Angelique...
I felt every one of Vincent's thrusts full force, my bodybuilding towards an orgasm to remember. I also felt the act of thrusting into Alexandros as a distant echo, her body twitching as her own orgasm built.
Angelique...
I looked into my lover's eyes as I erupted into her, and saw the energy that modern me knew oh so well. I saw Angelique looking at me as I climaxed, both then and in the present day.
The fury of the orgasm was one for the ages. As I held my boyfriend, my lover, in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the memory of her touch.
* * *
I awoke early the next morning and dressed quickly. I searched a moment for the perfect outfit, then happened upon a more recent acquisition.
Hmm... why not?
I chugged a bottled frappucino on my way through the kitchen. I didn't pause to eat anything... I wasn't really hungry, and the energy boost would launch me on my way.
The morning air was crisp and danced over my skin as I started on my new preferred trail through the woods. This one was a little more sparse, allowing more sunlight for warmth as autumn took its hold. It also went nowhere near the new mystery lake, which I had reluctantly agreed to avoid when alone for the sake of my friend's collective nerves. I heard the last few crickets quiet down as I plunged into the underbrush.
I was grateful for the unique design of my current outfit. It looked like a thin flowing skirt but was actually loose-fitting pants. They allowed for maximum mobility while not abandoning my usual aesthetic. Their copper-brown color-scheme also let me blend into the forest at will.
I felt... good. For the first time in a while, to be honest. The whole idea of the 'settling' had made me, well, unsettled. The idea that I had it in me to go bad somehow rocked me to my very foundation. This morning, however, I had decided to avoid accidentally falling into a bad path by consciously doing good.
I've been passive for far too much of my life I thought. I always feel better when I'm proactive, so... let's pro-act!
I wasn't sure how much remembering my past as Angelique/Anelandros' personal hero had to do with it, but I wouldn't deny that it at least played a part.
I must have healed over thirty plants that morning alone. It came so easy now, I almost didn't have to stop walking anymore. Evil beings kill stuff I justified silently, So good beings give life, right?
I exited the woods in the playground again, but farther down. I found myself once again behind the restrooms, a drab cinder-block building hugging the treeline. I stopped and listened to see if anyone was around.
“Get up, you fucking terrorist!”
I guess someone's around... I thought with a sigh. I edged towards the harsh voice I had just heard and peered around the corner of the building.
There were three of them, standing in a rough triangle around a figure huddled on the ground. They were older than the last bunch, high school age at least, but the cowering figure looked to be no older than thirteen. He was of Arab descent, and looked at his tormentors with fear.
“I said get up!” one said with a kick to the smaller boy's leg. “Can't you understand fucking English?” The bully had scruffy blonde hair that stuck out at odd intervals from the bottom of a stocking cap, a messy frame for the look of disgust and hatred etched on his face.
Another bully, this one with a buzz cut bared to the cold, grunted to his leader. “He probably lost his hearing making bombs in his basement!”
The third one, noticeably shorter than the other two, cackled in agreement. “Fucking towel-headed pansy!” he spat out.
I felt my blood begin to boil. I hated bullies and racists equally, and racist bullies really lit my fuse. I closed my eyes and sent out a silent call.
The first bully to notice swatted at something near his left ear. His annoyance turned to pain as the first stinger found it's mark.
“Ow!” Buzz-cut slapped his neck as the other two started swatting the air around them. One by one the darting black shapes increased in number until each bully was in their own cloud of wasps.
Their victim looked on in wonder as his tormentors took off running, trying to escape but failing, their cries of pain getting more and more distant as they ran out of sight. Smiling, I surveyed my handiwork with pride.
“Kinda mean, don't you think?”
I turned around to see a very naked Toby standing in the nearby treeline. He looked bored as he inspected his freshly recreated human fingers.
I was happy to see him. Ever since he had discovered that he was a changeling, a half-human half-Fae being that could effortlessly transform into an animal, he had been scarce in my life. I understood, however. He had been trying to adjust to this new existence ever since he had first changed the past year, and it hadn't been going easily.
I still had to give him shit, however. “You once said that my fashion was chastity-inducing, and you're calling me mean, mister Toby?”
He grinned. “Touche, but don’t call me ‘Toby’. I’m ‘Starr’ now”
“Noted.” I said, nodding.
“But really, wasps?” he continued. "Aren't they the blue-veined prick of the animal kingdom?"
"Bullies are the blue-veined prick of the human species." I replied with a shrug. "Like attracts like, and so on."
“Oooh, kitten's got claws, no?” He gave me a playful swipe as I passed by him. Giggling, he fell into step beside me as I walked back to the house.
“So, you seem to be doing better.” I said.
“Only by the most liberal definition of 'better'.”
“You're able to stay in your human form longer, right?”
“Well, the time can be measured in double digits, but it's still only minutes.”
“So that's why you don't carry clothes.”
"Right! I mean, why look like a cat with a backpack when I have such little need for clothes in the total percent of the day?"
“Sounds right to me.”
We walked for a little more before he stopped, looking at the sun poking through the trees. A bright spot of light illuminated his face, and he closed his eyes. The light glinted off of the black and white markings in his hair that copied his fur when in cat form.
“I love the warmth when there's no fur in the way.” he said wistfully. “But I feel it growing closer, my inevitable reversion to a feline.”
I wanted so much to help him! He had turned to me in a time of need almost a year before, and we had hardly gotten a chance to know each other before his Fae blood kicked in and made him spend much of his time in animal form. If he could spend some time in the Fae lands he might stand a chance of learning to control things, but the Fae forbade their kind to mate with humans and banned their offspring from ever entering their realm.
An idea, origin unknown, entered my head. “Can I try something?” I asked, my hands held up as if to say yes, I'm talking about magick.
He looked at me warily. I couldn't blame him, in that his animal shape was the end result of his human form not being able to handle the Fae magick that was a heritage of his non-human side. “Does it involve any strange drugs or potions?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, I'll let you try it anyway.” he sighed, trying to sound disappointed.
I placed my hands on either side of his head and closed my eyes. I could immediately feel the Fae energy, which I saw as a purple mist, slowly rising. I could also see his human energy pushing back against it.
“That purple fog is a bitch.” he said cattily.
“Let me show you something.” I replied, grinning.
I reached with my senses through him to the ground and started drawing pure white light from the Earth up into his body. The Fae energy, under assault from both sides, slowly started to weaken and fade. Soon it was gone entirely, even though I knew that it would return.
I opened my eyes and saw Starr's face, beaming, looking back at me.
“That was seriously brilliant!” he said, wonder in his voice. “C
an you teach me to do that?”
“I can give it a shot.” I replied, my smile matching his own.
“I think I'm going to use some clothes now.”
“That's not a bad idea.”
* * *
I set Starr up in a spare bedroom where he could practice his meditation while I tried to rustle up some clothing for him. He said that he might take a literal cat nap, so I threw an extra fluffy blanket over the bed to make it a suitable cat nest and shut the door to give him some privacy.
I was looking through one of Angelique's many stashes of wardrobes she had accumulated through the centuries when Evelyn Hawkins walked in the room.
“Hey there!” I greeted her.
“Hello.” She replied. She looked around at the copious number of chests lining the walls, each stuffed with clothes of various eras and styles. “Are all of these filled with clothes?”
“Yes, and this is only about ten percent of the collection housed here. Other locations have even bigger stashes.”
“And Trevor tries to accuse me of being a clothes horse!” she said, rolling her eyes.
I smiled. “I've heard that Angelique's really bad, and she's had sixteen centuries to accumulate stuff!”
I would have said that Angelique definitely had something for her, but I had no idea just what Evelyn's 'off the clock' fashion sense was. I had only seen her in her self-described 'work clothes', a skin-tight leather bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination when it came to her curvy figure. Her long blonde hair was in its usual ponytail, and her boots were just as snug as her clothing. The only thing missing from her being mistaken for a dominatrix from a bad Hollywood movie was the fact that her boots were flat, with no tall heels. "Only stunt twats fight in heels!" she had already proclaimed in her brief tenure at the mansion.
Jack had tried to flirt with her in his usual nerdy manner their first night here, of course, but quickly gave up when she announced that she was into women exclusively. Her body looked a little like Angelique's when I knew her in Ancient Greece, and I could see why she probably didn't lack for dates.
“I wanted to thank you,” I said, breaking the silence, “you and your brother, for coming out to lend us a hand. It's looking like we'll need all of the help we can get.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, looking a little uneasy, “ about that. I mean, we're happy to help, but... we didn't volunteer. We were hired.”
“Hired? By who, Vincent? Angelique?” I was seriously thrown by her admission.
“Neither, actually.” Evelyn settled down on a closed chest near where I was sitting. “You see, it wasn't just the vampire duo who knew that your time as the Sorceress was coming.”
“I know that some weren't happy.” I said, remembering the attacks on this and my Mom's houses just before and after my graduation.
“It's not about not liking that there's a new Sorceress, it's also about being afraid.” she explained. “While there are few who have ever encountered a Sorceress, there are lots of stories, and few of them good for various supernatural creatures of the malicious and cruel varieties. If you go bad before the settling is done, then a lot of good guys are threatened. Your existence threatens a lot of people, in their minds.”
“And did one of the good guys hire you?”
“They're the only ones we would have taken the job from. Partly because we're not stupid enough to attack someone under the protection of a vampire as powerful as Angelique, but also because I believe in giving everyone a chance to prove themselves.” she said with a smile.
I smiled back, her attention making me feel... I don't know, lighter somehow. Then the smile faded. “If I do go bad, what are you supposed to do?”
“Officially? Report to our boss on this job. Unofficially?” Her own smile faded. “Probably join with Angelique and Vincent to stop you.”
The thought didn't do much to help.
* * *
I collapsed back on the bed, exhausted. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on my bared skin, and I didn't bother reaching for a sheet. I needed air, thank you very much, modesty be damned.
Vincent laid beside me, not nearly as winded but with a satisfied grin nonetheless. He eyed me with amusement as I gulped lung-fulls of air. “So that was intense.” he understated.
“I... take it you... liked it.” I got out between breaths.
“Oh, I liked it, don't get me wrong.” he continued, the grin staying. “I'm just not that used to you being so aggressive in bed, is all.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, feeling more myself again, “maybe my memories of being a guy in a past life have awakened my inner sex-fiend.”
“That must be it.” he chuckled, and I snuggled up against his body.
“What was it like when you first remembered a past life where you were a different gender?” I asked, changing gears slightly.
“Well,” he replied, thinking back, “I remember that it was a life where Angelique and I were both women, and lovers, so it wasn't that big of a paradigm shift.”
“What about when you had a male lover?”
“Then… ,” he began again, “That was also Angelique in the other role, so it could have been worse. I had also done a little experimenting with guys in my vampiric form, so it wasn't my first rodeo in this incarnation.”
I had almost forgotten about this part of vampiric nature, how they were all functionally pansexual. Whatever part of human physiology that dictated who we liked to diddle in life didn't survive the transition to being a vampire, so they could, and often did, take lovers of all gender expressions.
“What about the first time you, you know...” I stammered, not sure of how to phrase it.
“Had sex with a man?” he finished.
“Yeah, that.” I exhaled.
“Well, it was in what I like to call 'the sweaty years', where Angelique and I spent almost a century boning each other like the planet was about to explode.” he replied. “She was out hunting one night when she ran across a vamp that she had known about a hundred years before, guy by the name of Sebastian.” Vincent got a far-away look in his eyes as he relived the memory in his mind.
“Was he hot?” I asked.
Vincent exhaled. “More like sex on a stick. He was French, like me, but thin and waifish, with the graceful lines that formed his body looking like the Gods had wept him into existence.”
“He sounds special.”
“He was... oh, he was. Angelique had enjoyed his company sometime before that, and thought that Sebastian would be a good way of helping me accept this part of my nature."
“And he was?”
“Again, oh.. he was.”
“And you didn't have a problem with it?”
“Well, you have to remember that I'd been having sex... a twisted and bizarre version of sex-based on power and domination, mind you... but sex, nevertheless, with men all my life. So the acts were nothing new to me. However, it actually being something I wanted? That was a first. I had experienced quite a few years of gentle, nurturing loving in Angelique’s arms, as well as having exacted my revenge on those who wronged me, so much of my trauma had been healed.”
I thought about the centuries-long war that Vincent had waged against child predators and thought about challenging Vincent’s assertion about being ‘healed’, but I held my tongue. Instead, I asked another question that had been on my mind. “Does it ever bother Angelique?”
“Me being with guys?”
“You being with anyone.”
He shrugged. “That type of thing never bothers our kind. We may be possessive over our homes, our belongings, and our collections, but others? We’ve learned that everyone is temporary. Humans die, and vampires often feel the need to move on after a time. Angelique and I staying as companions after four hundred years is an anomaly… most pairings dissolve after the second century.”
“So no jealousy?”
“Quite the opposite. Angelique and I have been together as a team for so long, and we moved
beyond an intensely sexual relationship centuries ago, so we actually take great pleasure in seeing those that we love enjoying themselves.” He stopped and grinned. “Besides,” he added, “Angelique thinks it’s really hot to see her lover get cranked up by another person, so there’s that as well.”
I smiled. I had never seen the point in jealousy and steered clear of anyone who seemed too fond of it. I liked that there were others, indeed whole species, who felt the same.
And I was dating one. The thought of him with a beautiful man started stirring something within me, and I got a wicked grin on my face. "I feel like exploring my more… aggressive side.” I said as I got up and straddled him.
“So I should just lay here and let you work?” he asked, a lusty grin on his face as well.
“Until I say otherwise.”
* * *
I sat at the breakfast table the next morning, barely being able to contain my excitement. I was the only one who knew of Starr’s return, and this morning was a test of the techniques we had started trying the day before.
Raina was the last to join us, Jack actually beating her for the first time in, well, ever. He was on his third cup of coffee by the time she made her entrance, and his leg was stuck in a constant bounce.
“Morning witchy-poo!” he said animatedly. “What took you so long?”
She looked at him warily. “I couldn’t decide what I wanted to wear. My clothes were a little more disorganized than I thought. What’s your deal, discover the alchemical formula for cocaine?”
“Just some of Vincent’s heavy metal java.”
“Yeah, well, I think you should lay off for a bit…” she said, smirking. “This speed metal brew will burn you out like David Crosby’s septum.”
Vincent sat a cup of coffee doctored to Raina's specifications down beside my spot as she settled in. I looked at her attire for the day: skin-tight yoga pants with a tiny crop-top that was tie-dyed in a swirling pattern. The shirt was very familiar, and I swallowed nervously. "Isn't that the same shirt you wore in middle school?"
The Witch: Book Two of The Sorceress Saga Page 7
