Page 74 of Hot Summer's Prey

I laugh and pull her face to mine as I thrust inside her again and again. Having her here like this, with the threat of the Lantern Witch no longer hanging over my head, with the rest of our lives in front of us, fills me with so much pleasure I could burst.

When she comes apart on top of me, my sifon sucks up her magic. My changan spurs her on, never letting up on her clit. Nothing else matters but her pleasure. Our pleasure.

33

THE SPANISH INQUISITION

PACARI

“Anote would have been appreciated,” Nina’s grandchild, Zephyr grumbles.

Their light blue hair, cut short in the back and sides and long on top, falls over their eyes.

“Sorry,” Teresa says. “We kind of got caught up in things. But Kalixto told you, right?”

“A phone call. A text. An email. Snail mail,” they grumble.

Teresa’s friend is very prickly.

“But we’re back now!” Teresa says excitedly.

“It’s been a week, T,” Zephyr sighs.

“Oh. Oh I’m a shitty friend,” Teresa says, her mood darkening. “I’m so sorry.”

Zephyr shakes their head. “It’s whatever. I’ve been mostly cooped up in my room or wandering on the beach anyway. I know I invited everyone because I was afraid of being alone, but I’ve been kind of avoiding everyone…”

“Classic,” Teresa laughs.

“Should I go?” I ask, feeling as if I am extraneous and in the way. Teresa and I haven’t spent a moment apart for a week, though I’m not excited to leave her if that’s what they both wish.

“Mmm, no,” Zephyr says. “We didn’t finish interrogating you. And this time you’ve got clothes on, which is a big plus.”

“It’s big, but I object to the plus,” Teresa jokes.

“Unnecessary information!” Zephyr whines.

“I mean, you saw it for yourself,” Teresa laughs.

“Oh my god, just come in already,” Zephyr says, trying not to laugh too.

We follow them in the door, making our way to the couch.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” one of her friends calls out. She has deep brown skin and wears a simple dress that looks like something the Cliffside Lady—Nina Martinez—would wear.

“Your last slut walk was better,” another, this one dressed in sporty clothes, says. “You’re clothed this time!”

“Teresa! Mr. Hot Dog!” Dawn greets.

“He has a name, Dawn,” the sporty friend laughs.

“Right. Pacari.”

“Do the rest of us get names?” the one who dresses like Nina Martinez asks.

“Only if you really want them. That one’s Anelisa, Pacari,” Teresa laughs. “And momma bear in the basketball shorts is Taara.”

“You’re missing your dog again,” Dawn says, a little sadly. “You find a new babysitter? I didn’t mind.”

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