The Witching Hour: 11 Enchanting Novels Featuring Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Shifters, Ghosts, Fae, and More!, page 205
I wanted him. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him.
“Fuck me,” I gasped, digging my fingernails into the muscles of his back.
He shoved his middle finger inside of me.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Cooper growled from between my breasts, pumping slowly, dragging it out before pushing it in again.
My vision blurred. My head fell back.
It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted all of him. Every hard inch. Cupping him through his jeans, I could tell that there were a lot of inches there to take. I’d been with a lot of guys before, enough that I didn’t bother counting, but none that took my breath away when I felt the size of them through their pants. Cooper was incredible all over.
I rubbed hard, stroking his length, trying to make him as insane as he made me. His breath went ragged on my neck. His finger lost rhythm.
“Come on,” I groaned. “Fuck me, Cooper.”
Glass shattered.
For a moment, we didn’t move. We remained locked together, my leg hooked around his hip, his fingers deep inside of me, pressing against my G spot.
Shouts rose from the bar.
Cooper gave a low, delicious chuckle and said, “I should stop them before they rip the bar apart.”
I whimpered as he withdrew. He kissed me again, hot and lingering, and then ripped himself away from me to stop the fight in the bar. It was getting worse—loud and rowdy with more shattering bottles. That was usually when Gloria rolled in with her stilettos and started crushing testicles. I wanted to see how Cooper handled it. I was certain he would be impressive to watch. Then maybe he could fuck me against the bar, high on the adrenaline of victory. Let the men watch.
But the back door opened and shut, and Tatiana stepped in.
“Thank goodness,” she said when she saw me. She was still in sweatpants. “You have to come.”
I struggled to remember how to breathe, much less get out coherent language. I glanced down at my mostly-naked body. Grabbed a shirt out of my locker, pulled it over my head. “What is it now?”
“I think Kelsie’s dying.”
I stuffed my purse full of ritual supplies before following Tatiana to the Coyote Ranch.
Lobo Norte was about as far from a big city as you could get, but I’d still never visited most of the buildings within our borders. My life was limited to the space between my bar and my trailer, plus the long hikes I took out into the foothills whenever the temperature was below a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I didn’t go to the gas station. I didn’t go to The Lodge. And I definitely didn’t go to the Ranch.
Its interior was decorated like Hugh Hefner’s fantasy, if he’d only had about a hundred bucks instead of millions. The walls were plastered with animal print. The floor was peeling laminate with sixties-era shag rugs. The wet bar was padded on the outside. The rest of the furniture in the “lobby” was covered in plastic, from the couches to the wingback chairs. All incredibly classy.
There were three bedrooms in the double-wide. One for each girl. Tatiana led me to the one in the middle.
Leanne sat at the side of the bed—a large, round mattress with red velvet sheets—looking pale and worried under her caked-on makeup. She had a full face on even though the Ranch had no customers. Lipstick with dark eyeliner, winged mascara, blue eyeshadow all the way up to her eyebrows, dramatic contouring that failed to make her square face look feminine.
I couldn’t judge. I was the one wearing chaps and a cowboy hat.
My contouring was better, though.
Kelsie, resting in bed, was easily wearing just as much makeup as Leanne, but she looked far worse. It was like she had tried to prepare herself for the night with the lights turned off. Her lipstick was smeared. Her fake eyelashes weren’t attached in the right place. The concealer did nothing to hide the dark rings under her eyes. She writhed in a sweaty tangle of sheets, her shelf bra askew and stockings pushed down to her ankles. She didn’t look at me when I entered. She groaned, clenched her fists in the sheets, arched her back.
“Hey, Ofelia,” Leanne said. “How’s it going?” Like we were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while rather than competition.
“I’m all right.” I glanced at Tatiana, who was hanging back in the door and chewing on her fingernails. “Too much lethe, you said?”
“Think so.”
Dropping my purse on the floor, I sat next to Kelsie and pulled her arm toward me. She barely reacted to my touch.
There were no needle marks on her veins. No bruising. No sign that she had been injecting. It was the easiest way to overdose on lethe—the nosebleeds usually got too bad to snort it to the point of danger.
The writhing didn’t look like a lethe overdose anyway. She should have been zonked out and loopy. Not in pain.
“Kelsie?” I asked softly, stroking her hand. “You hear me, girl?”
Her eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t focus.
I untangled the sheets from around her and bared her skin. I didn’t see punctures on the insides of her thighs, between her fingers and toes, or behind her knees. None of the places that I used to shoot up in order to hide the marks from my brothers. As far as I could tell, Kelsie was clean.
Her bra looked uncomfortably tight, and she was laboring to breathe. I unhooked it. Pulled it off. And I gasped.
Leanne stood to get a better look. “What in the world?”
There were red handprints on the underside of her breasts, just barely hidden by her lacy lingerie. The fingers looked long and slender. The marks weren’t quite bruises—almost more like burns.
“Lordy,” Tatiana said. “One of the bikers?”
I had a hard time imagining what they could have done to her to cause marks like that. Grabbing her hard might have left fingerprint bruises, but these were near-perfect imprints of the entire hand, curving around her large nipples to cover most of the breast tissue. Plus, some manhandling wouldn’t leave her sickly.
“That’s not right,” Leanne said.
I had to agree. “We need more help. Johnny would know what to do.” I’d never missed him before, yet I would have given my favorite pair of boots to have him back right at that moment.
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Tatiana asked.
I opened my mouth to tell her no. But then my eyes fell on the purse I’d dropped by the bed.
Abuelita hadn’t just taught me tracking spells, wards, and kitchen witchery. She’d tried to teach me some healing spells, too. I’d never done all that well at them—healing magic was among the most difficult—but I knew how to string together a ritual. I could give it a try.
Reluctantly, I nodded. My mouth felt dry. “I’m going to need a few things.”
Tatiana perked up. “Whatever you want, I’ll go find it.”
I gave them a list. Tatiana and Leanne ran off to get supplies.
And I began casting a circle of power around Kelsie’s bed.
10
I wasn’t much for big, flashy spells, but my eldest brother, Domingo, had enjoyed casting incredibly complicated rituals. The kind of things that had gotten him into deep trouble, like spells that compelled everyone in a building to ignore him. He’d knocked over three 7-Elevens like that before the cops caught up with him and found him with all the stolen cigarettes.
The kind of trouble I got into wasn’t anything like Domingo’s, but I’d still learned a few things by watching him.
Like how to cast a heck of a circle of power.
I sprinkled salt in a line ringing Kelsie’s bed first, then grabbed candles from a box in the closet. They weren’t the kind I had in my trailer. They were the kind with edible wax that smelled like molten candy. They’d have to be good enough tonight—hopefully the spirits wouldn’t be too offended by all the glitter.
I set the first candle in the east next to a butter knife. Not exactly my usual athame, but I didn’t have anything better nearby. “I call upon the guardian of the watchtower of the east, spirit of air,” I said, uncomfortably aware of Leanne and Tatiana watching me from outside the circle. They were whispering to each other. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, or if they thought I was crazy. “Arise to empower this circle.”
Magic pulsed through me, making my fingertips tingle. The candle flame burned brighter and glinted on the silver blade of the knife.
I went to each of the other cardinal directions, using the elemental representations that the girls had brought me at each one: sand for the north, a second candle for south, a Solo cup of tap water for west.
The circle closed around me with a solid yet silent thump. I felt it deep in my chest. The whole room hummed with energy. I sighed.
“Did something just happen?” Leanne muttered to Tatiana. Guess they weren’t even vaguely witchy.
Kelsie’s fitful tossing had slowed in bed. Now she was just panting and sweating. The hand prints on her breasts had darkened. They were actually blistered now.
I emptied the contents of my purse and Tatiana’s grocery bag on the bed, trying to decide how I was going to put together a healing spell with what little I had. I’d brought a few common herbs from my lazy susan at home, and Tatiana had brought me a bunch of chunky costume jewelry to serve as stand-ins for crystals. Leanne had contributed bandages and a few vessels from the gas station. Which meant plastic cups and an empty bottle of tequila.
Better than nothing, but only slightly.
The bandaids would be helpful. They represented healing in the most obvious way possible and would help guide the magic. I set those beside Kelsie, then started mixing herbs.
“Blessed Hecate, work thy will,” I murmured. “And I sure hope your will is making Kelsie more comfortable.”
I drew on the strength in the circle of power as I stirred the herbs, combining aloe vera with mint, a little sage, some sweet marjoram. Abuelita had told me that the specific ingredients weren’t the important part. It was the intent, the strength of will. So I focused my entire heart on the idea of Kelsie healed. No longer sweating and thrashing with a pounding heart, but restful. I pictured her breasts unmarked. I imagined her sitting up and smiling.
Please, Hecate. Help her.
With my eyes closed, I could almost see the magic filling me. It poured through my circle from the earth. It swirled around me in a tidal wave of power.
Strangely, it also looked to be coming from the sky—the same way that The Devil’s tracking spell had pointed straight up at the sun.
Help her, Hecate…
The paste in the plastic cup began to glow faintly, growing hot. Excitement thrilled through me. I dipped one of the largest bandaids into it. “Sorry for the grabbiness, Kelsie,” I said, knowing she couldn’t hear me.
Carefully, I spread the bandaid over her left breast, covering as much of the handprint as possible. She cried out in her sleep, twisting away from me.
“Oh, no,” Leanne said, stepping toward us.
Tatiana caught her before she crossed the salt line. “Careful!” I’d warned them that breaking the circle would break the spell, too. Good to see one of them had remembered.
Quickly dipping a second bandaid in the paste, I covered Kelsie’s other mark.
For an instant, my hands seemed to glow just like the magical mixture I had made, burning with starlight. We were all starlight. All four of us, including the women outside the circle. And the energy all streamed toward Kelsie.
Then it was gone. She slumped against the bed.
I froze, hands hovering over her, unsure if I should try to do anything else.
“Kelsie?”
The woman responded by snoring softly.
A relieved laugh escaped me. I peeled back a corner of the bandaid to see the handprint fading, though the blisters remained.
I’d done it. I’d healed her.
And Pops had told me Hawke women didn’t cast magic.
“You can come in now,” I said.
Leanne broke the circle and checked Kelsie’s heartbeat by pressing two fingers to her throat. It must have slowed down because she said, “Oh, thank goodness for you, Ofelia. Thank you so much.”
I blushed. I wasn’t embarrassed by getting naked in front of a room filled with horny men, but a little gratitude made me feel incredibly self-conscious. “Don’t thank me yet. I don’t know how much good I’ve done. She’s not awake, is she?”
“But she’s not as feverish,” Tatiana said with a hand on Kelsie’s forehead. “It’s a start.”
Guess we couldn’t ask for more than that.
I left the rest of the bandaids and healing paste on her bedside. I suggested that they could try reapplying in a couple of hours, but I was talking out of my ass—I didn’t really have any idea if reapplying would do anything at all. I just I thought it might make them feel better to have something to do.
“I’ll check on you ladies soon,” I said, sticking everything else in my purse. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Appreciate it, but I think we’ll be okay now. We can last until Johnny’s back. Besides, we’ve got to work, and so do you,” Tatiana said.
As if cued by her words, I heard muffled shouting out in the desert, beyond the walls of the Ranch. The fighting had spilled out of the bar. The bikers were returning to their various campsites around Lobo Norte.
“Careful who you service,” I said. “I still don’t like those handprints.”
Tatiana looked grim. “Don’t worry. We’ll be careful. Real careful.”
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I headed for the door. I felt drained but energized. Sleepy but content. A strange mix of sensations.
“Never thought it was fair Johnny wouldn’t let you work here,” Leanne said. I stopped in the doorway. “I bet you could have been out of here by now if you were earning as much as we do.” She sighed. “Your magic is so pretty. You shouldn’t be in a place like this.”
Johnny had told me that part of the reason he didn’t want me to whore myself out at the Ranch was that the girls hated me—the other part being how ugly and scarred I was. I’d taken his word as truth. But now that I cast my mind back, thinking of the few times that I had talked to the Ranch girls, I realized that they had never been mean to me. If we’d argued at all, it was because I’d started it.
I’d always been a bitch to them, just because Johnny said they hated me.
Guilt crept over me. I turned around, gripping my purse tightly. “Thanks, Leanne.”
Kelsie was breathing deep, caught in restful sleep. I hoped that it would be enough to save her. I hoped she could last until Johnny could fix her up.
If nothing else, I hoped she would die peacefully.
I realized someone was following me halfway back to my trailer.
The night was dark and getting darker fast. The new moon was only a week away. The waxing crescent in the sky couldn’t seem to penetrate the depths of the shadows around me.
My bar was a distant pinpoint of light, seemingly impossible to reach. The desert between the building and me was a long, murky, starless void. Cooper was waiting for me there. Cooper, and safety.
I hadn’t taken the road back because I was trying to avoid the camping bikers. Their voices bounced in the night. It was impossible to pinpoint their origins. I’d thought it would be safer to avoid the places where most of the motorcycles were parked, but instead, I was now surrounded by sagebrush and rocks that looked like lurking men waiting to grab me.
And I heard footsteps.
Whenever I stopped walking, the man following me did, too. I could only hear him when I was moving. I stared around the desert, eyes wide to try to let every ounce of light in. It was impossible to distinguish between the shapes of the gnarled bushes and human bodies. I didn’t think I could see anyone coming after me, but there was no way to be sure.
I didn’t feel alone.
Maybe I was imagining it. Maybe it was just the stress of being alone in Lobo Norte finally catching up with me. Or maybe it really was a biker stalking me back to my trailer, keenly aware that I hadn’t thought to bring Bo Peep with me, hungry to use the stripper in any way he desired.
The generator hadn’t broken on its own. Kelsie hadn’t blistered herself with those handprints.
I walked faster but the bar seemed farther away than it had seconds before.
My mouth opened. “Cooper,” I croaked. I’d been trying to shout. I could barely hear my own voice. How good was a werewolf’s hearing? Would he be able to hear me over the shattering bottles, the shouting gangs, the screams and fighting? I couldn’t rely on that. Like always, I’d have to take care of myself.
I broke into a run. I’m built for strength and flexibility, not speed, so I wouldn’t be breaking any records for sprinting, but adrenaline made me feel like I was flying on the wind.
My pursuer was surprised. The crunch of his soles on the dirt didn’t fall into rhythm with mine. Then he started running, too.
I didn’t look back. I just ran and ran, putting all my energy into speed, leather fringe flying behind me. My heart beat so hard that I could taste it.
Hands reached for my back. I was certain that I wasn’t imagining that.
My trailer grew closer. I swallowed down my pounding heart and leaped for it, hands outstretched. My fingers tingled when I crossed the wards that I had placed around the walls. The door was unlocked. Had I left it unlocked?
I jumped inside. Slammed the door behind me. Flipped every lock and deadbolt. Something hit the other side with a distinct thump.
Backing up until I hit the wall, I stared, wide-eyed, at the curtained window beside my door. The shadow of a man slid over it. He was tall and skinny. That much I could tell. Then he slid away, disappearing, and my trailer was silent.
11
After two years staffing a bar that served biker gangs, I’d become extremely familiar with the catastrophes their parties could leave behind. But I hadn’t ever realized how good Gloria was at damage control until she wasn’t there to pick up after the destruction. I stood in the doorway of the bar with my mop. My jaw dropped open.
