Something About Witches

“Soul mates,” Linda murmured the words, weighting them with reverent amazement.

He sighed. “It changed when she turned twenty. For various reasons, I hadn’t been able to come see her for a couple years. At that time, it was the second longest stretch of time we’d been apart since we’d met. But at that point, it all just clicked. We were both aware of the change, but I didn’t act on it, didn’t push it. Those first couple years, I moved slow and cautious, because twenty is a time of a lot of changes, choices, and I never wanted to take anything away from her. Mary had done enough of that.”

The bite of it was in his voice, but he quelled it. Tonight wasn’t about that. “But she never…. the way she looks at me, her heart in her eyes, it’s that thing. There you are. You’re it. And I feel the same way when I look at her. Always have. Even when I first met her. In a very non-creepy way, I promise.”

Linda laughed, rose to lay her hand on his arm. “I get it. Nothing about you strikes me as the child molesting type.”

At twenty-two, Ruby had lost patience with his gallantry. She met him at the door, stepped right into him, went up on her toes, and put her mouth against his. Their very first real lovers’ kiss. He’d ended up taking it over, his arm banded around her waist, pushing her up against the doorframe, her toes practically off the ground. Everything he wanted to feel was in that kiss. When he finally lifted his head, she’d been breathless, flushed. A smile reached all the way into her eyes, made them shine. “Wow. That left Billy in the dust.”

He’d realized something earth-shattering then, long past the age when he’d expected such life-altering surprises. When she smiled like that, it was a reaction she had toward him alone. Trust, faith. Joy. It swept him with humility and eternal gratitude. He’d found someone who touched his soul. He was no longer isolated and alone.

Coming back to the present, he knew that was what he’d missed most these past several years. He was going to get it back, because life wasn’t worth going on without it.

“Better?” Linda asked.

He laid his hand over hers on his arm, squeezed. “Yeah. Better. Thanks.”

When she stepped back, the mantle of priestess dropped over her again, though her gaze remained warm. “It’s about time to go. The Lord and Lady wait. Best not to keep them. Come out when you’re ready.”

When she left him, Derek closed his eyes. The elemental energies were gathering, both Light and Dark. They knew what was happening here tonight and, as Linda had pointed out, best not to keep them waiting, either.

He left the cottage, a small bungalow in the woods near the main house, one a little more remote than the other guesthouses. After returning from his mountain, he’d materialized within it, spending the rest of his day there in meditation, gathering energy. It was why he hadn’t realized Ruby was still on the property. He’d simply assumed she was gone because he’d been such a bastard about it.

As he emerged, half of the coven was there to precede him down to the ritual site. When Jocelyn came forward, he bent to accommodate her as she placed the antlered crown on his head, symbolizing the Horned God. Since it had been blessed, the energy settled over him like a mantle. As above, so below. Like the Lord Himself, Derek knew there was just one essential component missing.

Her. The Goddess.

As he walked down the path to the circle, the coven members scattered flower petals ahead of him, singing chants praising the Lord, asking for His power and strength as a hunter, as a protector, to safeguard the fault line. When they emerged from the woods, he saw a similar procession making its way from Ruby’s cottage. The petals they were scattering for her were shades of white, the color of the moon, whereas his were yellow, orange and red, the colors of the sun.

Linda and Christine waited at the North and South points of the circle. An altar had been set up in the center, a sturdy oak table with a wide blue cloth on it, the veil for the Goddess. He’d used a small bit of magic earlier in the day, after breakfast and before Mikhael, to move the heavy ritual object for the ladies. The metal of the wine chalice and jewels in the hilt of the athame blade caught the setting sunlight. The ritual flogger was spread out in a fan shape between them.

He’d given it all a cursory glance to make sure everything was in place, but then his gaze went back to Ruby. As he drew closer, he lingered on her hair, loose on her shoulders. The naturally streaked brown hair always reminded him of an animal’s soft pelt. Then there were her eyes, the gray-green color with a thick dark ring around the iris. The impossibly delicate jawline and small, pink mouth. The generous bosom and slim legs, the toned body that was stronger than it looked.

She’d never stopped being beautiful to him, but since they’d reunited, her beauty had been overshadowed by weariness, anger, lies, betrayal. Tonight, the coven had truly prepared her, inside and out. She was balanced, calm, that inner power radiating through a cleansed aura, however temporary that was. Divine power enhanced a woman’s beauty, but it also brought out what was already inside, since the Goddess was present in every female soul. He was looking not only at a vessel for the Goddess, but the woman he loved. He could sense the calm mixed with an accelerated heartbeat, anticipation of what they would do tonight, drawing energy down into their bodies for the ritual’s purpose.

He held her gaze in his as she and her contingent approached the northern end of the circle, and he and his approached the south. As he stepped into the boundary, his group fanned out, taking their places, and Ruby’s mirrored them. When the circle closed around them, he obeyed instinct, dropped to one knee and bowed his head to her.

She humbled him by doing the same. Lifting the hem of her silken robe so she wouldn’t catch it beneath her bare knees, she pressed both of them into the ground, held herself there a moment before rising to her feet again. He helped her up, his fingers closing on her slim ones.

It was an effort to let her go, but Linda had initiated the calling of Quarters. As she reached the Fire point, two coven members came forward. He straightened his arms, allowing them to unbelt the robe and take it off his shoulders. Two coven members did the same to Ruby so they faced each other naked. Following the parameters of the ritual, they stepped forward, closing the distance until there was only a pace between them.

Jocelyn spread the oil over his shoulders then. The scent of jasmine, representing the Lady, came to his nostrils. Because it was associated with Artemis, as much warrior as woman, he had to press his lips against a smile. They couldn’t have picked a more appropriate flower to represent the woman before him. They were using a blending of sandalwood oil on Ruby, a scent associated with the Great Lord.

“As the Lord and Lady are marked to belong to one another, so we mark you with those scents now, underscoring that their binding is what brings balance to all things,” Linda said.

Ruby’s face was open, the message in her expression clear. Tonight was for what they were meant to be. Vessels conducting energy, using the deep, soul-level bond between them to enhance and strengthen that effort, setting aside any of the obstacles that stood in the way of that bond outside the circle.

Was it possible to divide the two that way? He expected they were going to find out.

As the hands of the coven members moved over them, coating their skin with the slick oils, the chants building in rhythm and strength, he concentrated on the energies gathering in the circle, on the energies in her, his Lady, directly before him. Her lips parted as if she was feeling it, too. He barely paid attention as hands handled his genitals, oiled them as well, slid over his buttocks. The Great Rite wasn’t about that. It was more intense than simple lust. Desire was sacred here, an offering to Them.

The aroma of the oil was dizzying, capable of taking them to a different plane of thought together. The attendants had returned to the circle, and now Derek knelt once more before Ruby, closing that last distance between them. Bending, he began the Five Fold kiss. Though Linda could offer the chant, Derek spoke, telling the priestess he was taking the option of saying it himself.

“Blessed be Thy feet, which brought you to this Circle.” When his lips brushed the tops of Ruby’s bare feet, he smelled jasmine and soap.

“Blessed be Thy knees, which kneel at the Sacred Altar of the Lord and Lady, a vessel of Their Will.” When she quivered, he remembered her knees were a little ticklish.

“Blessed be Thy womb, without which Life is not possible.” He stopped there a moment, his throat thickening. At this point, Ruby was supposed to straighten her arms out to her sides, like a bird taking flight, but she touched his head, her fingers whispering through his hair. He felt the hitch in her abdomen, the great emotion binding them together.

He straightened onto his knees, brushed his mouth over each of her breasts. “Blessed be Thy breasts, which nourish us all.”

As he rose, his feet aligned on the outside of hers. Her eyes followed him, gray-green color still vibrant. He spoke the next words against her lips. “Blessed be Thy mouth, which will utter the Truth we need to do Your Will.”

Normally, she would be laid back on the altar at this juncture. Instead, she made a gesture to hold back the coven attendants. She knelt, and began to give him the Five Fold kiss as well.

“Great Lord, Blessed be Thy feet, which bring and keep you at My side, through storm and lull.” He closed his eyes as her mouth touched his feet. Power vibrated through her voice, shuddering through him. It was the Lady, as well as Ruby, and the rest of the circle felt it as well. The Lord’s energy within him stirred and strengthened, responding to it. He could feel it coming, that point where he wouldn’t know where he ended and the Lord began, and it would be all one and the same, regardless.

“Blessed be Thy knees, which kneel to Me, unashamed of Your Love and Devotion.

“Blessed be Thy seed, which makes new life and rebirth possible.” Just as he had with her, she paused at this point, her mouth holding against his semierect shaft, not a provocative tease, but a reverent homage to the Lord’s virility it represented. The life it had given her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">