Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Puppy
   by Nysidra
   Occult Romance (MF, magic, sadist / masochist)
Summary: Zaria falls for the introverted mage, Seth
   <->
   Zaria paused in her sketch.  She tapped the end of her pencil on Karen's
leg.  "Pay attention," she whispered.
   Karen was here witness the phenomenon she'd happily been experiencing
for the past few weeks.
   Zaria pretended to sketch while Seth and his friends entered the room.
All of them were easy on the eyes, but Seth had a confident air about him
that enthralled her.  Every time she looked at him she felt buoyant, giddy.
If only he would open his mouth and ask something of her, anything, she
would give it without question.  Her fantasies about him, about anyone,
really, were illicit, too salacious to give voice to ...  not again.
   Now that she had him close, Zaria would not reveal her frayed edges,
things that would drive him away.  Dangerous.  That's what she saw in him:
adored, secretly craved.
   Zaria let Seth get away with his eccentric behavior because of his
mysterious silence.  It was counter to what usually attracted her, but
intriguing none the less.  She gave into the sheer ego and pleasure of
looking down into those precious dark hazelnut eyes, surrounded by his long
dark lashes, framed by his strong face.
   Tonight, he wore black denim jeans, a heavy gray sweater over a black
polo shirt.  The sneakers were a pair of black and gray Adidas.  It seemed
he had a different pair for every day of the week.  He entered the room
with his quiet prowl.  His friends, Jason and Ian, sat near Darren, Seth's
other friend.
   Seth spoke with them a moment, his voice soft, tone even, saying things
meant only for their ears.  Zaria longed to hear him speak to her that way,
telling her where he wanted her and what he was about to do to punish her.
   Zaria sighed.  So pitiful.  She had a major crush on him and there was
no relief in sight.  As if it were the natural order of things, Seth made
his way over to her and took a seat on the floor at her feet.  The action
never failed to give her the jitters, to kick her pulse up a notch and put
warmth in her loins.
   Over a month ago, Karen had suggested she frequent this small coffee
shop on the edge of town.  For ten dollars she could hang out for hours. 
The coffee was quality and the drinks were well made.  The building had
rooms for using the computers, playing pinball machines, cards, or watching
movies, and other rooms for conversation.
   Coming here beat doing nothing at home, failing to move beyond her break
up, berating herself.  One night Zaria found this room, second floor, last
room on the right.
   The core group consisted of an esoteric study group.  They were a cold
bunch, ignoring her and anyone else who wandered in the room.  They stared,
talked around outsiders, used code and inside jokes to their full extent.
The tactic was successful.  Many of the people who wandered into the room
uninvited did not return.
   Zaria nearly took that same unspoken advice to stay away, but each
evening she returned.  They ignored her, but she wasn't trying to talk to
them.  She wanted to be among their energy.  She was around people without
feeling pressured to interact.  Instead, she concentrated on her sketches.
Their reluctant tolerance of her presence trumped sitting at home crying
until her head ached and eyes swelled.
   After two weeks of stubbornly showing up, she overheard them trying to
describe their thoughts on an entity's appearance.  They compared visions
and studied writings regarding the creature.  Zaria made the sketch as she
listened to entertain herself.  She had no plans to show it off, but Ashley
expressed the wish to see it drawn out.
   Zaria held her sketch pad up.  The room was silent for a moment.  There
must have been some cue, some small gesture of acceptance, because they
encouraged her to continue.  She wasn't fully accepted, but the cold stares
ended.
   She did not take the small concession as an allowance to fully
participate.  Not that she could if she wanted to, Zaria wasn't a member of
their group and didn't have any experience with their particular belief
system.  There were so many to choose from that she only knew a handful of
the most popular by name.
   Seth had not been there to witness her triumphant sketch.  She'd only
seen him couple times in the weeks before, but not to stay.  It was the
third evening after she'd produced the drawing that he walked in, looked at
her, paying her attention for the first time, and sat at her feet.
   Zaria could not think of a single word to say.  She didn't want to know
why, didn't want to stop him.  The two people with him that night, Jason
and Darren, did not laugh or even make a jovial teasing comment.  Ashley
and Neil were also there.  Other than a glance in his direction to say
hello, he did not attempt to interpret Seth's behavior.  No one, as usual,
said anything to her.
   He was like a precious stray puppy, finding a spot at her feet each
time. It wasn't a trait she found endearing, attractive, or desirable, not
normally, not given the type of men she gravitated towards.  Then again,
her attractions only led to heart break, injury, and disgrace.
   Karen gave Zaria a sly smirk.  She sifted through the sketches on the
table.  "I'll take these three with me and get started." She reached into
her purse and handed Zaria an envelop.  "This is your share from the show I
did last week.  I'll be out of town doing another circuit for the next two
weeks.  Call me if anything comes up."
   "Will do." Karen made and sold jewelry and sculptures.  Zaria designed
the pieces and Karen made them reality.  Karen couldn't draw and needed
help getting out of her design rut.  Zaria enjoyed drawing, but wasn't in
the mood to market her work as paintings.  Theirs was a symbiotic
partnership that had worked well over the years.  Zaria's share would pay
rent and utilities on her apartment for another two months.
   Once Karen was gone, Zaria rearranged herself on the chair and lightly
brushed her fingers through Seth's gorgeous thick mess of soft dark brown
curls.  No one watched her as she did this, what little shock and awe there
was of their silent affection died down after the first week.  She figured,
if he was going to sit there, she could touch him.  It took a few days to
get from the notion to the action.  Her fingers trembled as they crept
toward their goal.  She let her fingers rest just on the top of his head
and he leaned into her, much like a cat giving the green light.
   Conversations continued without missing a beat.  Zaria assumed she was
one lucky girl in a string of many, chosen as someone he liked and wanted
to sit beside.  It was his thing.  Everyone had a quirk.  He was
devastatingly handsome, but unfortunately, the quirk of someone who would
sit at her feet was not the kind of key that would fit into her lock.
   This was probably best.  It would benefit her to remain closed off,
unsolved.  She was happy to have him near her.  It went a long way toward
helping ease the pain in her heart.
   The lack of teasing in the room was a twist Zaria had not yet figured
out.  She assumed it had to do with his demeanor, which seemed at odds with
his seat.  Maybe it was his figure?
   Under those straight cut jeans and sweaters was a large, muscular man.
She saw the evidence in the way he moved.  When he spoke, others hushed to
listen, but like the others, he never spoke to her.  Zaria wished he would,
hoped he would.  Though she couldn't pinpoint the reasons, she was
attracted, drawn to him, even if it wouldn't go anywhere, she yearned for
more.
   Zaria moved her fingers from his hair to his neck.  She wanted his whole
back, indeed, his whole body, but she would settle for getting that sweater
off him.  If he was malleable to sit at her feet maybe she could try her
hand at making him wear clothes that allowed her easier access.
   The idea alone was silly.
   All she got was the tilt of his head.  Zaria imagined her hand easing
down the front of his body, her finger tips grazing his chest.  Would his
skin feel smooth or wisps of hair tickle her fingers?  Would he turn, place
a kiss to her forearm?  A kiss, the swirl of his tongue, then she'd feel
his teeth, a firm bite into the flesh until she whimpered for mercy.
   Zaria huffed and cleared her dirty mind.  Daydreaming and fantasies. 
All she could do was imagine, and she shouldn't even do that much.  Seth
had not given her anything beyond this limited interaction, and she wasn't
the type of girl to take what had not been offered.
   She eased her fingers to his throat, felt the vibration as he
participated in the ongoing conversation.  Now that she'd been listening to
them for a while, she had a few comments, responses, some way she could
test how much they had accepted her, but she feared doing something that
would make him choose another girl to sit under.  She didn't want to lose
this contact with him.
   He didn't seem like the one in control, but Zaria felt shackled all the
same.
   Just her imagination.
   Zaria sketched, sometimes jewelry or sculptures, other times the topic
of discussion, but she didn't talk, did not attempt to ingratiate herself
with the others.
   The conversation this evening took the rare turn toward the mundane:
music and movies.  Zaria set her pencil aside and paid keen attention to
his answers.  She drank in every morsel of information she could, realizing
how hungry she was to know more about him.
   "Have you seen it?" Darren asked.
   Zaria lifted her head.  They were looking at her, the others, not Seth.
"Last week.  I didn't think the basement scene made sense.  The director
appeared to be assuming information."
   Jason nodded.  "He was.  It was a nod to the historical account of the
story."
   That was the way she became included.  They spoke to her the rest of the
evening, asking her opinion, listening when she offered her input
unprompted.  Seth never said anything to her directly and she never
directly replied to him.  It was a delicate dance that kept her on edge the
rest of the evening.
   Zaria liked this place, this room, the group even more.  She wasn't in
the bar drowning her self pity and loathing, until the depressing, internal
questions began to slur.  No one here knew the agony in her heart, the
twisted way her mind worked, the things she'd pushed herself into doing ...
having done to her.  No, no one needed to know that.  She didn't have to
answer: how have you been?  what happened with him?
Or the worse: have you thought about seeing someone professionally about
this?  She was a stranger here, blissfully so.  No one knew her well enough
to shun her, judge her, or pity her.
   Seth leaned his head on her thigh and his thumb caressed her opposite
ankle.
   Zaria's pencil hovered over the page, mid stroke, the tip shook like a
seismograph.  The slow caress edged higher until the cuff of her pants
blocked his progress.  He lightly pressed his nails into her skin, stopped,
caressed her, then pressed again with greater pressure, then back to
caressing her.  Each time his nails dug a little deeper.  The maddening
cycle continued while he talked to Raven about their upcoming gathering.
   Zaria could barely hear the details over the rush of blood in her ears.
Her lungs burned from holding her breath too long.  She zeroed in on the
feel of his nails, the pain, the bloom of arousal in her body.  Each time
he pressed harder.  His nails dug deeper.  She should tell him to stop. 
Why was he doing this to her?  How did he know?
   "I'll cover her fee," Seth said.
   Zaria looked up, opened her eyes.  Which her?
   Raven nodded, glanced to Zaria, then wrote on her notepad.  "All right."
   He wanted her to attend?  She suppressed a grin as she put her cool hand
to her sweating head.  She pretended to draw while she refocused on the
slow drag of his nails on her leg.
   Yes, a million times yes.  It didn't matter why or how he knew she would
like it.  If he never spoke to her, this was an interaction greater than
she dared to hope for.
   'Don't let him do this.  He won't like you if you let it continue. 
He'll grow to hate you.'
   'It doesn't matter.  I need him right now, need this.'
   'You're broken, just like he said.'
   Zaria gathered her pencils and closed her sketch pad.  His thumb grazed
over the indentions and marks, soothing the burn.  Typically, Seth would
rise with her and walk her to the room door and that would conclude the
evening.  Part of her wanted to stay here in the chair, find out how far
he'd go if she gave him the liberty.
   'Do that and you'll only open yourself to disappointment.  He'll see
what a sick and twisted woman you really are.'
   When Seth followed her beyond the door, into the hallway and down the
stairs, it was too much.  She looked at him, her eyes wide in question, her
heart running a marathon.  He waved her on, instructing her to keep
walking.
   Zaria walked.  Was she so desperate and depraved that she would follow
the indications of a man who would sit at her feet?  Seth followed close
behind, so much taller than her.  He continued to follow her out the door
and to her car.
   Seth opened his arms and she was only too willing, too eager, to walk
into them.  His embrace was warm, comforting.  If only she wasn't so messed
up, if only she were worthy of having a man hold her like this through the
night.  Zaria sighed against his chest, not if he were the type of man that
could get her engine running.
   "Did you want to go to the festival?"
   First he touched her, teased her, and now he was speaking to her? 
"Yes," Zaria lifted her head so that he could hear her.  "I'd love to, but
you don't have to pay for me."
   She inhaled deeply, trying to memorize his scent, to carry it with her
to the emptiness of her bedroom.  It was a clean, deep blue cologne,
combined with his sweat, whatever he used on his hair.
   Seth placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and released her.
   The evening chill turned colder for the loss of him and Zaria was sure
her frown was more than evident.  Was this the beginning of the end?
   He saw her frown, the boyish grin told her that.  He turned on his heel
and strode back to the lounge, never once looking back.
   Zaria growled as she got into her car.  He had such command of himself,
his environment.  Fucking tease.  Why couldn't he take command of her as
well?
   ***
   Zaria was irritable all the next day.  Her thoughts couldn't stick to
one track for more than a minute, like a frayed wire, buffeted by the wind,
whipping back and forth.  She toyed with the idea of staying home.  He
wouldn't play with her emotions.  She shouldn't let him touch her like
that. Besides, he was the one who had been sitting at her feet like a dog,
and yet she felt led around by his leash.
   Exactly what she wished for.  Some of it, but not all.  Once her secret
was out, it would be over.  He would treat her like used merchandise:
worthless, disposable.
   'Just talk to him, ask him about it, communicate with him.  There's no
rule against making a move on your own.  Just because he treated you that
way doesn't mean they all will.'
   But he might.
   She gave up on the decision to stay home, but took a while getting out
the door.  The act of choosing something to wear became its own
frustration. She didn't know what he wanted, why she wanted to know what he
wanted.  Did she wear something revealing or restrictive?  She groaned and
pushed clothes aside.  She pulled a skirt on, then pulled it off in favor
of jeans, then kicked those off in favor of a different skirt.
   Still too cold outside for a skirt.
   Wide legged jeans, with boots.
   "Fuck me," Zaria seethed as she grabbed her long skirt and knee-height
boots.  She'd give him the illusion of availability, a tease, a puzzle. 
Isn't that everything Seth was to her?  Zaria smirked at her reflection.
   "Exactly." She slipped on the duster, grabbed her purse, and headed out
the door before she could change her mind.
   Her boots crunched the gravel of the parking lot.  Seth would be inside
already.  What if someone had taken her seat?  What if he were sitting at
another woman's feet?  She looked around at the cars, wondering which car
he and his friends arrived in.
   The black Tahoe with silver detail captured her attention.  Matthew
drove a truck like that.  She scowled at the painful thought and trudged
inside.  She hated focusing on every car that looked like his, every man
with his build, every voice that resembled his.  She hated him and missed
him, but she had to move on.
   Their relationship could have ended worse.  She could have learned how
he felt about her too late in their relationship, before real damage was
done.
   Zaria leaned against the coffee bar.  She smiled at the barista and he
nodded back in acknowledgement.  She ordered the same thing with such
regularity that words were no longer necessary.  She put her money on the
bar and waited.
   A wall of muscle warmed her back.  Zaria inhaled and her breath hitched.
She remembered his crisp, autumn scent all too well.
   "I don't believe it," the familiar rough voice sent a chill down her
spine.
   Zaria turned slowly, in case the cologne she smelled was not his, in
case that same voice belonged to someone else, was for someone else.  There
he stood, her ex lover, Matthew, right behind her.
   "What are you doing in a place like this?"
   'Trying to forget you.' Zaria rummaged her brain for a better answer. 
She never spoke to him like that unless she wanted a sore ass.
   Matthew clucked his tongue.  "No lies, girl."
   "Forgetting you." The words gave her strength, helped her remember.  The
brief spike of joy she felt seeing him again fizzled and died.  She let the
old memories of hurt, anger, resentment bolster her.  "And minding my
business," she snapped.
   "Don't be like that, pet.  Step outside so that we can talk.  I've been
looking for you."
   "I don't want to talk to you, not right now.  Please, go away." Zaria
accepted her latte and headed upstairs.  He followed close behind.  Odd
that he didn't grab her by the arm or hair and snatch her close.
   Matthew grabbed her by the arm once she reached the top of the stairs.
Ah, he was waiting for privacy.
   "Don't be a brat, Zee.  I know you're not with anyone else, and I know I
was cruel.  You're angry that I hurt you, so let me make it up to you.  I
wasn't able to give you what you needed before." He kept his voice low,
speaking only to her.  "You woke something inside me that I can't let go."
   "No." It was the only word Zaria could manage.  She felt her face flush
as she looked down the hallway.  She was halfway there, only another two
doors down, her home away from home.  "Whatever I woke, you should bury.  I
trusted you and you betrayed me."
   Keep it together.  Zaria took a breath.  The cup in her hands burned her
fingers, but it was a comforting ache.
   "I don't want anything to do with you." She whispered the words, fearing
to speak any louder and reveal how close she was to crying.  Memories of
the names he'd called her, the way he treated her, the profound shame he
made her feel reminded her why she needed to resist him.  She snatched her
arm out of his hold and winced as hot coffee spilled onto her hand.  She
held the cup steady and breathed through the pain.
   'You liked that, didn't you?  You're one damaged little cunt.'
   Seth appeared, leaning in the door frame, watching them, his head cocked
to the side.  His expression asked, what's going on here?
   "Come here.  Are you all right?" Matthew looked at her other hand.
   "Stop." She took another step away from him.
   "Zaria, don't." Matthew grabbed a handful of her hair, right at the nape
of her neck.  "I love you.  Everything I've done, I did for you.  I'm
willing to learn from those mistakes." He pulled and Zaria's stomach turned
as she felt her body responding.  "Don't you want to know what I've
learned?"
   That was the thing.  At one point, Zaria wanted him to learn, believed
that she loved him and he loved her back.  However, she also believed the
things he whispered to her, spat at her, yelled at her.  The way he held
her now, pain pouring down her neck, domineering her, it brought back all
the memories, good and bad, memories she'd spent hours in bed crying over.
It was this that caused that demon inside him to rise.  She had turned him
into the monster he became.
   "Let me go.  Talk to me right here.  I'm not leaving this building with
you." She could never trust herself with him again.  Not him.  Not anyone.
   Matthew let go, stepped back until he was opposite her in the hallway.
He finally gave an irritated glance to Seth.
   "What do you want?" Zaria prompted, regaining Matthew's attention.
   Matthew glared at her and Zaria felt herself wilt, her knee jerked and
she nearly went to her knees to beg forgiveness, but the wall held her
upright.
   "I should have called you, let you know that I hadn't given up.  I took
what you said to heart and made some changes.  You're not like everyone
else, Zaria.  I just want to make things right between us.  I crave my pet.
I have spent weeks looking for you."
   "I forgive you, Matthew, but I don't miss you."
   It was a lie, a damned lie.  She'd cried herself to sleep for weeks. 
She'd tried to qualify for alcoholics anonymous.  She loved and hated him,
needed and feared him, but she had to preserve herself first, her self
worth.  He'd been a hair's breadth from destroying her, taking her trust
and strangling her with it.  Zaria's eyes misted as the memory of his cruel
words resurfaced.
   "Go away," she gasped.
   Matthew smiled as he looked at her saddened face.  "All right, Zee. 
Fair enough.  Who the fuck is it?"
   "Excuse me?"
   "Who are you fucking now?" He shrugged and his grin broadened.  "I get
it.  You wanted to see if something else would work for you.  Try a
different mount.  Just tell me who it is, pet.  I don't care.  Whoever
stands between you and me will eat rocks."
   Zaria gaped at him.  The answer was no one, not a single soul since the
day he left her locked in that dark closet, beaten, crying, and spiritually
broken.  He wanted to know whose ass he needed to kick, as if that was
their problem.  Zaria wished there was someone, a name she could give him
to make him go away, to prove he no longer had a hold on her.  How she
wished that was the case.  In truth, no one wanted her.
   Seth approached until he stood beside her.  His height and presence
seemed to cover her like an umbrella.  "My name is Seth, and you must be
Matthew." He extended his hand, a polite smile on his face.
   How did he know Matthew?!
   "Yeah, hi man.  I'm trying to have a conversation with my--"
   "With my girlfriend.  I noticed.  I also noticed you manhandling her. 
She told you to go away.  Why haven't you listened yet?"
   Matthew's low chuckle sent ice water down her spine.  "Manhandling? 
That wasn't anything she doesn't love, trust me." Matthew leered at her. 
"But you would know that if you weren't lying."
   Zaria shriveled with shame.  Matthew knew how to reduce her to the size
of a pea.  She thought she could handle it as long as she got what she
wanted in return, but it was too much.
   Seth looked down to her.  "Would you prefer I leave you with him?"
   "No," she shook her head vehemently as Matthew chuckled.  The concept of
asking for her permission was another sign that Seth was not her boyfriend.
"Matthew," her voice trembled.  "Go away."
   Matthew cracked his knuckles.  The muscles in his shoulders jumped, but
with a single nod he turned and walked away, his footfalls heavy on the
stairs.  This wasn't over.  Matthew didn't give up on anything easily. 
Zaria had run away, changed her number, her address, and stayed away from
every club she ever visited and he still found her.
   Seth had called her his girlfriend without the slightest stutter.  It
was so casual, matter of fact, as if they'd been together for months.  To
her ears, it almost sounded true, but Matthew was right, he wasn't the type
of guy for her.
   "Thank you," she whispered.
   He swept his hand toward the door, and she led the way.  When she sat in
her usual seat, he kneeled in front of her and reached for her burned hand.
She'd forgotten about it in the midst of her profound embarrassment.  With
a napkin dampened by bottled water, he wiped her hand, between her fingers.
She watched his face while he worked.  His expression was foreign to her:
tense, reserved, deep in either thought or concentration.
   Was he angry?  Disappointed that she had a stalker ex-boyfriend?  When
he was done, Seth turned and took his place at her feet on the floor.
   Zaria nursed her coffee.  She was sure he could feel her body shivering.
Now that the confrontation was over, her nerves were a wreck.
   'He was just being nice.  Don't read anything into it.  You'll get no
pleasure from someone like him.'
   Seth had asked her for confirmation earlier.  'Do you want me to leave?'
But to Matthew he had been unwavering.  'With my girlfriend.  I noticed.'
He had such a strong and assured speaking voice.
   The fantasy of that voice giving her instruction helped to calm her
nerves.
   It was also the second time he'd asked for confirmation after making a
decision on her behalf.  She stared at the back of his head in a new light.
Was she grasping for the conclusion she wanted to reach, or was there more
to Seth than she'd given him credit for?
   Zaria smiled into her cup as she took a longer pull from the caffeine.
His arm wrapped around her boot, and she cursed her decision to wear them.
   Regardless, Matthew had a point.  She was not Seth's girlfriend.  He
didn't know how fucked she was in the head.  If he had any idea, he'd find
another place to sit.
   He was just being nice, trying to help her.  Even if he liked her, it
wasn't like that.  Her sails sagged.  It was better this way, an easy
friendship.  The thought kept her calm, kept her sane.
   "Hey," Felicia entered the room with a cellphone to her ear.  "Trevor is
back in town and wants to throw a party."
   "Does Trevor know what time it is?" Jason asked.
   "They're concerned about the time." She listened and then laughed. 
"Accommodations provided," she answered.  "Provided?  Are you finished with
the house?  Fucking sweet!  Yeah, I'll ask." She looked at Seth, but didn't
actually ask a question.
   Seth gave her a single nod.
   "Yes!" Felicia squealed into the phone.
   Everyone in the room, their core group, lit up.  She had never met nor
heard about Trevor, but he seemed very familiar to everyone else.  The
knowledge that he had finished his house dominated the excited chatter as
they gathered their belongings, negotiated transportation, inquired about
what they needed to pick up.  Cellphones came out of pockets and purses.
   Zaria turned toward planning of her own.  Matthew had found her.  He
still didn't know where she lived or he would have cornered her there.  He
was probably waiting in the parking lot to follow her home.
   She could try and wait him out, maybe go into one of the other rooms,
expand her social circle.  She might be able to call Karen, hide out with
her.  Anything would be preferable to facing him tonight.  She wasn't
strong enough.  Their conversation in the hall taught her that much.
   The room thinned out, their excitement seemed a counter point to her own
malaise and dread for the days to come.
   Seth rose and offered her a hand up.  She tossed her empty coffee cup
and was glad she didn't bring her sketch pad.  Her hands would not have
been steady enough for the work.
   "We need to stop by Target on the way," he said.  "Do you mind?"
   Zaria froze.  She'd heard him, but an appropriate response eluded her.
We.  Stopping.  On the way.  Did she mind?
   "Not at all," her answer was barely audible, but he accepted it.  In a
fog, she walked downstairs and outside.  The black Tahoe was still out
there.  She was glad to have Seth with her, pretending or not.
   "Took you long enough," Matthew taunted.  He sat on the hood of her
Acura.
   Zaria unlocked her car doors and she walked to the driver's side.  She
ignored him.  She would drive off with him on the hood if he didn't move.
   Seth took the silent route as well, getting in on the passenger side.
   "You'll get bored of him, Zee." Matthew spoke in a matter of fact tone.
He looked at Seth.  "You don't know her like I do.  She's pissed with me
now, but she loves me.  I know you love me, Zee.  Enjoy the evening with
your adorable friend." With two harsh slaps on the hood, the way he used to
slap her ass, he smiled and walked away.
   Once upon a time, she really did love him, love the way he took command
of her.  It was what he did with that command that ruined her.  Zaria
cranked her car and pulled out of the parking lot.  She started a mental
map to the nearest Target.  She could do that.  She wouldn't think about
how he managed to embarrass her yet again.  The silence became too much,
too many thoughts of Matthew.
   She glanced over to Seth, "We may actually be forced to talk to each
other now."
   He shrugged.  "We may not talk much, but we're always communicating."
   Zaria wanted to poke fun at that statement, but she seemed to know what
every touch, tilt, caress he gave her meant.  Well, she'd assigned meaning
to them, desperately wanted there to be some hidden message.
   When she played with his hair, rubbed his neck, traced the contour of
his earlobe, wasn't she trying to tell him something?  Take me, fuck me,
hurt me, please, please, stand up and take ownership of me.  Was he
listening?  Did Zaria truly want someone to answer her wounded cry again?
   "Did you mean what you said to Matthew?"
   "As far as he's concerned, yes."
   "As far as I'm concerned?"
   "You should know I'm worse than him."
   "Worse?" Zaria dried her palm against her skirt.  How could he say
something like that?  He didn't know what he was talking about.  He wasn't
like Matthew at all!  The response jarred her, filled her head with a
million questions.  What could he possibly be referring to?
   "As if you couldn't already tell, I'm not mentally normative.  What if
he was actually your boyfriend?  Did you wonder how I might act, knowing I
was already in that position?"
   Zaria stared wide eyed at the road.  What alternate reality had she
fallen into?  Matthew left her, but there had never been an official
breakup, only months of silence.  Of course it never crossed her mind. 
That Seth thought anything about her beyond 'like' was pure, indulgent
fantasy.
   "I don't even know you, Seth." She took another breath.  "Worse, how?"
   Was he going to cut down her self worth at every opportunity?  Make her
feel profound shame for her desires?  Embarrass her, humiliate her, demean
her?
   Zaria pulled into the parking lot.  She would let him run his errand
then drop him off at Trevor's.  Matthew didn't follow them which meant he
wouldn't find her at home.  She was safe for tonight.
   "I'm possessive, territorial, and prone to violence." He turned and
gathered the end of her skirt until he could place his cool hand against
her burning thigh.  He caressed her then pressed his nails into her flesh
as if to prove a point.  "I have appetites some might say are best left
unfulfilled."
   Didn't she know it.  Unprepared for the sudden pain, Zaria closed her
eyes and moaned.  She shuddered, then her muscles relaxed.  Moisture
increased the damp in her panties.  She made a small involuntary thrust
with her hips as her thighs parted.  Such a slut, just like Matthew
claimed.
   "How do you think I ended up with him in the first place?"
   "He's quite the gentleman as far as exes go." He traced the crease of
her thigh along the seam of her panties.  "He's not going to touch you.  No
one takes what is mine."
   Zaria stifled the mewing whine that nearly escaped.  "Matthew is a lot
more than prone to violence.  He's also patient.  I'm the one that left
him, by the way." After she got out of the closet.  Zaria's eyes were still
closed, but her mind focused on the sting and the pleasure of his hands. 
It had been too long for her, and all her decadent fantasies rose to the
surface.
   "Baby girl," he whispered.  "He wasn't what you needed." He nibbled her
ear lobe and his fingertips brushed over the outside her panties, over her
pussy.  "I won't be long." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and briefly
squeezed her thigh before hopping out the car.
   Zaria reclined her seat and lay in the car, stunned, staring at the
ceiling.  She squeezed her thighs together.  What in the world was she
doing?  Trading one nut case for another?  At least she had been fucking
Matthew, getting what she needed.
   'Baby girl, he wasn't what you needed.'
   Zaria nearly climaxed to those words.  Such a bold assertion.  How did
he know what she needed?  How had he known Matthew?
   Bold.  She never would have connected that description with Seth, but
she found a hidden side to him in the basement of his personality.
   Did she move forward this this man or go back to the devil she knew? 
Matthew said he would make it up to her.  How could he erase all the
terrible things he called her, the torment, the sorrow he caused?
   Zaria's passions cooled as she realized how much pain Matthew would have
to make up for.  Why had he bothered to find her?  No one else willing to
be treated like a borrowed slave?
   'No one takes what is mine.'
   She grinned.  Fuck Matthew.  Fuck his timing.  Fuck him for thinking she
would be waiting.  She traced the indention of Seth's nails into her thigh.
Happy thoughts.
   ***
   Seth returned, tossing two shopping bags in the back seat of her car. 
She inclined her seat and cranked the car.  Where was she headed?
   He gave great driving directions, better than having a GPS in her car.
She liked the sound of his voice, telling her where to go, each order clear
and direct.  Zaria was a little unnerved by the distance and remote
location, tall trees were on either side of the road now.  She took the
turn onto the private drive and was awed by the property.  It was a stately
home, big enough to provide those promised accommodations.
   Was she expected to stay the night as well?  Zaria sighed.  Why hadn't
she thought about that earlier?  She wasted her time with her own mind reel
of dangerous erotica.
   Seth reached for the shopping bags and pulled them into his lap.  He
pulled the tags off the duffel bag and began stuffing it with other, new,
de-tagged clothing and unboxed hygiene items.  When he finished, he gave
the bag to her.
   He'd taken no longer than twenty minutes to buy her an overnight bag and
everything to go in it.  She couldn't even argue about his choices, down to
the pack of condoms he didn't appear the least bashful about.
   All this for her?  Where was the stuff for him?
   "Creepy," she whispered with private glee as they exited the car.  It
was the kind of creepiness that meant he thought about her, paid attention
to her, liked her.  Stalked her?  Obsessed over her?  His keen attention of
knowledge about her couldn't have been a whim, or friendly gesture.
   The moment she thought she had him pegged he went and wriggled out of
her grasp.
   Darren met Seth among the row of cars and tossed him a backpack.  Oh, so
that's where his things were.  Darren waved to Zaria and joined them on the
walk up to the house.
   The phone tree must have been hard at work with this group.  There were
already several others inside talking, smiling, hugging, and catching up
when they entered.
   'I don't belong here.' The thought was strong and clear in Zaria's mind.
She wasn't a member of their group, didn't share their beliefs, had no
history with them.  The feeling of alienation was immediate and visceral.
   Zaria thought herself a beautiful woman, tall, shapely, easy on the
eyes, if damaged in the head, but these people didn't know about that.  Her
sense of alienation had little to do with her ethnicity.  She just wasn't
one of them.
   Seth slipped his hand into hers, adding weight to her suspicion.  A
bald, thin, muscular man walked over to them, a gracious smile on his face.
   "Seth, nice to see you again." He glanced to Zaria, but said nothing
about her or to her.  "I'm glad you could make it.  If you need anything,
let me know.  Check out the third floor first.  The rooms up there have a
great view of the lake."
   "Thank you." Seth held her hand as he climbed the stairs to the third
floor.  The rooms were all made up as guest rooms.  "He inherited this
place and turned it into a lakeside bed and breakfast.  It's been his dream
and labor of love for the past eight years." Seth entered the fourth room
and closed the door behind them.  Only then did he release her hand.
   Zaria stood near the door as he took their bags and placed them on the
bed.  He looked around the room, checking the closets, drawers, under the
bed.  He pulled back the curtains and looked out the windows.  She followed
him with her eyes, checking out his frame, hating the clothes that covered
so much.  She couldn't let herself get sucked back into the same kind of
relationship with Matthew.
   She shouldn't have been trying to get into a relationship at all.  Oh
well.
   She walked over to him and unzipped his jacket.  "What are you looking
for?"
   "I like to be aware of my surroundings." He looked down at her hands.
   Her hands shook, but she stayed to her purpose and pushed the jacket off
his shoulders.
   "Someone have it in for you?" The shirt fit him.  She could make out the
outline of his pectorals.  She wanted to feel how firm they were or weren't
but she didn't, couldn't.  Zaria had exhausted her ability to be forward.
   He took her hands and lowered them to his belt.  "I can name one
person."
   Zaria blushed as she unfastened the leather belt.  It looked to be
quality, like much of the clothing he wore.  "I need you to take the lead
here.  I'm ...  I'm not..."
   He pulled his belt off and the sound put gooseflesh along her arms.  "I
have it, but you want something from me I haven't decided to give you yet."
   Zaria dropped her eyes and stared at the rug on the hardwood floor in a
daze.  'I have it.' She swallowed the lump in her throat.  Was she asking
for too much?
   "Affection?" Her voice rose uncomfortably with the question.  She bit
her lip and shook her head.  She needed this too much.  "Okay, fine.  Yes,
you have it."
   "Unfortunately, affection isn't what I have planned for you and
certainly not what you need."
   "How would you know?" Zaria frowned at him.
   Seth pointed to the bed.  "Bend over it."
   She leaned over and placed her hands on the mattress.  He lifted her
skirt and her tremors began in earnest when he pulled her panties down to
her knees.
   This was how she and Matthew started.  A little harmless fun.  A little
edge to get her over the hill.  A bit of play that turned to genuine
cruelty.
   "Kick them off and spread your legs."
   She panted, and her face burned red.  Between her legs she ached, and
judging by the cool air on her labia, he could see how wet she was. 
Begging for it ...  like a slut.  She hung her head as she spread her legs,
waiting for the harsh words, the demeaning names.
   "Very beautiful," he whispered as his hand brushed up and down the
length of her thigh.  "Lift your ass up.  Good."
   The cool air turned cooler.  She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh and
relaxed into the position.  Nothing in mind, just like he said.  He just
wanted to look at her.
   "Believe me, Zaria.  You are mine, and I am extremely possessive. 
Believe that I know what you need because I want those needs fulfilled.  I
will fuck away your heartache, erase every tear, and dim each pleasant
memory of ...  of what's his name, but not now."
   Her eyes stung with tears of shame.  She wanted everything he offered so
badly.  She would have begged if she thought it would help.  She hated how
she felt, bent over, expecting nothing, wanting everything, so wanton, so
hungry.  Hadn't she been patient enough, tortured enough?
   Zaria hitched her breath.  Fucking her, wouldn't that be grand?
   "Why do you sit at my feet?" It was a random question, but she figured
she'd get a better result with it as opposed to, why can't you fuck me
right now, right here?
   A soft whoosh then the bite of impact, just under her left cheek, the
belt lit a fire on her thigh.  She grunted and fisted the sheets.
   "To soften your defenses," he answered.  No mention of the sharp smack
on her ass.
   Zaria blinked her eyes open.  The blooming warmth of her thigh soothed
her.  "Why do you have me spread like a whore if you refuse to use me like
one?" A whore, because that's the only kind of person who would allow
herself to be treated this way.
   Another whoosh that landed on her right thigh.
   "I have the reigns, Zaira, not you.  You need a reminder." Seth smacked
her again.  Burn spread along her ass.  "And," he smacked her again, "I
wasn't sure you'd do it."
   Zaria cried out into the mattress.  Fuck!  "I'd do anything you asked of
me."
   He stroked her back as if petting a cat.  "Take what I give you.  Count
down from ten."
   Ten more lashes: too few, too beautifully placed, intense.  When it was
over, she preferred the belt to being fucked.  She wouldn't have gotten off
from sex alone, but now that her arousal slicked down the inside of her
thighs, if she touched herself she would orgasm within seconds.
   Zaria couldn't move, couldn't even collapse.  She heard the buckle as he
looped it back through his pants, then his cool fingers along the whelps on
her thigh.  His hand found the moisture between her thighs and spread it on
the back of her ass, down the backs of her thighs, into her whelps.
   "I know you need far more than this," he spoke softly, as if assuring
her that he was aware.  "Trust me, Zaria."
   She seemed frozen in that moment, a bark of laughter held tight in her
throat.  As if she hadn't done more than was sane?  Trust him to do what?
She didn't know him that well, and yet, he'd just spanked her naked ass
with his belt.
   "All right," she spoke carefully, more aware than ever that he had
warned her of the two worse things about himself: crazy and prone to
violence.  "You have my trust."
   He pulled her skirt down and pulled her to standing and wrapped his arms
around her.  "Do you feel better now?"
   Light headed, horny, and invigorated?  Zaria smiled.  "Much better," she
whispered.  She looked down to her panties lying on the rug.
   "Leave them." He put his arm around her waist and turned for the door.
"You need to be made to scream, to cry, for there to be no room to doubt
the depth of your experience."
   No.  Don't tell him.  Trusting him had been easy to say, but harder to
do.  Where she'd been on fire in the room, now she was ice cold and afraid.
"I guess." She felt as if rocks amassed in her stomach as they rejoined the
party.
   He fell back into his passive, quiet, observant nature, only speaking to
answer another's question.  The self-assured dominant had not left, now
that she'd gotten a good look, she could see what she had only imagined in
those earlier weeks.  He controlled his interactions with others,
controlled and kept them set apart.
   'I have it.' He had her, firmly committed to her lust of him.  Her rear
stung and burned and throbbed, begging for more, bereft of completion, on
edge in all respects.  She made paltry attempts to mingle, but her thoughts
were too afloat, too scattered, and there was still the feeling that she
didn't belong.
   While Seth was busy listening to someone else, Zaria slipped away to the
dimly lit pool area.
   "I don't believe that for a second," the voice was feminine, husky.
   "Why would he bring her otherwise?" The other woman countered in her
softer, younger voice.
   "There aren't any rules against taking the edge off.  This is just a
party, and unplanned one at that.  I wouldn't pay it too much attention."
   "Maybe you wouldn't, but if I were Lydia, I'd get his ass in line. 
Felicia told me that she's been at The Den with him almost every night for
the past two weeks.  Now she's here?  She's not even a fucking initiate. 
What's the point?  If it's really about the edge, then one of us deserves
the chance."
   The woman with the huskier voice laughed.  "Careful what you wish for.
She's just a piece of tail, Carol.  Get over yourself.  You couldn't handle
him."
   "Please, my pussy isn't hand blown crystal.  I could take it." Carol
chuckled.  "Trevor says the wards are being placed at dawn.  Twenty dollars
says she runs screaming before it's over."
   More giggles and whispers beyond her ability to hear.
   They were talking about her.  She knew it.  She'd been at The Den.  She
was just a piece of tail.  She didn't belong.  No one thought she belonged
with him, especially not here, but no one would say that to his face.
   Prone to violence or known for it?
   Who was Lydia?
   Zaria eased away from the porch, confident that neither woman ever knew
she was there.  Just a piece of tail.  She had not managed that much.  She
bit on her lip as her skirt swished the whelps on her rear.  She'd left her
purse upstairs.  She could go get it, get out of here.
   She bumped into someone.  "Sorry," she lifted her downward gaze to look
at Seth.  "Oh, um."
   Had he been close enough to hear what they said?  He handed her a drink
and she drank deep, noticing the strong dosage of alcohol.
   "Did you hear them?"
   Seth nodded.  "Do you know what they were talking about?"
   "Not all of it, but they're wrong."
   "About?"
   "I don't care what happens, what they assume I am to you.  I won't
embarrass you.  I'll trust you." She emptied her cup.  "I'm more than a
piece of tail." Zaria stared out into the crowd.  "I'm yours."
   He turned her to face him and stared at her with an indiscernible
expression and took a sip of his own drink.  "Good to know you've learned
your lesson." He put his hand around her waist.  "Trevor wants me to place
wards.  I agreed to do it, and you will help me."
   Zaria blinked and her lips jerked in the effort to smile.  "This ward
thing, is it like a house warming ceremony?"
   "Security system installation, sanctification, and dedication."
   An esoteric thing.  "What do you need from me?" The words passed her
lips and filled her with a strange thrill.  He needed, wanted something
from her.
   A thin, gray haired woman approached with several papers and utensils in
hand.
   Seth reached for the items and placed them on the table next to her. 
"Pick what you'll need.  You will draw the ward."
   Zaria stared at the stiff paper and sharp objects.  None of these
utensils were useful for drawing, unless she was going to etch the ward. 
"You know I don't know very much about your practice, right?"
   "That's not relevant, but yes, baby girl, I know."
   Zaria warmed at the pet name.  It was better by miles than 'pet' as
Matthew called her.  Would it change when he learned how depraved she was?
How dirty?  Would he take to calling her a depraved slut like Matthew had?
   "The ward is for the property, for Trevor.  It should be about this
large," he traced a circle on the pad.  "You'll be working with a wet
medium."
   Zaria looked at the sharpened points, "Blood."
   "Yes."
   "Straight from the source or in something?" Like watercolor, she
reasoned as she stared at the pad.
   "You'll be the one drawing it.  Aim not to waste any."
   "I feel like everyone in this house hates me," she whispered, giving
another glance around the room.  "But I'll do my best."
   "I know you will.  As for anything else, any sensations or experiences,
don't fight it.  Open yourself to the moment.  You have nothing to fear by
my side." Seth caressed her arm, "You have an hour to prep."
   Ian approached and waved to Zaria.  "Hey." He turned to Seth.  "Did you
already pick a room?  I can walk her up, if you want."
   "No.  She's doing the inscription."
   Ian glanced to Zaria, around the room, then gave a slow nod.  "All
right." He turned and walked away.
   Not a question.  Not even an expression of doubt.  Zaria gathered the
paper and instruments into her arms.  Ian's behavior chilled her.  What
caused such unflinching cooperation?  He never rose his voice, never
repeated a word.  He gave every indication of an eccentric recluse to whom
everyone deferred, even her.  Especially her.
   Zaria marveled in his quiet authority, took comfort in it.  She had
nothing to fear.
   They set up in the center of the large great room on the first floor. 
Trevor sat on a small bench in front of her, shirtless, with a soft cotton
cloth taped to the small of his back.  Zaria kneeled on the pillow she was
given, the heavy-weight sketch pad in her lap, and the surgical tools
resting in warm disinfecting solution.
   Darren stood behind them, waiting for Seth to arrange everyone else.  It
only seemed appropriate that Darren appeared to be the one running the
ceremony while Seth appeared to be the usher.  Seth had a talent for
appearing beneath than his actual status.
   "What are you doing using her?"
   Zaria and everyone else turned to look at the balding male who so boldly
posed the question to Seth.
   "Trevor?"
   "Yes, Seth?"
   "When I told you Zaria would create your ward, what did you say to me?"
   "I said okay."
   Seth placed his finger on the man's chest and whispered something that
caused him to pale further and turn a little green.  The balding man shook
his head, eyes watering.  Seth patted him on the shoulder and moved on.
   Whatever he asked, however he spoke, Zaria knew that she never wanted to
find out for herself.  She turned and smoothed her hand down Trevor's
mottled back.  He was tanned with scattered dark brown freckles.  She had
never cut into someone before, but she knew enough to avoid hitting a nerve
or muscle.  She'd need to make a vertical line, so that the blood would
pool.
   That's what she centered her thoughts on as Darren began the ritual. 
She listened to him talk and thought about what she would draw on the
paper. From Darren's opening, the wards were a gate, a portal through which
entities from the netherworld could pass.  It would also be a lock, a
sentry, keeping out the unwanted.
   Symbolically speaking.
   Zaria's mind whirled around the design of a flat object that would
represent the ward.  She thumped Trevor's back with her middle finger
several times.  He jumped the first few times but soon calmed.  She lifted
the scalpel and made the first cut.  It wasn't a very good one.  She had to
go back and press again until the blood began to flow.
   She collected the blood into a small, shallow disk and dipped her
'quill' before sketching the basic structure.  Seth was doing something
now, but she didn't pay attention to what.  Darren's words directed her
artistic impression.  Nothing she hadn't done more than a few times, with
increasing frequency, since she'd discovered their group.
   Just like water painting.  Shame that it wouldn't be cast.  She added a
shading element in case hers would be the only copy ever made.  No one
mentioned a time limit, but the blood kept her strokes quick, mindful also
of his open wound and coagulation of exposed blood.
   Darren asked, "Do you agree to the terms of care and protection?  To
keep your guardians in reverence and demand the same respect of your
guests?"
   "I do," Trevor answered.
   Care and reverence?  They were a very theatrical group, took everything
to the max.  They were not only creating a ward, but also declaring the
property a sanctuary for the group and these guardians.  Why would they
need a sanctuary?  For all she knew, no one knew anything about them or
cared about their practices.  She had never heard of their spirits.  Sects
were a dime a dozen and few felt the need to be secretive.
   Zaria put the finishing touches on the design, cleaned Trevor's back,
removed the cotton, which she didn't have to use much for.  She was very
impressed with how little blood she wasted.  However, it was still missing
something.
   "May I...?"
   Trevor, Darren, and Seth looked at her.
   Zaria swallowed, "draw on his back?  Over the cut," she pointed to a
symbol she'd drawn in the center of her emblem.  It would only take a few
more cuts, but would physically tie the ward to its owner.
   Seth looked at the symbol and nodded.
   Zaria worked just as quickly, having a better idea of how much pressure
to apply to the cut.  It only took four strokes.  She nodded to signify she
was finished.  She handed the pad to Trevor.  He gasped sharply when he
looked at it.  Was that horror or surprise?
   "Ready?" Seth asked.
   "Yes," Trevor glanced back to Zaria as if he wanted to ask something,
but he turned back to Seth and bowed his head.
   Darren was finished speaking.  She was finished drawing.
   Seth lifted his hands and the light dimmed, not in the way a dimmer
would slowly bring down the light, but like a brown out, as if something
greater were pulling both the electricity and heat from the room.  A heavy
coil of fear settled itself deep in Zaria's gut.
   Run screaming?  No, she wouldn't do that.  She surreptitiously glanced
at everyone else.  They were all standing still, but tense, down right
apprehensive.  Seth made swooping motions with his arms and hands in the
air.
   Voices, a multitude, all increasing in volume.  The sounds were in the
room, but also in her head, like bad memories through an amplifier.  Zaria
couldn't see any of them, but the presence weighed heavily on her soul.  It
was as if the entire room had been dropped into a prison yard.  It had been
up to her to draw ...  the gate?
   Trevor stood.  He looked around as if he could perceived things she
could not.  He kept looking down at her design, then back up to the
ceiling. A grin appeared suddenly, as if there were a pleasant thought to
be had among the rising bedlam.  This sudden expression caused a look of
confusion and surprise on the others in the room, except for Seth.  He kept
his hands high and gaze steady.  The words he next spoke sounded like
gibberish, perhaps names of some sort.
   "All others," said Seth, "You are hereby dismissed.  Leave."
   Heat, light, atmosphere: it all rebounded as if the last several minutes
did not happen.
   Trevor stepped over to Seth, and whispered excitedly, clapping him on
the shoulder.
   Seth nodded, non-plussed, and took the drawing from him.  "Where do you
want it?"
   "Ceiling," he answered.
   Seth looked up to the ceiling and sang a soft chant.  A grayish violet
haze spread over the ceiling like a rolling fog bank.  It was undulating
and changing into a large mural in the shape of her design.  It was like a
projection, it was mirror perfect, and then, it rose into the ceiling and
disappeared from the view.  "It is done," Seth spoke.
   It was over that quickly.  The tightly gathered circle dispersed and
expanded.  Zaria remained seated on the pillow, not sure what else she
should do, chief among these actions being standing.  Her body felt as if
it were drifting away, spreading out.  Rather than fight, she went along
with the melting sensation, all without moving.
   "That was great work," Darren smiled down at her and kissed her on the
forehead.
   "Thank you." Her voice sounded far away, weak.
   She accepted Seth's offered hand up.  He put her arm around his shoulder
and placed a secure arm around her waist.  Others cleaned up the items and
rearranged the furniture.  He led her back up stairs and back into their
room.  The moment he released her she collapsed on the bed, curled around a
pillow and stared at the wall.
   Seth lay behind her with a heavy sigh that belied his own exhaustion. 
She rolled slightly in his direction and he wrapped his arm around her,
then buried his head against her shoulder.  She smiled and stroked his
back.
   All kinds of groups claimed to be able to contact the netherworld.  It
was nothing to extend promises of great power, wish fulfillment, or contact
with spirits.  Buildings as plentiful as bars, dance clubs and coffee shops
were built by one group or another, some of them with members spread over
several states and countries.
   This group had about fifteen people in attendance tonight.  From what
Zaria heard of their festival, there would be a total of thirty stopping
by, which comprised the bulk of the group.  A real group that used a public
coffee shop to meet, and only now had this ranch-style hotel.
   She stared into the dark, her thoughts tumbling through her head, his
breath and her breath the only sounds in the room.
   Seth lifted his head and his lips brushed along her neck, sending a warm
rush of pleasure through her body.  He pushed her hair aside and worked his
hands down her body.  Zaria arched with a moan as his hand cupped breast
and pulled on her nipple.
   Would he hurt her with words the same way Matthew did?  How long before
he got tired of exerting himself just for her pleasure?
   Zaria tensed and gasped as she felt the jolt of sudden pain.  Goodness,
had he just pinched her?  What was that?!
   Seth kissed her with an unnerving softness, not cruel, neither impatient
nor rough.  She realized with a flutter that this was their first kiss.  He
took his time, exploring her, prying her open.  She turned to him, tossed
her leg over his hip and moaned.  Please, she quietly begged.
   He caressed the inside of her thigh and his finger caressed her outer
labia, up and down, not going where she wanted, where she needed.  His
teeth grazed her neck and then came the bite, strong, unyielding, the pain
radiated down her shoulder, up toward her cheek.  Her eyes watered, but her
body relaxed, and her thoughts calmed.
   His fingers entered her, slipped through the ample moisture of her
pussy. Zaria relaxed further.  Everything would be all right, even if that
bite was more on the painful side.  His thumb slid up and around her
clitoris, then down, dipped inside her, circled, teasing, playing, coaxing.
   Again with his teeth: sharp, terrible little things that created a pain
more acute than she ever thought a bite could be.  When he relaxed his jaw,
she marveled at the strength, the perfect application of tension that
caused her pain without breaking her skin.
   Uninhibited, she rocked her hips against his fingers, opened her legs to
his hands.  She unbuckled the belt he had used on her earlier and
unbuttoned his jeans.  When she pushed, he lifted to assist her.  Entangled
as they were, piece by piece, each article of clothing found its way to the
floor.
   In the pre-dawn light, Seth was every bit the beast she imagined, broad
and strong, delicious to behold.  He took her thighs in his hands and set
them carefully on either side of his waist.  Then he set the head of his
cock at her pussy and pressed into her.
   Zaria cried out into his shoulder.  She felt so small around him.  Had
her abstinence been that effective?  Had she ever been this tight with
Matthew?  Zaria's head rolled back as he sank deeper, filling her,
stretching her.  Seth moaned and gasped as he worked himself deeper inside
her.
   Could she learn to just enjoy this?  Did she always need her sex to be
depraved?  She gripped his shoulders as their mouths met in a hungry kiss.
   It didn't matter about the future, right now she was getting everything
she secretly wanted.  Seth put his hand around her throat, not choking her,
this grip was far gentler, far more masterful, with just the pinch of his
fingers he was able to cut off her windpipe, and then he'd let go,
adjusting his hand to cut off her circulation instead.
   He kept his face right beside hers, his pace never slowed or eased.  He
switched between cutting off her blood or air supply at random, throwing
her off balance.  Zaria took each opportunity to breathe to do only that,
not having time or sanity to form words.
   Her whole body tingled with the promise of an orgasm far more dizzying
and overwhelming than she'd ever thought possible.  Her moans gained in
volume, her body rolled against his.  Her heart hammered in her chest and
light-headed euphoria washed over her.  Each of Seth's powerful thrusts,
timed with the tightening of his grip around her throat, took her further
away from mental stability.
   'He might hurt me.  I need to stop this.  This isn't right.  I could
die.'
   "I've got you," Seth whispered in her ear.  "Relax and let go.  Don't
panic.  I have you."
   Zaria whimpered, unable to say or do much else, especially breathe now
that he had constricted her throat.  How did he know that she panicked? 
Her body hadn't reacted to her thoughts, had it?
   "My beautiful Zaria," Seth purred, "open yourself to me.  Let go.  I'll
be right here to catch you.  Come for me, Zaria." He practically growled
the order in her ear.
   Zaria shuddered and exploded, only too eager to obey.  Her mind
resisted, echoes of the harsh words from Matthew rose from the pits of
painful memory.
   Seth whispered.  "Hush now, don't be afraid.  I want to feel you, all of
you, open yourself." Back to growling in her ear again as he squeezed her
throat.  "Do it, Zaria."
   Her body and soul gave into the command, the beginning of her orgasm
bloomed and brightened.
   "I'm yours," she gasped.  Somewhere, some place deep in her mind, she
ignored the voice that screamed at her to stop saying those words.  She had
finally relaxed, opened to him, mentally and physically, the soul wrenching
orgasm and lack of oxygen didn't hurt.  He had barreled straight through
all her defenses in one evening.
   "Mine?"
   "Yes, everything is yours."
   With a groan of satisfaction his pace increased.  Her mental warnings of
going too far were drowned by his seductive moan of pleasure.  Her own
safety, her thoughts of being dirty, depraved, or demented ceased to
intrude.
   A second, stronger orgasm like an explosion ripped through her.  Her
body became a fireworks display, nerves burned white hot then ice cold,
color blasted before her eyes.  She clung to him, the only thing that
persisted, his body inside hers, mind inside her own, so deeply nestled
within, no defense, no guard, fully possessed.
   The transition from that plateau to lying on her side, half asleep, was
fuzzy.  The sky had fully brightened.  Birds chirped and squirrels
chattered.  People walked up and down the hallways and stairs.
   Her body felt weak, beaten, as if she'd been punished for some horrible
crime.  She wanted to cry, but didn't know why.  She felt violated, her
soul raped of all vestiges of innocence, and it felt so damned good.  Was
this what she'd been craving all that time?  Was this what it felt like to
find satisfaction?
   Remember how dangerous it was to get here?
   Before the first warm tear could spill onto her cold cheeks, Seth
gathered her into his arms, pulled her onto his body so that she rested on
his expansive chest.
   "Go back to sleep," his voice was soft, gentle, "I'll be right here with
you."
   Like a child having woke from a nightmare, she clung to him, seeking the
security he promised as she drifted off.
   ***
   Zaria woke again to what was probably early afternoon.  The sun was well
into the sky.  Seth was propped against the headboard reading.
   The evening came back gradually.  All those terrifying orgasms, the
feeling of helplessness, surrender, domination, euphoria, and that
harrowing sensation of vulnerability.  She could remember those things, but
felt none of it now.  Despite her experience with rough sex and the games
she enjoyed playing, she had never felt so profoundly taken over.
   Zaria stretched and pushed herself upright.  She felt wonderful,
renewed, but not humiliated or ashamed.  She was still naked she felt
clean, warm.  She smelled her arm.  Lavender.
   Seth watched her as if he could knew her thoughts.  "How do you feel?"
   "Well rested, good," she blushed.  "Did I ...  have I been awake
already?"
   "I covered you with lotion while you slept."
   Zaria blushed as she imagined his hands on her.  Did they know each
other well enough for that?  Had she really been awake earlier though, or
had it been some sort of dream?  She looked at him, sitting there, as
unassuming as always.  Quiet and reserved, almost the look of someone who
might be submissive as she wrongly assumed so many times before.  The
feelings of lust crept back, bringing to mind ideas of further slutty
adventures.
   Seth, still staring at her, closed his book and set it aside.
   She pulled the covers back and positioned herself between his legs.  He
was hard even before she leaned over and took him into her mouth.  No
wonder she felt beaten.  The man was thick, long.  Her tongue made circles
around the swollen crown as she got an up close view of a cock she'd only
seen in porn.  She cupped her hand around his balls and brought her mouth
down over him.
   He stroked her back and moaned, lifting his hips to meet her mouth.  She
took her time, working her lips and tongue over the length of him, using
both her hands to make up for her inability to get him fully inside her.  A
few times she tested how deeply she could suck him into throat.  Once or
twice she nearly made it.
   Seth pulled her up into his lap.  She flinched and pressed her hands
against his shoulders, trying to get away from him.  She wanted to run as
far away as possible.
   'What in the hell is wrong with you?!'
   "Easy, baby girl." He held her firm.  He didn't sound the least
surprised by her reaction.  "It won't be like that.  Let me show you."
   "I don't understand," her eyes watered in confusion.
   "Trust that I do," he kissed her and eased her down onto him.  He
wrapped his hand around her waist as she rode him.
   She took her time, settled into a gentle, languid rhythm.  She kissed
him and her hands rounded his shoulders and wrapped around his neck.  There
was no feeling of being swallowed, lost, consumed.  She pressed her body to
his, took the kiss deeper as she worked herself toward another orgasm.  Her
hips trembled and she moaned deep in her throat as her climax approached.
   "There you go.  That's a good girl." He kissed her neck and caressed her
stinging ass.  "Fuck me, Zaria.  Ride my dick."
   She threw herself at him with abandon, whimpering, seeking her release
and trying to conjure a memory in the past when sex felt nearly so good. 
Her hips rolled and bounced on him.  It had never, not ever.  Zaria's whole
body tensed as she came.  She felt Seth swell, his grip as her ass
tightened as he thrust himself urgently up into her.
   Still entangled, they locked in a kiss that seemed unending, their lips
and tongues belying a passionate affection.  She tasted the salt of her
tears as they met at her lips.  There was nothing worth doing today that
was better than being right here.  Spent as they both were, her hips still
rocked against his, her vaginal walls squeezed his softening cock, willing
a return to firmness.
   "Want more?" He purred in her ear as if offering some illicit drug.
   "Yes," she readily admitted.  And yet she was afraid of him just a few
moments ago.  Why?
   "You're a greedy little girl, aren't you?"
   Girl, not slut, but she was a slut, a pain slut, unable to be happy with
a simple sexual encounter.
   "I asked you a question." He pinched her to make his point.
   "Yes." She attempted to bury her head in his chest, but he held her by
the hair and kept her eyes on him.
   "How much more do you want?" His other hand pulled and twisted on her
nipple, not enough to be painful, but enough to let her know it could be if
she wanted.
   Her vaginal walls squeezed around him again.  Oh, how she wanted it,
wanted everything he could give her, as much or more than she could take.
The thought sobered her sex-crazed mind.  What would possess her to think
such a thing?  Was she really so depraved?
   "More than I deserve." She stopped grinding in his lap and he allowed
her to lay her head on his shoulder.
   Seth's nails whispered up and down her back, circled her bottom and
rounded her shoulders.  "You deserve to have your desires fulfilled.  That
and more."
   "I know what that makes me."
   "I know what someone may have told you, but you knew better.  Didn't
you?"
   "Yes, but..."
   He patted her twice on the butt and she flinched, thinking he was going
to smack her again.  "Get up and lay face down on the bed."
   She lay down as he directed and looked over her shoulder.  He straddled
her thighs, leaned over and kissed her on the shoulders, her back.
   He massaged her as he spoke.  "I like the rush of dealing out pain, the
soft whimper when you take it.  I made you scream last night, but not
much." He kissed his way to her neck.  "I'll ask you again.  How much more
do you want?"
   "Remember that thing you said last night?  About needing to cry, to
scream?"
   "I do." He stretched out over her back.  He was hard again, his erection
firmly placed between her warm cheeks.
   "I want that.  I wish I knew what it would be like without being made to
feel terrible afterwards."
   "And I wanted to hear you say it." He took her wrists in his hands and
pinned them to the bed in his fists.  He pulled back, letting his cock
slide down her ass and then found her heat and sank into her.
   "How did you know?"
   "The look in your eyes," he chuckled and then moaned.  "But I was sure
when I took the chance to get my nails in you." To accentuate the point he
released her wrist and dug those nails up her arm, down her side, slowly,
leaving a stringing whelp in their wake.
   Did he file those things to a point or something?  Zaria whimpered into
the mattress, whimpered and moaned.  It hurt, and the angry slap on her
tender ass was an exclamation point to the tirade on her her body.
   More.
   'No, Zaria.  Make him stop.'
   Please.
   Her own thoughts, guilty and greedy, were at odds.
   Seth silenced those worries with his whispered praise, "Precious baby
girl.  That pretty ass of yours is on fire."
   It wasn't a question.  Zaria sniffled and her hips arched, begged for
that fat cock of his to drive deeper, to blot out the pain, to twist it
back into pleasure.  What was wrong with her?  To want this ...  to
honestly need it?
   Seth slowed in his thrusts and Zaria's eyes flew open.  What was he
doing?  She'd been so close.
   "Seth?" She whispered.
   "Yes, Zaria?"
   "Um..."
   He bit her on the neck, just beside her shoulder and the growl made her
whine and mutter, but he didn't move.  He was rock hard inside her and she
needed just a few more thrusts.  She screamed into the mattress, her body
cringed and shuddered as he bit her again, smacked and pinched her ass. 
When he began to stroke her, steady and calm, she felt her body unravel,
the orgasm turned her vision white.
   "There you go," he heard his husky whisper as he kept up his relentless
assault on her body.  "That's my good baby girl."
   She was still crying when he came inside her, whispering his praise of
her beauty, her tight pussy, the music of her tears.
   It was far better than Zaria had ever imagined, far scarier.
   If this was the beginning, how would it end?
   ***
   Zaria had to hold tight to the railing as she walked downstairs to
rejoin the others.  A large spread of food awaited them on a buffet table.
No matter what happened last night, what she witnessed, the attitude toward
her had not changed.  She was not one of them.  She didn't have the
knowledge they possessed, and they had a new reason to be sour with her:
jealousy.
   She took her food, a plate piled with eggs, pancakes, bacon, and
biscuits and followed Seth to a couch in an adjoining room.  Most of the
others had gathered on the back porch around a dining table.  Seth didn't
join her on the couch.  He took a seat on the carpet at her feet.
   "What are you doing?" Zaria whispered.
   Seth looked up at her, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth.  She
remembered then that no one ever questioned him.
   "You're embarrassing me," she explained.
   He set his plate on the floor and turned around until he was on his
knees in front of her.
   "Please, continue.  Embarrassed?" He kissed her knee and waited.
   She felt her face warm as those gorgeous eyes held hers.  "They already
hate me.  I don't belong here, and it's weird with you here at my feet like
some kind of puppy.  I like you and since these are your friends, I'd like
for them to like me too." Her eyes watered with the truth and rather than
anger, he only looked further amused.
   He parted her legs and kissed his way from her knee up her thigh. 
Zaria's stomach tightened with the thought that he might not stop.
   "A puppy?  Really, baby girl?" He chuckled.  "I'm quite sure puppies
prefer to be all in your lap, crawling up your chest, pawing those gorgeous
breasts, trying to lick your face." His eyes dipped to her lips.
   Or with its nose in her crotch.  She conceded his point with a sigh,
shaking her head slightly.  He may have seen it in that twisted way, but
others wouldn't.
   "Now, one of those old, large dogs, too big for a lap, the kind that
prefers to curl up at his companion's feet, keep an eye on what's going on.
Protect what he cherishes." He turned to look at the crowd of people
outside.  "You want them to like you?"
   "If I'm going to be around them."
   Seth opened his mouth as her fork played around with her eggs.  She wore
a bashful grin as she put a forkful of food in his mouth.  He chewed the
offering with a smile and swallowed.
   "I'd rather you forget about them and pay attention to me: what I want,
what I like, or sitting won't be the only thing that hurts."
   "Yes, sir." With a trembling hand, she prepared another serving and he
accepted it.
   He wore a bashful grin as she put the food in his mouth.  He kept the
boyish smile while he chewed and swallowed.  "I like looking up at you."
   She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, petted him.  Yes,
her ass certainly stung.  Her back ached and burned.  She didn't want to
upset him.  "Only you."
   "Much better," he turned around and put his plate back in his lap.
   They were alone in the room.  Both of them avoided by the rest of the
house.  Though their attitude toward her had not changed, the house had. 
It felt like a different place all together.  Full, Zaria got off her butt
and stretched out on the couch, curled around his shoulders.
   "Earlier, you said, 'not now.' The house also felt different then.  What
changed?"
   He turned and answered.  "The ceremony, of course.  Only with wards in
place can I relax fully enough to lose myself in you, and quite honestly,
that's the only way I want to enjoy you."
   She buried her grinning face in her arm.  Lose himself?  He wasn't the
only one lost.  "That was pretty overwhelming," she mumbled.
   Seth got to his feet and grabbed their plates.  "You'll get used to it.
You're a strong one."
   He didn't make her take the trip back up the stairs.  She kept to the
couch, drinking the last bit of her coffee.
   One of the women who had been whispering about her stood in the doorway.
She didn't say anything just stared and typed away on her cellphone.  The
moment Seth started coming back down stairs she disappeared.
   He brought her things down and walked her out to her car.  "Repack this
with your own stuff.  I'll stop by to get you in the evening."
   Zaria shoulder her bag, hitched her breath as it hit on of the bruises
on her shoulder.  She checked the written driving directions for the route
back to her house.  She nodded, though she didn't know what she was packing
for or how long.
   Then why don't you ask him, silly?
   "For how long?"
   "Whatever will fit in the bag," he answered.  He kissed her again, a
long, lingering kiss, as if he had nothing to do for the foreseeable
future, as if there weren't others walking pass them, getting into cars,
whispering at the sight of him holding her.  He ended the kiss with a
series of small, soft kisses.  "Get a warm bath, lotion that gorgeous ass
of yours."
   "I will."
   He pressed her against the car door and took a deep breath.  "See you
soon."
   On the road home, without him, her mind was left to process and reflect
on the insanity of the past day.  Their group was real.  He was real:
sexually and spiritually.  What he did wasn't the happy, trippy, feel-good
stuff you see out on the street.
   Was that why it felt so weird when they were in bed together?  Did that
account for some of what she was feeling?
   Which part, Zee?  The pleasure, the pain, or the run-for-your-life fear?
   Baby girl.  Oh, how her heart thrilled to hear him call her that.  It
meant he adored her, cherished her, wanted to protect her.
   It made the sting of her rear and back much easier to bear.
   She took that hot bath, soaked and relaxed.  She moisturized her body
and packed.  It was enough to last a few days before she'd need to wash. 
She worked to clean her house in a lustful daze.  Memories of the night
before, the morning after, brought on by a movement that brought to mind
another ache, another sting.
   As she recalled the timber of his voice in her ear, the struggle to
breathe, the profound sense of fear, her body warmed and tingled.  What was
that all about?  How did the memory of him to bring her such intoxication?
   Zaria lay on her couch, staring at the ceiling, letting those thoughts
and memories run free in her head.  The echo of his hands, his lips, the
intensity of his passion.  It was almost as if she could feel him beside
her.
   The knock on the door startled her, but she hopped up and hurried to
open it, taking only a second to let her aching muscles catch up.  Her face
fell when she saw her visitor.
   "Matthew."
   "Oh, pet, look at that face.  I take it you weren't expecting me?"
   She should have.  Zaria bristled.  "Why?  Should I have been?  What do
you want with a demented pervert like me?"
   "Pet." One word, cold tone.  It was nearly as effective as smacking her.
"I was wrong to say those things about you.  It was stupid, dumb, naive,
and cruel of me.  Please, Zee, I apologize for the way I treated you."
   Matthew?  Apologizing?  "What do you want?"
   "To talk to you.  I want you to understand.  I'd never done anything
like that before and it scared me."
   She huffed and crossed her arms.
   "You have every right to be upset.  I know that guy really isn't your
boyfriend, and I know you aren't going to find anyone who loves you and
cares for you like I do."
   "He really is, and you loathe me, not love."
   "You've got it wrong," Matthew smiled and walked past her toward the
couch.
   "I'm not!" Zaria spun around and clenched her fist.  "You fucked me over
and I don't want anything to do with you.  Go!" She pointed to the open
door.
   Matthew snapped his fingers and she felt it, that instinct, the desire
to bend her knee and kneel before him.  "I saw that," he said with a leer.
"You know I'd fight for you.  Don't bring trouble to your friend.  He seems
like a nice guy.  I spoke with Karen.  She told me the crowd you've been
around." Matthew shook his head.  "Spent the day checking into them. 
That's not who you are, pet."
   "The day?" Zaria waited for him to admit the exaggeration.
   Matthew nodded and smiled at her.  "All morning and a chat over lunch.
You want to feel pain?  I can give you all that and more."
   She didn't like that gleam in his eye.  That hadn't changed at all, not
when he was calling her names, beating her, fucking her raw.  It was never
about the pain, it was about how low he made her feel when dishing it.  "I
have to want you first.  I don't.  I've moved on."
   Matthew snorted.  "That friend of yours is a fucking creature.  No way
you'd know that, but I wouldn't leave you with him.  I hurt you, Zaria.  I
hurt you in a way you didn't ask for, and I'm sorry.  It won't happen
again. I missed you.  I love you.  I joined a group for people like you,
learning the right way to care for you.  I have spent every day away from
you working on a way to properly respect your submission."
   She shook her head and folded her arms against her chest, as if to
protect his attack on her heart.  Why did the words she always wanted to
hear suddenly sound so sour?  He'd truly joined a club?  Learned how to ...
what?  Respect her choices?  Wasn't that what she had demanded of him?  She
walked into the kitchen, eager to put space between them.  She had already
mourned him, moved on, put the pieces of her self esteem back together. 
The glue was just beginning to dry.
   "Whatever abilities or tricks he promised to teach you, it isn't worth
your soul."
   Promises?  Seth hadn't promised her anything.  "None of that matters.  I
don't want anything to do with you.  I don't trust you anymore."
   "It turns out I'm rather skilled with a short-tailed whip and electric
wand.  Wouldn't you like for me to show you?  I have it in the car."
   Zaria focused on breathing, staring at the counter.
   "Let me earn that trust again.  Just one night, let me turn your
beautiful skin red.  Let me reduce me reduce you to tears.  Let me hear you
beg for more."
   Her skin was already red.  "No," Zaria croaked.  "Thank you for learning
where you went wrong.  I hope your next girlfriend benefits.  Please leave.
Now." She palmed the tears from her cheeks and hung onto the kitchen
counter as if it were a life raft.
   "There won't be another because you're mine." Matthew declared at he
rose to his feet.  "I'll show you.  I'll make it right between us.  I'll
break you of that little stubborn streak you have going." His exit stopped
short at her door.
   She turned around and saw Seth standing in the hallway.  No smile, no
boyish playfulness on his face.
   "Can I talk to you?" Seth asked of Matthew.
   "Absolutely," Matthew walked out.
   "I'll meet you downstairs," Seth said to her before following Matthew
down the hall.
   Zaria hurried to gather her bag.  Matthew would swing for Seth moment
they were outside.  Matthew didn't talk, and after what she said, he wanted
to cause someone pain.  She'd witnessed him bloody a man's face, break his
arm.  Matthew fought dirty.  How much had Seth heard?  What had she said?
   She locked her door and bounded down the stairs with her bag bouncing on
her back.  Did Seth even know how to fight?  How was she going to help him
if he didn't?  She wouldn't slow down to placate her aching muscles, her
stomach felt knotted, heavy with trepidation.
   She pulled up short at the sidewalk, stunned by the sight of blood
splatter.  She stepped away from the building, circling the blood. 
Matthew's wounded groan put ice in her veins.  He was a few feet away from
the stairwell exit, the splatter led to the pool created by his bleeding
nose.
   Seth leaned against the hood of a gleaming dark blue vehicle that did
not belong alongside the other economy cars in the complex.  It bore a
Mercedes emblem, but she'd never seen that type before.
   His boyish smile was back.  "Ready?" He looked over his hands, wiping it
free of blood.  He didn't even look as if he'd broke a sweat.
   She glanced back over to Matthew and struggled for something appropriate
to say.  She didn't care if he was okay, he would clearly live.  She wasn't
sorry.  He had repeated all too often his desire to kick someone's ass for
her.  About time he caught the receiving end of that.
   "Yes."
   Seth pushed off the hood and walked over to the passenger side to hold
the door open.
   "Whose car is this?" She asked once he got inside.
   "Mine.  I don't drive it to The Den, for obvious reasons."
   His.  The reason was more than obvious.  Zaria bit her lip as the SL63
AMG hit the open road.  The engine purred like a massive feline.
   "Seatbelt."
   Zaria scrambled to get the belt around her as the car hit ninety miles
per hour.
   The drive concluded in an upscale neighborhood.  The longer he drove,
the further apart the houses became, the greater obscured.  High trees,
sloping hills, curved driveways tucked lavish homes into their own private
sanctuaries.  Seth took a turn that led off the main road, up a hill, and
into a driveway.
   He opened the door and led her up the stairs from the parking garage and
into the house.  He left his keys in the ignition and didn't use a key on
the door.  The house was all smooth lines, hardwood, glass, soft lightning.
It looked like a page out of modern architectural home design, but lived
in, cultured, loved.  He kept all his cherished items here.
   "This is all yours?" She asked, just to be sure.
   "Yes." He gave her the tour of the house, showed her where to leave her
bag.  "The property line and the house itself has some of the strongest
wards I've ever laid.  Better than any security system." Seth took a seat
on his couch and waved her over to him.  "Tell me what he said to you."
   Her eyes were still jumping from wall to window to flooring to lighting.
It took her a moment to remember who 'he' was.  "That ...  he called you a
creature.  He said there was no way you were actually my boyfriend and that
no matter what you promised me, it wasn't worth my soul."
   Seth gave a single nod.  His jaw was tight, but otherwise, he didn't
give any indication of anger.  "I was born to a human mother and father,
but," He sighed, kicked his legs out and sank further into his couch.  "My
work has led to a few differences, and those differences lead to name
calling.  'Creature' being popular in most of the rumors." He rolled his
jaw in thought.  "As for our relationship, do I need to clarify that
again?"
   Zaria blushed.  "Of course not, and you haven't promised me anything, so
that doesn't matter either." Differences.  Creature.  That's what she
needed to be listening to.
   He took her wrist and pulled her onto him.  He kissed her before she
could ask a question.  It was hungry, aggressive, full of frustration and
desire.  "Zaria?"
   "Yes?" She curled her body around his, trying to comfort and calm him.
   "What if I wanted your soul, with or without promises?"
   She pulled back slightly.  Was he serious?  Her pounding heart seemed to
think so.  "Um, one step at a time.  You want me to trust you.  Do you
trust me?"
   "Trust you?  I love you, Zaria."
   "You love me?"
   "More and more each day."
   She flushed at his words.  "Well, that's something different, not love."
   "Don't tell me what I feel," his voice was threatening, low.  He nipped
at her cheek.
   'Give him what he wants.  Make him happy.'
   "I wasn't exactly paying my soul much mind to begin with.  You're
welcome to it."
   He kissed her again, gentler this time, calm.  The tenderness soon gave
way to lust and then to brief sparks of pain as they peeled out of their
clothes, groping, caressing, kissing, biting, moaning, grinding, scratching
on each other until he was back inside her, on top of her, his every thrust
seeming to penetrate her mind as well as her body.  She had some experience
with intensity now and did not panic when she felt like she was falling or
flying or that her heart was about to cease beating.
   "Do you really want my soul?" Zaria gasped.  "Honestly."
   "Honestly," he moaned.  "I want everything.  I am very fucking greedy."
   ***
   Zaria regained consciousness with a scream, the kind of scream you belt
out on the first down slope of a roller coaster.  As soon as she realized
she was not in a negative gravity free fall and was in fact, sitting
upright, naked, in a shrine of a bed, she stopped.
   Warm, strong, hands wrapped around her midsection and Seth kissed her on
the shoulder.  His chuckle was one of immense male pride.  He didn't seem
worried, surprised, or even shocked by her scream.
   "What's so funny?" She croaked.
   He handed her a glass of water.  "You are so lovely, so strong,
beautiful."
   "I screamed?"
   "Oh, you're fine.  I didn't push too hard."
   "Didn't?  You pushed me?  What happens when you push too hard?"
   He nipped her ear and pulled her back against his chest.  His smile was
radiant.  "I didn't, and I won't.  You're just perfect," he bent to place a
soft kiss to her lips.  "How do you feel?"
   "Like." She closed her eyes, took a moment to think back.  "When you get
off a thrill ride, how your heart is racing, head floaty, unsteady, but
good.  I feel alive," she blushed.
   Was this really the after effect of having sex with him?  Was it always
like that?  Was he drugging her?  What about the fear, the panic, the pain?
What about the black outs?  Why couldn't she remember the time between her
orgasm on the couch and being brought to this bed?  Did she walk?  Did he
carry her?  Was she screaming the whole time or only in her mind?
   She took another sip of water.  No, her voice was raw from actual
screaming.
   'Why don't you open your mouth and try getting some answers?'
   He kissed her shoulder and cupped her breast.  "Let's go to the kitchen,
make ourselves something to eat, and when you're ready to ride again," he
nuzzled the back of her neck.  "You just let me know."
   "Does it..."
   Seth waited.
   "Never mind."
   "I mind.  What do you want to ask me?"
   So many questions, sane questions, rational questions.  But no, she
didn't voice those.
   "How does it feel for you?  I mean ...  I don't know what I mean."
   He curled around her until he was lying in her lap.  He reached up to
brush her lips with his fingers.  "I lose myself in you every bit as much
as you are lost.  The lower you drop, the higher I soar.  Your
vulnerability makes me feel like a warrior, not because I hurt you, but
because I'm protecting you.  You are a drug, like being high, like having
my mind electrified.  When you need me, I thrive off providing.  When you
cry, I thrive off comforting you." With a heavy sigh he rolled out of the
bed and drug her along.  "To the kitchen with us."
   Zaria assumed they were going to the kitchen for a snack, but realized
her error when he began to pull a bowl and several ingredients from his
fridge and cabinet.
   "I should get dressed," Zaria whispered.
   "Are you cold?"
   She was actually quite comfortable, considering how open the house
seemed and that it was winter.  "No."
   "Wash your hands and let me look at you while we cook."
   She had to admit that she was rather happy to see him unclothed,
physique in full view.  Damn, he was handsome.  She looked at the red
whelps along his shoulder, marks made by her nails.  It was nothing
compared to the stinging stripes down her back, the bruises of various
shades of blue and purple.
   Seth caught her staring and blushed.
   They baked a bowl full of stuffed hors 'd 'oeuvres.  She didn't catch
what the stuffing was made from, but she knew there were three different
types.  Seth carried the bowl out the covered balcony.  Though it was early
winter, she barely felt the chill.
   He set the bowl onto a low table and they settled onto a soft, curved
reclining bench.  She eased down beside him and fed him one of the morsels.
Zaria moaned in delight as she ate the next one.
   "Wow, these are delicious.  Is there anything you aren't perfect at?"
   "Plenty."
   "Really?  Like what?"
   "I suck at gardening."
   She giggled and took another bite.
   "Honestly.  I tried.  Plants are not my specialty, animals neither."
   "What else do you suck at?"
   "Hmm," he fed her another morsel.  This one was softer on the inside,
richer.  "I'm not a very social person.  I have too many differences." That
word again.  "I, well, you saw how I deal with people who irritate me."
   Zaria recalled the blood on the sidewalk, staining Matthew's clothes. 
She remembered the redhead at the party, the fear in his eyes.  "But you
seem to have a lot of friends."
   "Perception," he kissed her on the neck.  "I have a few, but our order
is a very closed one, each of them vigorously evaluated.  That's why it's
so small, as I'm sure you've noticed.  They just want to be in my favor."
   "Which is why they don't like me." Zaria fed him this time.
   "They hate you.  Oh, yes, they do, like an echo chamber of harpies. 
They can't wrap their head around what is so special about us.  That brings
me to another thing I suck at: criticism.  Darren handles that for me,
dealing with my own students."
   "Echo chamber of harpies." She chuckled.  "Why?  Other than your obvious
physical allure and maybe even," she swept her hand through the room,
"financially, but why all the fuss?"
   Seth laughed.  His eyes smoldered with love as he looked at her, putting
a flutter in her belly.  "Looks, money, power.  Yeah, why would any
predatory bitch bother?"
   She giggled as she nibbled off the end of one of the treats.  The inside
filling was a thick, dark cherry glaze, but savory tasting.  She squeezed
the filling over her lips, let it slide down her chin.  She made a mock
snarl at him.  "I'll rip them open if they touch you."
   Seth held her by the shoulders and licked the glaze from her chin,
slowly licked her mouth and lips, eating it from her.  He pulled at her
bottom lip with his teeth, nibbled her chin, growled low in his throat. 
She felt like she was under the tongue of a predator, in danger of being
devoured at any moment.  He finished cleaning her with a kiss.  His grip on
her shoulders softened and snaked around her in an embrace.
   A single tear slid down her cheek.  Was she sure she was safe with him?
From one moment to the next she didn't know where she stood, if he was
sane, if she had the sanity to know.
   She reached back for another morsel, nibbled it open, but this time, she
painted him red, licked him clean.  She giggled as they kissed, the savory
filling passing between them.
   He lifted her and arousal cooled on her inner thighs.  He eased his way
inside and she rode him, set a steady pace, thinking back to their first
morning together.  He had that look in his eyes again.  With a single
glance he made her feel like a princess, a queen, a goddess.  Loved.  He
loved looking up at her.
   Everything, Zaria thought as she arched her back, stared up at the
ceiling.  This was insane, but she truly felt it.  She would give him
anything he wanting.  What did she have to lose anyway?
   'How about your life?'
   Zaria moaned as he latched onto her nipple, his hand played with one,
his teeth teased the other.  She cradled his head and grinned with her
sudden caprice, a bit reckless given her current situation.
   "Come inside me, Seth.  Show your baby girl how much you love her."
   He opened his eyes and the look in those eyes was not natural, but
foreign, a creature.  Differences.  With both hands firmly on her hips, he
began to thrust, to pump deep inside her until at last he gave her what she
asked for.  He reclined in the chair with a satiated sigh, his chest rose
and fell like that of a great beast, well fed and properly satisfied, for
the moment.
   She leaned down onto him, her head on his chest, her body stretched out
beside him.  Confusion brought more tears, and she bit her lip when she
felt one slide between her cheek and his chest.
   "Don't do that, baby girl," his voice rumbled in her ear.  "There's no
reason for that.  Whatever you saw, whatever you felt, that's yours, your
warrior, your champion, and sometimes, even your puppy."
   She chuckled despite herself.  She squeezed him to her and willed her
way to calm.  Mine.  When she reopened her eyes it was early twilight.  She
could hear Seth breathing, each one slow and deep.  She opened her eyes
wider and looked around.  Something was in the house.
   He opened his eyes and frowned at her in question.
   She couldn't frame her question.  She was apprehensive, but didn't
really know why.  This time it didn't feel like his fault.  She hadn't seen
anything, hadn't heard anything, but she felt like she should, like she was
about to.  She tightened her grip on his arm and he woke completely.
   "Hey, look at me.  You feel something near by?"
   Zaria nodded.
   He smiled and seemed amused by her answer.  "It won't bother you." He
pulled her down onto him and kissed the top of her head.  "It's one of my
patrols, a type of roving ward.  It's there to protect us."
   His assurance was the only thing that calmed her.  His explanation
amazed her.  She'd never heard of such a thing before.  Why was she able to
sense it?
   ***
   She woke the next time with a moan.  Zaria slipped from an erotic dream
into a decadent reality.  Seth's hands were at her thighs and his tongue
alternated between playing with her clitoris and dipping inside her.  This
was not one of the things he sucked at.  Zaria whined and moaned as her
body came alive.  Her hips rolled with each lick.  Her thighs quaked as he
made lazy figures, back and forth, sideways, quick jabs, and...
   Her orgasm hit like a bolt of lighting.  She screamed, let it rip,
comfortable that no one could hear her.  She groaned and panted while he
kissed the inside of her twitching thighs, his hands caressed her hips,
fondled her breasts.  Once she calmed, he went right back to licking her
again, this time adding his fingers inside her.  Two fingers, slowly easing
in and out of her slick canal, in no hurry.
   She parted her legs further, her hips tilted, wantonly begging for more.
He pressed his fingers upward, pressing on her upper wall in short jabs,
then just rubbed it, driving her up the wall.  Zaria whined in protest.
   "Please, Seth, please.  I can't take this."
   "I beg to differ.  Watch.  Watch me master your body."
   She had no choice in the matter but to become slowly wrung out and limp
as a frayed twig.  One orgasm after another, giving her little rest
between. When he finally pulled a seventh, near painful, orgasm from her,
she lay there unmoving, her eyes staring out the glass wall into the night.
Moonlight shone in, casting a soft blue glow on them and the newly fallen
snow outside.
   "Such a beautiful sight.  My baby girl, come here." He wrapped his arms
around her and helped her stand.  He walked her to the bathroom where he
began to fill the luxurious garden tub with water.
   He added different liquids to the bathwater, just a few drops of each,
by some pattern known only to him.  She felt drugged, her thoughts
non-existent.  Only she existed, in this moment, hanging by a thread that
he held.  She didn't speak, didn't think her mouth would work if she wanted
it to.  She just zoned out as he helped her into the bath, while his hands
massaged her body from neck to foot.
   "I have something I need to ask you." Words, from her lips.  Ha, so she
could speak after all.
   He pulled her to lie back against his chest.  He reached up and began to
trace circles around her nipples.  "Ask."
   "Did I do something wrong earlier, upset you?"
   "Quite the opposite." He leaned down and whispered conspiratorially,
"Can I confess something to you?"
   "Anything."
   He grinned.  "You looked like you'd torn them apart with your teeth and
that made me." His dick stiffened at her back.  "So fucking hard.  I needed
to clean you up before I lost control of myself.  I've used you pretty
hard."
   'Don't stop now,' her eyes fluttered closed.
   "You liked the thought of me dripping with the blood of ...  well, they
aren't your enemies."
   "It doesn't matter whose blood it is.  As long as it isn't mine or
yours."
   "Are you sure about that?" Zaria snapped her eyes open.  Fuck.  Did she
say that out loud?  What in the world was she thinking, baiting him? 
Couldn't she hear that hesitation in his voice?  Was she paying attention?
   Seth didn't answer her immediately.  When he did, it was with a heavy
sigh, "Yes, Zaria, I'm sure."
   "But..."
   'Zaria.  Zaria!'
   Ignoring the wisdom of her internal voice, she angled her head back to
look at him.  "Think about it.  What if it were mine or yours?  Are you
sure it wouldn't have the same effect?"
   He was quiet, staring at her with those alluring eyes, brooding and
pensive.  None of the earlier darkness was there.
   "Like, if you put your blood on me."
   He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.  He was hard as a rock in
the water now.  When he pulled back, she decided to take the hint.
   "Sorry.  I know you've been working hard not to scare me off." Like a
testament to her inner volatility of her emotions, she teared up.
   'Not to scare you?  Where have you been?  He's been terrifying you at
every given opportunity.  Just drop it.  Forget it.'
   I love him.
   'Shut up with that!'
   He needs me and he knows me.
   'You don't know him at all and he knows nothing about you.'
   The volley of orgasms had made her insane.  She splashed her face with
the warm, scented water.
   "What kind of differences do you have?"
   "My moral compass has shifted beyond the scope of current social mores.
I can see and hear things that others can't." His answer was guarded.
   She'd done it again, tripped off that darker part of him.  Had he seen
the confusion on her face?
   "I love you, you know." Zaria stopped breathing.  Trust!  She was
supposed to say she trusted him.
   "I didn't.  Thank you for informing me."
   "What did you put in this water?  It's making me crazy." She sat up as
if to get out, but he held her in place.
   "The water will help you recover." He was silent a long while before he
said, "You can take it back if you didn't mean it."
   She took one of his hands and placed it on her mound, the other, she put
around her throat.
   'Stop this, Zaria.  Take the out!'
   Shut up.
   "I give myself to you willingly.  I am yours, not because you plan on
taking me anyway, because I want you to be mine as well.  I love you,
Seth."
   "You should stop while you're ahead."
   "I know," she whispered.  "I can't help feeling this way.  I can't help
but tell you.  I don't want to stop."
   She slapped her hand in the water, and he tightened the hand around her
throat.  Zaria wheezed, but her body relax against his.
   'The damaged little slut likes it,' Matthew's voice taunted.
   "I love you," Zaria gasped.  "I won't take it back.  I get that," his
grip on her throat eased and she took a breath.  "I know you're weird, but
just let me be yours, completely, please?  You don't have to hold back. 
Don't be done with me yet."
   He dropped his hand from her throat and sat up.  "Done with you?" She
liked the way he sounded.  He asked as if it were the dead last thing on
his mind.
   She turned in the water and straddled him.  "Don't let anything ...  any
person come between us." She settled down onto him.  If she was going to
survive this insane relationship then she had to fight crazy with crazy.
   His nails dug into her shoulder, scratched down her back.  She winced as
his palms rose along her back, putting new fire in the whelps he'd made. 
Oh yes, she'd asked for it all right, and yes, she liked it.  It didn't
matter if he was dangerous or volatile.  She had nothing to fear with him.
   "All right then." He pulled the plug in the tub and helped her out.
   They dried off and Zaria watched him with a bit of trepidation.  All
right?
   Once he was dry he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, tossed
her onto the bed and covered her before she had the chance to move.  Not
that she could sense it, something about his demeanor had changed.
   His nails, sharp as knives, played along her chest, effortlessly
creating fat whelps, some of them sprouting pin pricks of blood.  She
looked at him, illuminated by the moon light and the soft ambient light
from the lamp in the corner of the room.  Something about him had changed,
not only his nails, but she could sense it, a faint glimmer, like one of
those wards, fully present, revealed, on top of her.
   'Don't let anything come between us.  Silly girl.'
   Seth's eyes met hers in challenge.
   Zaria stretched her arms above her head and intertwined her fingers. 
She turned her head to the side, baring her neck, and closed her eyes. 
This was her response.  Her body shivered in nervous protest, wanting every
bit as much as her rational mind to run screaming, to fight, to push him
away from her.  She held her position.  Nothing would stop her from having
him.
   "Stick out your tongue, Zaria." His voice had changed, thickened.  It
had a dual quality to it and matched her ideas about what the voice of a
demonic creature would sound like.
   She pushed her tongue out as far as it would go and his nail made a line
down the center.
   "Don't swallow." He rolled her on top of him.
   She opened her eyes and straddled him, the creature, all the differences
laid bare.  Whatever the effects of his practice, she was in full congress
with it.  What was she supposed to do?
   She would prove herself.
   When the blood filled her mouth she let it flow over her bottom lips,
drip down her chin, drop onto her breasts, flow down her stomach.
   'Please, stop, Zaria.  You're going too far.  Don't do it.'
   She backed up and let more of the blood flow onto his erection, she
leaned down and stuck her bleeding tongue out, the protest of her muscle
brought tears to her eyes, but she speared her tongue and watched as bloody
saliva covered the head of his cock.  The low growling rumble in response
was the most primal expression of satisfaction she'd ever heard.  She rose
and put him inside her.  She leaned onto him and spread her blood on his
lips.
   He appeared dazed, high, pupils dilated, and eyes glazed as she rode
him, his body rolled, thrusted up into her.  She angled her head back and
let the blood flow down her neck, she rubbed it into breasts, mixing with
her fresh sheen of sweat as she rode him freely.
   'I am not afraid.  He's mine to claim.  I'm not afraid.  He won't hurt
me.  I am not afraid.'
   Say it enough and it will come true, right?
   He pulled her down and kissed her deep, his tongue plunging into her
mouth, making the cut on her tongue throb.  When he broke the kiss she felt
light-headed, but her tongue wasn't hurting anymore.  Maybe she'd moved
beyond the pain?  Maybe she lost too much blood for it to matter?
   He rolled them over, his body pressed into hers, he pounded her, his
hand lifted her hips to meet his violent thrusts.
   Between her whining pants, she spouted a fresh fount of insanity. 
"There's nothing between us.  I love you.  I need you.  Please, take me as
yours.  Yes, Seth, yes!" She was screaming again, her words incoherent as
her thoughts.  She heard his roar as he came inside her.  She felt as if
the house itself was trembling, like an earthquake moved the both of them.
   Zaria closed her eyes as he stretched out over her.  The only thing she
feared this time was how utterly safe and satisfied she felt.
   ***
   She woke under heavy blankets, deliciously comfortable, well rested. 
She moaned as she stretched her pleasantly sore muscles and turned in the
bed, feeling the cool sheets beyond.  She pulled the covers back and sat
up.
   Elsewhere in the house, Seth spoke in a conversational tone.  She
slipped out the bed and pulled on the silk robe that lay across the chair.
It smelled like him.  Zaria closed her eyes a moment in memory.
   He was sitting on the couch, phone to his ear, pouring over an open book
on the coffee table.  "...there was this clarity.  That's when I figured it
out.  No shit.  Yeah.  I'm looking at it now.  One second."
   Zaria eased over to him and went to her knees.  She reached out for the
drawstring of his shorts and pulled.  Seth picked up the book and sat back,
pushed his hips to the edge of the couch.
   "I have most of this already, but I'll need more lanolin." He sighed and
arched his hips to meet her mouth.  "Same place, and at least twenty
milliliters of the ankera oil.  You know the kind you got last time? 
Don't. Unrefined only." Seth set the book aside and made a fist in her
hair, not to pull her away, but to press her head down.  "I ...  I haven't
decided on that yet.  Yes.  Mm hmm.  Yeah.  You have a point.  What did he
offer?" Seth's chuckle was cut short by a muffled moan.  "Try two hundred.
Call me back when you have everything.  Exactly what it sounds like.  You
know the answer to that.  Good bye." Seth turned off his cell and tossed it
aside.  "Fuck, woman, your mouth is divine.  You want to swallow my cum,
baby girl?"
   She hummed positively around his cock and felt him twitch and swell.
   "Relax," he whispered as he thrust to the back of her throat.  "Just. 
Relax.  Fuck, I'm about to give it to you." The rest of his praise was
swallowed by his groan as he filled her mouth with his semen.
   Zaria swallowed and gasped for air.  She lay her head in his lap and
wiped her eyes.  Pleasing him was its own aphrodisiac.  She pointed to the
leather bound bound book.  The page he had open was covered in sketches,
symbols, a few numbers and fewer words.  It looked like a book, but the
pages seemed like sketches in a foreign journal.
   "Notes," he answered as he combed his fingers through her hair.  "I
didn't inherit all this, in case you wonder.  Some of it, yes, but I've
built on that foundation.  I'm good at what I do, and I don't do it for
free, not even for a reasonable price."
   "Because of the risk?"
   Seth chuckled as his hands roamed possessively over her.  "Risk," he
muttered.
   "You like how you've changed?" She squealed as he pulled her over his
thigh.  He lifted the end of the robe and laid two stinging smacks on each
of her cheeks.  He then massaged the burn, his touch warmed and then the
pain dissipated.  Her memory of the night before return, the blood, the
biting, the feral growls, the burnt orange glaze in his iris.
   She shuddered as his fingers dipped between her wet lips as the sound of
her arousal filled the room.  She rubbed her tongue against the roof of her
mouth.  She didn't feel cut she knew had been there the night before.
   "The benefits," Seth purred over her own wanton moans, "far outweigh any
misconstrued perception of risk." He pulled her up into his lap, cradled
her and spread her thighs, his fingers went back inside her and his
ministrations continued.
   "What ...  what is ...  are the risks?" She stared at him, using his
eyes to keep her present, anchored.  She was going to come soon.  She
wasn't sure if he was trying to distract her or repay the favor.
   "You're never going to leave me, baby girl.  Never," he swore.  "I want
you to understand that."
   Zaria could only moan as his fingers continued their onslaught.  She was
sure 'crazy as a strung out March hare' was one of those risks, and yet the
warm pulse between her legs told her what her body thought on the matter.
"Stop threatening me, Seth."
   "I don't mean it that way, baby girl." He kissed her cheek.  "But if I
keep answering your questions."
   "I know my," Zaria's eyes rolled for a moment, but she refocused,
"memory of last night is a little disjointed, but I think I made myself
clear.  I meant it.  Stop trying to push me away.  I want to be yours."
   He put a third finger inside her and Zaria groaned, her pussy clenched
around him.  He put his lips to her ear and whispered.  "I can't sleep in
any place that hasn't been warded by me.  My vision has been permanently
altered.  I see more than I used to, and without much, if any, effort.  The
psychological effects, well, to be honest, love," he took her earlobe
between his teeth and pulled, "I'm not sure that changed much."
   "Have you been in love before?"
   "Never," his moan was in harmony with hers, "but that didn't keep me
from being less possessive."
   "What happened?"
   "Are you asking about my last girlfriend, seriously?  Right now?"
   "Seriously.  Right now.  Or we can go back to questions about ... 
things I can't understand."
   "I don't want to hear a word until you scream my name."
   Zaria shook her head.  "I'm going to scream anyway.  I don't want to
shut up.  I want to know you." She cradled his head to her as she kissed
him.  "I also don't want you to stop."
   "Greedy little girl." His panting was nearly as labored as her own. 
"She got tired, scared, began lying to me, then cheating."
   "And then..."
   "Use your imagination.  I did." His dark laughter pointed Zaria's
imagination in the right direction.
   "Would honesty have worked?"
   "What do you mean?"
   "If she said, 'Seth, I'm afraid of you; I can't take this.' What would
you have done?"
   "She was just a fucking gash.  I didn't care that much about her, Zaria.
She never saw my house.  I never told her anything that would have made me
think that she could hurt me." He made a noncommittal sound of disgust.  "I
hurt her because she was nothing, but that's what the bitch deserved."
   "Seth," Zaria moaned, whined, then rolled her hips against his hand.
   He pulled his fingers out, but he continued to play, just outside, up
and down along her wet silt, teasing her clitoris and her opening.
   Never his home, never told her the truth about himself, didn't love her.
Whoever the girl was, she had an out, one no longer available to her.  She
couldn't hurt him.  Could she?  "Fuck me, Seth."
   He looked down at her with that darkness, that malicious leer.  "Are you
trying to distract me?"
   "I am trying to seduce you." She felt so light-headed, drunk.  "You've
got me all wound up and I need you to fuck me.  I need you, Seth." She
whimpered the plea.  "You know," she mumbled around the kiss she gave him,
"what your baby girl needs.  Please.  I'm greedy, too."
   He stood and pulled Zaria up with him, tossing her about.  He had her on
her feet and bending over the couch.  He pulled the robe off, tossed it to
the floor.  He kicked her legs apart and finally he was inside her.  Fuck
yes, it was exactly what she wanted.  Hard, furious, violent, his hand
landing stinging blows to her ass, his nails making new tracks down her
back, his grip unyielding, unambiguous.
   She screamed his name as she came, felt the fluid as it wet her thighs,
wet his.  The sloshing sound filled the room and he didn't stop, didn't
slow, he was close on her heels and groaned and came inside her.
   They sank to the floor and he held her.  Well, Zaria sank and he
followed.  She hoped the creeping white in her vision wouldn't take her
down.  She didn't want to pass out, not again.  Just breathe.  Their hearts
were beating too fast for words, their shared gasps for breaths were the
only sound between them.
   "I want to make you happy," he whispered.
   "I'm happy.  Level five thrills on the roller coaster happy.  Can you
make me less susceptible to passing out?"
   "You're already building a resistance.  Like I said, you're strong."
   "You keep saying that.  What do you mean?"
   "Another risk, I guess.  I carry a lot of energy.  That's the best way I
can describe it." He stood and helped her to her feet.
   She followed his lead to the kitchen.
   He poured her a glass of water and one for himself.  "I cover you with
it, fill you with it," he moaned as his eyes devoured her.  He set his
water aside and began to caress her hand, brush his fingers along hers. 
"It could have hurt you.  That's why you panicked the first few times.  You
knew were in danger.  That same kind of ...  press of energy can kill a
person."
   "How could you be sure you weren't going to hurt me?"
   "I was careful.  All that time I spent at your feet?" He hinted.  "I was
preparing you." He huffed and pressed her hand to his cheek.  "I loved you
the moment I saw you.  I needed you.  I pushed just a fraction of my
energy, the slightest bit." He smiled as if lost in the memory.  "You
reached for me, Zaria.  You touched me.  I wanted to grab you by your
ankles and fuck you right there at The Den.  I saw you had talent the
moment I caught sight of your sketches.  I proved it to them at Trevor's. I
would have been," his eye lids were heavy as he moaned, "more than pleased
with just fucking you, but when your energy answered mine, I became
obsessed with having more from you, everything from you."
   "And you have it," Zaria cheerfully added, trying to loosen some of the
tightening of her heart.
   "I still want more," he mumbled.
   "Love isn't enough?"
   Seth chuckled and led her back to the living room.  "Damn, baby girl,
you're messy." He returned to the kitchen for a towel.
   "Sorry."
   He smacked her already sore ass.  "That was a compliment, Zaria.  I love
it." He mopped the couch and table free of her fluids and waved her over.
"Come here." He wrapped his arms around her.  "I'm going to show you one of
my sentient wards.  Karnythia.  Stand before me."
   Zaria looked around.
   "You can't see her yet." He kissed her on the cheek.  "Watch the area
above my hand." He held his palm out and the space above turned misty and
distorted as if there were some sort of gas rising from his palm.  "This is
currently my best effort at a clear seeing portal." His voice sounded
strained, as if he were holding up a forty pound ball.  "Place your fingers
to my wrist and..."
   Her fingers slid from his forearm to his wrist as if being drawn to a
magnet.  Something pulling her fingers along until they found the right
place.  Energy eased down her arm, inside her body, and passed onto him. 
She tried to boost the sensation, make the flow stronger, feed the object
in his hand.  The mist grew in size, thinned out, and then there was the
shimmering distortion like wet glass.  Beyond the glass stood a stick-thin,
black shadowy silhouette of a feminine figure, its hair and clothing lifted
by an unfelt breeze.  Zaria squeezed his wrist and pushed her body back
against his.
   "You see her?" He whispered.
   "That's ...  she guards you?"
   Seth's voice was deep, thick.  She'd heard the voice once before, last
night, when she was bleeding onto him.  The language he spoke was unlike
any she'd ever heard, and the dark figure beyond the portal waved and
bowed.
   "Thank you for your indulgence, Karnythia." He fisted his hand and the
portal collapsed.  Seth coughed several times, deep and powerful.
   She was still squeezing his wrist, still staring at the space.  It
looked normal now, but something had been there.  Seth placed his free hand
to her eyes.  He was panting heavier than he had been after fucking her, as
if he'd just run a marathon.  The darkness helped her think.  She forced
her hand to release his, but then her fingers trembled and stomach rolled.
   "In through your nose and out through your mouth," he instructed between
his own labored breaths.
   She whimpered, but complied.  It would feel better if she ran to the
nearest bathroom, but the nausea faded as if it had never been there.  "I
have your energy in reserve?"
   "Not quite.  You have your own energy." He lowered his hand from her
eyes.  "Don't try to see."
   Zaria nodded and turned to bury her face in his chest.
   "I'm tuning you to my frequency.  That's the closet explanation."
   "I have never heard of anything like that."
   "Yeah, so ...  what we just did, everything we do, no one will ever hear
about it.  Understood?"
   "Why?"
   "Same reason I don't walk into The Den wearing $700 shoes." He snapped.
   "Do you have $700 shoes?" She countered.
   "I do, actually."
   Zaria wriggled from his hold and sat opposite him on the couch.  "Help
me understand, Seth."
   He sighed and palmed the sweat from his forehead.  His eyes came to rest
at her beasts.
   "They don't know the extent of my capabilities.  No one does.  Spread
your legs."
   She let one leg fall off the side of the couch and propped the other
against the back of the couch.  His appetite for her was astounding.
   "Touch yourself."
   "Where?"
   "Your breasts.  Play with them."
   Zaria hefted her breasts and pulled her nipples, rolling them in her
hands.  They were sensitive this morning.  She could still feel where his
teeth had pulled on them.
   "I know you enjoy drawing, so I'll get some new materials for you.  I'll
pay you for any design you make for me."
   "You don't have any other artists in your cadre?" She slid lower on the
couch and pushed her legs further apart.
   "Sure." He didn't elaborate as he watched her.
   "Are you keeping me here, Seth?"
   "I'm making sure 'here' is comfortable for you." He fell silent again
and the only sound was that of her fragile moans.  "What are you thinking
of?"
   "The sound you make when you lose yourself inside me."
   "What do I sound like?"
   She closed her eyes and whimpered at the thought of his wounded sigh,
his low groans of satisfaction, his haunting whisper in her ear.  Seeing
that look of unashamed lust in his eyes ramped up her physical response.
   "You sound intoxicating, satisfied and wanting at the same time." She
felt her pussy clench and dampen, hungry again for his attention.  She felt
his lips on hers and smiled.  His fingers parted her folds and pinched her
clitoris, vaulting her higher.
   "Don't stop," she breathlessly pled, "please." Would she ever grow tired
of him?  His fingers worked her to yet another orgasm.  Her legs
straightened and her toes curled as she came apart under him.
   The cellphone on the side table buzzed.  Seth pulled away and looked at
the screen with a heavy sigh.  "There's some food for you in the fridge,
container with the red top.  Are you okay with staying here while I'm gone
or do you want me to take you to that apartment?"
   Zaria blinked out of her daze.  She heard that note of reluctance.  He
didn't want her anywhere but here.  "I'll freak out here by myself, and I
don't want you to leave me at my apartment."
   Seth rubbed his nose to hers.  "Darren will be here in twenty.  Get
dressed and eat."
   She rolled off the couch and hurried to the bathroom.
   "Dress warm," he yelled after her.
   ***
   Zaria cradled the container of cut fruit and bite-sized sweet bread
against her belly as she followed Seth downstairs to meet Darren.
   She got into the back seat of the sedan while Seth sat in the passenger
seat.  Darren glanced at her, clearly surprised by her presence.  She kept
her eyes on her food which was easy enough, seeing as how delicious it all
was.
   The scenery went from the luxury of Seth's neighborhood to
claustrophobic low rises of the inner city.  Darren pulled up to one of the
houses, nearly identical to the others save for the foil over the windows
and the calico cat resting on the top step.
   Seth shouldered a bag and turned to open the door for Zaria.  She set
the empty food container aside and fell in step behind the two men.  They
entered the small house single file.
   It was much cleaner inside than she expected.  An older man sat to a
small table with an assortment of items laid out on a cloth in front of
him. He looked haggard, as if he'd been up for days or drinking or both.
   Zaria sat with Darren in the living room while Seth walked toward the
rear of the house with the man.  Did Darren hate her as well?  She stared
at the floor and thought it over.  It felt weird, saying nothing.  She and
Darren had spoken far more at The Den.  He didn't seem like Seth's handler
at the time, just one of the two of his friends that always showed up with
him.
   Perceptions.
   "A job like this won't take long," he assured, "but it may," A piercing
scream cut him off.  "not be the most be the most pleasant sounding."
   A woman's wails continued following by a series of growls and groans. 
Zaria imagined there was a wild animal trapped back there with the voice of
a woman.  Then the crying began, interspersed by a long mourning wail.
   "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
   "What do you mean?"
   "I saw you eating lunch out of his fridge.  He has weird tastes, so if
there's something you prefer or want me to add, just say the word."
   "What makes you think I'll be around that long?"
   "True, planes fly out of the sky every day, but in the meanwhile, girl's
gotta have her comfort food."
   Zaria bit down on her lip.  At least his humor was firmly in place.  The
woman's cries subsided.  She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign.
   "You know what I meant," she kept her voice low.
   "You were in his house.  You might as well know that's as major as being
his wife.  If you were just a fling, he would have brought you to my house,
where he pretends to live."
   "Why do you do everything for him?"
   Darren chuckled.  "You haven't seen my house.  Plus, Seth has been my
friend since I was a boy."
   A door opened and Seth entered the living room.  The man looked happy
now, tears covered his face.  Seth turned toward him and issued what seemed
to be instructions.  The man nodded constantly, saying hushed words back to
him.  With a nod of Seth's head, they left the house.
   Seth crawled into the backseat with her and immediately stretched across
the seats and lay his head in her lap.  They, his group, had discussed
something like this one night at The Den and she knew what was coming. 
Workings could have a backlash to them.  It felt like an ache in the body.
When his began, he brought her hand to his temple.  She held him and
massaged the point, hoping her efforts brought him some relief.
   Seth rolled over so that he was facing her stomach, he clawed at her
jacket and she unzipped it, pulled it off.  He lifted her shirt and pressed
his forehead to her belly.  He angled his head back and she jerked when she
felt his teeth.  She didn't have to tell him it tickled.  That wasn't his
intention.  Zaria rolled her head back and breathed once he was able to
bite down.  It hurt.  Not in the good way, not even for a moment.
   Worse, she was scared to tell him to stop, to ask him to stop.
   Zaria pulled her head forward and looked down at him, let her tears fall
from her face to his.
   Those eyes, that wolfish gleam, that dark promise.  He looked at her as
if to say: so what?  But he didn't bite down again.  His tongue played over
the marks he'd made.  He brought his hand to her cheek and thumbed her
tears away.  After a few kisses he buried his face in her belly, pulled her
jacket over his head, and appeared to sleep.
   'How am I going to survive him?' She combed her fingers through his
hair.
   ***
   Zaria curled up on her couch and stared out over her living room.  She
was back in her apartment.  She'd spent the day paying bills, returning
phone calls.  Now it had all come to a close.  She lay there with her
thoughts and questions as to her actions up to this point.
   Seth was dangerous.  Though her gut tightened with trepidation, her
loins warmed with anticipation.  She missed him even as feared her safety
in his presence.
   Zaria answered her buzzing phone.  "Hello?"
   "Girl!  Where have you been?" Karen asked.
   "Sorry, I forgot my phone at the house.  What's up?"
   "Did you check any of the messages I left?"
   Zaria pulled her phone away from her ear and checked.  "I don't have any
messages."
   "Ugh.  Matthew's been in the hospital."
   "What for?"
   "Internal bleeding.  Injuries sound like he was hit by a wrecking ball."
   "Oh."
   "Oh?!  What the hell, Zee?"
   "He was in a fight.  That's what he gets for being an ass.  Why should I
care?"
   "Was he right?  You hooked up with Seth?  Is that who did that to him?"
   "Yes, to all of it."
   "Wow.  Seth?"
   "Yeah.  Why do you sound so surprised?  He's the same guy you saw
sitting at my feet."
   "Oh my fuck!  That was Seth?!" She screamed the words into the phone.
   "I thought you knew about them?"
   "I told you I never got initiated.  There's no way.  Get the fuck out.
I've never seen him.  I never knew what he looked like.  He's their leader?
How in the holy fuck?  Have you been initiated?  What's he like?  What are
you learning?"
   "Could you calm down for a second?"
   "Okay, okay.  Spill." She squealed on the other end.
   "I'm his girlfriend.  I'm not in the group.  There's nothing to spill.
Normal guy."
   Karen paused.  "That's your story?"
   "I need to go.  I've got somewhere to be."
   "There's no such thing as being his girlfriend.  Seth is with Lydia,
anything else is a fuck buddy.  You're either in the group or you're their
chew toy.  Membership isn't a secret, Zee.  Spill!"
   "Neither."
   Karen scoffed.  "Girl.  Come on.  Wake up.  Don't let him use you like
this.  It would be worse than Matthew has ever treated you."
   "You don't know what you're talking about.  I need to go."
   "You won't make it to the hospital when he's done with you.  Not Seth.
You need the protection of the group."
   Zaria threw her phone against the wall.  How dare she?
   'Two people warning you, both who say they care for you.'
   "Shut up!" She snapped at the thought.  She wondered why, if she were so
talented, didn't she get the chance to be in the group.  Lydia?  Wasn't
that the name those other women mentioned.  Was that his old girlfriend? 
Did he lie about her?
   But the others?
   Zaria gave an exasperated groan as she finished getting her house in
order.  She'd been inside his home.  He loved her.  He didn't care about
the group, only her.
   'You're afraid of him to your very core.'
   "Zaria?" Darren's knocked on her door.
   "Hey."
   "Ready?"
   "I'm not going to go.  This isn't an event for me."
   Darren shook his head.  "Come on, Zaria."
   Zaria walked out and followed Darren to the car.  She felt insane, her
mind pulling in two different conclusions.  Death and lust.  Fear and love.
Suspicion and trust.
   She crawled into the back seat and stretched out.
   "Don't you carry a purse?" Darren asked, looking back to her.
   "Yeah."
   He left the car running and she watched him climb the stairs back up to
her apartment.  He returned and placed her purse in the crook of her arm
before driving off.  She was sleep by the time they arrived at Trevor's
house.  She heard the door open and heard the voices of other people. 
Their chew toy.  She kept her eyes closed, hoping Darren would see her
sleeping and leave her be.
   She woke at the feel of a body next to hers, sitting by her legs.  A
hand caressed her cheek and she leaned into it, kissing the palm.  "Close
the door," Seth instructed.
   They were closed off in the van together.
   She waited, but he didn't say anything, gave no instruction, simply
continued with his caress.
   "Do you love me?" She cried.
   He leaned over and kissed her cheek.  "Since the moment I laid eyes on
you, Zaria." He sighed heavily.  "Who made you doubt that?"
   "Why am I not a member of the group?"
   "Answer me."
   His tone shocked her out of her spiral of pity.  She blinked her eyes
open and looked at him.  Even with the faint cast of street lights, she
could see the anger in his face.  "Karen told me anyone not in your group
is," a chew toy, "being used by them."
   "You belong to me.  Fuck them!"
   His chew toy.  She lay still, unsure what to do or say next.  Her eyes
closed and she listened to him breathe, listened as it calmed, concentrated
on the warmth of his body over hers, thought back to feeling him inside
her, his passion, his love.
   "Karen." He whispered.  "She's your friend, the sculptor?"
   "Yes."
   "I didn't let her in the first time because she runs her mouth too much,
but she sent you to me.  She doesn't know what she's talking about, Zaria.
You're the authority, not her.  If there's a next time, I'll show her what
it's really like to get used."
   She blinked her eyes open and wiped her tears away.  "What's it like?"
She asked.  She stared out the window at the people driving up, pulling
stuff from their cars, socializing at they approached the house.
   "All the fear and none of the fun," he angled her face to him.  His hand
firmly grasped her jaw.  "Don't let any thing or any one come between us.
Remember?"
   I love him.  "I don't feel sane anymore."
   He pushed her skirt up to her waist and unzipped his pants. 
"Concentrate on what's important.  Me.  Not anyone else.  Devote yourself
to me.  Don't listen to anyone but me.  Very fucking simple." Seth cradled
her against him and swallowed her with his kiss as he pushed himself inside
her.  "Relax.  You're with me now.  I'm the only person that matters."
   Zaria whimpered as he penetrated her body.
   "My baby girl," he moaned as he began to thrust harder.  "Mine.  Mine
alone." He groaned.  "I possess you.  Do you hear me?"
   "Yes, Seth." She moaned.
   "Then say it."
   "You possess me.  No one matters but you."
   "That's my good girl." Moments passed with just him moving in and out of
her, her body rocking against his.  She saw or heard nothing beyond his
face and the sound of his breath.  "Own me back, Zaria.  Posses me back."
   Zaria gave a fleeting smirk at the notion.
   "I love you so much," he whispered as he came inside her.
   ***
   The festival looked exactly like what she imagined.  There were tables
set up with people selling their crafts and a schedule posted of talks that
others were going to give, rituals to participate in.
   Zaria milled around until she found a quiet corner.  She took a seat and
watched Seth from a distance as he browsed the tables, talked with others.
He had such a presence about him.  It was easier to see it now, that
energy, that power, that surety.
   A woman came and sat down beside her.  Wow, she was gorgeous.
   "Aren't you pretty," she cooed.
   Lesbian?  "Do we know each other?"
   "No," she extended her hand.  "My name is Lydia, and you're Zaria?"
   She nodded, accepted the woman's hand.  She didn't seem to be much older
than Zaria, but she had a more distinguished presence, affluent.
   "I've heard so much about you." She smirked.  "You've been his friend
for a while now."
   "Yes," Zaria admitted.  She glanced over to the woman again.  "Who are
you?"
   "Wow.  You have no idea who I am?"
   Zaria shook her head.
   She put her arm around Zaria's shoulders and pointed to Seth.  "I am his
future wife and the founder of this group."
   Zaria was glad to be sitting, because the floor seemed to shift beneath
her feet.  "What makes you think you're going to marry him?"
   "Other than my abilities as a sorceress, not needing his money, and the
children I can provide him with?  His word." The woman winked at her.
   "So what do you want?" Zaria asked through gritted teeth.
   "I've heard some rumors about you.  Just wanted to confirm that you were
nothing to compete with, which I have."
   "Royal bitch much?" Zaria shrugged the woman's arm off her and began to
walk away.
   Lydia was right on her heels.  "Hey now, I'm just speaking truth. 
There's various shades of nothing.  Usually Seth knows better than to bring
his whores around us.  I guess you make one hell of a cum bucket."
   Zaria spun to hit her, but Lydia caught her arm.  "Get the fuck away
from me!" Zaria bellowed, bringing the room to silence.  She hurt her own
ears with the scream.
   Lydia blinked at her, grinning.  Then she filled the silence of the room
with her laughter.
   Zaria snatched her hand away and pushed her, successfully this time.  "I
don't give a fuck who you think you are," Zaria continued, feeling her
whole body flush.  "You are nothing to me.  Touch me again and I'll hurt
you." Too far.
   Lydia smirked and looked to those gathered around her.  "This is why
non-members are not allowed.  These are the rules we all agreed to, and all
abide.  You think the rest of us don't have friends to invite?"
   "Fuck you," Zaria turned and saw Seth in the distance, but she headed
for the door.
   She heard his voice, calm, matter-of-fact, speaking to Lydia.  He was
the vision of coolness, like always.
   Zaria was just going to stand on the porch, but she kept walking past
the parked cars, down the driveway and out to the pitch dark road.
   "Fuck her!" She screeched once she was sure no one at the house would
hear her.  "Jealous bitch."
   She stuck to the road, but moved off the shoulder so that she wouldn't
end up side swiped by any swerving cars.  All of them saw her.  Who was
that cunt?  Future wife?  Never.
   "I'd kill her," She seethed.  "No one can have him." She stomped her
foot and screeched another decree, "He's mine you stuck up bitch!"
   Her feet rooted to the spot.  She slid her foot forward a bit, and it
moved, but woodenly.  She legs felt heavy, unwilling to move.  She looked
at the path she wanted to take, crossed her arms over her chest.  Long
sleeved sweater, long cotton skirt, boots.  This ensemble wasn't working
nearly as well now that she was standing still.
   She heard the footfalls approaching behind her and closed her eyes.  She
wouldn't turn and look, wouldn't reveal how much she wished it was him. 
Because it would be Darren at best, sent to fetch her.  At worse, that
bitch, sent to apologize.  He has important things to do, like instruct his
students.
   'Calm down.  It's probably true.  A real sorcerer, a rich one.  Deserves
someone as powerful.'
   She would kill her.  She didn't come this far to have him taken away.
   Seth put his arm around her waist.  Her feet found their will again and
they were moving forward, side by side.
   Zaria looked over to him.  He'd broken into a sweat, his breathing was
labored.  She wrapped her arm around his waist and put her head on his
shoulder.  Hers.  All hers.
   They kept walking along the road, setting a relaxed pace, as if they
were having a routine evening stroll.  That other woman had no hold on him,
she did.  Fuck all of them, Zaria thought, her pride swelling to twice its
size.
   "So." She whispered, seeing no end in sight for the road ahead.  The
drive back to civilization was easily thirty minutes.
   "Our ride will be along shortly," he answered.  "Do you want to stop,
are you tired?"
   "I'm fine." She focused on the sound of twigs and gravel grinding
underfoot.  "I've never been so angry before.  Never yelled like that."
When he didn't respond she stopped walking.  "I can wait for you.  I don't
need to be around them.  I'll try to kill her if we go back."
   Two sets of headlights crested the hill and began to slow at it
approached.
   Seth chuckled and turned to face the road.  Darren was driving and had
two others in the car with him.  Seth and Zaria climbed into the back and
the cars took off again.
   Zaria was confused when they didn't turn around, then ashamed.  She
couldn't see everyone in the van, but enough to know she'd seen them at The
Den before.  "What happened?"
   "I'm where I'd rather be, and they are where they'd rather be."
   "So this is my fault?"
   "Wouldn't say fault," a male in front of her answered.  He turned to
look back at them.  "Thank you."
   "Who's with Jason?" Seth asked.
   "Ian and Ashley." Neil answered.  He was sitting beside Myra.  "We
called the others to meet us."
   Seth nodded.  "Lydia and I had an agreement, if I didn't find anyone
suitable, I'd give her two children, do the marriage thing.  Port of last
resort." Seth shook his head.  "Absolutely last resort.  You didn't buy her
bullshit for a second."
   "Not one."
   "Good girl," he whispered.
   Zaria leaned onto his shoulder and curled against him.  Where he wanted
to be.  She smiled at the thought.  Her eyes opened when the car came to a
final stop.  Car doors opened and they were filing out again.  "Where are
we?"
   "Where I pretend to live," he whispered to her.
   Darren's house: wooden, open, warm, two stories.  They entered a large
living room with several sitting areas.  It looked a like made for
entertaining.
   "Since I was planning to be at Trevor's all weekend, I need a few hours
to get everything stocked." Darren explained.  "I have Emma doing some
shopping for me.  The others are only a few minutes out." He leaned over
and whispered something for only Seth.
   Seth whispered his answer and turned to Zaria.  "Follow me."
   She walked up the stairs with him and into a dark bedroom.  He didn't
turn on the lights, but closed the door.  She pressed herself to him the
moment the door was shut and began to unbuckle his belt, unbuttoned and
unzipped him, reached in and pulled him out.  He wasn't hard yet, but she
would work on that.  Zaria went to her knees and put the whole of him in
her mouth, sucked him deep and backed off as he quickly stiffened.
   "Fuck," he groaned.  "Oh, fuck."
   She licked and sucked on him like she was being graded, like she needed
to prove she was the best.  She alternated bobbing her head, taking him as
deep as she could with licking him softly.  Her hands kneaded his hips and
thighs as if she were starving and only his cum would save her.  She moaned
as she felt him throbbing.  She wanted to be worth him.
   He came with a soft moan, muttering as she drank him down.  Zaria
blinked her tears away in the dark, wondering what had come over her.  He
was still in her mouth.  She held him there, barely moving, only
swallowing, feeling him tremble at the least bit of movement.  Then she
slowly pulled her mouth away and stood, finding the washroom and palmed
water to her face.  When she returned to the room, he was dressed and
waiting by the open door.
   "Is that what you brought me up here for?" Zaria asked teasingly.
   "I wanted to make sure you were okay.  I am.  Now," He closed the door
behind them.  "If you feel uncomfortable at all, or just want some time to
yourself, that is my room.  You can come and go out of it as if it were
your own."
   Zaria heard the laughter and conversation as they descended the stairs.
A few others had arrived and they were sitting or standing around, drinks
in hand, food being placed out.  The conversation lulled as they joined the
group.  The moved to a lose circle, sitting or kneeling on pillows, or
crossing their legs right on the floor.  Seth guided her to the opening the
circle and sat behind her.  He nodded to Darren.
   "Don't feel bad about this, Zaria," Darren said.  "We were going to play
nice through the festival until you gave us the out." He swept his hand to
indicate those gathered.  "We have different goals from the rest of the
group, and," he looked at the others who had shown up, people Zaria had
never met before, "members whom we feel are more aligned with those goals,
but shunned by everyone else."
   Zaria looked at Seth.  "I was under the impression that you led them,
told them what to do."
   "I could have forced them." Seth shrugged.  "I didn't care.  I changed.
They didn't want to follow the current.  These are the people I care about:
understated talents, natural ability, similar inclinations.  You don't have
to be 'initiated' into this group." He glanced to her.  "I am capable of
judging a person on sight."
   "Took you long enough to work that out," Darren smirked.
   "True," Seth sighed.  He waved at Darren to continue.
   They talked through most of the evening, getting to know each other,
talking about the group they had just left, much laughter and gossip and
venting was had.  Seth was quiet as usual, lying on the floor just behind
her, wrapped around her sitting fame, paying none of them attention, but
listening as intently as ever.  Zaria wasn't left out.  They'd asked about
her drawing, how she had come into her talent, how they had met.
   "What do you want from this?" Jason asked.
   "From what?"
   "The group."
   "Um," she glanced down to Seth, but his eyes were closed.  She wasn't
entirely sure he was awake.  "I don't know.  I wasn't aware there was a
group until a couple hours ago.  I'm actually very confused.  I'm not even
religious or observant."
   "She did the same thing to me," Hunter offered, nodding to Myra. 
"Recruited.  Sign up.  Even participated in a working before I got the
memo."
   "Yeah, I set a ward," Zaria said.
   Hunter grinned.  "Exactly."
   "If we could give you anything, grant you any wish," Jason explained. 
"What would you ask for?"
   "I..." She looked down at her lap.  He had to be asleep.  "I already
have what I want."
   Seth smirked and caressed her leg.
   <->
Written: March 2012
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Puppy