’s nothing more for you to see here, little child. Be nice. We’re friends of Jack as well. And if anything happens to us...”
Lightning crackled on my fingertips. The earth began to shake.
“Ooh, lovely. Lovely. No wonder he wants you so badly. You certainly are a wonder, aren’t you, little child?”
Talya bent to the ground and scooped up some C from the carpet with her big pinky fingernail. Sniffed it. “OH, FUCK, LET’S HAVE A PARTY!”
She straddled Shira again, stuck her ass out, picked up the candle from Nolan’s back. “Come on, Shira honey—stick it in me!”
“Oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm, oh, mmmm.”
I peeked inside Shira’s mind. It was a desolate wasteland. And it was open, completely open, no walls—nothing. Nothing at all. No memories. No...life.
“Oh, put that finger in my ass. Oh, yes. You like that in your pussy, Shira sweetie? Do you like my long nail inside you? Hmm? Hmm? Hmm!? Oh, Crystal—Crystal, sweetie, come over here and I’ll lick you lick you lick you.”
Pretty pretty pretty.
I felt mad-hat-loony-whacko-psycho-nuts in my own head just being in there, as if their own dithering lunacy was contagious.
I looked at Shira one more time, looking vacantly at nothing at all—“Oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm, oh, mmmmm”—and I knew there was nothing left for me to do. Nothing at all.
Not here at least. Not in this room.
I turned from them, heard their groans in the background as I walked away, the sounds ever fading, dying slowly. I made it downstairs, past the broken glass, past the lace bra on the newel post, past the shattered mirror and to the front door. Stepped out, closed it with a click.
I looked out over the green and majestic gardens. Looked back up at the enormous home.
Shira’s body was inside that house, but she wasn’t.
Shira was gone.
I will find you, Shira, I promised.
PART FOUR
~ Crystal ~
-21-
I had missed my bus to Marfa and would have to leave the next day.
Shira’s mind was not in this world, it was in an inner world, a dreamworld. Which one? I would have to find it.
I had never before tried what I was about to do, but I would try it now.
And I sensed it was the right thing to do.
I called up the lady I was lodging with and asked her if I could spend one more night. “You’ll have to pay a full week’s rent,” she said.
Of course.
I dumped my duffel bag...and tried to go to sleep.
I was out cold in less than a minute...
-22-
...I was falling. The sensation of knowing I would soon hit the floor sent plumes of nausea through my stomach. Kaleidoscope colors streamed passed me as if I were in some hundred-mile-long lava lamp from the sixties. The rush of wind dried out my eyes and lips.
And yet I fell. And fell.
And fell.
“Shira,” I called out, feeling the plummet of my body’s weight accelerating. “Shira!” And, back of that, in my mind: Luke.
I knew I needed him.
And I knew, I sensed, how to call him for this.
The walls of color changed to faded images; images of history and fantasy and...worlds. Hundreds and hundreds of worlds flashed by me in seconds, as if their time in history had been nothing more than that—seconds. Roman gladiators in the distance, Egyptian pharaohs, Greek philosophers, city walls, the Andrea Doria hitting the Stockholm in thick fog at sea, people screaming and drowning—and so I went, down, down, down through the blackness of the ocean and then even further down, beyond the turtles which held the world on their backs, the elephants, ancient knowledge, through walls of light and fire and smoke and color.
I was no longer sure if I was moving down or back or forward or up. I was simply...moving, perceiving the worlds passing by as if they were nothing but fragments of glass in some long gone life.
I fell for an eternity.
But, as it goes in dreams, it was over instantaneously.
I landed. Not with a thud. Not with a crash. Just...appeared. In the black of night. In some or other inner city that could be best described as a warzone gone bad—or a world after the war has ended.
The streets were all but deserted, the blacktop glowing from recent rain. No electric lights, a fire in a trashcan here and there. Shouts of men in the distance.
A gunshot. A male scream. A gurgle...
One of the hells, I thought. But I didn’t believe the thought.
The fetid air reeked of meat gone bad. A body, or what was left of it, lay across the sidewalk in the distance, a leg sprawled out over the blacktop. The other leg...nowhere to be found. A glass shattered somewhere. An alarm went off. And where are the police? I wondered.
Where is...civilization?
I realized now only that I was dead center in the middle of the road. But there were no cars, save for the three or four smashed into stores or simply abandoned.
I heard a squeaking, a rolling sound on my right. A moan. I turned and saw a man in a wheelchair holding his guts in his hands, looking up at me with dark, desperate eyes. His hand shivered while the long sliver of intestines poured out from him like endless snakes.
“Help me,” he moaned, stretching out the viscera toward me. “Help me, please. For the love of gods, help me!”
I ran.
More gunfire burst out over the distance; fire burned from a store whose sign read “N LI S DE ICA SEN,” most of the letters covered by red smudges or not there altogether because the glass had been broken. A child stood over a trashcan, vomiting, a smoking glock in his hand. He turned his head to me. It didn’t take him even a second to aim his weapon at me...
...and fire.
No!
My thought was as
the voice of a deity.
The bullet missed me. It didn’t stop or go past me or hit a special concrete wall that I suddenly put up. I had simply had the thought, No! and the bullet disappeared. Then it reappeared again behind me, and landed in the shoulder of a thug who fell back against a wall—
“You punk!” The thug pulled out his own gat, fired. The boy was hit in the head. It exploded into a mist of red and half of it was gone by the time he hit the floor.
My gods. My dear gods.
I ran further down the dark and littered street. Shouting, calling out Shira’s name, begging her to find me if she could. And Luke. If you’re here in this world so far below, I could use a hand. I ran past a hooker smoking a cigarette blithely while she leaned forward over an overflowing trashcan, her panties to her knees, her skirt hoicked up above her waist. The man thrusting into her from behind had a grimace of shining pain on his face, grabbing at her bruised and cellulite-ridden thighs while her jerks against the trashcan sent papers and coffee cups onto the ground. “I don’t got all day, sugarlumps,” she said. “Hurry up or pay up.” She took another drag of her cigarette, and the man howled as he obviously hit his climax finally.
Further down the metro street, the scent of sewerage, a body covered with red-stained newspaper leaning back against a wall, a gray hoodie over his head. Rats the size of dogs fought with each other over scraps of food. Most of the stores were closed, and those that were open had bars and grates covering the entrances, the dim flickering light of candles inside them. And eyes so afraid looking out from them that I wondered how long it would be before they’d charge me.
More gunfire behind me, a constant ratatatatatatat-BLAM that made me run faster. I stopped one bullet, but could I stop another?
“Shira! SHIRA! SHIRA!”
“Whadda-fuck you lookin foh, sister?”
I turned my head, saw a plus-size prostitute with a golden tank top which was torn on the side, puffing away on a smoke. Her left hand was on a generous lovehandle, her hair in a massive afro more fit for the seventies.
Her Mind Games: A Dark and Erotic Paranormal Romance Page 9
