Page 4 of Witch's Rite
"I'll be careful, Gran," I assured her, wrapping her in a hug as we moved to the door. "I promise."
We said our goodbyes and I promised to be careful at least three more times before finally shutting the door after her. I couldn't help but feel a bad taste in my mouth as I finished tidying up my tea shop before leaving.
I realized she wanted to protect me. I was a fledgling witch still honing my powers, hanging out with creatures much older and more powerful than me. But she was of a different generation than me and her words felt eerily similar to an older white woman saying, "Well, I'm not racist, but..."
It didn't seem fair that she painted all demons with such a broad brush. Not that I knew many, only three. And barely at that.
They were all ridiculously hot though, and I seemed to have some kind of inexplicable bond between all of them. Nearly every night since I met them I've had extremely erotic dreams, vivid in every sense but sight. I could feel multiple hands and mouths pleasuring me like they were really there, but as if I were blindfolded. I wanted to say it felt likethembut without even knowing, how could I be sure?
I smoothed my dark hair in the mirror and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. My reflection winked one amber eye back at me before I locked up and set out for the bar.
One of the core principles Diana taught me while using magic was to trust my instincts. For some reason, my gut felt more suspicious about her anti-demon rhetoric than the demons themselves. Every moment spent in their company made me feel I could trust them. But when she said things against them, my instinct was to rise up in their defense.
They knew something about me that I didn't, that maybe even my grandmother didn't know. Something that might explain how I felt so bonded and drawn to them after barely knowing them.
And possibly, more importantly, they might have some answers as to what happened to my mother.
2
DEJA
Abrisk walk on a chilly San Francisco evening was never dull, especially not after discovering my magical abilities. After learning I was a witch, it was like awakening a sixth sense. I saw people's auras as I walked by them in a variety of colors, hues, and shapes. Some had small halos circling their head, others encompassed their whole body in an ethereal glow. I recently learned this was based on how strong their emotions were in that moment.
The discovery of my magic also led me to find actual, physical places that were invisible to ordinary humans, like my current destination, the Triple Moon pub.
When I first moved to San Francisco, I walked past this alley hundreds of times without a second glance. All I saw then were dumpsters and the backsides of buildings that faced the opposite street. But now the red brick building emitted a cozy, flickering glow from its windows as I hastily approached, eager to wrap my hands around a pint glass or maybe a whiskey tumbler. I hadn't decided yet.
I pulled the door open to a room full of warmth, laughter and many simultaneous conversations. The varnished wooden bar stretched out long before my eyes, lined with enchanted candles that never burned out or dripped wax. A massive chandelier mounted on the high, vaulted ceiling flickered with the same enchanting light. Across from the bar, couches, booths, and pub tables lent a few dim corners for privacy.
I didn't spot my demons right away, so I approached an empty space at the bar as I mused on what to drink.
"I'll have a sex on the beach, please," I said to the bartender. Why not. I was in a flirty mood.
"Is that a request?"
The question came from behind me while a large, heavy hand snaked around my hip at the same time, igniting my skin into delicious shivers.
I peered over my shoulder to find myself looking up into a familiar pair of dark, mischievous eyes followed by a chiseled jaw coated in dark stubble, shoulder-length black hair, and a playful smirk on kissable lips.
"Even if it was, you'd have to whisk me away to Mexico or somewhere 'cause that ain't happening on the frozen, rocky shore here," I shot back at Raum.
The tall, dark, handsome demon's grin only grew wider as he squeezed my waist in a possessive grip that suggested we do exactly that. But you never really knew with Raum. He was like the Sphinx to Odysseus-- speaking in riddles, teasing, hinting, and never revealing all that he knew, which was a lot considering he could see the past and the future.
"Her drink is on my tab," he told the bartender, lacing his fingers through mine as he pulled me away from the bar. I could have swooned right then, but somehow kept my legs and drink steady as I followed him to a private corner with couches and a low table.
Sitting there, waiting for us was a man whose features were the polar opposite of Raum's, though no less breathtakingly handsome.
Where Raum was dark, flirtatious, and mysterious, Salmac was bright, blunt, and hotheaded. His sharp green eyes looked like a predatory cat in the flickering candlelight. His auburn hair, short on the sides and longer on top, shone with its own fire and luster. As for his clean-shaven, serious face? Well, I was essentially dying to kiss it.
"Hey Sal," I greeted, sliding into the booth and brushing a kiss against his cheek, too shy to initiate anything else.
He merely scoffed and cupped the nape of my neck, holding me in place as he delivered a hot, slow and sensual open-mouthed kiss that stole my breath away. His tongue probed my lips apart and confidently invaded me. When his mouth left mine, my brain buzzed like I had downed several drinks already.
"Hey beautiful," he murmured gruffly against my lips.
Well, that was one hell of a greeting. Something I could get used to.
"Now you're not going to let him have all the fun, are you?" Raum whispered against the shell of my ear.
