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The Witch's Thirst
The Witch's Thirst
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The Witch's Thirst

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The farther he headed east, the more the crowds began to dissipate, and the cacophony of music, talking and laughter muted to a distant hum.

It felt like he’d walked five miles before he finally spotted Evee walking along the river’s edge, just as she had been before. He noticed her gaze shifting from left to right, then up, obviously trying to sense her Nosferatu and watching for Cartesians at the same time.

Suddenly Evee came to an abrupt stop, and even from where Lucien stood he saw a quizzical look cross her face. She looked up again, turned her head to one side, and Lucien saw her mouth drop open. He followed her gaze and saw it—a widening rift in the sky right above her. A Cartesian was hanging out from it at the waist.

“Run!” Lucien shouted to Evee, then yanked his scabior out of its sheath.

The Cartesian, evidently hearing Lucien’s yell, threw Lucien a piercing, evil look, narrowing its monstrous eyes.

Obviously determined to complete the task before it, the Cartesian turned away from Lucien, stuck one of its long, furry arms tipped with four-inch razor-sharp talons out of the rift, then lifted its arm up and out, aiming for Evee.

It wasn’t hard to determine that Evee had seen the same, for she let out a heart-stopping scream, then took off running—right into the river.

Lucien charged his scabior and shot a bolt of lightning at the Cartesian, hitting it square in the head. It shrieked and flew backward into the rift, and Lucien heard a distinct pop that indicated he’d shoved the monstrosity into the next dimension. The rift remained open, however, and Lucien kept his scabior aimed there, pushing the Cartesian farther and farther back.

By the time Lucien was able to sound off two more pops, a more crucial sound reached his ear. Evee screaming for help.

Like a wild man, Lucien spun about on his heels, tracking the sound of her voice. Evee was still in the river, her head bobbing up and then going under the murky water. Each time her head poked out of the water, less and less of it appeared. She flailed her arms frantically, coughed and sputtered whenever her mouth broke the surface of the water.

Lucien was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was obvious Evee needed to be pulled out of the river, but the rift overhead was still open. If he ignored it and went after Evee, another Cartesian could easily make its way through the rift and take her.

Praying Evee could at least dog-paddle, Lucien put all his energy into the open rift and held on to his scabior with two hands. Although only seconds passed before he heard yet another explosive sound, which meant the Cartesian had been pushed into another dimension and the rift was finally closed, it felt like hours.

For the entire time he fought the Cartesian, all Lucien heard was Evee sputtering and screaming, “H-help! I c-can’t swim!”

Chapter 3 (#u1ff86f51-1a71-5020-900c-a6494694c309)

Evee knew she was about to die. Panic-stricken, she paddled with hands and feet as hard as she could to stay afloat in the water, but it was only enough to get her nose and mouth to break surface—every once in a while. Each time she got sucked down below the surface, her mouth and nose filled with muddy silt from the river. Bad enough she couldn’t breathe, it made her want to throw up. The few seconds she broke the surface of the water she spent coughing, gagging, trying to cøapture as much oxygen as she could before slipping helplessly downward.

She tried moving her arms like she’d seen swimmers do, out and down, kicking furiously, desperate to move up and forward. But her body refused to stay horizontal. It felt weighted with stones and determined to pull her feetfirst down into the depths of the Mississippi.

Evee didn’t know what scared her more: the realization that she was about to drown or having seen the Cartesian take aim for her. Either way, she didn’t plan to go quietly into any dark night. All she knew to do was to keep fighting, struggling, hoping.

For the life of her, Evee had no idea why she’d run into the river instead of in the opposite direction toward land and buildings. Surely she would have found a safe, dry place to hide. But something seemed to overtake her logical brain as soon as she saw the Cartesian’s arm cock and aim. Her brain immediately screamed, RUN! And in that horrifying moment, the only direction that made sense to her was away.

Even as she bobbed up and then underwater, fighting for air, for her life, she still saw the gruesome face of the Cartesian in her mind’s eye. Monstrously huge head covered with scraggly fur. Long, pointed ears that flapped over at the tips. A flat nose with no bridge, and nostrils that looked canyon-size. Eyes solid black, without pupils, and the size of saucers. And its teeth, the most horrible of all—each tooth a thick pointed incisor, a mouth equipped to shred and masticate anything it got hold of. She shuddered, thinking about it.

Trying to keep her wits about her and forcing herself to think of the water, the enemy trying to destroy her now, Evee kicked harder, moved her arms and hands overhead, then down one at a time, hoping for progress. She heard herself crying out for help, but the voice sounded like it came from far away and from someone else. She didn’t know which was worse: drowning or being chewed to death by a Cartesian. Both carried the same weight of fear in her heart.

Exhaustion sat atop her like concrete blocks, forcing her lower into the water. She barely had the energy to care anymore.

As she sank lower into the dark water, Evee suddenly felt an arm wrap around her waist. Freaked, she twisted and turned, trying to get away. Opened her mouth to scream, only to have it fill with silt. She only had a few seconds of breath left in her lungs, and she used it to struggle all the more. The more she fought, the tighter the grip grew on her waist.

Finally, after what seemed to take an eternity, her head surfaced above water. Evee coughed, spat and gasped. When her lungs filled with air, her brain suddenly went into overdrive. She screamed, looking left and right, then up, searching for the Cartesian. Then the pressure around her waist registered once again, and all she saw in her mind’s eye were long black talons ready to gut her from stem to stern. She screamed, whirling about, shoving her elbows backward, trying to pummel whatever held her.

“Stop, it’s me, Evee. It’s me.”

Evee heard the voice, but her fear overrode recognition. She tried frantically to get away. “Let go, you ugly son of a bitch! Let me go!”

Arms wrapped around her waist tighter, and she felt her back pressed against...a man?

“It’s me, Evee. Lucien. You’re safe. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Startled, Evee turned her head sharply to the left. Lucien’s face loomed beside her. A whimper of gratitude escaped her.

“The C-Cartesian,” Evee said. “I—I...it...” Before any more words could form, she burst into tears that quickly turned into sobs, her body shivering against Lucien.

“I know,” he said softly against her ear. “But you’re safe now. I’ve got you. The Cartesian is gone. You’re safe.”

Evee put her arms around his neck, and Lucien swam closer to shore. Before long, he stood upright, leaned over and scooped her into his arms.

Without another thought, she wrapped both of her arms around his neck as he walked onto shore, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She shivered as if she’d just been dunked into a tub of ice water.

“I’m taking you home so you can get into some dry clothes,” Lucien said matter-of-factly.

“I—I can walk from here,” Evee said through chattering teeth. She removed her arms from around his neck, and Lucien set her tentatively, seemingly reluctantly, on her feet.

The minute her feet touched the ground, it felt like every muscle in Evee’s body suddenly turned to mush. She felt her body go limp, but before she hit the ground, Lucien had her back in his arms again.

Neither of them spoke as Lucien walked the long distance to her home. She clung to him once more, buried her face against his chest. She felt safe in his arms, as if the bulging muscles in his arms and chest, his soft breath against her hair and face, was the safest place on earth. He never once broke stride or panted for breath as he cradled her.

It wasn’t until they’d crossed the threshold of the three-story Victorian that Evee and her sisters called home, which they’d inherited from their mother, that Lucien set her feet back on the ground. He held on to her arm, as if making sure she’d stand steady before fully releasing her.

Evee had no sooner leaned against the kitchen table to catch her breath than Hoot, her horned owl familiar, came flying into the room at full speed. He flew straight toward Lucien, swooped down onto his left shoulder and dug his talons into him.

“Let go of him now!” Evee shouted hoarsely at Hoot, shooing him away.

“He has no business being here, Evette. Make him leave,” Hoot demanded.

Evee was grateful that she was the only one, besides the Elders, who could understand her familiar. Everyone else, including Lucien, only heard squawks, squeals and chirps. She shooed at Hoot again. He remained on Lucien’s shoulder, talons digging in deeper until Lucien grimaced.

“You had no business bringing him here alone,” Hoot said. “And look at you. Just look at you. Soaking wet. What did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Are you bleeding anywhere? Have you been bruised? Damaged?”

Unable to answer Hoot’s questions without sounding like a loon, Evee said sternly, “No! Let go of him right this minute or I’ll put you in your cage.”

With a shrill shriek of anger, Hoot finally released Lucien’s shoulder and took flight, leaving the kitchen and heading for the foyer.

“That’s some pet you have there,” Lucien said, rubbing the shoulder that Hoot had dug into.

Evee sighed. “He’s my familiar and overprotective.”

“What exactly does a familiar do? Does every witch have one?”

“Most of the witches I know do. Familiars are supposed to be our eyes and ears when we’re not around. Their purpose is mostly to warn us of pending danger. Hoot does that for me, but he’s also bossy and gets carried away at times.”

Lucien gave her a small smile. “It’s nice to know you have someone looking after you.”

Their eyes locked for a moment, and Evee felt her knees grow weak. Not from exhaustion this time, but from desire. It felt like desire, anyway, but could have been the aftermath of shock from the Cartesian attack and near drowning. She shook her head slightly, trying to clear her thoughts. It was then she noticed that she and Lucien were both soaking wet and dripping water all over the floor.

“There’s a shower down here if you’d like to use it,” Evee said. She pointed past the kitchen toward the front of the house. “Just past the foyer and living area is a hallway. Take a left there and you’ll find a bathroom. Last door on the right. I’ll use the one on the second floor.” As an afterthought she put a finger to her lips, then said, “I’m sorry I don’t have any dry clothes to offer you. House full of women, you know. But there’s a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door that you’re welcome to use. And back here...” Evee led him to a small room located at the far end of the kitchen near the back door. The room held a washer and dryer, utility sink and folding table. “You can just toss your clothes in the dryer while you shower.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “Dry sounds like a great plan. I’ll wait to shower when I go back to the hotel.”

“Y-you’re going back to the hotel?” Evee asked, then mentally admonished herself for sounding so needy.

They stood so close together in the small room that she felt Lucien’s breath as he spoke. Just being this close to him calmed her. She forgot about the wet clothes on her own body and the chill that had her shaking since Lucien pulled her from the river. His presence sent heat radiating through her body, chasing away any semblance of cold.

“If you don’t mind,” Lucien said, “I’ll dry my shirt first so you can direct me on the dryer settings.” He grinned. “Too many buttons and gadgets on that machine. Left to myself, I’d probably shrink my shirt down two sizes or nuke it into ashes.”

“No problem,” Evee said, then held her breath as Lucien reached behind his head with both hands, grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Seeing him bare-chested with rippled abs and sculpted, muscular arms stole what little breath Evee had left. She gasped to refill her lungs. An embarrassing sound at such a wrong time.

“Are you okay?” Lucien asked, his brow knitting.

“Huh?” Evee had been so absorbed with the sight and scent of Lucien so close to her, she hadn’t heard what he’d said.

He handed her his wet shirt. “I asked if you were okay. You gasped. I was concerned it might have come from residual water from the river in your lungs.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” She took his shirt, threw it into the dryer and set the dryer on its gentle cycle so the T wouldn’t shrink, then pressed the start button.

Evee glanced back at Lucien, trying not to focus on his chest. “Your jeans are heavier material, so set the dryer on time-dry for them.” She pointed to the appropriate knob. “Both shirt and jeans will be dry before you know it.” Evee didn’t tell him what cycle would be best for his underwear. For all she knew, Lucien might be flying commando. Either way, she felt confident he’d figure it out.

Since the incident with the Cartesians and the near drowning, Evee felt out of sorts and confused. She found herself wanting, aching to feel the safety of Lucien. Just like when he’d carried her home.

She felt heat radiating from Lucien’s chest, which was lightly matted with dark brown and black hair that formed a narrow path to the top of his jeans.

Evee felt awkward as she watched him remove his watch and set it on the washer. She had no business standing here. She had to shower and dress, as well, yet felt glued to where she stood. Unable to take her eyes off him.

Lucien turned to her, and she studied his strong, chiseled face, his eyes greener than the depths of the Pacific Ocean. An unspoken question flickered across his face, and Evee fumbled for something to say.

As Lucien stared at her, his eyes soft yet piercing, she said, “I—I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Sorry about what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Evee glanced down for a few seconds before looking back up at him. “I forgot to say thank-you.”

“For?”

“Saving my life. You know, from the Cartesian, from drowning.”

“My pleasure, I assure you.” Lucien tilted his head slightly. “If you don’t mind me asking, don’t you control the element of water?”

Evee nodded.

“Yet it frightens you. Why is that?”

She shook her head. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what the water thing is all about. I never did get it. I’m supposed to control the element of water, and I can, but from a distance. I don’t know why I have such a fear of it. All I think about is drowning. Maybe it’s a former life thing. Maybe I drowned in some other life and hold repressed memories about it. Then again, it could just be a weird phobia.” She shrugged, feeling all the more uncomfortable. She was rambling like an idiot. She felt her cheeks grow warm. “I think not understanding it frightens me most of all.”

“Life has a lot of unanswered questions,” Lucien said, his voice low and husky.

She nodded and watched as his amazing eyes turned to a smoldering forest green.

“Whatever the reason,” Evee said, trying to get her wits about her, “please accept my gratitude for your help.”

“Accepted,” Lucien said with a soft smile.

Something inside Evee told her to move on. To go upstairs and shower as she’d proposed earlier. Instead, she stood staring at him. Neither of them said a word.

Before she knew it, Evee sensed what almost felt like human hands push her closer to Lucien, seemingly without her consent. Suddenly, she found her lips on Lucien’s, kissing him fiercely. His hands cupped the sides of her face and he returned the kiss, matching her ferocity.

The moment her lips touched Lucien’s, Evee felt such a thirst overtake her, it was like every ounce of moisture in her body had been depleted, her body suddenly dehydrated. So much so she could have drunk the entire Mississippi River and would still be craving more.

His full lips, so delicious, succulent.

Lucien’s lips moved over her chin, down the side of her neck.

A moan escaped Evee’s lips, and she whispered, “Don’t let me go...don’t.” She tangled her fingers into his collar-length black hair and pulled him closer.

Without warning and in one fell swoop, Lucien dropped his hands to Evee’s waist, then lifted her up onto the dryer. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her long and deep.

Evee wrapped her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers into his hair. Her hair and clothes were still soaked from the river, but neither seemed to notice or care.

Lucien’s hands moved at what felt like an infinitesimally slow pace, from her waist to the top of her thighs.

She groaned reflexively, and Lucien broke their kiss, studied her face, his eyes smoldering green, hypnotic.

Their eyes remained locked, their faces only a few inches away from each other. Lucien’s eyes seemed to call on something deep inside her.

Locked in that moment, Lucien moved his hands to rest near the top of her thighs. He placed his thumbs between her legs, and she felt heat roll from her with the fierceness of a bonfire. He pressed his thumbs down a bit harder and began to rub his right thumb left and his left thumb right in the center of her legs.

Evee gasped loudly. She heard a loud humming in her ears and suspected the sound to be her own blood rushing hot and fast through her body. She arched her back, pushed her hips toward him.

Evee’s mouth found Lucien’s again and she took his tongue into her mouth and sucked hard as his thumbs moved faster, pressed harder against her.

Fire roared through her until Evee broke their kiss and arched her back, crying out, “Yes! Lucien, yes!” And in that moment a tsunami of all orgasms overtook her, washing away the fear that had held her captive earlier, shoving away every insecure thought, every inhibition she’d ever known. Shaking, she clung to Lucien once more.

“I need you,” she said unabashedly. “I need you inside me.”

Lucien took her face into his hands. “There’s nothing I want more. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known, Evee. But taking you now, after all you’ve just gone through, would make me feel...” He smoothed her hair with a hand. “Not now. Trust me. We’ll have our time together. When and if it’s right. I promise.”

With that, Lucien gently moved his hands from between her legs, wrapped them around her waist and lifted her off the dryer and placed her on the floor.

Evee wobbled once, and he caught her. He held on to her arms until her feet felt steady beneath her.

“Go now,” Lucien whispered in her ear. “Shower. Get into some dry clothes. I’ll let Ronan know what happened—except for this part, of course. We’ll regroup.”

Evee nodded slowly, then made her way clumsily back into the kitchen and through the foyer. As she headed up the stairs, her body still humming from Lucien’s touch, she was grateful Hoot had made himself scarce. The last thing she needed was her familiar giving her a morality lesson and killing her buzz.