Page 39 of Filthy Little Witch
“Yeah. Me. Her. A sweaty session on the mats,” Atlas said. “She makes this cute little groan when she?—”
“Okay,” Marta cut in, glancing at me. “Enough.”
I wanted to be angry. In the real world, I probably would have been. Atlas and I had never shared a woman between us, even if there were some hazy nights where it came close. I sat there, willing the wicked, fiery slice of jealousy to come, but it never did. Instead, the thought of the two of them fighting and fucking sent a different kind of heat to my stomach, one that clenched my balls and made my cock twitch.
I would have liked to have seen that.
I bet it was hilarious. I bet it was hot. I bet?—
“If we’re going to perform some fucked-up ritual in the woods, we might as well put all the cards on the table,” Atlas said. “You can’t fuck both of us and expect us not to say something about it.”
“Yeah? And what about you, huh? Standing outside the storage room, watching us like some kind of creeper?—”
“Alright, stop it, both of you,” I cut in with a chuckle, surprising myself. “Look, we’re not exactly in ideal circumstances. Trapped here in this big empty mansion, a fucking lust demon on the loose somewhere. Let’s just…make the best of it.”
“What?” Atlas balked. “So you’re not jealous?”
I laughed and shook my head. “If we plan to do all three rituals, this was going to come up eventually. Jealousy won’t get us home.”
The words rang true in my heart. I wouldn’t begrudge either of them for taking their frustrations out on each other. We were in a frustrating circumstance, made even more irritating by the limited prospects of getting home. What if we were stuck here indefinitely? Would I expect them not to act on what they felt between them? And what happened once we got the bond back and those emotions were amplified? What if we couldn’t control it like before?
“Are you?” I asked Atlas.
“Pfft.” He balked and sipped his beer, clearly searching for the right words to say. When he sputtered something that sounded like “I don’t know,” I took pity on him and said my thoughts out loud.
“What if we never get out?” I asked. “What if it’s just the three of us until we grow old and die?”
“There’s something about this place,” Marta said. “I feel…out of control. With both of you. Like I can’t stop it.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Ditto,” Atlas agreed.
“That’s got to be the demon,” I said. “It was making people consume each other in the real world. What would it do with the three of us in a reality made specifically for it?”
Atlas sighed, and Marta shook her head.
“It’s only going to get worse,” she said. “We might be somewhat shielded behind the wards, but when we leave this place…if we ever venture out there…it’ll fuck with us.”
“So here’s what we do,” I said, my rational mind quickly searching for a way to organize the chaos, a way to keep us going. “Anything that happens in the liminal, stays in the liminal. If doing this ritual gets us a step closer to getting home, we’ll do it. Whatever happens in the meantime is…nuance.”
“Nuance?” Atlas barked a laugh. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is my life.”
“Look, you and I have never had many boundaries between us,” I said. “We were raised in motel rooms and the back seat of Dad’s pickup. I’m honestly surprised this is the first time something like this has happened.”
Atlas met my gaze then, his emerald eyes shimmering with a tumultuous mix of fear and anticipation. Something else danced behind them, too. Something depraved and licentious, like maybe the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should. Like maybe this wasn’t the first time it had crossed his mind. Like perhaps some part of him was even looking forward to it.
Am I?
I couldn’t think about it.
“When we get out there,” Marta said. “Let the magic guide you. Open yourself up to it. Whatever happens stays here. It’s just us.”
Atlas nodded, and I agreed. Later, after she’d gone to bed, my brother and I stayed in the parlor, lounging on the antique couches with a bottle of whiskey between us.
“C’mon, man,” I said. “It’s just you and me now. How you doing?”
Atlas ran his index finger over his eyes and sighed. “I’ve been better.”
