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Nine
The Powers, They Want
We stopped at my hotel so I could pick up some things I might need, which turned out to be about half of everything I brought from Memphis. Honestly, I was tempted to bring everything, I felt like I should, but I didn’t want to freak Ignatius out like I was some crazy stalker girl he’d never be able to get rid of. Even though we hadn’t discussed it, it seemed obvious I was staying at his house, at least for the time being. Frankly, I was grateful. I couldn’t deny the whole incident with my car had left me shaken, especially after the crimes. Because of the crimes. Ignatius knew, he’d been witness to it, he’d seen how deeply I was affected. It bothers me that I got upset. I don’t get upset. Ever. But this, it left me feeling violated and attacked. I saw in Ignatius’ expression he was very angry, and I really couldn’t blame him. Because it happened on his property, I could understand how he might somehow feel responsible. He isn’t, not at all. I just happened to be there. The sergeant said I was most likely targeted because I’d been named as a lead investigator. Which is probably why Ignatius assigned himself my personal watchdog, at least for tonight. I’ll take it. Honestly, I’m looking forward to it. It’s exactly what I need to forget the horrors I’ve faced recently, of the threat made directly to me, and why I’m here in the first place.
I just need to forget.
It’s late by the time we arrive at Ignatius’ house. We were wound up from the events of the incredibly long day, but I knew, and I believe Ignatius did too, we have to put at least one of the things Hattie had given us in place. As we drove through the darkened streets, as the city scape slowly morphed to thick swamp vegetation, I could practically feel the letter hum with energy on my lap. There’s no doubt you have to believe, magic is just like prayer. I didn’t believe. It was more than that. It was a part of me.
We pass through the two brick pillars at the beginning of the long driveway at the Beauchamp estate and approach the front of his house. I turn and speak to Ignatius for the first time since we left Hattie’s. “Are you okay with this?” I turn the folded piece of paper over in my lap for the hundredth time, running a fingertip along the edge and imagine what’s written on it.
I know it’s some kind of protection spell, however, I was caught off guard when she’d taken something, our hair, from both of us. I shrugged it off and attributed it to my attack being at Ignatius’ home. It makes sense really, because if there was some kind of hex or curse placed on me, it could have included Ignatius. It’s possible. But just because he knows about this stuff, doesn’t necessarily mean he believes in it or condones the practices.
“Yes,” he responds, his voice deep, as he parks the car.
Something inside me stirs and makes my heart flutter, some unknown memory that flickers at the recesses of my mind. Something that you know, but aren’t exactly sure what it is, or even how you know it. It’s a sense of déjà, vu you have no idea of the what or the how.
Ignatius twists and reaches for the box in the backseat, then exits the car with it. My eyes are fixed on the darkness at the edge of his property, on the lightning bugs and the soft sway of leaves I can see silhouetted by the moonlight, grateful there’s only a light breeze tonight.
My door opens. I lift my gaze to Ignatius’s face as he peers down at me. My God, he’s arrestingly good-looking, with a face carved to perfection. It shouldn’t be humanly possible. Every nerve in my body reacts to him, to his presence, the heat of his body, his masculine scent, the sound of his voice. My loins clench with hunger and my breasts ache with need just from looking at him.
“Come, Dominique,” he commands with a tone that’s full of dark promises. His voice is gravelly, the sound sizzles down my spine like an electric current.
He steps back as I set a foot outside the car, ready to follow him wherever he leads me.
We go around to the back of the house, not bothering to enter yet. When we get to the rear of the property, close to the edge near the embankment that dips down to the swamp, Ignatius tells me this is where he’s going to build the fire. When he goes to the woodpile, I mark the ground with runes and symbols. Then I begin to chant.
It’s impossible to accurately describe what it feels like, the energy that possesses you, when you summon the powers. Intense, hallucinogenic, alert, massive, all encompassing. You feel larger than life, it’s like all the mysteries of the universe are in the palm of your hands ready for you to command.
The words I murmur slip from my lips like a snake, smoothly and seductively, powerful and full of danger if provoked and unleashed.
Something like a trance envelopes me as I stand beneath the moonlight and murmur the words. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss this. It’s intoxicating, that and the lust running through my veins makes my body hum and my nerve-endings sizzle. My skin is sensitive to the slightest stimulation, even the light breeze feels like a caress.
The heat from the fire Ignatius has started warms my cheeks as the flames leave a dancing glow across my body. I can feel Ignatius’ eyes on me, watching me. Devouring me. He walks slowly toward me, his steps measured and sure. Predatory.
I don’t stop repeating the chant as his arms slide around my waist. With his mouth at me ear, and his erection pressed against my back, he whispers hoarsely, “I don’t know what you’re conjuring, but I’m going to fuck you while you do.”
My entire body pulses with his filthy declaration as wetness pools between my thighs.
He releases me, only to glide his hands up my back. He gathers my hair, then slips it over one shoulder. Everywhere his fingertips touch me, my skin tingles with heat. He grips my dress at the back neckline. Then he rips it from my body right down the middle.
Oh, my God!My mind reels as goosebumps erupt along my now naked flesh.
My words stumble, but I don’t stop. Neither does he. My bra falls to the ground next, then Ignatius nudges my underwear down until they, too, land in a pool around my ankles. I step out of them, then kick my shoes to the side. I’m now completely naked as he steps around me to stand in front of me.
“That’s better,” he whispers roughly. “A goddess needs to show her glory.” His eyes appear to glow in the moonlight, bright and wild, they call to the magic inside me. He lifts his hands and palms my breasts. My loins clench with hunger at his touch. He takes both nipples between a finger and thumb and places his mouth at my ear. He drags his tongue around the shell as he pinches them tightly, and whispers, “Your orgasms are going to be the sacrifices tonight, Dominique.” I shudder at his promise. “The spirits want badly. They’re hungry.” My heart pounds. “They want to hear your cry. They want to feel your pleasure.” He takes the lobe between his teeth, and slowly bites. The pain swirls with the lust flowing through me, it mingles with the pain of my nipples as it travels down that invisible cord to my groin and explodes into ecstasy. “They want to feel your pain.”
I push my breasts into his touch. “Yes,” I moan softly.
He straightens and releases his hold on me. Then he slaps first one breast, then the other. The shock of exquisite pain bursts through me and blossoms into wanton pleasure. My head falls back as my eyes dip closed and I raise my arms out to the side, offering myself up to him, to this, to the night and to the power.
He gathers my hair and wraps it around his fist. He tilts my head back with a tight hold and presses his still fully clothed body against mine, then closes his mouth over mine and kisses me. It’s rough and hard and brutal. He slips his other hand between my thighs, then captures my clit with the same unforgiving hold he’d held my nipples with. I can feel the orgasm rushing forward, ready to blow. With the nub pinched tightly between finger and thumb, he rubs it mercilessly. I come almost instantly. I scream with pleasure into his mouth and take hold of his arms because my legs want to give out.
He pulls my head back by my hair and stares down into my eyes as he releases my clit only to plunge two fingers into my dripping entrance. My hips thrust into his hand as he penetrates me. “What do you need?” he growls.
I search his eyes, his face, the spaces between his words. That’s where his darkness lies, the spaces in between. That’s where I want to drown.
“I need,” I pant. His grip tightens and makes my scalp sing with pleasure from the pain.
