Page 26 of Magic Pussy

Which would be all well and good if Sara wasn't a vegetarian, as well as a foodie who ate super-fast and talked with her mouth full.

It was going to drive her mad. Rain didn't know how she didn't just get up and punch her sister until she woke up.

"So, how are your exams going?" she asked. "Do you still want to transfer to New York for your master's?"

Sara put her knife and fork down, chewed, and cleaned her mouth with her napkin before replying.

"I don't think so, no. I like it here. And it wouldn't do to stay away from the coven. I don't know how you can live without the ancestral magic."

Hiding her frustration and anger was fucking hard. Just when Rain didn't think she could do it, she felt a hand press on her knee. She blushed, her head sharply turning to her left.

Luke was eating with one hand, keeping the other one on her leg like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She gaped. It took a moment to realize that most of her anger had run out the door. Which was, no doubt, exactly why he'd done it in the first place.

Strange. As the evening passed, Pseud- Sara kept on doing and saying things which were so un-Sara-like, that Rain should have wanted to scream by the end of it. But Luke's hand, that he kept on her leg, then placed on her back, or on her shoulder, always supporting her, helped. It was like his calm, laid-back demeanor tempered her fiery nature.

"So, you said you were hanging out with some of the witches. Who did you get close to?" she asked. "I saw the Curtis sisters. They're about your age, right?"

Sara tsked, disapprovingly. "Yes. I wish they acted like it. They don't seem to take anything seriously."

Needless to say, Amelia was studying to become a lawyer, and Sophie got a scholarship to pay for all of her college expenses by running track.

What the spirit inside her sister meant was that they weren't taking magic seriously and, therefore, they were of little use to her.

Rain wished she could just get drunk, but she had to stay alert, so she stopped after downing her first glass of Merlot.

"Have you thought about my suggestion?" Sara asked, leaning in and smiling in a way that would have seemed sweet if it wasn't creepy. "That we should anchor the ritual together."

Yeah, right. How about not.

"I brought it up with Michelle," Rain lied, hoping her non-possessed sister would play along if asked. "She thinks it'd be better if I did it by myself, for such a big ceremony; if we mess it up, it'll affect the magic of the clans for the entire year. She said she'd show you how to properly anchor smaller spells, so that you're ready for next year, as you're so..." what was the word? "Enthusiastic about it."

Sara was pissed, but she let it drop, which meant that there was a backup plan. Probably having Rain killed, as Michelle had guessed. She just hoped they really were on top of the situation, and one step ahead of their enemy.

She truly had to trust her sister. Trust that she could defeat the enemy, trust that she was really on her side, trust that she wouldn't just stab her while she was unconscious.

She had Luke in her corner, and it certainly made things a lot less frightening, but Rain wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without believing that Michelle would protect her.

It was strange. She should have doubted it, but somehow, she didn't. Something told her, at the bottom of her heart, that despite everything she'd done, Michelle was still, deep down, the girl who'd sneak into her bedroom in the middle of the night to tell her how to improve her spells. The girl who would see her succeed, regardless of what it may cost her.

Finally, the dreadful evening came to an end. Rain didn't have the heart to ask Sara if she wanted to head over to the jazz bar where they used to hang out, and Sara didn't seem to think it strange. They parted ways with an awkward wave, rather than a bear hug.

When her sister disappeared from view, Rain groaned, letting her face fall.

By all the gods, keeping that fake smile up all evening had taken a lot of fucking effort.

"What now?" Luke asked, glancing at his watch. "It's still early."

"Bed. Maybe a bath, with candlelight and music. I definitely want a book, too. Are you any good at massages?"

Luke smiled slowly, wickedly. "Aye, lass. I'm very, very good at massages. But are you ready to find out what would happen between you, me, a bottle of massage oil, and a flat surface?"

Her clit tingled. Very. She was very, very ready to find out what would happen, especially when he spoke that way, whispering low.

She smiled like she'd won the lottery, which she basically had. She knew he wasn't joking, it was an offer, and she wasn't about to pass it up.

"Never mind the bath. Let's go straight for the massage oil, shall we?"

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