Later that night Melanie and I sat face to face over a burning candle set on a little table on my balcony. Slowly, we chanted the words to The Ritual of Separation, the spell that allowed me to split my spirit from my body and travel free. It was the basis of my magic, the foundation of a witch’s power.
Before we began, I had tied a little silver bell and red ribbon into my hair. The bell was silent, its clapper gone.
The bell and ribbon were artifacts left behind by my great-great-grandma, Emma Kendall Moran, carefully hidden behind the wall in the basement of her old Dorchester house. In our quest to learn witchcraft — real witchcraft — Melanie and I had rescued them from there, along with her spell book and notes. And along with her cylene, a three inch sewing needle, which I now had slipped into the hem of my jersey. I would not need its power, I hoped, but just in case.
We finished the spell. On speaking the final words, I felt the calm, soothing glow of separation. Then I split, floating above myself. My body, now without a spirit, slumped back into the chair. My eyes — my body’s eyes — fell shut. Melanie leaned forward with a somber look.
I kissed her cheek. The silver bell, now complete in its spirit form, let out a gentle ring.
Melanie smiled.
“I’ll be back soon, sweetie,” I said.
She reached for me, but touched nothing. My spirit had no form or substance, except when I wanted it to.
I rushed off into the night toward Iris’s apartment. I knew where she lived.
The powers of a witch were limited. We could not do everything one might imagine a witch could do. We could not see the past or future, nor peer into anyone’s mind and know their thoughts, nor could we control them like a puppet, force them to fall in love, or anything like that. No, our magic was subtle. The cornerstone of everything was spirit separation. All witches could leave their body and travel as a spirit, invisible, formless.
Which made us terrific spies, if we got lucky and arrived when someone was doing something worth spying on.
So that is what I hoped, that I would catch Iris doing something that revealed how she knew about Mandy and Leticia. I climbed high above the neighborhoods of South Boston, seeking her building, a little brick apartment complex on Columbia where it turned east and ran north of the harbor. When I found it, I swooped down. The wind, which faintly touched my spirit, rushed by.
As I settled in the parking lot behind her place, Iris was just leaving through the glass doors. Tonight she was wearing a green skirt and a violet tee. It wasn’t particularly goth looking, except she still wore the dog collar tight around her neck. She strutted over to a parked BMW and got in.
Crap!
As a spirit I could move pretty fast, especially when I climbed high. But I couldn’t move as fast as a car. And if I tried to sit in the car, actually in the seat, touching it for real instead of passing through like a ghost, my bell would ring. It rang whenever I actually touched something solid.
I would make a lousy spy with my bell ringing.
But still, if traffic was heavy and the car didn’t go too fast, I could hover along with it. I swept down through the roof and into the passenger compartment. I occupied the empty space in the back seat.
In the front seat, Iris was kissing the driver, a beautiful girl in a tiny red dress. The girl had a narrow, elegant neck and soft, chestnut hair, which was tied up high in elaborate plaits. When she turned to face Iris, I could see her long dark lashes and deep red lips. Her cheeks were very pale.
“You ready, baby?” the girl said, putting her hand on Iris’s knee just below the hem of her green tartan skirt. I drifted a bit over the seat to look at Iris’s pale, thin legs.
Iris said, “Hey Larissa. Yeah, I’m ready.” Then she rested her hand on the girl’s hand. They gazed at each other and smiled.
The car began to move through the parking lot. I drifted along with it. When it sped up, I sped up. When it slowed, I did too.
“So,” the girl — Larissa, I gathered her name was — said, “it’s such an awesome night, so clear and cool. I feel like doing it outside. You game?”
“I suppose.” Iris gave her a sidelong glance. “But isn’t that kinda risky?”
The car had just arrived at the exit of the parking lot. Larissa looked over at Iris and grinned. “I know a place. Very secluded. Plus, if they catch us…” She raised her eyebrows. “Well, you know.”
Iris giggled.
We pulled out onto Columbia and began to speed up, fast enough that they might leave me behind. But then a truck careened out from a side street right in front of us. Larissa hit the brakes hard and the car skidded a bit. In spirit form, I was moving fast, and briefly I found myself outside with the slowing car behind me. I adjusted and again drifted into the car.
The brake lights of the truck came on. It weaved back and forth between lanes.
“Fucker,” Larissa said. “I should burn his soul.”
“Speaking of which,” Iris said, “can you cast a curse for me?”
Larissa turned to her. “Huh? What?”
“A curse. There’s this bitch at school who won’t help me out with a problem. Can you curse her?”
I got very curious. Just then, we were turning onto the roundabout where Columbia joined Old Colony Ave. I was having a hard time staying in the car. Larissa gunned the engine and whipped past the truck. She began to speed up.
“Maybe. Tell me about her.”
I was going to lose them. If I did, I could climb high and move fast. Perhaps then I would spot them below and be able to follow. But then, maybe not. Boston had lots of cars, endless twisty streets, and miles of tunnels.
Quickly, I reached and plucked out a few strands of Iris’s hair. My silver bell rang.
“Ow!” Iris said. She reached up and felt her head.
At the same time the car swerved and Larissa said, “What the fuck was that?”
“Huh? Something bit me.”
“No, the bell.”
If either of them turned around and looked, this wouldn’t work. At that moment I was in spirit form holding the hairs, which to them would appear to be floating in the air unsupported. If one of them saw that, I would lose my grip on the hairs. I could not hold stuff in plain view of someone — unless that someone could also see my spirit.
But I had a trick. I said, “Siive,” a magical command that let me bring physical things into the spirit world. Quickly, the hairs became solid to me — and invisible to them. I held the hairs tight and stopped moving. The car kept going. A split-second later I was alone, hovering above the dark street while their taillights got further away. Next I spoke another magical command, “Mercio kaput.” I felt a surge of energy, which hurled me rapidly through the night. After a brief flash of rushing buildings and streets, I found myself in my body, on my balcony, looking at Melanie.
“That was fast,” she said. “Did you find something?”
“Yeah. Lots.” I showed her the hairs.
I didn’t think Larissa was a witch, even for all the talk of burning souls and curses. A real witch would know second sight, a ritual that allowed her to see into the spirit world. It was a basic spell. Every witch learned it very early. It was easy to cast — I cast mine each morning and it lasted the full day. If she had second sight, she would have seen me. If she had seen me, I would have noticed, something, some clue, even if only the shifting of her eyes.
No, she wasn’t a witch.
“So,” Melanie said when I told her this, “what do you think she is?”
I shrugged. “A poser, maybe.”
Melanie sucked on her bottom lip. On her face was a somber look. “Like us?”
She meant like us before we had discovered Grandma Emma’s spell book.
She went on, “I mean, like we used to be.”
She got quiet, and I guessed what she was thinking: that she wasn’t a real witch, that she couldn’t cast spells, and that she could only study, learn, and cast alongside me.
I squeezed her hand. “Yeah, like we used to be.”
She looked down at the three hairs, which I had stuck to the table with a bit of clear tape. Next to them the candle flickered. She asked, “Are you going to follow her?”
“Soon, sweetie. I don’t wanna go too early, before they get to where they’re going.”
I could track Iris by her hair. But if I cast too early, I might arrive while they were still speeding in the car, which would do me no good.
“Let’s wait ten more minutes,” I said.
About that long had passed so far. She nodded. Then she squirmed and said, “Wanna kiss or something?”
I glanced at the door that led into my kitchen. It was after ten o’clock. My parents were likely in bed. If not, we could usually hear them tramping across the house and making the old wooden floor creak.
It was worth the chance. Kissing Melanie was always worth the chance.
“Sure, sweetie. Let’s.”
She came over and slid onto my lap, such a small girl. I played with her pigtails and kissed her cheek. She put her arms around my neck and pulled herself to me. Then our mouths locked.
Sweet kisses.
About ten minutes later, I stopped and said, “That’s enough, darling. Let’s cast.”
She gave a small nod.
One last kiss, then she went back to her seat. We sat face to face and joined hands. Then we began the ritual, a combined ritual: Separation, to free my spirit, and Finding, to send me to Iris. Near the end of the spell, Melanie held one of the three hairs in the flame. It crackled and burned. My spirit split away, but I had no time to stay and kiss Melanie. Instead I shot off into the night, much faster than I could normally move. This was the Ritual of Finding.
I soared high. Beneath me the lights of South Boston and Dorchester streamed by. Behind me, the downtown skyline receded. I was hurling south toward Milton and Quincy, and toward a dark stretch of wooded hills beyond. I began to descend. I flew low over the speckled lights of Milton and, past that, over the dark trees. I dropped even lower, moving fast. I raced along a narrow dirt road cut into the woods. I arrived to a place over their car. Yes, they still drove, but here in the woods they moved slowly. Their headlights lit a bright cone that crept along the narrow lane.
I slowed and drifted into the car. In the darkness, the two girls were quiet silhouettes. Iris rested her head on Larissa’s shoulder. I could hear rocks and gravel crunch beneath the tires.
After such a rapid journey, I felt a soothing warmth seep through me. The car and I crept between the trees.
“We’ll come to a clearing just ahead,” Larissa said. “This hill is pretty high. We’ll have an awesome view of the city.”
Iris sat up straight and looked out the window. We emerged into the clearing. After circling the car around to face the city, Larissa shut off the engine.
The view of the city was indeed pretty great.
“Well,” Larissa said, “ready?” She put her arm around Iris’s shoulders.
“Yeah,” Iris said. “Let’s go.”
Iris opened her door and climbed out of the car. Larissa leaned over the seat — her head and torso passing directly through me — and grabbed a blanket and bag from the floor. Then she got out also. I followed.
By then Iris had scouted around. She stood on a flat area with no grass and a clear view north. “This is a good spot. Not too rocky.”
Larissa came over and together they spread out the blanket. Then they plopped down, kicked off their shoes, and rolled over and hugged each other.
“Mmm,” Larissa said, “well, this is nice.”
Iris squirmed in her arms and said, “Kiss me.”
They kissed deeply. I drifted directly over them and looked down.
Soon they were going pretty hot and heavy. Larissa pulled up Iris’s skirt and rubbed her bottom. Iris held tight to Larissa’s back and rubbed their breasts together.
“Oh, fuck,” Larissa said, breaking from the kiss. “Okay, hold on.” She sighed and breathed heavy. “Let’s do the ritual first, okay?”
Iris squeezed Larissa’s nipples through the flimsy fabric of her dress. Larissa stroked Iris’s hair and said, “Seriously, the ritual.”
Iris released Larissa’s nipples and giggled. “Sure.”
“I’ll get set up.”
Larissa rolled over and, from the bag, removed a candle in a brass holder. That she set in the middle of the blanket. Next she fumbled with a lighter. While this went on, Iris shifted position and sat opposite, facing her over the candle. Larissa got the lighter burning. She got the candle lit.
From above I watched. It seemed such a tiny flame under the wide sky. Faint shadows danced along the rocky ground. It grew quiet. On their faces were wide-eyed, eager looks.
“Ready?” Larissa asked. Iris nodded.
Larissa began. “O Thantaroos!” she called out in a husky voice. “O Osorronophris! I call on thee! Hear us. Hear our call.”
“Hear our call,” Iris repeated.
I smiled at the names they called.
“O Duke Gusion, the eleventh of his order, who knows all things, hear our call.”
Iris reached over the candle and touched Larissa’s face. “Yes, hear our call.”
Larissa squeezed Iris’s hand.
“O Marax, O Ipus, lords of darkness, hear us, answer our call.”
Iris leaned over the candle to kiss Larissa, but Larissa leaned away and crinkled her nose.
Her voice began to rise. “O Naberius, O Shan, come to us, bring us your power!”
I knew those names well. They were bogus names from crazy old spell books, the sort you could find in the library. Back before we had discovered Grandma Emma’s book, Melanie and I had gone through all of those and tried most of the spells.
That magic didn’t work.
“O Paumichia, O Beralanensis — by your wicked deeds — I command your spirits to come.”
Iris reached and grasped both of Larissa’s hands. She squeezed them and rocked her shoulders. “Yes! O dark beings, come to us.” She had a gigantic grin.
A breeze drifted through the trees around us. The leaves rustled.
“Do you feel it?” Larissa said in a low voice. “They’re near, on the edge. Sit up straight. The ritual is almost done.”
Iris sat straight with her hands on her lap. Larissa continued, now in a loud, sonorous voice, “O mighty beings, unborn ones, denizens of the higher spheres, manifest here before us, and give us our fondest dreams.”
The breeze fell away and the night was quiet. The two girls sat face to face, eyes locked, eager.
“They’ll come,” Larissa said. Iris squirmed and giggled. She reached up and squeezed her own nipples.
As I floated over them, I wondered, had a real witch ever watched Melanie and me like this, while we played our foolish games, as we cast our phony spells? If so, what had she thought? Did we seem pathetic? Stupid? Lame?
Or else, did she find us delightful?
I drifted lower and wondered, more than anything else, would another witch — had one ever watched us — be tempted to do what I was about to do? I came down between them, near to touching the candle.
“I feel them,” Iris said. One hand squeezed her own breast, the other was up her own skirt. Larissa watched with a wide-eyed, hungry expression.
I pinched the candle wick. The flame went out. My little bell rang.
Larissa shrieked and shot back. She landed on her butt beyond the edge of the blanket. Iris squealed.
“Wow!” Iris said. She giggled. “I just got the biggest chill.”
“I heard that bell again,” Larissa said. “Did you hear it?”
Without the candle, the night was dark, but I had no eyes that needed to adjust. Their silhouettes were clear to me in the moonlight.
“Yeah. I heard it. Is it one of them?”
Larissa came forward again and crouched down on one knee. She seemed poised, ready for something. “Yeah, baby, I’m sure it is.”
In spirit form, if I spoke, people could hear me. I said in a low, raspy voice, “What do you ask of the higher spheres?”
For a few seconds there was no sound but their breathing and the gentle flutter of the leaves. But soon Iris began to emit a long, strange, high-pitched squealing sound. She bounced up and down on her knees. Then her voice changed to laughter and she rolled over onto her side. “They’re real! They’re really real!” She kicked her feet up and down on the blanket.
“Yeah, baby, they’re real,” Larissa said. She looked around suspiciously.
“What would you ask?” I repeated.
“Name yourself,” Larissa said.
I drifted close to her ear. “We are Legion.”
I moved around to her face and saw her eyes. They darted about, grew wide, took in the shadowy night, the figure of Iris, the trees beyond. But they did not see me.
“Okay, Legion,” she said. “I want wealth. Millions — no! Billions.”
I drifted behind her. “What else?”
Iris sat up and smoothed out her skirt, which had slid up and bunched around her tummy. “Can I ask something too?”
Larissa grabbed her arm. “Hold on, baby. Wait! Just sit.” She turned back to me — to where my voice had been. “Okay, Legion, show us a sign that you have power.”
I drifted away from her. The girls sat fixed in place.
After a few seconds, Iris asked, “Is she gone?”
“I don’t know. Legion! Show us a sign.”
I came down behind Iris and reached around her. I placed my hands on her breasts. My bell rang.
Iris shook, squealed, and then rolled away. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”
“What!” Larissa said.
“She touched me!”
“What? Where?”
I moved to Iris again, close to her ear. I whispered, “Be calm, sweetie. Just relax.” I touched her breasts again — again my bell rang.
“She’s rubbing my tits.” Iris began to giggle. Larissa slid over close and watched. Iris lay back and splayed out her arms and legs. “It’s so soft and tingly.” She squirmed.
Next I ran a finger up her thigh, a slow, soft, ghostly caress. I didn’t even need to raise her skirt, my hand passed through that as if it weren’t there. My bell rang and rang.
“Oh god, oh god! She’s getting near my kitty. She’s gonna fuck me.”
I stopped before I reached her place. She breathed deeply. “Oh god! She stopped. Please — uh — Legion, whoever you are! Don’t stop.” She pulled up her skirt.
Again I drifted near to Larissa’s ear. “Fuck her,” I said.
Larissa didn’t wait at all. She plunged forward on top of Iris and began to kiss her, squeeze her, caress her. Frantically, each girl began to strip off the other’s clothes.
“Oh god, oh fuck,” Iris said. She giggled, sighed, and moaned. Larissa, on the other hand, remained quiet, her expression serious, her motions slow, practiced, masterful.
I watched as she brought small, squirming Iris to the edge of climax, again and again, but not quite there — with her hands and mouth — until Iris was a quivering, helpless, desperate thing.
“Oh, please! More! Please! Oh! Oh!”
In spirit form I could not actually feel aroused, at least, not that craving down low. But I could feel other things: a longing, a sense of beauty, a yearning for a girl’s pretty eyes, her eager laugh. No, it was not that hot, titillating surge. But still, I could desire a thing.
“Finish her,” I whispered.
Larissa put her mouth on Iris’s pussy and brought her home.
Later, after Iris gave Larissa hers, I was floating above them. Beneath me they lay side by side, hands clasped, eyes looking up into the sky.
“Do you think she’s still here?” Iris asked.
“Dunno.”
“What was she? A goddess? An angel?”
“Really, I don’t know.”
Iris shifted her hips closer to Larissa until they touched. “I loved fucking you. Like, this was the best night ever.” She grinned.
Larissa turned to her and kissed her. “Yeah, baby. I loved fucking you too.”
I spoke. “Now! What would you ask of the higher spheres?”
Larissa rolled to her back. Both of them faced up.
This time Iris spoke. “Can we ask anything?”
“Just ask.”
“What you gonna ask?” Larissa said.
“Can you curse a girl?”
Even after such a long, lovely fuck, she could still think of cursing me? I drifted low.
“Who would you curse?”
“Veronica Moran.”
I floated directly over her.
“Be careful,” Larissa said. “These things can get tricky.”
“How would you curse her?”
Iris stopped and seemed to think.
Larissa said, “Don’t! Just wait, think.”
Iris sucked on her bottom lip.
“How?” I said again.
Iris sat up. “Like, make her my slave. Or, no! Make her love me — so much she can’t help but do anything I ask.”
“Iris!” Larissa said. “That’s bad stuff.”
Iris smiled and touched her own breasts. “Oh, Larissa, wait till you see her. She’s like, well, she dresses like crap. But she’s beautiful — big, strong, and amazing.” She looked up. “O spirit! O mighty lady! I command you to make Veronica Moran fall madly and love with me and give me all I ask. And fuck me whenever I want!”
She was beaming. I felt bewildered. Slowly, I drifted back toward the trees, toward the shadows. Larissa sat up behind Iris and wrapped her arms around her. Iris squeezed Larissa’s hands. Then she called out, “Will you do it? I want her to crawl to me — totally, madly in love!”
I kept moving. Soon the dark woods closed over me.
Later I floated high above the hills, with the orange glow of Milton surrounding me and the bright white glow of Boston before me to the north. In the east, to my right, the waters of the bay stretched and shimmered in the moonlight. Here and there, along the vague line of the horizon, shadowy islands poked up from the sea.
I could say mercio kaput at any time and be home fast, nearly instantly. But I did not. I hovered. I felt the cold winds pass through my spirit form. I heard the cry of the seabirds soaring high, gray specks in the cloudless, glimmering sky.
Was Iris in love with me? It was clear she lusted for me, but was it more? Was asking me to help her a pretext?
Or was she drunk with power, wanting to taste of my heart, to possess me by the will of the gods, but feeling nothing herself? Who could see behind her eyes, what her true nature was?
Well, actually, I could, if I had taken the deeper step, the final mastery of witchcraft, the gnosis of symbol and metaphor. Once before I had done it, in my battle with Jessica to save Melanie. Could I do it again?
But then, why bother? Iris didn’t have a chance. No, nothing in the world — or beyond it — could tempt me from Melanie. But still, an enemy was an easy thing to have. A girl obsessed with love — that was a different matter.
Poor, sweet Iris Breene, with her light-blue eyes and small, girlish breasts. So pretty.
I pictured her face as she climaxed, smiling, squirming, giggling. In my mind, I saw her pale thighs jut from beneath the hem of a black and lacy dress.
I decided it was time to hurry home to Melanie.
“Mercio kaput!”
When I arrived back in my body and opened my eyes, Melanie sat across from me in the shadows. Between us, the candle had gone out, or perhaps she had put it out. In any case it was dark and quiet. I blinked and cleared my eyes, let them slowly focus. But I didn’t move. I watched her small shadowy form, her stubby pigtails, her skinny waist. Her legs were pulled up onto the chair in front of her. Her arms were wrapped around them and her chin rested on her knees. She peered out from the balcony at a pretty old tree that grew at the edge of our yard. The air was quiet and calm down this low, near the ground, even on my third-floor balcony. The branches of the tree didn’t move.
“Sweetie,” I whispered.
Slowly, she turned to me. “You’re back? Good. What did you learn?”
“Shh.” I raised my finger to my lips. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now, I just wanna look at you.”
She turned to face me, lowering her legs so that I could see her body in the moonlight.
“Will you touch yourself?” I asked.
She didn’t move right away. Instead, she waited for a bit. But then, soon enough, she brought both hands to her breasts and began to squeeze.
“Like this?” she asked.
“That’s a good start.”
I also brought my own hands to my breasts.
“You’re very beautiful,” I said.
She leaned forward to get up.
“No, sweetie. Wait.”
She stopped.
“Just stay there.”
She leaned back.
“I wanna watch, for a while. I just want to see you.”
Her hands returned to her breasts. “Okay.”
I squeezed my nipples through my jersey, pulled them, twisted them. I sucked on my lower lip and moaned.
She kept her right hand on her breasts. The other went down low.
“Should I do this?” she asked.
“Yes. Do it.”
She pulled up her skirt and put her hand between her legs. I continued to squeeze my breasts and pull my nipples.
She let out a long, soothing moan.
“Go ahead, sweetie. Bring yourself there — but not quite, almost. Okay?”
She didn’t say any words. She gazed at me and rubbed. Gradually, she began to rub faster. She rubbed, squirmed, and watched me.
Suddenly she twitched and grunted. “I’m close.”
I released my breasts and went to her, leaned before her. Her legs parted. I pulled aside her panties and ate her hot, wet pussy until she came.
“Oh! Oh! Veronica.”
O Melanie.
Two days later after school I had to work again. I sat on the swivel chair behind the counter, sorting a variety of yellow buttons by color and size. Holly strutted back in forth on the other side, tracing her fingers over the glass surface.
“Slow day,” she said.
I held two very similar buttons in front of me. One was slightly larger, so I tossed each into a different box.
“I guess.” I grabbed some more buttons.
She stopped and faced me. “I wanna ask you… So, you eat pussy, right?”
I set down the buttons and looked at her.
“I mean, I’m not judging you. Whatever, right. I’m open-minded. But, like, are you fucking that little weird girl that was here the other day?”
I blinked. “You mean Iris?”
She shrugged. “The freaky one all in black.”
“That’s Iris. And, no, I’m not fucking her.”
“Ah, okay.” She turned and paced again. When she reached the end of the counter, she began to wipe down a ribbon display.
I picked up the buttons again. Then I said, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing. Just, she’s been coming around looking for you. She showed up yesterday.”
“Ah.”
Just then, the little bell over the door rang and Iris appeared. Today, in addition to her dog collar, she wore a black tee shirt and short violet skirt with fine lavender embroidery. On her face was lots of mascara.
Holly gave me a big smile. Iris stepped through the door halfway and said, “Veronica! You’re here. Look! Wait! Please come out and talk to me. Okay?”
She stepped into the store and waited. Holly arched her brow.
“Please,” Iris said.
“Fine. I’ll talk to you.” I got up. “But just for a bit, okay?” I walked around the counter.
“Take as long as you want,” Holly said. “I mean, it ain’t busy. And if something happens, I can ring your cell.”
“Great!” Iris said. “Wanna get Mexican?”
There was a Mexican joint just down the street.
“Sure,” I said. “Mexican would be fine.”
I walked over to the door. When I arrived, Iris looped her arm through mine. “Let’s go,” she said with a huge smile.
“Iris, please don’t hold my arm.”
“Aww!” she pressed closer. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it. Come on!”
She pulled me out the door onto the street. Had I resisted, she wouldn’t have had a chance. But I let her. As the door closed behind me, I heard Holly call out, “Have fun!”
“She seems nice,” Iris said. “Does she like girls?”
I didn’t bother answering that.
Fifteen minutes later we sat face to face over a messy wooden table. A bucket of chips and a bowl of salsa sat between us. Iris took a chip and munched on it. She swallowed.
“So, Veronica, see, lemme explain the other day. Like, how I know.”
“Okay.”
She smiled at me. Then she said, “You have pretty eyes.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands.
I looked at her, waiting. She just gazed. Then she sat back and picked up a bottle of hot sauce. She fiddled with its cap.
“You were going to tell me what you know. Who told you?”
She set down the bottle. “Mandy Mathers — but please don’t be mad at her! Please, please. I mean, I begged her to tell me. Begged and begged. Like” — she leaned forward again — “she knows I’m into magic too.”
She reached across the table and grabbed my hand with both of hers. “So, please, just listen.”
Her hands felt warm as she entwined my fingers with her fingers, wiggling them, lightly touching.
“I have this friend Larissa, and she’s a sorceress.”
Her gaze locked onto mine, as if she were reading my expression, waiting for me to do something. I just sat there. She continued.
“Well, we do stuff — and — ” She let go of my hand and squirmed in her chair. “It doesn’t seem to work — well — it didn’t seem to work, not yet, the other day when I talked to you.”
She sat up and glanced around as the waitress passed near. When we were alone again, she continued, “Anyway, I wanted you to show us some magic, ’cause Mandy swore your stuff worked.”
“I see. You wanted me to teach you magic.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“For money?”
She nodded. “That’s okay, right?”
Was it? To teach her? For money?
Officially, I was qualified to teach magic. But things were complicated in the witchy world. We didn’t just teach. Instead, senior witches took on junior witches as apprentices and servants — and, in fact, sex partners.
Yes, for witches, sex was the unit of exchange.
Which is why I didn’t have much contact with other witches. I had Melanie, and she was enough for me.
“Still got the three-hundred?” I asked.
That said, whatever other witches did, I could use the money really bad.
She looked down. “Well — I do. But see, the other night we did something and it worked!” She peered up at me, grinning. “So, maybe we don’t need you to teach us.”
“That’s fine Iris.” I began to get up. If there was no money coming, and now that I knew the story behind all of this, I saw no reason to stay and chat.
“But one thing,” I said, “this stays secret. Mandy shouldn’t be mouthing off to you about what I did for her. And about how I did it, that’s my business only. If you guys wanna think it was magic, that’s fine. But keep that to yourself.”
I grabbed my backpack and pulled out a few dollars. “For the salsa.”
She sat back with her arms crossed. “Please don’t go yet.”
“Is there anything else to say?”
“Yes. Please, just sit. There’s a lot more to say.”
She gazed at me with her lovely eyes. I tossed down my backpack and returned to my seat.
“Fine. Make it quick.”
A brilliant smile crossed her face. “See, I have to tell you about the magic, the magic we did, the magic that worked.”
She reached over the table and took my hand again — this time she grabbed it tight. “You’re very beautiful. Did I mention your eyes?”
She began to draw my hand toward her. She tugged, and I didn’t resist. I let her pull me forward over the table, until my hand reached her chest and touched her small breast.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” she said.
I glanced around the restaurant. It wasn’t too crowded, but neither was it empty. The waitresses scurried to and fro, the other patrons nibbled at chips or stuffed down burritos, and the bartender, who stood behind the bar just two tables away, salted the rims of glasses. No one seemed to notice us.
She brought my hand to her mouth and kissed it.
“You’re mine, Veronica. You don’t really have a choice.”
“Please let go of my hand.”
She didn’t let go. “You see, it’s magic.” She gave my index finger a little love bite. “You can try to fight it, but you won’t be able to. Strong forces will overcome you, beyond what you can understand.” She leaned forward. Her eyes blazed. “So, like, don’t bother to fight. Don’t wait for the passion. Don’t hold back and suffer when your soul hungers for my kiss. Just give in. You don’t have a choice.”
She released my hand and stood. The bartender glanced over at us and smiled.
“Iris — ”
Quickly, she stepped around the table and pressed her index finger to my lips. “Don’t speak! Not yet.” She slid behind me and wrapped her arms around me.
The bartender whispered something to a passing waitress.
“Iris,” I said. “No, sorry. I’m with Mel.”
Her hands were clasped just beneath my breasts.
“So,” I went on, “like, this is nice, and you’re very sexy, and sure, I feel magic coming from you, but no, none of that is stronger than Melanie.”
“Oh, baby,” she whispered into my ear, “you can keep Melanie. I have a girlfriend too.”
She squeezed my torso and kissed my neck. Then she released me.
“This’ll be fun to watch,” she said as she stepped back to her chair.
“What?”
She sat again. “You fighting the magic, the will of the higher spheres.”
I blinked.
“Yes! The higher spheres. I called on their power. I commanded them to make you love me.”
“Iris — ”
“You’ll lose, of course.” She curled one leg up onto the chair and sat back, leaning a bit to one side. “But you’re brave and strong and the battle will be terrific.”
Suddenly the waitress arrived and placed two margaritas on the table between us. “On the house,” she whispered. “Shh.” She held her finger to her mouth.
I glanced over to the bartender. He nodded and smiled. Iris picked up her drink with both hands and sipped.
“See,” she said, “it’s magic.”