Page 72 of The Demon's Fire
Margo, who wasn’t restricted by a shit-ton of metal, clutched a bar and poked the side of her face through the opening as far as possible. “It looks like a big ol’ box. No key.”
“Yeah. They’ve been using a remote device to open it. They locked my chain the same way. That’s good, I think.” Chay studied the manacle attached to his leg. “Red, it’s our lucky day. I am so zipped.”
“What you are is crazy.”
“Come here.”
“Why?” Margo lifted an eyebrow, questioning Chay’s sanity.
“You’re going to unchain me with your new voodoo powers.”
“Sure I am. Me along with a really big chainsaw. Got one up your sleeve?”
“I got something better. Hold on to your bloomers. Some witches can manipulate radio waves. You might be a member of their club. Hence, stuff goes wonky around you.”
“I’m not a witch.”
“If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and farts eggs. Isn’t that what you humans say?”
“Kinda. Not about witches, though.”
“We’re in my realm now, gorgeous, and I say you’ve got some mage goin’ on.”
“Uh-huh. Still not a witch.”
“Let’s blah-blah-blah this whole I-am-not-a-witch thing once we’re out of here. Now, cast a spell. Unlock me.”
“Chay, seriously, the only waves I know about are in the ocean.”
“I bet you rock a bikini with only a piece of dental floss going up your ass. But right now, as much as I would like to see you in one, we need our focus elsewhere.” Chay’s eyes betrayed his words when they raked over Margo’s breasts and hips. He imagined her beside him on a Covenkirk beach, sunbathing in a skimpy suit. A smack on the forehead helped erase the image. “Okay, about unlocking me, Red. Let the waves roll.”
“I’m blank, Chay. How do I begin.”
“No idea. I’m an ylve not a frickin’ warlock. Cogitate on it or do something witchy. Do what you did to the radio before.”
Casting a frown at Chay, Margo sat cross-legged in front of the latch. She stared at it.
Nothing.
“You’re going to have to give me a little info. What do witches do when they cast spells? Other than old reruns ofBewitchedon TV, I’ve never seen magic performed. I can’t even wiggle my nose.”
Chay scrunched his brows. “Good one. Mages have to feed like any other Aeternal. That’s how they gather the energy to cast a spell. They channel power. Tap me, Red.”
When she rested a hand on his arm, Chay felt heat flow from him to Margo. It gave him an instant hard-on when she fed.
She owl-eyed him. “Okay. Weird feeling. What’s next?”
“Let’s see. Mages use potions, written spells, objects, wave their hands in the air, rack their brains. I’m in the dark, Red. I never saw the need to peek over their shoulders while they did their jobs. Whodda thunk I’d be teaching a crash course in basic witchcraft?”
“Bet you’re sorry you didn’t pay more attention.”
“Say, Tyr, afreron, told me he visualizes spells. A few weeks after his Awakening, his cousin beat the crap out of him. After he got himself together, he closed his eyes and pictured the twerp as a Terranian cockroach.” Chay let out a short, snorting laugh. “I guess the guy’s parents had to raise holy Angor to talk Tyr into changing the little insect back. Maybe his technique could work for you. Use what you pulled out of me to power your spell. Then envision the lock.”
“Visualize. Of course. I’m a sculptor. Easy. Peasy.” Margo closed her eyes for some time. Chay took her hand in his. A smile tugged at her lips while various expressions played across her freckled face. Still no change.
Since she was silent for so long, Chay was sure the experiment had failed. Until … the air cooled. Power race from him, met where they held hands, and sped to her. When it did, the lock sprang open. He was free. Of course, feeding Margo via the channeling stuff gave him the hard-on from hell.
He had barely removed the manacle when Margo shot off the floor. She jumped into his arms. “Wow! What a blast! I pictured waves, thousands, no millions, of them coming from your body. They rolled over me. All different widths and heights. I collected them, molded them in my hands like clay, and sent them to the lock. Can you imagine?”
