Soul of a Witch (Souls Trilogy)

Behind House Laverne, at the very end of a cobblestone path that meandered into the trees, stood a beautiful mausoleum carved of stone. An old graveyard surrounded it, overgrown with fauna, headstones and elegant statuary spread out beneath the trees.

The mausoleum was large in comparison to the little graveyard it watched over. The pale stone was webbed with bronze veins, and its square structure was crowned with a dome of elaborate stained glass. Weeping angels reclined between pillars set into the outer walls, arms outstretched in despair, beautiful faces veiled.

Callum looked as if he could have been one of those angels brought to life — if said angels were wicked instead of beseeching, full of mischief instead of mourning. Fingers laced, we made our way down the cobblestone path.

“Is Grams buried here?” I said, pausing to brush away dirt and vines from a crooked headstone. The year of death was 1902, and my eyes practically bugged out of my head at its age.

“She is. I buried her myself,” Callum said. “The moment she died, her ghost was banging all over the house demanding to be buried. Do you have any idea how picky she was?” I certainly didn’t. “She wanted me to sing hymns. Me! A demon! Singing hymns!” He shook his head, huffing with such disbelief one would think he’d been asked to prance naked between the headstones. “But I did it. I don’t understand human death customs, but it made her stop nagging me.”

He turned to stare at me as I snickered, trying not to completely lose it at the thought of Callum standing out here with Gram’s shrouded corpse, singing Hellenistic hymns.

Callum folded his arms, claws tapping irritably on his bicep. “I see my suffering amuses you. It’s only fair you amuse me in return.”

“Oh?” I turned from admiring the elaborate gravestone before me, giving him an innocent look. “Did you bring the strap out here? That certainly seemed to entertain you.”

He tried to maintain his grumpy glower, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Never should have given you a taste of that. Give one little inch and you take —”

“It was much bigger than one little inch, Callum.”

One moment, he was standing near the graveyard gate; the next, he had snatched me up and pressed me against the wall of the mausoleum.

“My, my, you’ve gotten bold, haven’t you, darling? Perhaps you forget whose pretty little neck is most vulnerable to throttling between the two of us?” To prove his point, his clawed fingers pinned me by the throat. He didn’t stifle my air, but slightly squeezed the sides of my neck until my head swam and I caught my breath, gasping in his hold.

“I may be weaker than you,” I dared to say. “But you would beg me to throttle you and whine if I didn’t acquiesce.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “So, who’s more vulnerable between us really? The witch or the desperate horny demon?”

“You must be trying to provoke me.” His voice lowered in warning. “Such a determined little witch would do well to remember her safeword if she wants to proceed.”

“Mercy,” I said, “is not something I’ll be asking for.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He lowered me to my feet and stepped back. “Get to work then, witch. There’s a horde of wraiths waiting for you in there. It’s time you dispatched them.”

My face fell. Fear slithered up my spine. “Wait, you want me to go in there — alone?”

“Certainly. A witch so bold and confident as you shouldn’t have an issue destroying them.” He waved his hand flippantly, and I glared as I realized what he was doing.

If he thought he could gain the upper hand by getting me to beg for his help, he was sorely mistaken. Even with my stomach flipping in trepidation, I drew in a deep breath and said, “Fine. It’s not a problem at all.”

Striding toward the chained doors of the mausoleum, I told myself not to be afraid. The sooner I began practicing my magic, the better — and what better opportunity than this? Killing shrieking, blade-wielding wraiths…in a graveyard…not scary at all.

Stopping in front of the doors, I glanced back at Callum. He folded his arms, nodding his head toward the door as if to say, Go on.

What a dick.

I grasped the lock and it sprung open in my fingers. The doors swung inward, creaking on their hinges. A rush of stale, dusty air rushed out to greet me. The walls were lined with statuary standing in rounded alcoves with tall, narrow windows illuminating them from behind. Gleaming copper beams supported the domed ceiling, like rows of crosses lining the long narrow path ahead.

In the dreary light, wisps of shadow drifted silently through the gloom. They hadn’t noticed me — at least, not yet. Gulping at the sight of them, I fumbled to pull the grimoire out of my bag and hurriedly flipped through the pages.

There were plenty of spells that sounded unpleasant: flogging, flaying, ripping, and burning spells. But were these meant to be deadly? Or was I only going to irritate the monsters, encouraging them to attack?

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have time to give it any more thought. Callum slapped his hand loudly against the wall of the mausoleum, nearly making me jump out of my skin and instantly drawing the attention of every wraith present. A dozen pairs of glowing silver eyes turned toward me, shrieks echoing in the air as they realized an intruder was in their midst.

“You’re such an asshole!” I snapped. A wall of billowing flame manifested before me as I flung my arms up in panic, so massive and so hot I flinched away from it, causing the barrier to dissipate instantaneously.

My concentration was already shattered as I sprinted out of the way of the encroaching wraiths, only to find myself surrounded. Using one of the copper columns as a shield between myself and them, I tried to read one of the spells in the grimoire as rapidly as I could.

“Convertat ossa…ossa sua ad …ad pulvis!”

Why the hell did nothing happen?!

“What a unique spell to choose,” Callum said. He was leaning against the door frame, watching with rapt attention as I fled around the interior with the wraiths at my heels. “Turning one’s bones to dust would indeed be an unpleasant way to die. If one had bones in the first place.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm!” I yelped, stumbling and nearly falling flat on my back as two wraiths flew forward, their ragged robes billowing around them as they slashed their blades toward me. Still with no time to think, I defensively put up my arms and a thrum of power pulsed around me. The wraiths were pushed back, but only barely.

This wasn’t working. My focus wasn’t strong enough for any of the spells I attempted, and I couldn’t read while being pursued.

Callum was now examining his claws, staring at them with extreme focus. “You’re going to exhaust yourself running in circles.”

“Shut. Up!”

I flung two useless balls of flame toward the pursuing monsters, but the fire dissipated into harmless smoke. A deadly blade swung down, coming within inches of my face —

Only to be stopped by Callum’s hand.

He stood over me, arm outstretched, gripping the sword as if it was made of wood.

“When fighting with magic, it’s imperative you understand your enemies,” he said. His fingers tightened, veins blackening in his arms. “Wraiths are barely corporeal. Their forms are extremely fragile, therefore, using the element of air would be wisest.”

He forced the wraith back, then seized another. His claws tore through their bodies easily, rending them into pieces of ragged fabric that screamed as they disappeared.

“Or I could get myself some claws,” I said. Sarcasm wasn’t the right choice.

One of the wraiths slipped around him and came at me. With a terrified shriek, I swiftly threw everything I could think of at it: bursts of air, poofs of fire, even a strange ball of freezing cold water that I wasn’t entirely sure how I manifested. The grimoire slipped out of my grasp, and I scrambled for it, seizing it from the floor right as the wraith descended toward me and I realized I’d made a grievous error.

Callum had the same realization. He crossed the room in a split second, gripping the wrath by the back of its cloak and ripping it away from me. Lifting it into the air with one hand, he slammed it continually against the stone floor.

In just a few seconds, he’d destroyed every wraith. They weren’t even a threat to him.

But with our enemies dispatched, the demon’s dark attention turned on me.

“What a tragedy,” he said. His face was cast in shadow, but I could feel his eyes on me. “The bold but ill-prepared witch fell victim to her enemies. Shocking.”

“You told me to go after them!” Drenched with embarrassment, I huffed as I shoved the grimoire back into my bag.

“Hubris can be even more deadly than fear,” he said, circling me slowly. His claws clicked on the floor with every step; an ominous sound within that enclosed, echoing space. “I told you to dispatch them; I did not tell you how. You could have asked. You chose not to.”

“Well, I didn’t know I was supposed to!” I was all bluster now, snapping back at him for no reason other than to have the last word. Turning for the door, I only made it a few steps before something snapped around my wrist and yanked me back.

A black rope wound around my wrist, holding me tight. The other end was in Callum’s hand, and he coiled it around his palm, dragging me closer.

“Where do you think you’re going, witch?” he said. “Your lesson isn’t over.”

He coiled the rope again, forcing me to take a few more stumbling steps toward him. Any attempts to yank my arm back were useless; neither he nor the rope were budging.

“Allowing yourself to be so panicked and distracted before going into battle is not only foolish, it’s lethal,” he said, dragging me even closer. “You are a clever woman with a powerful mind. You’re above such rash decisions.”

His scolding was having an effect I didn’t expect. It was arousing.

Had I hit my head the night he rescued me from the forest? I’d always been the definition of a Goodie Two-shoes, desperate to follow the rules, eager to repent at the slightest suggestion I’d done something wrong. But that stern tone of disapproval in his voice was setting off fireworks in my head.

“Let go,” I said. Bracing my legs, I thought I could resist being pulled any closer. I was wrong.

He wound the rope around his hand yet again. He tweaked up an eyebrow in challenge as I stumbled forward, swearing at him all the while.

“Let yourself go,” he said.

Grasping the rope, eyes narrowed at him in fury, I closed my eyes to concentrate. But it didn’t help; it just filled my mind with visions of Callum’s sardonic smile, fantasies of him scolding me before coming up with some diabolical way to punish me.

Spanking me, perhaps.

My eyes flew open when I was able to imagine such a scenario a bit too vividly.

“Lost in your thoughts?” Callum teased. “You’re far too easy to distract. It gives your enemies more than enough time to take advantage of you.”

This time, he tugged the rope quickly, forcing me all the way until I had to catch myself against his chest. He grasped my face as I struggled against him.

“Mercy?” he asked softly.

“No.” I wasn’t prepared when his claws tightened on my jaw and forced me to stand still.

“Pride has no place in your training.” His voice was sharp, drenched in authority. “If one of my warriors continually allowed pride to stand in the way of their learning, I would ensure they had no pride left to lean on.” His hand tightened, forcing me up onto my tiptoes as I grasped his forearm. “Perhaps I should do the same to you.”

Delicious fear somersaulted in my belly. All those erotic books I’d used for years to fuel my fantasies were throwing me into overdrive now that I had a real-life fantasy unfolding before me. But my nervous, awkward mind was determined to screw me over even more, and the urge to laugh bubbled up in my throat.

My brain had decided to malfunction and laughter was the only response I could manage.

Callum’s eyes widened at the sound of my sudden, nervous giggle, then narrowed when I slapped my hand over my mouth in shock.

“Does that idea entertain you? If you’re craving discipline, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

More ropes appeared, slithering over the ground and coiling up my limbs. In a matter of seconds, I was overtaken and suspended in the air. The ropes behaved as if they had a mind of their own, but I knew it was all Callum’s doing. He directed them subtly, with little movements of his fingers or with merely a look. They slid under my clothes in an invasive exploration that made me glare at him venomously.

With my limbs helplessly spread, I could only watch as he slid his nail down my blouse, cutting the buttons loose one at a time.

As a member of the itty-bitty titty committee, I rarely wore a bra unless I really had to. So, when he pushed the fabric apart, he paused for several long moments to appraise me.

“Beautiful…” He murmured the word like a prayer, hands squeezing my breasts before pinching my nipples between his fingers.

The ropes tightened. Pulled backward, I was bound to one of the T-shaped copper columns. My arms were spread, wrists bound to the horizontal beam above. The rope braided itself around my chest, hips, and legs with expert precision, supporting my weight without pinching.

“What a pretty picture you make. A virgin on a cross.” He surveyed me like an art critic, eyes narrowed, claws thoughtfully stroking his face. “Is it prophetic? Or perhaps symbolic? Will you cry for God?”

“Never. And I’m not a virgin anymore. You made sure of that.”

“You’re close enough.” His fingers traced the contours of my body; taking his time, exploring me, pausing when he noticed a physical reaction from me. “You still blush like one. Just look at those lovely, pink cheeks.”

He brought his mouth dangerously close to mine. I thought he would kiss me. He didn’t. Instead, he hovered there, a grin on his face as he pressed his thigh between my legs, forcing them apart. The ropes tightened again, squeezing against my clitoris until I saw stars. Tensing my muscles, I attempted to lift myself, to somehow ease the tension of the rope, but it didn’t work.

“Are you whining at me?” He slipped two fingers beneath the rope and tugged it repeatedly, making a horrendously embarrassing cry burst out of me. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t learn now, I’m afraid you won’t be nearly so lucky next time. So, what have we learned, Everly?”

“That you’re a dick,” I gasped, and he shook his head.

“Wrong answer.”

The ropes between my legs loosened, but they didn’t disappear. They coiled down my legs, repositioning them so my ankles were bound behind the column. This forced my legs to remain spread apart, my muscles quickly feeling the strain of my position. As I hung there, huffing and puffing, Callum held up two fingers so I could see his claws disappear.

“Where do you think I’m going to put these?” he said, twiddling his fingers in my face. “I’d bet you want them in your pussy, don’t you? Making you drip all over my hand.”

With no other options available besides uttering my safeword — which I had no desire to do — I nodded my head, hoping my cooperation would inspire him to pleasure me instead of punish me.

This was a wicked game I was bound to lose, but I wanted to play anyway.

“Please…” My voice was soft and desperate, but instead of looking at me with pity, Callum only grew more excited.

“I’m afraid begging won’t help you now.” His tongue slid over his lips, as if I were a piece of meat hanging before him.

His fingers dipped into my arousal as he stroked the digits over me. Whimpers burst out of me as he teased my pleasure to a frenzied height.

He withdrew his touch at the last possible moment, when I was certain I was going to fall apart in orgasmic bliss. Crying out in despair, I struggled against the ropes until they dug into my skin, and I had to stop, panting to catch my breath.

“What have you learned?” He repeated his question, painfully calm and condescendingly patient.

The fact that I was supposed to learn something from this had completely left my mind. All I could think about were the sensations assaulting me — the weight of my body against the ropes, the refreshing ache of air filling my lungs, the pulsating heat between my legs.

“I learned I’m not very good at magic.”

Callum went very, very still.

“Would you care to repeat that?” His low voice told me I shouldn’t have said it at all.

“I learned, uhm…I learned that…” I couldn’t think of the right words when he had my body so torn between pain and pleasure.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? When the God assaulted my mind, It inflicted confusion. Terror, pain, bliss — It used those feelings like a weapon.

“I can’t get distracted,” I blurted, grasping at my sudden realization. “I learned I can’t let myself be distracted, and I need to — ahh —”

His fingers were between my legs again, but it wasn’t my pussy he was teasing. He reached further back, probing my puckered hole. I whimpered as he pressed one finger into that tight ring of muscle.

“It’s not discipline if you don’t suffer,” he mocked. His fingers were slick with my arousal, and the intrusion felt strange at first. But as he worked his finger in and out of me, I lost the ability to speak. He forced lewd sounds out of me that I hadn’t been aware I was capable of making.

“I will not allow you to use your mistake to disrespect yourself,” he said. “You lack skill in magic because you’ve never practiced. You do not lack potential nor power; don’t think for a single second that you do.”

“Y-yes, you’re right. I’m…fuck —” My voice broke as he eased a second finger inside my ass. It was tight enough to be uncomfortable, but slick enough not to hurt. My brain was going to short circuit.

“Your control over magic will improve with time.” He was as calm and composed as if we were merely taking a stroll through the garden. “Your lack of experience is by no means the lesson I want you to take away from this. Listen to me.” He gripped my face, moving his fingers inside me as he forced me to hold his gaze. “What did you learn, Everly?”

He withdrew his fingers, and I groaned as he spat on them, lubricating them before entering me again.

“I learned…I can’t…I —”

“Deep breath, darling.” His voice was rough, merciless. “Take a slow breath and calm yourself down. I know it’s hard to take.” He pressed his body closer, gyrating his hips against me so I could feel the hard length of him. The stretch of his fingers in my ass was almost too overwhelming to be pleasurable — the result was a brutal ascent toward orgasm, edging closer with every thrust of his fingers.

“I need to learn about my enemies,” I babbled, spilling the words out as quickly as I could before the thoughts fluttered away again. “I need to be patient and not rush…Shit —” The way he was pressing his hips against me applied pressure to my clit, and my vision grew hazy.

“That’s it, you’ve got it. Good girl. You’ll remember that for next time, won’t you? No more rushing your enemies, no more running into fights without a damn clue what you’re doing. You’re too precious for that, understand?”

“Y-yes, yes, I understand —”

“You’re going to slow down and think. You’re going to be confident in the magic you carry. You’re going to use that clever brain of yours and when you’ve mastered it, I promise there’s nothing in the world that can stop you.”

I was falling apart for him, and he didn’t stop, didn’t let up even the slightest bit as he pushed me over the edge.

As I came down from bliss, shaking and whimpering, Callum held my face and said, “Snap your fingers for me. Show me you can.” I obeyed, snapping my fingers repeatedly until he told me to stop.

“I’m going to silence you now, because you’re going to come for me again, and while you do, I want you to think only of searing that lesson into your brain. No whimpering, no whining, no begging. Understand?” When I nodded eagerly, still drifting on that pleasure high, he added, “If you need me to stop, snap your fingers.”

My mouth snapped shut. My jaw muscles were drawn tight, my teeth clenched together, my sounds held captive behind my sealed lips. It was psychic magic; the demon was nudging my brain to make my body obey.

Callum sank to his knees, and with his two fingers probing my ass, he swirled his tongue over my clit. A cry rose in my throat but didn’t make it past my lips as he closed his mouth over me.

The mausoleum was shockingly quiet. Only the lewd sounds of Callum’s tongue and fingers remained. My body shook, limbs trembling as the ropes held me tight and secure. All I could do was soundlessly scream his name as he brought me to orgasm again.

Dusk had fallen by the time my demon carried me back to the house. Clinging to his back, lying between his wings with every muscle limp and weak, I listened to him talk as I drifted in and out of sleep. He was telling me everything he knew about wraiths: their strengths, their weaknesses. Half the words, I was able to log away in my brain for later.

The other half drifted in one ear and out the other.

I enjoyed listening to him. The timbre of his voice was soothing, deep and rumbling. At first, I wasn’t entirely sure what the warm, swollen feeling in my chest meant. It was comfortable; like how I felt on those rare nights when the rest of my family would leave me at home alone and I could simply listen to music, lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling for hours of contented bliss.

Was this feeling…safety? That was certainly part of it.

But it was more than that too. I was half-asleep as he carried me in the front doors, and his voice softened, but I was glad he didn’t stop talking.

How many years had he spent talking only to himself, before he found someone who wanted to listen?

“You should eat something,” he said. My tired eyes fluttered open for a moment, and I groaned, nuzzling my face against his neck. “What do you need from me, my lady?”

“Play,” I said softly, and he chuckled.

“I hardly think you have the energy to play anymore,” he said, but I shook my head.

“No, I want you to play,” I said sleepily. “The piano.”

I was shocked by the tenderness of his voice. “Of course. As you wish.”

He laid me on the chaise lounge in the piano room, leaving the curtains open so I could look out at the night sky. The fire lit itself, and I snuggled into the blankets. Callum sat on the bench and traced his fingers over the keys, rocking his head from side to side as if imagining a melody.

When he played, it felt like a waking dream. The melody was unfamiliar, but I swayed to it as if I’d known it all my life.