by Stephy Smith
His masculine scent of sweet spice and freshly cut wood filled her senses. Thad’s dark brown hair curled around his earlobes and collected in ringlets resting on the collar of his baggy, belted shirt. His minty breath caressed her cheeks as he neared and faded when he pulled back. He continued teasing Greta with promises of undying love and a marriage they were destined to fulfill. He taunted her into his burning passion. This was their night to celebrate their supervised courtship granted by her family.
Greta no longer had to hide the secret crush she had on Thad. Since they were young, he had been a large part of her life. Now she was openly permitted to entertain the thoughts, dreams and love she had hoarded. Relief washed over her as she realized he too noticed the pull between them. Greta drew in a deep breath as she continued to satisfy the obsession to draw him into her life. To her delight, he was willing to share the intimacy with her in front of the clan, showing his approval of the marriage agreement their parents had arranged.
She closed her eyes and let the music sink into her soul. Gypsy men sat on barrels, stumps, and chairs with their instruments. She listened to each musical note as the musician’s fingers strummed the strings bringing forth the sensuous melodies. Greta swayed her hips from side to side. Slowly, passionately her long skirts caressed her legs. Her desire for Thad soaked into every part of her body. She raised her arms above her head. Concentrating on only him and the music, her smooth transitions changed easily from one enjoyable position to another. Teasing, reaching out to touch him with only her heart and soul.
Thaddeus Porter. She rolled his name over in her mind. Soon he would be hers, to love, hold and share her innermost secrets. Her life partner. She wondered if the elder women of the clan had set forth a love spell. Whatever had pulled them together, the dance at the fire bonded their souls. In two weeks, they would have their ceremony to celebrate their wedding.
When the music ended, her heart lurched to the pit of her stomach. She opened her eyes and gazed at the fire. One of the younger men in the clan tossed another log in. Bright orange sparks popped in the air until the log settled and burst into flames. The blood in her veins that had been engulfed by the night symphony had now died with the tempo. The calls of the wildlife harmonized in the background leaving a cold, lonely impression in the camp.
Her cheeks heated but only for a moment as she realized she had the right to display her emotions. The warmth from Thad’s nearness and the fire cooled as she moved away from both heat sources. The rest of the clan casually made their way to their vardos. Greta pulled in a deep breath as she glanced over to the crowd of young married couples. Their smiles twinkled in their eyes as they cuddled. Slowly the couples released their holds and made off to their wagons. Deep down inside her heart, she knew Thad was as taken by her as the newly-weds were by each other.
Shrinking flames drifted upward as if they too could feel the loss of the music. Tendrils of red and yellow blazes mixed and mingled to make love to one another as it seemed to beg for one last burst of energy. The passion of the fire turned magical, mystical. Warmth from the inferno had pulled Greta closer. She remembered stories from other women of how they danced their way into the grasps of its heat, pulling their husbands with them. Even her mother spoke of how her breath labored as her father came near. The smoke of burning wood flowed about them and settled in with the spicy aroma, just as it had tonight for Greta and Thad.
Greta pushed her way through the moving crowd. Her parents stood on the steps of their vardo. “Papa.” She waited for him to face her before she continued. “May I have permission to walk with Thad?”
Her heart picked up a pace as she watched her father’s brow furrow. His weatherworn face creased by years of working in the sun. He turned to his wife. “Do you think it would be acceptable for our daughter to have another unsupervised date with her young man?”
Greta held her breath. She had already made plans to walk with Thad to Cherished Silence. The seconds seemed to turn into hours. Finally her mother nodded and smiled. “You may go but only for a short time.” Greta’s parents disappeared through the open door of the family’s vardo.
Greta froze where she stood. A blurry vision played in her mind’s eye for a few seconds before it cleared. It was as if she fell and landed inside Cleo’s body. The warmth of Thad’s hand barely registered on her skin. Every step no longer mattered. She could no longer feel the ground beneath her bare feet. Thad’s words slurred. Everything she saw and felt became Cleo’s.
Why are you doing this to me? Greta screamed out, but the words were captive within her own skull. How could Cleo bring her in if she didn’t know she was doing it? Greta shook to dislodge the cobwebs loose. Still, she was stuck in Cleo’s world.
It wasn’t Cleo. It was the dark lady, Madonna. Greta struggled to pull away.
You need to see and feel to know what you and Doriya have done. This is only the beginning of your punishment. A chill ran down Greta’s spine as the raspy, evil voice echoed in her mind.
No! I won’t let you—
You have no say in the matter, now do you? Madonna’s cackle jarred her bones.
Greta wiggled and thrashed within herself. She didn’t want to know what Cleo was feeling or thinking. For some crazy reason, Madonna deemed it necessary to hold her captive in Cleo’s mind.
Cleo paced and twisted the material of her skirts. Her mumbles hummed in the area as she tried to remember a spell to cast upon Thad and Greta. Cleo snarled at the thought of the two lovers entwined in a vardo. It should be her and Thad.
A low cackle vibrated in Cleo’s throat. Greta may read fortunes, but she wouldn’t look into her own life with Thad. When Greta read Cleo’s fortune, she told her a mysterious dark force would come into her life. That was when they were twelve, long before she met Robert Ray and Madonna. Now Cleo knew it had to be Robert Ray Greta had spoken of. There was nothing mysterious about Garland, and she had known him as long as she had known Greta and Thad.
She blew out a sigh of relief when Robert walked into the clearing. His clothes were clean, and his hair smoothed down. There was a twinkle in his eyes as if he were happy to see her. Her heart picked up a pace. If her plan didn’t work, she thought she could learn to care for the gaje, even learn to tolerate his touch if it was repulsive. But first, she had to find out just how he would make her feel.
Greta fought to get out of Cleo. She tried to take a step back away from the gaje as Cleo planned to find out what he would feel like.
Robert didn’t stop until he stood before her. He placed the rifle against a tree trunk. Cleo stepped closer. As she stood on her tiptoes, she raised her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. The warmth of his body touching hers sent tingles down to her toes. His breath caressed her cheek. Then he moved his lips across hers.
Greta cringed. Cleo had not only defiled her own body but Greta’s. The bile rose in Greta’s throat as the gaje’s lips touched Cleo. Cleo’s desire twisted Greta’s stomach. She tried to push him away, but Cleo stayed fixed to the non-gypsy.
His kiss started out soft and then deepened to sultry as he pulled her into him. A dark, untamed desire ran rampant within her soul. He ran a calloused hand down the hollow of her neck. She shivered at his touch. Cleo wondered if this was the way all women felt when a man touched them.
She pushed him away from her, letting her hands run down his arms where she held him at arms’ length. The strange sensation from his nearness surprised her. Her words caught in her throat, and then she finally whispered, “It’s nice to see you, Robert.”
“I must say, that was a welcomed surprise. I never thought I would be kissed by a beautiful gypsy. Especially one of such refine as you possess, my dear Cleo.” Goose bumps raised on her skin as she listened to his deep voice.
“We must hurry. The dance will be ending soon. I want you familiar with the face of the target.” She reached for the rifle and lifted it. Raising it, Cleo waited for him to take the gun from her. He held it close to h
is side. If he shot Greta, she would make sure he got all of her possessions since the gypsies aren’t allowed to keep mementos of their deceased clan members. Then she would be free to pursue Thad after the mourning period was lifted. To have a white magic witch join the Black Magic Coven would gain her notoriety amongst the group. Maybe even the position of high priestess.
Cleo pulled on Robert’s hand and led him through the tangled underbrush. They walked slowly until they reached the edge of the tree line next to the vardos. She squatted down pulling him with her. When she lifted her finger to her lips, Robert nodded his head. They sat in silence until the music stopped.
Laughter and low voices called to children as the families strolled to their vardos. One by one, each wagon cast soft light through the shuttered windows. Drawing in her breath, Cleo waited until she caught a glimpse of Greta. Her blood ran hot through her veins.
Greta fought against the thoughts running through Cleo’s mind. There was so much hate and anger muddled together Greta couldn’t reach through to stop Cleo.
Without thinking, she snatched the rifle from Robert, and barely taking aim, she pulled the trigger. Thad fell to the ground pulling Greta with him. Cleo’s heart thumped against her ribs.
Robert’s strong hand grasped her arm. He pulled her away from the edge of the forest and back toward the clearing. Cleo followed along in a daze. Underbrush slapped across her legs as she ran behind him.
The gasp echoed in Greta’s mind. She couldn’t believe what had just happened.
When they were in the clearing, Robert grasped her shoulders. “We have to hide.” His voice was a whisper. She nodded, and he took her hand again. He led her down the path he came in on and tucked her under a tall tree surrounded by a berry bush.
Hurried footsteps neared the hiding place. Rustling of tree branches and loud pops of twigs from the searching clan rattled her mind. Torch light cast shadows upon the darkened floor of the forest. Her breath caught in her throat when a couple of men stopped in front of them. The familiar sound of her father’s voice echoed through his cupped hands as he called everyone back to camp. Cleo buried her face into Robert’s thick arms until she heard the footsteps shuffle away.
Greta screamed out, pulling her from Cleo’s mind. The pain was unbearable. She slumped to the cold, hard earth. Darkness took over.
Chapter Seven
Thad couldn’t pull his eyes from Greta. The curves of her luscious body beckoned him to join her in the dance of courtship and acceptance. As he made his way to her side, he was compelled to prove his desire and need for the woman who would soon become his wife. Her tantalizing moves reeled him in until he regained his will power to pull away from her luscious body. Two weeks wasn’t that long when it pertained to work, but it seemed like years when it involved uniting with the woman he loved.
The dance shook him with unbound admiration. His heart, body, and soul yearned for more than what he was permitted to take. The heat of her body sparked his passion. Desire plunged the depths of his undying emotions. His hands tingled as he held them mere inches from her, tracing her shape with only the heat flowing between them. Thad swallowed a moan and then pulled in a deep breath.
From the time they were toddlers, there was a weird and wonderful attraction to her. He couldn’t quite explain how or when it happened. All he knew, it had developed from a childhood infatuation into a mature healthy love sometime during their early teen years. For many nights, he had prayed she was his chosen one. At her parents’ announcement his knees grew weak. Silently he sent his gratitude to his maker. Tears of joy burned his eyes, even though he didn’t let them fall. His jaws became fixed and sore with the smile on his face.
Relief washed over him. He no longer had to speculate who his life mate would be. At the time, he couldn’t remember the feel of the ground beneath his feet. He was sure he had floated on a cloud until the news settled into his mind and became a reality.
Tonight as he joined her in the dance, he no longer had to fight the blazing inferno burning within him. She pulled him into her golden gaze. Her power was so strong no one on earth could rip it from him. He had no control over his own actions or his emotions. His spirit pulsed with each sway of her hips. Her black hair glistened with the gold coins as she shimmied her way deeper into his soul.
Thad’s mind drifted back to the river where Greta was doing laundry. She was so beautiful when she slept under the brush. Her hair mussed, her clothing caked with debris. He pulled in a deep breath. Every muscle in his body tightened with the need to have her in his arms. His lips quivered with a desperate need to kiss her full lips. Goose bumps spread across his skin as he was ready to share a love so deep that even the gypsy curse couldn’t end it. He was ready to take the leap into marriage although it scared him. How could one, tiny woman reign over his emotions the way she did? Her laughter brought life to the vardo caravan.
He spent his days working wood into fascinating creations, but his nights filled with dreams of Greta lying next to him. Shivers ran down his spine at the thought of her coddling him as if he were a baby dependent upon the nourishment that only she could provide.
However, right now he had the satisfaction of making promises to her through the actions of his body. His hands tingled with ravenous want and desire to touch her skin. With the audience of the clan as they danced, he had to resist the temptation. The closer he got to her, the harder it was to deny himself the pleasure of her warmth. His fierce needs were held at bay, while his inner self reacted with painful delight. Greta’s eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, tempting him to taste her mouth. He swallowed the lump caught is his throat. His pulse beat against the collar of his shirt.
Greta whirled around; her hair smelled of wild berries as she shimmied near him. The music and the woman were the only things that filled his world. He knew the music would stop, but the woman, and the memory of the night, would linger in his mind for the rest of his days.
The music faded at the end of the celebration. The camp seemed cold and lonely. Thad watched Greta as she stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to her parents’ vardo. She had to get permission from her parents, so they could walk down the forest trail to Cherished Silence. In the clearing not far off the beaten path, they could spend time in each other’s arms. It would only be for a short time. But Thad couldn’t betray his own heart by passing up another chance to nourish his growing love for Greta.
After that, he would make his way back to the vardo. His soul would be empty, lifeless until morning when he could gaze upon her face and let her beauty dominate his every breath just like it had the night before.
The gunshot echoed down the path. A searing pain ripped through his shoulder. He staggered to the side as darkness threatened to enclose him. He reached for Greta. She caught him and fell to his side with her arms around him. Greta pulled him to her chest, cradling him in her embrace. Her hot tears descended upon his cheeks.
Rapid footsteps neared. The familiar voices surrounded him as the clan gathered around. Twigs and branches snapped as men split off from the crowd and pushed their way into the underbrush of the forest. He knew they were searching for the shooter. A few of the elders stayed behind with the women, shouting out orders to gather the children and make torches to light up the forest.
Calloused hands raked across his skin from the men carrying him to the vardo. The rustle of the women gathering the children now drowned out the screams and cries as the crowd scattered to do the elders’ bidding. His worst nightmares had come true. The clan had been discovered by the gaje. Bile rose in his throat. Even though it was two weeks before Greta was officially his, he felt responsible for her.
He tried to free himself from the grasp of the men taking him to safety. Weakness spread through his body as he reached out for Greta. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t see her. She was somewhere near. He could smell the mix of wild berries from her hair.
“Greta!” His voice sounded weak and uneven. The pounding in his c
hest picked up a beat. He had to know she was unharmed. His eyes filled with moisture. Darkness pulled him into its clutches before he got an answer.
Chapter Eight
Blood-soaked and weary, Greta sank back against the inside wall of the wagon. Her name was the last thing she heard cross Thad’s lips. She closed her eyes and listened to the rumbles of wails and prayers sent to the healing gods and goddesses. The whole scene of what happened haunted her mind. She thought she saw movement in the underbrush of the forest right before the gun blast. However, Thad’s gaze did not allow her to break the connection. Not until the orange flash from the barrel of the gun did she realize they had been under the scrutiny of an enemy. All their lives they were taught to be aware of the gaje. Non-gypsies constantly threatened the clan.
The terrifying experience of being held captive inside Cleo’s mind by the black magic witch twisted Greta’s gut. Bile rose in her throat. Knowing the evilness Madonna made Cleo inflict upon her and Thad played out over again in Greta’s mind. Helplessness and guilt to break free of the bond scared the life out of her.
From what she saw, it wasn’t the gaje who shot Thad. It was one of their own. If she told the clan about Cleo, she didn’t know if the people would believe her. For the one she saw commit the horrid crime was the daughter of a man who held high respect in the circle of the clan. What she didn’t know was why Cleo grabbed the rifle and shot Thad. A shiver ran down her spine.
With sheer determination, she would draw Cleo and Madonna out in front of the clan. But as a groan rumbled in Thad’s chest. Her main concern now was to keep him safe and help him heal.
She would keep a close eye on Cleo when she was tending her chores or learning her trade. Greta would have to get enough proof to show the clan before she could voice her suspicions. In order to do that, she would have to have Thad at her side to vouch for her.
