7 comments/ 21343 views/ 8 favorites The Witching Hour Ch. 01 By: angeljack -Thanks to AMY_Monaco for help with editing. If it looks good, the credit goes to her; if not, blame me. Simple. -A man looking for a new life gets more than he expected when he unwittingly moves into a magical community. * So far the beautiful early summer day had been going perfectly as Jack Gardner moved his stuff out of his car and into his new apartment. The sun was shining and everything was going much more smoothly than he had ever expected. He had no way of knowing that before lunch his day would end abruptly with him lying on his concrete landing, broken, unconscious and bleeding to death. There, thought Jack as he dropped the last box of his worldly possessions onto the small stack that he had made in the corner of his tiny room. That's the last of it. Looking around himself at the meager apartment he had just moved into, he had to cringe a little. It was definitely a step down for him, but what the hell, he was starting over from scratch. It's what he had wanted. When it had come time for him to leave the army he had packed his car with his clothes, some of the memento's he had collected over the years and a few of the basics that he could fit; donated the rest to the Good Will and drove away. It wasn't hard, the constant moves and repeated deployments to far off places he had gone through. His six years in the Army had quickly taught him the value of never growing too attached to things. Besides, his ex-wife Kelly had taken most of the furniture and anything else of value that they had collected during their short marriage when she left. Wiping the sweat off of his forehead, he grabbed a coffee cup out of one of the boxes he had already opened and walked to the sink. Thanks to daily exercise, compliments of Uncle Sam, Jack was in pretty good shape. He'd never be Mr. Universe, not by a long shot, but he prided himself in the fact that the multiple trips carrying his stuff up from the car hadn't even begun to wind him. But, this was the middle of June in Georgia; and though it was still a little early in the morning the heat and the humidity were starting to spike. He rinsed out the cup, filled it up with cold water and took a drink. Grimacing, he dumped it down the drain and headed back outside. Jack could never get used to the taste of the water whenever he got to a new place. Not that it was bad, but it never tasted as good as he remembered it when he was growing up in Colorado. It probably had never tasted that good, but memories were funny like that. Having spotted a Coke machine at the bottom of the stairs when he had come in, he decided he would prefer that. Stepping out onto the landing, he shut the door behind him and was headed for the stairs when the sound of voices from the doorway across from his brought him to a stop. The door was cracked open and Jack could hear the sound of a man and a woman arguing heatedly. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she sounded pretty upset, and he sounded pissed. He found himself leaning in closer to the crack in the doorway, listening hard. Jack considered himself a pretty good guy, and he had always tried to be honest, especially with himself. So he could admit that he had a bit of a voyeuristic side to him. One of the guilty pleasures of living in apartments was that you got to know your neighbors very well, most of the time without them ever even knowing it. In fact, in some of the places he had lived while in the army, he had learned everything from what peoples favorite TV shows were to which couples were having marital problems, to which wives were cheating on their husbands -- and vica versa. He had once even been shocked to overhear the extremely vocal bondage fantasies of the middle-aged Christian couple next door. He had only met them once when they had stopped by his apartment shortly after he had moved in to inquire whether he had found Jesus yet and if he would come to church with them. But in this instance it wasn't really like that. Something about the sound of the guy's voice put Jack on edge. No matter how close he got though, he still couldn't hear what was being said. If their apartment was anything like his it had a bedroom off of the main living room/ kitchen, so they were probably in the bedroom. Either that or they were just talking too quietly for him to hear. As he listened though, he could hear them steadily getting louder and he realized with a start that they were coming closer and here he was standing out in the open, leaning towards their door listening. He quickly turned away and started heading down the stairs. The voyeuristic thing was fun, but not if you actually got caught. Besides, he told himself, you should really learn to just mind your own business. Even if there was a problem, neither of them would appreciate him jumping in. Best case scenario they would both just tell him to fuck off and go right back at it. Worse case, well, he really couldn't afford to be evicted on the first day for fighting. He had spent most of his savings getting into this place and buying the cheap furniture that would be delivered tomorrow, and the rest would have to hold him out until his college money started coming in from the army, or he got a job, which ever came first. So he really couldn't afford a whole new set of deposits. Jack was so caught up in his own thoughts as he rounded the last set of stairs toward the vending machine that he almost ran strait into the girl who was on her knees in front of it with her hand stuck up the opening, trying to get out a free drink. Stopping just in time, all thoughts of the couple upstairs fled his mind. He couldn't help but stare down at her, a little grin forming on his face. Her bare legs were perfectly toned and had that sort of sensual glow that only comes naturally, not from time spent out in the sun, even the fake kind you get from a tanning booth. They ran all the way up under a tight blue set of volleyball shorts that barely covered her taut, perfectly formed butt. The loose fitting white t-shirt she had on had slipped forward as she arched her back to get a better angle and from his vantage point he could see right up under it. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra. The smooth underside of her breasts peeked out at him when she twisted her arm around and he instantly felt his cock come to life in his jeans. With her face turned toward the machine, and her medium length black hair falling down around her face, she obviously hadn't heard or seen him come up behind her so he decided to keep still and enjoy the view. It was just the polite thing to do, he wouldn't want to startle her. Heck, with her arm twisted up like that she might hurt herself. He chuckled silently to himself. Right, sure that's why...pervert. As he watched her strain, he couldn't help but wonder if she had any underwear underneath those shorts. Definitely not granny-panties, that was for sure. He could just make out the faint outline of her soft pussy lips through the tight fabric of the shorts and he was suddenly glad that he had chosen to wear a pair of loose fitting jeans, instead of the old pair of gym shorts that he had planned on wearing during the move, because he realized with a start that he was rock hard. With a pop, Jack was brought out of his dazed contemplation of her as she proceeded to pull out the drink she had been after. "Yes!" she exclaimed as she turned around, a look of mischievous triumph on her face, which immediately turned to horror as her eyes fell on him. "I…" Her eyes widened and she froze like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Jack froze too, but for a different reason. As hot as her body had been, he was not prepared for her face. It was all that he could do to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. He was simply awestruck at how amazingly beautiful she was. Jack met beautiful people every day. Those are the girls that he saw when he was driving down town and to actually stop and do a double take. But this was different; it is rare when you actually see someone who is truly movie star beautiful. You know, drop dead gorgeous perfect, and without all the make-up artists and air-brushes that help out the Hollywood types. She recovered faster than he did, the mischievous glint coming back into her eyes and the corners of her mouth twitching up as she recognized the state he was in at the sight of her. "And just what do you think you are doing, sneaking up on a girl like that?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips and glowering up at him from where she was still perched on her knees, clutching her pilfered bottle of Coke. "Well, I…" he started. "Hmm. You wouldn't have been trying to ogle my back-side while I wasn't lookin', would you?" she asked in a teasing voice as her eyes traveled down his body to growing bulge between his legs. "I-ah, no, I…" Jack stammered as he tried unsuccessfully to pull his mind back together. She giggled devilishly as she flounced back to her feet and stepped in close to him, laying her hand gently on his chest. "Mmmm," she said, her voice lowering from girlish into pure sex as she gazed up into his eyes. "Too bad." Jacks could feel his body responding to her touch and her voice as if there was lightning flowing out of her fingers and strait to his cock. He didn't think at that point he could get any harder, but he did, and he was starting to feel painfully confined. Looking into her eyes he felt the promise in them, a promise of pleasure beyond his wildest dreams. He felt as if he was in a dream, a really good dream and he realized he was leaning forward into her touch. He shook his head to clear it and stepped back. Man, this was getting out of control. He was horny, but he wasn't stupid. He didn't even know how old she was and anyway, the last thing he needed was some jealous boyfriend, or worse, some pissed off father to come hunt him down. She definitely looked old enough, but with that petite sort of body, he wasn't sure. Laws being what they were these days, you could never be too careful. He thought he saw a look of disappointment flash across her face as he did, but it was gone so fast he wasn't sure it had even been there, a sly smile replacing it. "And what were you up to?" he asked jokingly, suddenly dying to find some way to change the subject. That stopped her. She looked over at the vending machine guiltily. "Oh, well, I was real thirsty," she said to him. "And the damn machine ate my money, and, well…" She spread her arms wide and shrugged, which caused her breasts to jiggle nicely. "You're not going to tell Miss Munion are you?" she asked suddenly, for the first time actually looking a little scared. "Please don't, they'll kill me if I get thrown out of another place." "No, no," Jack answered. "I don't think we need to do that." He had met Miss Munion earlier that day when he had signed for his keys, and immediately didn't like her. She came across as one of those bitter older people that lived to make other peoples lives miserable. He had met plenty of the type moving from apartment to apartment before. For some reason the apartment manager job always seemed to attract that particular type of person. "Oh, good." She said, breaking back into a smile and opening her bottle of Coke. "So, I haven't seen you around here before." Jack couldn't quite figure this girl out. The repeated and sudden changing of gears had him baffled and he didn't quite know where to go from here. One minute he would swear to god she was willing to strip down right there and go at it, and the next she was chatting like nothing had just happened. "No," he replied, figuring he would just go with the flow. "I just moved in this morning." "Really?" she said, looking a little confused "Normally they don't let... Well, usually it's pretty hard to get in here. I figured you were just visiting." Jack smiled and looked around. This really didn't seem like that exclusive of a place, but she was the second person he had met that had said something similar to him. When he had submitted his application, Miss Munion had all but rolled her eyes at him before she took it to the back room to call for approval. He really hadn't thought much about it at the time, just figuring it was part of her personality, but now that he had a chance to think it over, she honestly had seemed surprised when she came out and said he was approved. Strange. "Huh, I don't know," he said to the girl. "Miss Munion said there had been a sudden opening. I guess I just lucked out." "Weird, I didn't hear about that." The girl was looking at Jack suspiciously, like she didn't quite believe he was telling the truth, but then just as fast the smile returned and she was back to her normal perky self. Though, Jack wasn't sure if he could call anything about this girl normal. "So, what apartment are you in?" "302" he said. As soon as he said it he watched the smile on her face transform, instantly changing from sweet and perky to sly and lascivious. She looked him up and down and suddenly broke out in a very sexy giggle that caused her chest to start bouncing again. He was finding it extremely hard to concentrate on her face, as beautiful as it was, when she did that. "Oooo… you're across from Jenny." She told him. "So you're my new peeping tom." "W-what?" he stammered, his thoughts going back to the top of the stairs. Had she seen him try and look through the door? But she just laughed that sexy laugh again. "Let's just say the view from your balcony can be pretty good from time to time." She laughed at the obvious confusion on his face, and with that she turned and started walking away, her ass swinging seductively behind her. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around Jack," she said over her shoulder as she walked away from him "My names Britt, by the way, since you were too busy staring at my tits to ask." Her giggle followed her around the corner and she was gone. Jack was left red-faced and speechless by the whole episode; and still, he noticed, with a massive hard-on. What the fuck was that? he asked himself as he collected his mind enough to remember that he had come downstairs for a reason and walk over to the vending machine. He pumped in four quarters and hit the button for bottled water and one popped out. Broken, my ass. He laughed. As he twisted off the cap on the water bottle he sat down on the bottom step and thought over the whole episode. The more he thought about it the more he knew that there was no way that it could have happened like he thought it did. God but the feelings he had felt when she touched him. Wow, he thought, listen to me. It has been way too long since I got laid. It had been way too long. It had been over a year and a half since he had left for Iraq the last time, not knowing that in a couple of months he would get a letter from Kelly, telling him that she was sick to death of the army life and she was leaving to live with an old boyfriend and not to try and find her. He couldn't honestly blame her; in the three years that they had been married he had been home less than one and contrary to what everyone says absence does not always make the heart grow fonder. He wasn't still pining for her or anything. He had had a long time over there to work it out on his own and come to accept it. When he had gotten back though, he had been way too busy with getting everything finished and ready to go to want to spend the time necessary to find and build a relationship. Hell, even casual sex took time and effort, two things which he had very little of to spare. So he had turned himself into sort of a hermit. Ha. The Zen Master. Maybe he had taken it a little too far. That must be it. He was just horny and too rusty at the game to realize what was going on. So she had flirted with him. So what? His mind was just playing tricks on him; that was it. Jack sighed and started back up toward his apartment. He was just heading up the second flight when a thought occurred to him. He didn't remember ever telling Britt his name. But she had said it when she walked away. Didn't she? He thought back, he must have said it at some point and just didn't remember. Yeah, that must have been it. Most of the conversation was starting to take on the odd haze that he had felt when she had touched him. Weird. From above him on his landing Jack heard a crash and a small scream that brought him instantaneously out of his thoughts. Shit! He thought and hurried up the remainder of the stairs. What he saw brought him to a screeching halt. Standing outside of the door to the apartment that he had heard the voices coming from earlier was the biggest man Jack had ever seen in his life. Jack himself was six foot even, and while he wasn't freakishly tall by any means, he wasn't really used to having to look up at anyone. The man standing at the doorway, though, had to be pushing seven foot, with a body-builder frame to match. The tight black stretch t-shirt he had on was made to show off muscles that had to be from way too many steroids. "You need to leave, now." Jack heard an amazingly beautiful, feminine voice come from the apartment, but he couldn't see who it was from, because Mongo -- as Jack had instantly dubbed him in his head, for lack of a better name -- was blocking his whole view. The voice was small and seemed quiet, but was unmistakably icy and full of steel. "You'll give me what I came for, bitch," Mongo said, his gravely voice was so rough that it almost didn't sound human "Or I will tear you apart right now. Jacob will understand." "As if either of you would even know what to do with it," came the response from behind the giant, and with it the muscles on the big mans shoulders began to tense. Jack had no clue what the hell they were talking about, but he knew the tone and watching Mongo tense up, he knew what was about to happen. He also knew he was about to do something he would regret. A common misconception, fostered by the movie industry is that every soldier in the army is the killing machine, Steven Segal, Rambo type that loves getting into fights at the drop of a hat. Jack wasn't like that at all. In fact he was usually a pretty passive guy. But for years, he had watched this same scenario play out between his mother and step-father when the asshole would get to drinking too much. On the good days it would leave her with a black eye or a swollen lip. On the bad days though, well, he thought as he stepped out onto the landing, the last one is always the worst. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, lowering the tone of his voice the way he had learned to in the military to chastise one of his soldiers. At the same time he set a good balanced stance and waited. He may have been a passive guy, but he wasn't stupid and the army didn't leave him totally unprepared. "Fuck off, weakling, this is none of your concern," Mongo growled, half turning his head to looking in Jacks direction. The eye that met Jacks was, well, it was wrong. He couldn't quite figure it out, but there was something wrong with this guy. What the hell is this guy on? Jack thought to himself. It had to be drugs of some kind. Weakling, who the fuck says 'weakling'? "Please, just go." Jack heard the voice coming from in the apartment again. He could tell it was directed at him this time, the ice melting away from it, but the steel remaining. Yeah, right, he thought. Every one of them hates needing the help they need the most. He had seen this same thing with his mother. If he did end up having to fight this guy, he didn't expect any thanks from the woman. Hell, she would probably blame him. Oh well, at least he hadn't already unpacked his stuff. The Witching Hour Ch. 01 "Why don't you just take off, asshole," Jack addressed the big man "The cops are on there way and you don't want to meet up with them in your state." It was a bluff, even if Jack hadn't left his cell phone in the apartment, this whole thing would be over long before the cops even made it to there cars. He was banking that in his drugged condition, Mongo wouldn't figure that out. Slowly the hulking form turned towards him and the evil grin told Jack that his bluff was going to be called. The eyes that stared at him looked utterly insane. "Your choice, little man." Mongo growled. And with that he lashed his arm out strait at Jack. As he felt the line of fire shoot across his chest, Jack realized that he had stepped into something way beyond a simple lovers spat. If he hadn't been preparing himself for an attack of some kind already, the knife that he hadn't seen in the man's hand would have likely skewered him. As it was he barely stepped back in time to receive a small slash. Serves you right, he thought, wincing. Poke your nose where it doesn't belong and you might get it cut off. After that there was no more time for thought. The big man was way faster than he had any right to be and it was all Jack could do to dodge the blows that were flying at him almost faster than he could see. He must have been shooting up some sort of methamphetamines to be this fast. A small detached part of his brain registered this, but the rest of it was just trying to stay alive in the furious onslaught. When Mongo's hand came in for another cut, Jack caught his wrist and, using the big man's own momentum, twisted it around behind his back, pressing him forward and up at the same time. As the hulk's head smashed into the wall, that same small part of Jack's brain registered that there was no knife in his hand. Had he dropped it? No, he didn't think so. That train of thought was cut off as Mongo brought his elbow up and smashed it into Jack's chest. It was an impossibly strong hit and even as Jack flew backwards against his own door he knew it shouldn't have even been possible. With an arm bar held in place like he had, Mongo should not have been able to reach him at all, let alone with that much force. Jacks head bounced off of the door and he sagged to the ground. He tried hard to fight the inky blackness that crept up around him but even the massive amounts of adrenaline that his fight or flight instinct was pumping into him couldn't keep unconsciousness away for long. He was done and he knew it. He actually hoped it would hurry, before Mongo could come in for the final blow that Jack knew was coming. He didn't really want to be awake for that. He could feel something that he realized was his own blood dripping down his chest. His eyes were having trouble focusing and his head was suddenly ringing and buzzing to the point that he couldn't hear anything anymore. Damn idiot, he thought angrily at himself, when are you going to learn to mind your own goddamn business? The blow never came though. Instead he felt a sudden gust of wind and he could have sworn he smelt something burning. The strange buzzing in his ears stopped and he heard a voice close to him. '"Why couldn't you just mind your own business?" He didn't know why, but Jack found the softly beautiful voice mimicking his own thoughts incredibly funny right then. He chuckled to himself as the darkness claimed him and he passed out. ***** Jack felt himself floating on his back near the surface of a sea of dark clouds. Well, felt was the wrong word, he couldn't feel anything. It was as if his mind had totally detached from his body so he could no longer feel anything at all, but at the same time he sensed the vast rolling blackness beneath him. Far above him, too far, was a bright light. No, it was too bright. His mind shied away and he could feel himself slowly sinking into the comforting darkness. The fog that was blanketing his mind began to close in around him. Where am I? The thought skidded across the surface of his mind and was gone in an instant. This was a dream. He didn't remember going to sleep. Strange. But with the odd sense of detachment that thought flitted away into the darkness as well. The light above him seemed to be getting brighter, coming closer. He knew that he should be in that light. That was where he belonged, but the calming blackened depths below him whispered into his mind thoughts of comfort, of peace; thoughts of oblivion. The light only promised pain and disappointment, it whispered to him. All he had to do was let go. Something else was stirring in his mind as well. The primal part of his mind was reacting to something and through the peaceful void Jack could feel a very unwelcome sense of fear building. He knew somehow that the fear had nothing to do with either the blackness below him or the light above. There was something else moving near by in his dream. He knew instinctually that whatever it was, it was not out to entice him like the darkness, or draw him in like the light. It was hunting him, and if he was caught he would be destroyed. This was a dream, and it wasn't turning out to be a very good one. Jack's mind tried to pull away from it. In the past he had always had the ability to wake himself and pull out of a dream, consciously, as long as he recognized he was dreaming. He didn't know if everyone could do that, but long practice with the nightmares that had plagued him growing up with his step-father had made him very good at it. This time however, it felt as if there was a wall there. No matter how he tried to wake, he could not break through. The only way out was to make a choice. Jack didn't know how he knew that, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was true. Up or down. Continue sinking into the darkness and find the peace that was offered or climb out into the light. The light was fading again as the fog crowded in around him. It would be so easy to just let go. All he had to do was release the tenuous hold he had on the light above him and it would be over. No more worries, no more pain, just a soft blanket of darkness. It would be so easy, and in the end that is what decided him. Never in his life had he taken the easy road. The light was where he belonged and that was where he wanted to be. Pulling his scattered thoughts and will together, Jack strained upwards. The light was so far away and he could barely feel the pull from it. Suddenly the darkness below him changed. No longer was it coaxing and enticing; now it became a pit of black tar, threatening to suffocate him. It struggled against him, fighting to pull him back down into its inky depths. The fog that had covered his mind clung to him and he felt the pull increase, dragging him deeper and farther away from the light. Just when he thought that all hope was lost, the light far above him flared. As Jack watched through his mind, a single ray of light pierced down into the rolling black fog towards him. He could feel the darkness around him shudder as if it had been physically struck. Summoning what was left of his will, he reached out and took hold of the shaft of light, his mind desperately grasping onto it like a rope thrown to a drowning man at sea. When he did, he felt himself begin to rise out of the depths, the tar peeling away from his mind as he did. Slowly and painfully, he was pulled ever higher, up towards the light. The fog that had covered his mind began to clear and at once Jack wished it wouldn't, because as it did his mind seemed to reconnect to his body. The feeling returned and it was not pleasant. The first thing he felt was the searing fire that burned across his chest. He gasped for breath as he the pain increased. It felt like a thousand red hot pokers were trying to find there way through his chest to his heart, the throbbing pain radiating out and down his limbs. Through the pain though, he felt a small hand touch his forehead and a cooling sensation spread out from the palm and washed over his body. He instantly felt the pain in chest ebb to the point that he could breathe again. He still felt it pulsing through him, but it was muted by the cooling touch. "He's waking up." Jack heard a woman's voice say. It seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "I'm impressed;" another, slightly more girlish sounding voice that he also felt he should know said "He's a lot stronger than he looks." "Yes, his will seems amazingly strong for his kind," the first voice said. "But, it will take more than his own willpower if he is to survive the night." "Oooo, I can help with that part," something in the voice gave Jack the impression she was grinning from ear to ear. "No!" the first voice said, sternly, then softening "I think not. Not yet, at least." "Psh, your no fun" the first voice pouted. "I guarantee he wouldn't mind. None of my boys has ever had cause to complain." "No doubt," the woman replied, lacing in with just a hint of sarcasm. "But a mistake has been made. He should have never been here," she paused. "And until I know his part, as long as he survives, he remains free. There is too much at stake to risk our hand now. He may have nothing to do with Jacob, or the Elected, but until I know what is going on, he's off limits. Got it?" "All right," the girl responded, a bit reluctantly it seemed to Jack. But then she asked hopefully "But after that? "We'll see." Jack meanwhile had been lying still throughout the exchange trying to collect his thoughts. The voices had him totally confused. What the hell are they talking about? Try as he might, nothing was making sense to him. His eyes remained closed, but he was sure that he should know the women that had been speaking, from where he wasn't sure though. He felt a quiet buzzing sensation in the back of his mind. That seemed important somehow, and he knew should pay attention, but all he could concentrate on were the opposing hot and cold sensations coming from his chest and his forehead. He tried to open his eyes and sit up, but it felt like tiny weights were holding down his eyelids and when he tried to move, he found that his body would not respond to him. He tried harder, his heart beginning to race a little. Nothing. Jack wasn't sure why, probably some long forgotten childhood trauma, but even though he was not really claustrophobic or anything, the idea of not being able to move scared the shit out of him. His heart began to beat faster and he was sure he was sweating. "Easy, easy," the woman's voice whispered to him as the hand on his forehead started to stroke his face gently. This time, instead of being far away, her voice seemed to come from right next to his ear. "You mustn't move, so you can save your strength." His heart began to calm as her hand stroked his brow. The cooling sensation spread farther through his body as her hand moved and he began to feel other things as the pain lessened. The barest hint of lilacs filled his nostrils, pleasant, not too overwhelming. He could tell that he was lying in a bed, probably the softest bed he had ever been in, and against his bare skin he could feel the soft caress of what felt like satin sheets. It was only then that he realized that he was completely naked. A small part of his brain registered the fact that he should be embarrassed, but all he could focus on was the silky touch of her hands as they moved down his neck and brushed lightly over his chest. The fiery pain in his chest, while still there, was pushed to the back of his mind as he felt her hands roam down his body. Without benefit of any other senses, it was like that hand was the only thing in the world. He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt her fingers wrap gently around his cock. Her touch was electric and he instantly sprang to life, feeling himself grow large in her grasp. Slowly, she began to stroke up and down the length of his shaft. What the... His hips instinctually tried to arch up to meet her caress, but he remained frozen, his body still not responding to his commands, though it was responding just fine to her ministrations. And though he longed to open his eyes and see what was happening, they remained stubbornly shut. Without any warning, Jack felt a tongue lightly circle around his balls. The unexpected sensation almost caused him to loose control completely. He felt his cock jump in her hand, which hadn't stopped moving up and down his length as he felt her draw first one ball and then the other into her ungodly warm mouth, suckling lightly on each in turn. The sensations that were shooting through his body were like electricity strait to his brain. It had been so long since he had been touched by anything but his own hand that he knew there was now way he could last long at this rate. "Not quite yet," he heard her murmur. He felt her hand move to the base of his cock and squeeze him. She held him there, her tongue still lightly circling first one ball then the other, until he could feel his climax recede. "Better," she said, and her hand released the pressure a little. He felt her tongue lightly slide from his balls, up the underside of his shaft, barely touching him as it moved all the way to the tip and began circling around his head. Her fingers then began to squeeze him gently from bottom to top, milking him while her tongue teased along his ridge. Then her tongue left him and was replaced by her lips. Ever so slowly he felt himself drawn into her warm mouth, her tongue returning to massage him as he entered her. His hips tried to buck up into her mouth again, frustrated at the pace she had set, but he could not move a muscle. She sucked about half of his length into her mouth and then reversed direction, slowly moving her lips back up him until he was almost all the way out. With that she settled into a slow and building rhythm, taking a little more of him into her mouth every time. She didn't pause when his head touch the back of her mouth, but instead she shifted positions a little and he suddenly felt the tight grip of her throat as she sucked him in all the way. He could feel her lips pressed against the base of his cock and he could hear the sounds of her slightly labored breathing coming quietly through her nose while it pressed into his stomach as she held him all the way in for a moment. Her hand moved down between his legs and started to massage his balls. Then she pulled back until again she held only his tip. With that she began to slowly increase the speed of her mouth, all the time her tongue was working furiously on the underside of him. In no time Jack's balls tightened and he knew there was no stopping it this time. She didn't try. He wanted to warn her that he was going to cum, but even if he had been able to speak at that point, it was far too late for that. His body tensed on its own and Jack felt himself explode into her waiting mouth, long spurt after spurt drained from him with a force he had never experienced before. Her lips never left his shaft as he felt her hungrily take everything he could give. It seemed like it would go on forever, but eventually his body relaxed back into the bed and he was left panting and exhausted beyond belief. She held him in her mouth as he softened, the last of his energy drained from him. He was beyond thinking at this point and her mouth felt exquisitely warm wrapped around him. After a few minutes however, when she had made no move to release his cock, he began to get a little concerned. Gradually though, he realized that the warmth radiating from her mouth seemed to be growing, becoming more of a tangible heat. It wasn't the heat of a fire, like the pain in his chest, but it was becoming just as intense. All of the sudden that heat flowed out from her mouth and flooded over him. His entire body was consumed by the pleasurable fire and the searing pain that had been in his chest was washed away in an instant. She released him and at once he felt exhaustion sweep over his mind and body. The heat of her mouth remained in his body, but it had died back down to pleasant warmth and he felt himself falling into a deep sleep. As the comforting darkness claimed him, he heard the voices again. "Did it work?" the girl asked. "The damage to his body is repaired, I think, as for the rest well; only time will tell." ***** This is my first attempt at actual writing. Please, tear me up. All feedback is appreciated, and if you like it, say so: vote. The Witching Hour Ch. 02 Once again all praise is due unto the beautiful goddess of the written word, AMY_Monaco, for the amazing editing. -Things start to get strange for Jack, and we find hidden dangers even in the best of friends. ***** Jack opened his eyes as the bright morning sunlight came in his window. For a moment, as he stared up at the ceiling, he wasn't sure where he was. Oh, right, he thought, his new apartment. Man he hated moving all the damn time. He promised himself that someday soon he was going to settle down in one place and never move again. He was so sick of waking up to unfamiliar ceilings. The air mattress beneath him squeaked a little when he stretched his sore muscles. Sleeping on the thing always gave him a backache. Man, he must have been wrecked last night, because he couldn't even remember setting it up. The first thing I'm going to do today is make sure that new bed is delivered on time, Jack thought, cant take too much of this anymore. Well, he corrected himself as he rolled off the mattress and headed to the bathroom, not the first thing. He left the door open while he finished his morning business. Ah, the joys of being single. Flushing, he moved to the sink, washed his hands and then took a handful of cold water and scrubbed his face with it to get the sleep out of his eyes. When he finished wiping the water off of his face he glanced up at the mirror and froze. Across his bare chest, five smooth pink scars he had never seen before ran evenly spaced all the way from his stomach to his left shoulder. What the fuck! Scars he was used to. Jack had a few well placed ones on various parts of his body. Mementos of times when he had let his judgment lapsed a little or hadn't been quite fast enough. One particularly good one even, on his hip where they had dug out a nice sized chunk of shrapnel. He bore them with pride, but most of the time he at the very least remembered what had caused them. Suddenly the pieces of his memory started to fill in and he remembered something to do with the neighbors. It was still kind of fuzzy but he remembered the fight with the neighbor girl's boyfriend. The guy had pulled a knife. Well, he thought not a knife. Judging by the scars on his chest, it almost looked like the guy and scratched him. That wasn't the weirdest part though. The weirdest part was that they didn't look like they had happened barely a day ago. No, instead of the raw, jagged red marks that he would expect, he saw only the smooth pink of new skin. That sort of healing would take weeks, if not more than a month, judging by their size. More worried than he had been before, Jack wondered how the hell he had gotten back into his apartment. He didn't remember anything after the big guy had hit him. He must have been knocked cold. Someone had moved his unconscious body into his apartment and set up his bed for him. Not only that, but he was in nothing but his boxers, so someone had to have undressed him. But who would have done that? He was really starting to freak out now. Surely not Mongo, hell he was surprised that the guy hadn't stomped his head in when he was down at the end. Maybe it had been the girlfriend? Jack guessed that it was possible. He chuckled to himself at the thought. Great Jack, the only time you can get a girl into your apartment and undressing you is when her boyfriend has just beaten the shit out of you. If it had been the girlfriend, Jack wondered what could have happened to Mongo. Who cares, he thought viciously. The guy had been so cracked out he probably didn't know what the hell he was doing and ran off. Jack shook his head violently and splashed more water over his face. This was way too weird and his brain could not deal with the implications right now. His body was sore all over from the beating and he suddenly noticed a small buzzing in the back of his head that couldn't bode well at all. He remembered hitting his head pretty hard. The whole situation by itself was almost enough to make him want to reconsider owning a gun. Though he was thoroughly familiar with quite a few types of weapons, and actually fairly proficient with all of them, Jack had never really wanted to own one himself. The army tended to make you either become a gun nut or it made you totally ambivalent to them. He fell into the latter category. As he felt himself begin to relax the buzzing in the back of his head decreased. You're worrying too much. Jack thought to himself. He would just have to be a hell of a lot more careful in the future, he decided. And start minding your own freaking business; he finished in his head with a laugh. This was starting to become a mantra for him. Rubbing his hand over his face, Jack looked back into the mirror. He was feeling a lot better. Maybe he had skated on this one. He was sure that if the girlfriend had called the cops or reported his little fight with Mongo to the apartments, he would have been woken up quite a bit sooner and, less then politely, asked to move on. The scars on his chest didn't really look that bad now that he thought about it. He must have just been mistaken. The guy had probably just scratched him a little, and that's why they had healed already. Yeah, he knew that logic was a little thin, but he really wasn't in the mood to delve any deeper into this mystery. He had seen enough in his life to know that sometimes weird shit just happened. Who was he to question it? Right now he was just happy to be in one piece. Looking back in the mirror he ran his hand over his face again and felt the day old growth of stubble on his chin. He had considered just letting it grow now that he was out, but six years of daily habits were hard to break. Maybe someday, he thought. Well anyway, before he did anything with his face the rest of his body needed some definite attention. He smelled like sweat and something else that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't at all that unpleasant, almost like flowers. Lilacs? Shrugging his shoulders at his reflection in the mirror Jack stepped back out into the living room just long enough to grab his bag of shower stuff and jumped back into the little stall in the corner of the bathroom. One of the strange things he had noticed when he started moving in yesterday was that there was no tub in the bathroom, just a shower stall. Not that it really fazed him, he wasn't really one for soaking, but he was sure that if Kelly was still here she would be freaking out. As he finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned around, letting the almost too hot water run down over his sore muscles, he wondered idly if his was the only apartment like this, or if they were all different. God the heat of the water felt good. Maybe he should reconsider his position on tub soaking. To soon though, the shower began to loose its comfortable heat, so he shut it off. He didn't want to ruin the work it had done for his back. Something in the back of his mind began to assert itself again as Jack went about his usual morning rituals. Now that the buzzing that had occupied his mind earlier had departed, he found himself growing concerned once again. Not in the same way as before; for some reason he felt an almost unnatural peace in regards to the new additions to his scar collection and his foggy memory. Actually, that was what was bothering him. By nature, Jack didn't consider himself a care-free spirit. While he was not one of those people who would obsess about things to the point that it interfered with their life, he wasn't usually given to just rolling over and accepting any odd thing that came his way. At least, that is, without taking it and analyzing it from a dozen different directions to find at least one solution that would help him understand. It was the sort of mind-set that had made him hugely successful in the military intelligence field. So why was it that he was so calmly accepting the strange things that were happening to him now? Finishing his shave, Jack rinsed his face off and walked out into the bedroom. As he walked he felt the warm air from the apartment circulating around his bare skin. Whatever had happened yesterday, he had obviously forgotten to turn on the air conditioner and while the numbers on his little Timex digital watch told him it was only about 9:30, the temperature inside his tiny apartment was starting to climb with the heat of the mid-summer's day. Jack went to the boxes still neatly stacked in the corner of the room and donned a fresh pair of underwear and set of his favorite lounging pants; he could do without a shirt for now. He considered flipping on the AC, but it was still pretty early and he did need to save some money. Instead he moved to the large sliding glass doors that led off of his bedroom to the small private balcony that each of the apartments had. Since he hadn't had the chance to check it out yesterday before everything had kicked off, Jack unlatched the bolt, slid the door back and stepped outside, leave the main glass door open and only shutting the screen mesh door behind him. What greeted him was a tiny, but fairly clean balcony with a concrete floor and a wrought iron railing running along the front. Probably less for the aesthetic appeal, he was sure, than to protect the apartments tenant's from their own stupidity. Right in the center of the balcony were two chairs and a small outdoor table, all of which were fairly clean and in good repair; most likely left by the previous occupants when they moved out. You found that a lot when you lived in apartments, people left behind a good bit of stuff that they either didn't need or didn't want anymore. Landlords usually either through it out - at a hefty charge to the renters deposit, of course - or they just left it for the new tenants to find and decide what to do with. Not exactly the greatest view, he thought lightly. Out of the front of the balcony Jack found himself staring at the matte off-white siding of the wall to the next apartment building across the small courtyard that they had been built around. All of the balconies on this floor had been offset to give some semblance of privacy. Nice. Walking out to the railing, Jack took a look around. The third floor was the top level of this building, so he had a fairly unobstructed view of the way everything was laid out if he looked to the left. The community itself was made up of about five different buildings like his, with only two apartments per floor, all arranged around a small, man-made lake in the center of the complex. To his right, his view was obstructed by a line of thick trees, through which he could barely see a tall stone wall. This was one of the reasons he had been attracted back to Georgia after he had left the military. Even though this was a fairly cheap apartment and it was completely within the limits of a good size city, Jack still got the feeling of being in nature. Hell, even though he knew that just on the other side of that wall traffic blared and hustled by at its normal breakneck pace, from this spot he would never know it. In fact the only thing that broke the morning calm was the slightly too loud music coming from one of his neighbors. Jack frowned, his thought process interrupted by the heavy metal music he had just noticed, and he scanned the buildings to see if he could pinpoint the disturbance. He couldn't quite tell where it was coming from. When he looked directly down though, he stopped, his jaw falling open and he couldn't help but stare. Stretched out on a reclining pool chair near the front of the patio across from his on the next floor down was the girl he had met at the vending machine yesterday. What made him stop in shock and stare was what she was wearing, or rather, what she wasn't wearing. Lying on her back in the morning sunlight, Britt was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny sunglasses and an even tinier pair of thong underwear. Jack almost ducked back into his patio, but then he realized from the angle her head was at that she wasn't looking at him. Instead her head sort of lulled to the side as if she was taking a nap. Her luxurious raven hair was spread out around her head. He could see now why he hadn't noticed any tan lines on her olive skin during the quick peeks he had received yesterday. He began to feel a voyeuristic excitement spreading through him, so he moved to the edge of the patio where he would be less likely to be spotted and continued to watch. Her ample breast stood out away from her body, falling only slightly to the sides, seemingly in defiance of gravity. That probably meant they were fake, but that fact really didn't faze Jack. Personally he preferred getting his hands on the real thing as opposed to silicone, but when he was just looking, there wasn't much of a difference. They were, just barely, a little too big for his taste, probably running a large c-cup or even a small d. His cock, however, which was beginning to stir and tent the front of his pants outward, didn't find much of a problem with that. The girl's legs were slightly spread and Jack's eyes traveled down her body to the point where they met. Even at this height, he could tell from the way sunlight revealed the coppery glow of her skin that the panties she was wearing were made of some sort of mesh material. From underneath the slightly see-through cloth Jack could make out a very small vertical line of black hair on top of her mound. Obviously, she must have kept the rest shaved bare. The volume of the music that he had just realized was coming from her apartment briefly got louder as the sliding glass door that Jack couldn't see from his angle opened. Immediately it closed again and muted the sound. From the doorway a man walked into Jack's view carrying a tray with a single glass of what looked like some kind of iced tea. Jack was shocked. The man was almost completely naked except for a very brief leather thong. His body had the perfect lean muscle tone and broad shoulders of a gymnast, without an ounce of fat on him. Or maybe a swimmer, Jack thought, because it was also obvious that either he had shaved his entire body, or he was naturally hairless. Like Britt, the man's skin held a deep coppery glow, and seemed to shine in the sunlight. The thing that shocked Jack the most though, was the thick black blind-fold that wrapped around the man's head, completely covering his eyes. With almost feminine grace, Jack watched the man bend at the waist and unerringly place the try on the table next to her chair, then fluidly sink to his knees next to Britt. His head lowered as if in reverence, the man waited, not saying a word. Jack watched in utter fascination as the man kept totally still, not moving a muscle, as the moments stretched away. Britt seemed not to notice that he was even there, though Jack had seen her shift her body a little when the door had opened, so it was obvious that she was aware of his presence. Eventually though, Jack saw her turn her head in the man's direction and raise her arms up over her head, stretching languidly. Her fluid movements making him think of a cat, waking up from a mid-day nap. As she did, her breasts arched forward into the air, seeming to strain upwards towards him. Jack suddenly wished he were not so far away, the longing to take hold of the orbs and caress them was almost overwhelming. As she relaxed, Jack watched her hand come back down and run lightly over the hairless mans chest, trailing slowly down his wash-board abs. The man didn't move, but Jack could make out his muscles tensing as her fingers wrapped around his massive bulge. Getting a good grip, she pulled him up and towards her by the groin. He rose smoothly and moved closer to her side. Using her other hand Britt reached up and pulled the man's smooth shaven head down to her breast, his lips immediately wrapping around one of her pencil-eraser like nipples. Releasing his head, Britt grabbed the man's right hand and drew it down between her legs, where he immediately began to softly massage her pussy lips through her flimsy panties. Jack could only imagine what her other hand was doing, with the man's body now blocking his view, but he could see his hips flexing rhythmically toward her. After a few minutes of this, Britt lifted her hips off of the chair slightly. The man obviously took the hint, because he immediately hooked his fingers around the tiny bit of cloth and slid her panties down her toned legs. Jack's cock strained against his pants painfully, begging for release, as he saw the dainty slit between her legs revealed, the sun glinting off of the juices that covered it. This was so hot; he reached down and began to stroke himself through the fabric. With her panties removed, Britt stood and drew the man to his feet to join her. Reaching down to his waist, she found some kind of pull tab and gave it a yank. Immediately the thin strap that had held his thong together fell away. Jacks eyes bugged out of his head. Holy shit! Jack had never been in any way ashamed of the size of his own package. He knew he wasn't huge, but he was comfortably on the plus side of average, and had never heard any complaints. The monster that he watched spring into view, however, was nothing short of circus huge. It had to be at the very least ten full inches, if not more, and it had the girth to more than match it. Britt's tiny hands only made it seem more obscenely large as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around it. Leading him, still blindfolded, by his massive cock Britt turned the man around and sat him down on the long chair with his back leaning up against the wrought iron railing. She left him suddenly and moved out of Jacks sight to the back of the balcony, returning a few seconds later with two long black strips of silky cloth dangling from her hands. Jack watched, fascinated, as she stretched out first one muscled arm and then the other, tying each securely to the railing. Her deft movements told him that she was very familiar with this game. Though it wasn't really his thing, Jack had on occasion played around a little with some light bondage and submission. Not, of course, with Kelly. She would have never gone in for that sort of thing. She had always, in Jacks opinion, been a little too restrained in bed; preferring nothing more than standard missionary position sex. Only rarely pushing it any farther, and never without Jack's insistence. A few previous girlfriends had been willing to experiment. Though, if there was going to be a little spank and tickle, Jack usually preferred to be on top, as it were. Different strokes for different folks, Jack thought. It was amazing though, to watch this tiny, pixy-like girl play dominant to the big, muscle bound man's submissive. Jack could definitely see the appeal. Having one of your senses taken away by the blindfold, and being totally unable to control the actions happening to you; it had to be hugely erotic. Some foggy memory in the back of his mind stirred at that, but as he tried to pin it down, it slipped away again. Having finished with the straps, Britt threw her leg over the big man's lap and slowly began to run the tip of his cock up and down over the waiting opening to her pussy. The glistening wetness that came from her ready hole coated his straining head. From where Jack was standing he had a perfect view down between them, and he wondered suddenly how in the world this petite little girl was going to fit that thing inside her. But, once she was satisfied that it was properly lubed, Britt bent her legs and Jack watched as the head of mans vast cock disappeared inside of her. The Witching Hour Ch. 02 Her arms held out in front of her, squeezing her abundant breasts hard together between them, she locked her hands behind the mans neck for support and flung her head backwards, a look of ecstasy washing over her face. For a moment Jack was sure that he had been right and that it would prove to be much too big for her, but, after only a brief pause she slowly and tortuously began lowering herself down until finally she had taken him all the way in and was resting on his lap. She held herself perfectly still, her head rolling around on her shoulders in pure pleasure. Then abruptly Jack stopped breathing in horror. Her head had stopped and for a moment, even though he couldn't see her eyes through the dark sunglasses, it looked like she was staring directly up at him. From this distance, he imagined he saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly. Even though he thought that he had been at least partially hidden in the shadowy corner of his balcony, he was suddenly convinced that she knew he was there, watching her. But then the moment past, and he watched as her head dropped forward and she began to slowly pull herself back up the colossal shaft. Jack had to have imagined the whole thing. He could see her body shaking in pleasure as she tortuously inched her way up and down on it, the man straining hard against his bonds. She would have stopped if she had seen him standing there. Wouldn't she? Jack was snapped hard back into reality as he heard a loud knock coming from the front door of his apartment. He felt his heart skip a beat and jumped back from the rail guiltily. He was breathing pretty hard and his heart was pounding in his chest. Crap! Of all the lousy... He turned reluctantly, not really wanting to miss the show going on below, but his mind was suddenly and forcibly dragged back to the incident yesterday. He might have been a little hasty in thinking he had gotten away with it clean. In his head he could see the police uniforms on the other side of the door already; or maybe an irate Mrs. Munion with a set of hastily drawn eviction papers. He wasn't sure which would be worse. Just the thought of the tongue lashing he would receive from her was enough for him to instantly loose the erection that had been straining him the entire time. Hurrying through his apartment he grabbed a shirt from one of the boxes on the way by. He had seen too many episodes of Cops on TV to want to be that white guy they always ended up dragging out of his house with no shirt or shoes on. The knock on the front door came again as he was pulling the t-shirt over his head. Well, he thought as he headed for the door, still no shoes, but it's better than nothing. Thinking desperately of who else could possibly be knocking on his door at this time in the morning, Jack found himself thinking about the big guy that had beaten the shit out of him yesterday. He wasn't sure Mongo would be the type to knock politely, but instead of taking any chances Jack leaned in towards the door and looked through the peep-hole. Immediately he pulled his head back, a confused look on his face. There was a guy in uniform out there, just not the uniform he had been expecting. Waiting on the other side of the door with a bored expression on his face was a man dressed in a dark brown pair of shorts and a matching button up short sleeve shirt with the UPS insignia stenciled on the right breast. He stood outside, idly spinning a small brown package between his hands by the corners. What the hell... Jack thought to himself, confused. He had no idea who would be sending him something. He had no real family to speak of, none that he had spoken to in over six years now anyway, and he hadn't told his ex-wife or any of his buddies from the army where he was going when he left. The only one who knew where he was, in fact, the US Army, and anything that came from them either came Certified Mail from the Post Office or hand carried by someone with enough authority to drag you back to duty if they decided they needed you. The army was way too cheap to spring for UPS rates. Shaking his head, Jack realized he was just standing there with his hand on the door knob so he quickly turned it, opening the door. He was too late though. He could here the sound of footsteps hurrying down the stairs, and they were gone before he knew it. Obviously the delivery guy had better things to do with his time then wait for Jack to figure out what was going on. At his feet Jack saw the brown wrapped package leaning on end up against his door jamb. He reached down and picked it up. There was writing on the outside of the paper covered box, but it was written in some language that Jack wasn't familiar with. Maybe Arabic, it had the same type of flowing script that he had seen many times before, but it didn't quite match up. Luckily for Jack, no mail carriers relied on what their customers write by hand on the box anymore. In this age of computers, the sender was always required to enter the address in electronically, saving the delivery guys from having to decipher someone's illegible handwriting. He found the label stuck to the bottom of the package and one look instantly cleared up the mystery. Printed in the address slot was the name Jennifer McCoy. The address below it was for apartment 301. The guy had delivered to the wrong apartment. Technology can only help us so much, he guessed. As he looked up at the doorway across the hall, Jack cringed a little. Great, he though. He still wasn't exactly sure what had happened yesterday, let alone how he was going to deal with it. That would be a great conversation. Hi, remember me. I'm the guy your boyfriend pummeled unconscious yesterday. Here's your mail. And what if Mongo answered the door; things could ugly again, quick. Briefly he considered just sliding it across the landing to her door, but whole nice-guy conscience thing he could never seem to get rid of got in the way. UPS policy protected the delivery guy if anything happened after he dropped off the package, so he was free to just leave it and forget about it. Jack couldn't help but think about what could happen if it was left alone though. He guessed that, if their positions were reversed he would hope she would at least make the attempt to get it to him. The possibility that she had helped him yesterday also crossed his mind. If she had, in a way, he owed it to her to at least do this. Maybe he could get some answers to all the questions that were rolling around in his head. Besides, he had never really caught a glimpse of her yesterday with the mountain on legs standing in the way, but he remembered her sultry voice and couldn't help but wonder if she was as sexy as she sounded. God, he admonished himself, you are such a sucker. His mind decided, Jack stepped out from his doorway and crossed the landing. Quickly knocking before he could loose his nerve, he stepped back and tried to keep his shoulders from tensing up. As he waited his reasoning for doing this were starting to seem pretty slim. Why do you always have to be some girls' knight in shining armor? He asked himself. Try as he might, he couldn't think of an answer to that one. From inside the apartment he thought he heard a small crash and a voice, but he wasn't sure. The tension in his body was starting to build and he couldn't help but think of Mongo opening the door. It wasn't that he was afraid of the guy; at least, not really. Jack had taken more than a few good beatings before, and had dealt them out when he thought it was necessary. Overall he considered himself in the plus column on that, but there was something about the huge man. He had been so inhumanly fast, and strong… Jack knocked again, a little loader this time. He still could barely hear what he thought were the sound of voices coming from inside, but after a few moments when no one answered the door he gave up. Ah, screw this. She'd probably just left the TV on or something. No one was home. Hell, it was ten o'clock on a Monday morning; most people would be at work. Turning around and heading back to his apartment, he again briefly considered just leaving the box outside, but instead he took it in with him and set it on the island counter that divided his kitchen from his living room. He would try again a little later. Remembering suddenly what was happening outside, Jack hurried back out to his balcony but, to his disappointment, the two had obviously decided to take it back inside. The glass of tea was still sitting on the table next to the pool chair, collecting beads of sweat, and two pieces of black cloth lay on the chair. Damn, he swore to himself, left feeling more than a little frustrated and still very horny. Jack was just walking back inside when another knock came on his door. What now? He walked back over and flung open the door, maybe a little too violently, judging by the obvious, wide eyed surprise on the face of the man standing outside. "J-Johnson Delivery" the man stuttered out. "Huh?" Jack said feeling confused again. This was becoming a very bad habit. "You Jack Gardener?" the man asked, looking down at the clipboard he was holding. "Ordered the full furniture set?" "Oh," Jack paused, looking a little sheepish. "Yeah. Sorry, weird morning." The man just laughed. "Tell me about it. Where do you want the stuff?" Jack let out a sigh as he opened the door wider and let the guy in to show him. ***** The knock on Jennifer's door sounded incredibly loud in the silence of her apartment. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately winced as the tiny amount of light coming from around her curtains seemed to lance into her head. She hadn't really been sleeping. The searing fire that felt like it was running through her body as if there were molten lava in her veins, instead of blood had seen to that. She had been trying desperately to find some kind of shelter from the pain that wracked her body by practicing the meditation rituals she had been taught as a child. Her concentration was shattered now though; thanks to whoever had decided to bang on her door like the freaking Gestapo. Groaning, she raised her body up to a seated position and buried her face in her hands. Gods, it couldn't have been this bad the last time. She immediately forced that thought away. That was something she didn't need to think about right now. It had been worse then though, and she knew it. While the Backlash was coursing through her body with a vengeance, literally, the return she had gotten from healing that idiot was tempering it a little at least. Jennifer knew that she had to at least see who it was, if only to have an excuse prepared later. If anyone knew the state she was in, and more importantly why, the Coven would never forgive her. Winning their trust back had been a close thing the first time. Now, she wasn't sure if it could even be possible. On the nightstand, Jennifer saw her mother's old charm bracelet, and picked it up. It always gave off a comforting warmth from the magic inside. Feeling her pain lessen noticeably, she wondered vaguely what her mother would be doing in this situation. Probably wouldn't have to lay here whining, that's for sure. She thought bitterly. How do I get myself into these things? She asked no one in particular as she struggled to get to her feet. Immediately pain knotted her stomach and her head began to swim. She sat back down with a plop, her hand catching on the nightstand and sent her alarm clock crashing to the floor. The charm bracelet fell away somewhere out of sight. Damn it! She cursed, and then projected her thoughts outward. Britt! Nothing happened, so she tried again. Britt, damn it. Get in here. The room around her remained still and quiet, with only the faint light from behind her curtains wavering as the breeze from her AC unit caused them to shift. "We'll see about that," she muttered to herself and began to chant softly, wringing the words from somewhere deep within her pained skull. "Nastika, turos, alin tekala…" She cut off immediately as a faintly glowing spiral of smoke appeared in the center of the room. It seemed to drop in from the ceiling and settle just above the floor. From within the cloud, a light pulsed once and suddenly Britt was kneeling on the floor where the smoke had been, her nude body faintly glowing against the darkness of the room. "Dang, Jenny, there's no need for all that," Britt whined, looking up at Jennifer, slightly out of breath and with a big smile on her face. "I was coming." Jennifer arched an eyebrow, and gave Britt a glare at that. She didn't miss the slightly different emphasis that Britt had put on the last word, or the fact that even through the soft glow, her skin looked flushed. "I'm sure," Jennifer said acidly. "Just not in the way I asked." "Oooo, harsh; someone's havin' a bad morning," Britt giggled. "Okay, Mistress, what's got your panties all in a twist today?" Jennifer winced as whoever it was knocked on the door again. It was louder this time, but at least she was prepared for it. Still the pain swept through her, causing her to inhale sharply. Slowly she let the breath out in a moan. "See who it is," she said, her voice softer this time. "Please." Britt bounced to her feet, causing her breasts to jump up and down, and put her fists on her hips. "You mean to tell me you summoned me, from the best sex of my life, to answer the door for you?" she asked in mock indignation. "I said please," Jennifer reminded her, a smile forming on her lips. "Besides, every time you have sex is the best sex of your life." Britt giggled girlishly "True. What can I say; it's not just a job, it's an adventure." She gave Jennifer a knowing wink. When all she got back was a stare, Britt rolled her eyes. "All right," she huffed. "Fine." With that she closed her eyes and a look of mild concentration came over her face. She was perfectly still for a moment and then her eyes popped open, a mischievous grin forming on her face. "Oooo, it's your hero man." Britt laughed. "Should I let him in? Judging by what I've seen, he'd be more than happy to give a go at making you feel a little better." "No," Jennifer said, letting out a long sigh. Thinking about him, she could help but feel an odd flutter of pleasure, remembering the way he had felt; the way he had tasted. "He's an issue that can wait until I'm recovered." She flushed a little as she looked up at Britt, "Besides, what do you mean 'from what you've seen'? I thought I told you hands off with him." "Don't worry, Mistress," Britt said, "I haven't laid a finger on you little lover boy, he's still all yours, but I have kept an eye on him. Good thing too. You don't know the work I had to put in to keep him from freakin' this morning when he saw the scar you left from where that marak got him. You humans can be so flighty when things don't go the way you expect." The "lover boy" comment earned Britt a tongue stuck out at her, but it didn't last. Jennifer frowned and her face dropped. It wasn't from pain this time though, at least not the physical kind. She had messed up on the healing ritual. It should have healed him fully, without a trace, but she had not been strong enough. Tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes. If her mother had been here… Britt saw the way that Jennifer's thoughts were running and slipped down onto the bed with her, snaking an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "Ah, little mistress, don't cry," Britt whispered against her soft skin, her luscious lips brushing lightly against Jennifer's brow. "Your mother would find nothing but pride in what you are today." Jennifer found her self giving in to temptation. She had been so lonely for so long. She pressed her face into Britt's neck and let her tears flow. "I don't know if I have the strength for what's coming." She sobbed. "Oh, don't worry about your power, sweetling;" Britt murmured into Jennifer's silky auburn hair, "It will come with time." She ran her hands up and down Jennifer's back slowly, sending little tingles along her spine. "Already you hold more power than most witches will there entire life, and you have yet to come to you Fullness. A lesser witch would be consumed by the Backlash from the spell you used to destroy that marak," she smiled, "But you have used it twice and are still alive. You'll get through your pain. Pain is a part of life, even as the High Priestess of Fire, you are not allowed to bypass the Rule of Three." As she spoke, Jennifer listened and, gradually, she could feel her tears begin to ebb. Britt's voice was hypnotic, and she could feel herself swaying to the rhythm of her words. Slowly she felt the pain that had gripped her lessen until her mind was filled only with the sound of Britt's voice and the feel of the girl's naked body wrapped gently around her own. The almost spicy and exotic sent of her skin filled her nostrils and clouded her mind. The touch of her hands was shooting bursts of sensual pleasure through her body and she was having a hard time concentrating. Britt was still talking and Jennifer tried to focus on what she was saying. "…will make you stronger." She was saying, in her melodic voice. "You will make it through the pain, but you do not have to do it alone; I can help you." Britt gently ran her fingertips down Jennifer's face and drew her chin up until she was looking directly into the girls eyes, inches away from her face. "Let me help you," she whispered. And with that she brought her lips down to Jennifer's and kissed her, her lips parting as she did. Jennifer was lost. With a sigh she opened her lips and invited the girls tongue into her mouth. As she did, Britt went to work with the single most passionate kiss that Jennifer had ever experienced. Together they lay back on the soft bed. Jennifer felt Britt's hands leave her face and begin to move down her body, seductively exploring every inch of her as they went. She gasped with pleasure as one of them found first one nipple and then the other, gently rolling one at a time between her thumb and forefinger. Then they would release her nipples and slowly circle them, barely grazing her sensitive skin for long, tortuous moments. Jennifer arched her back and swelled her chest to try and get to the sensation, but it was no use. Britt would only move her hand with the swelling and maintain the tenuous contact until Jennifer was ready to beg, then she would begin to work on the nipple again, causing Jennifer to moan into her mouth. One of Britt's hands finally left her breast and began to wander lower, taking a winding route over her stomach and hips. Jennifer tensed and arched her hips as she felt the fingertips brush lightly over her mound and graze her pussy lips. The teasing fingertip began to make slow and lazy circles around her sex, only barely grazing her lips as it traveled up and down, circling, but never coming close enough to the jewel at the top. Britt shifted her body down and taking the neglected nipple into her mouth, she began to slowly suckle on it, using her tongue to roll it around in her mouth. Jennifer thought she would scream with desire as her hands dug uselessly into the satin sheets at her side. This was torture. Every touch, every movement was bringing her closer and closer to the edge. At last, sensing her pain, Britt drove one finger into her and, hooking it, began to rub circles around the small, rough patch of tissue on the inside. She used another to make light grazing circles around Jennifer's hooded clit. The Witching Hour Ch. 02 The effect was like lightning. The electric wave of her orgasm crashed into her, causing her body to arch almost painfully off of the mattress. Feeling the walls of Jennifer's pussy slam down on her fingers, Britt stayed with her as she thrashed through wave after wave of ecstasy, all the while keeping her fingers circling; she rode out the storm of pleasure. Jennifer came back down off of her climax in a haze. The power of her orgasm had surprised her; no other lover had ever caused that kind of feeling from her body. As the red haze began to fade from her senses she realized that Britt was no longer at her breast. Looking down she saw the girl kneeling between her legs and she watched in fascination as Britt began to run her tongue around her pussy, cleaning off every bit of the fluids that had been spent when Jennifer came on her fingers. The sensitive folds of her pussy lips rebelled at first to this new assault, but soon she began to feel the heat rising inside of her once again. Her head lay back on the bed and she allowed herself to focus on the magic that Britt's tongue was performing down there. As soon as she finished lapping up the outside, Britt moved quickly into the center. She ran her tongue up and down the swollen lips, as if trying to explore every nook and cranny. Every few passes, she would move to the top and circle her tongue around the sensitive bud. Never too hard, and never too soft, Britt seemed to understand the exact way that Jennifer needed to be touched. All too soon Jennifer felt Britt's tongue dove deeply inside of her. It began to move around in ways that she had never felt before. Then it was back to her clit, circling as she used her lips to suck and nibble on the tiny nub. Then it was back inside of her and moving again. In and out, in and out, her tongue began to move so fast that it seemed there were two; one reaching as deep as it could inside of her and one focusing on the touch she desperately need outside. The feeling was incredible. Sensations were flowing through her body that she had never experienced, and her body craved more. Some part of her brain was screaming at her that this was not right. This should not happen. Jennifer didn't care, all she could focus on was the pleasure, and she wanted everything else to disappear. When the tongue was inside of her it was stretching to impossible lengths. She would swear that it filled her more than any cock ever had. But the part of Jennifer's brain that was screaming at her would not shut up. There was something that she was supposed to remember, something important. She shook her head to try and clear the fog. It was impossible; Britt's tongue between her legs was still moving impossibly fast and sending waves of pleasure into her. Jennifer felt another wave of ecstasy building inside of her quickly. No, her brain screamed, not tongue; tongues. What? Then she realized; that was exactly what was happening. It didn't feel like there were two tongues, there were two tongues. That thought shocked her out of the fog her mind was wrapped in. Confused, Jennifer picked up her head and looked down at Britt. It was a mistake. When she did she looked right into Britt's eyes. They glowed from within with a deep cherry red, like dying embers stoked briefly in a fire. As soon as they locked gazes Jennifer felt herself being pulled into them. Give yourself to me, witch. Britt's voice, hard and commanding, sounded within her head. W-what the hell? She thought. Give yourself to me and I will give you power. I will stop the pain, the doubt, the loneliness. You know it is true. Only I can help you. You are alone. All you have to do is let go. Jennifer was panicking, feeling her mind slip away. She didn't know what to do. The waves of pleasure still crashed into her body and she was having trouble thinking about anything. Somehow, she knew instinctually that if they overtook her, she was lost. Her hands thrashed out on the bed, trying to find something to hold onto, something that would ground her and bring her back to reality. At once, it fell on something hard and she grabbed onto it without thinking. It was her mothers charm bracelet. When she had dropped it, it had landed on the bed and she hadn't seen it until now. She felt the warmth from it flowing into her and her mind cleared a little. It wasn't enough though. She could still feel the waves of pleasure rolling through her, so she gripped down on it, the points of the star digging deep into the flesh of her palm. With the pain, a shock of clarity ripped through her body and hit Britt like a physical force, sending her flying backwards across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening thud and crumpled beneath it. Jennifer struggled to her feet, anger replacing the pleasure that had taken over her body. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" she screamed. The crumpled mound on the floor shook violently and all of the sudden Jennifer heard laughter coming from it. As she watched the form drew itself back up and coalesced back into Britt, looking as if she had never changed. The girl stood there staring at Jennifer, a wicked smile painted on her face. "What, Mistress?" she asked innocently. "I was only trying to help." Britt's giggle sent shivers down her spine. Jennifer knew she was safe now. Now that she had the charm again and was in control of her senses and her emotions, but she had to fight to keep herself from taking a step back. At this point she could not show any weakness. She closed her eyes briefly and collected the pieces of her mind, leftovers of the fog of pleasure she had been in still clinging stubbornly to her. How could she be so stupid? Growing up with Britt, it was so easy to forget sometimes exactly what she was. She was definitely no young girl, even though she appeared no older than Jennifer's own twenty-three years. She wasn't even a witch, like Jennifer, she was something else entirely. "I definitely don't need that kind of help from you, Demon." She said, opening her eyes and lacing her words with ice. "Oh, I don't know Mistress," Britt's gaze weighed her and Jennifer wasn't sure she wanted to know one what end of the scale she had come out. "I think I almost had you this time. Maybe someday…" "Never!" Jennifer interrupted her, a fresh flood of fury washing over her. "For four hundred years you have served my family. You have tested each of us at every turn. Haven't we always taken care of you? Haven't we protected you from you own kind, who would destroy you if they got the chance? Are you always going to try to break free and turn on us at every opportunity?" Jennifer trailed off, her anger spent. There was no use. "Always." Britt said with quiet finality, her face turning deadly serious for a brief second before reverting back to her usual playful grin. "Don't get me wrong Jenny," she said, chatting like nothing had ever happened. "I have a sweet deal here, better than most. And you guys are cool to hang with. In the end though, well, I am what I am. You know that." Jennifer rubbed her thumb and forefinger in circles over her closed eyelids. She could feel the pain of the Backlash returning, worse now for the pleasure she had felt, and the time since it had gone away. "Go Britt, leave me alone. And don't come until I call on you again." "As you wish; Mistress." And with that she was gone. Stifling the tears that threatened to break free once more, Jennifer crawled back into the bed on the side that didn't still smell of her own pleasure and curled up with the pain again. She tried to sleep, but was left feeling even more frustrated and lonely than she had before. ***** Remember, I need feedback, the good the bad and even the really, really ugly. I Love It. Votes are good too. The Witching Hour Ch. 03 - Alright, I tried without an editor and you guys quickly let me know that wasn't a good idea. So thanks to Jedi_Khan for the excellent and fast editing to help me get this back up. -Okay guys, I have to tell you up front there's no actual sex in this one. SORRY, but I couldn't figure out how to add it without making it sound forced and I needed this for characters and plot. Don't worry, Chapter 4 is done and hot on this one's heels, it should be much better. ***** CH-3 Jack finished loading the last of his dishes into the cabinet that hung on the wall above the stove in his kitchen and looked around. It had taken all day yesterday, and a good bit of the morning, but finally he nodded with satisfaction at the job he had done setting up his apartment. He wasn't overly obsessive about keeping everything orderly, but he knew if he didn't get it done now, he would keep putting the job off, and never get it done. That and the mindless activity had been just what he needed to straighten out his mind, which had seemed scattered ever since he had shown up here a few days ago. Looking around, he realized that he was happy with the way everything had come together. When he had first moved in, the place had seemed so bare and uninviting, but the addition of even the fairly inexpensive furniture that he had purchased appeared to make all the difference. The soft wood tables and chairs, along with the softer suede couch that focused around the fireplace in the corner -- rather than the usual TV set, since he hadn't bought one yet -- made the place seem more like a home. He could feel a pleasant breeze circulating around the room from his air conditioner, having finally broken down and turned it on while he was setting up and moving around his new stuff. Letting his head roll back on his shoulder, he felt his neck pop a little and he let out a contented breath. Outside of his living-room window he could see through the opened slats in the blinds that it was rapidly turning into another beautiful day. The bright sunlight cast dappled shadows on the glass window pane as it passed through the leaves on the large poplar tree that was planted just beyond it. Jack felt the sudden urge to be out there, having been cooped up for quite a while. He definitely had earned a little bit of a break. Walking into his bedroom, Jack stripped off the ratty t-shirt and comfortable lounge pants he had chosen when he got up this morning and exchanged them for nice pair of shorts and a light button up shirt. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, but hey, he never knew. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops, he grabbed his keys but left his cell phone sitting on his dresser; he wouldn't need it. Heck, he didn't think he had even used it once since he had moved in, a definite sign of how his life had drastically changed. Before he had left the army, he wouldn't have been caught without it; never knowing when he would get a frantic phone call to deal with the latest crisis at work. He let out a brief sigh and headed for the front door. It would be nice to have someone not work related to talk to occasionally though. He was very aware on how much his social life had been limited by the choices he had made, and his sex life had been relegated to spying on the neighbors from the shadows of his balcony. If he didn't get himself out of this rut soon, he feared he was in danger of joining a monastery. Opening the door and stepping out, he turned and used the key to slide the dead-bolt into position. The incident on his first day aside, Jack really hadn't seen anything that suggested this was a bad area, but he figured it was better safe than sorry. As Jack went down the stairs and headed out of the front of the building he noticed a definite sense of peace that seemed to blanket the area. A quiet breeze was blowing through trees of all different types that appeared to be planted everywhere around the community. He had always been shocked by the sheer amount of color in the landscapes of Georgia. Having grown up in southern Colorado he was used to the deep, dark greens and browns of the mountain pines and the sandy grays, tans, and yellows of the high desert. After he had enlisted, the army had moved him around a lot, from one barren area of the US and the world to another. The army was more interested in secluded and unpopular areas, in order to give them plenty of elbow room for training, than it was in the scenery. Jack always found himself pleasantly assaulted by the bright greens, the rainbow assortment of flowering plants, and the luscious red-clay soil when he came here. It always gave him something he felt was missing from his life. Natural looking paths crisscrossed between the five apartment buildings. At first, Jack had been fairly annoyed by the lack of parking near the front of his apartment, which had made moving in that much more difficult, the only driveway and parking being a small loop on the outside of the buildings just this side of the stone wall. But as he looked around, he could definitely see the appeal. The soft green grass ran all the way to the edge of the small lake, broken only by the widely spaced trees and the almost unnoticed pathways that seemed to blend into, rather than divide, the area. Each apartment building had a small path leading to a bridge that spanned over the water to a small island in the center. Jack knew that his apartment was the furthest south, being all the way on the back end of the complex. To get out he would have to drive back up to the office building and pass through the large wrought iron gates that shut the community off from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city. He set out in that general direction, not really wanting to get anywhere, just enjoying the feeling of stretching his legs. Looking around as he walked, he was startled to see that he was not alone. Everywhere he looked people were strolling lazily along the paths, some in groups of two and three, while others walked by themselves. It was an odd sight, especially for a time of morning when most people usually had to be at work. As he passed them whatever conversation they had been having would stop and they would all turn to look at him. Every one of them smiled politely, some even looking a little amused, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched like a hawk. As Jack neared the lake he noticed the tiny island in the center of it. Around its edge there were five small benches, only two of which were occupied so he set out across the bridge to claim one. He was feeling the sudden need to get away; the stares of the people he had passed starting to disturb the calm sense of peace that he had felt when he started out. Stepping onto the island, Jack moved to the nearest empty bench and sat down, and took a moment to calm himself. When he felt better, he glanced around at his surroundings. Across the way he saw two young, teenage girls talking to each other in excited whispers on the far bench. Every once and a while they would glance quickly in his direction, but then immediately they would go back to their hushed, giggling conversation. Jack just rolled his eyes and glanced over at the other occupants of the benches. Sitting just to his left were two small children, a boy and a girl, probably no older than five or six. They were probably the only two people who he had met today that where totally ignoring him. They were both way too busy with the ever important task of skipping the smooth, flat stones that littered the edge of the island across the mirror-like surface of the lake. Jack had to smile. He was glad at least someone had a normal life. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The breeze on the little island was refreshing, having cooled slightly as it traveled over the water before circling around his body. Riding on that breeze came a myriad of scents to fill his head. He could smell the cool clean water next to him; with it he could smell the enticing aroma of lilacs and cherry trees, as well as the heady scent of the grass and dirt beneath his feet. As he concentrated on the breeze, he felt the sense of calm and peace flood back into him. He almost fell asleep sitting on the bench, but then something in his unconscious tingled and he realized that there was someone next to him, staring. Cracking his eyes open to slits, Jack looked over and right into a pair of intense, silvery eyes, staring at him from the other end of his bench. "Whatcha doin'?" The boy asked in a sing-song voice. Jack felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Trying not to fly away." he said, sounding as serious as he could. "Really?" "Oh, yeah," Jack said gravely. "If I don't hang on to this bench, Poof!" He shot his hands up to simulate taking off, then quickly grabbed back on to the stone bench, as if he was afraid to let go. "Nu-uh," the boy looked at him suspiciously, his eyes as big around as saucers. "It's true," said Jack, forcing down a chuckle and putting his most serious face on, "gone." "Cool!" the boy suddenly beamed. "My mommy says I can't fly till I'm older," then his voice lowered down into a conspiratorial whisper, "but I can already." Jack leaned in and nodded, fighting desperately to keep the grin he felt from showing on his face. He had no idea why kids flocked to him, but they always did. It was alright with him, he loved it. Something about their innocent outlook on everything. Adults could be so cynical about the world; but to a child, everything was all so simple. It was refreshing. He had thought about having his own kids before, but it had just never seemed to be the right time. So when Kelly had proved to be less than enthusiastic about the idea, he hadn't pushed her. A little precognition on his part, he guessed. "Wanna see?" asked the boy, his eyes looking back and forth secretively. Uh-oh, Jack thought. He didn't want the kids' imagination to get the better of him. He could just imagine the boy launching himself off of the bench, falling and hurting himself. Maybe little girls never did that sort of thing, but boys; well, Jack had one or two not so fond memories from his childhood that might have started something like this. Better not... "Where's your mom?" Jack asked, looking around nervously for the boy's benefit. "Oh, yeah," said the boy, just remembering that he his mom was watching. He waved in the general direction of a group of adults standing on the other side of the bridge. "She's over there." "Mmm," Jack said to him, "better not then. I don't want you to get in trouble." "Yeah," the boy said, sounding unconvinced. In typical kid fashion though, he was crestfallen for about three seconds flat and then he looked up at Jack, eyes beaming again. "Wanna throw rocks?" Jack laughed out loud. "Sure." he said, and watched the boy run to the edge of the water to look for a few good rocks. Smiling to himself, Jack leaned back and looked around again. Across the lake, back towards his apartment building, a group of adults milled around. As he watched, the crowd parted and a woman passed thought the center. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead of her as she stormed in his direction. Jack couldn't help but stare. She was wearing a light sundress that flowed down her body and clung to every curve as she moved, her perfectly formed hips swaying from side to side, unconsciously seductive as she walked. The sheer dress dipped low enough in front for him, even at a distance, to catch tantalizing glimpses of her deep cleavage, and it ended a few inches above her knees giving him a peek at her flawless alabaster skin. It was obvious from the way her not too large breasts jiggled with every step that the single strap style of the dress did not allow for a bra. Her long auburn hair was pulled tightly back behind her head in a pony tail that swung freely down her back, allowing him a good view of her face as she drew closer. Holy... Wow, was all he could think when he caught sight of her face clearly as she started over the bridge. When Jack had met the Britt girl a few days prior, he had thought that she had possessed the single most beautiful face he had ever seen. But this woman had her beat hands down, only in a different way. Where Britt's exotically dark skin and almond eyes had virtually oozed sexuality and the promise of forbidden pleasure, this girl had a sweetly innocent beauty to her that Jack could not resist. Even with her brows knit together under the obvious cloud she had hanging over her head, his heart wanted to jump out of his chest at the sight of her. Not even knowing what had her upset, he had the strongest urge to jump up, run to her side and comfort her. As she came to within a few steps of him her head suddenly came up and she caught sight of him. Instantly she stopped in her tracks, her intensely bright, steel-blue eyes widening in apparent shock. "What are you doing here?" Jack was taken aback by the cold metal in her voice. For a moment all he could do was stare into the deep pools of her eyes, at a loss for what to say. "What are you doing here?" she repeated, louder this time, glaring down at him. That brought Jack back to himself. Something in the tone of her voice put the steel back in his spine and he glared right back up at her. "Well," he said, lacing his voice with sarcasm, "I'm pretty sure I was sitting down." He watched as her eyes flashed with angry lightning. "And," he continued "the boy and I were planning on skipping rocks on the lake here in a minute, if it's any of your business." The woman shifted her intense gaze to the others on the little island. The two teenage girls were still sitting on the far bench, but there chatting had stopped and now they were staring with wide, astonished eyes at Jack. As she looked at them they immediately jumped to their feet and, dropping a small curtsy towards the woman, they hurriedly left using the far bridge. Who the hell does this woman think she is? thought Jack. "Ryan," she said, softening her voice a little with obvious effort, "Why don't you run and help you sister." The boy was frozen in place, mouth hanging open and a small collection of stones still clutched in the little pocket he had made by folding up the corner of his shirt. He glanced fearfully back and forth between the two of them and then turned and ran across the bridge, stones making a trail behind him as he went. When he was gone the woman whipped back around and, putting her finger right in his face, she hissed. "What are you thinking? You are not supposed to be here!" Oh, that's quite enough of that, thought Jack furiously as he drew himself off of the bench and towered over her. He had reached the end of his patience with this woman. "I think," he growled, his voice rising with his anger, "that I pay rent here just like everyone else. So I think, that I'll go wherever I damn well please. Thank you very much." For a long moment they faced each other. Impossibly she had somehow managed to draw herself up and gave the impression that she was glaring down her nose at him. It was definitely an impressive feat, given that he had at least eight inches on her. He could have sworn she wanted to stamp her foot at him, but instead she simply turned away from him abruptly and stormed off, leaving electric bolts of anger in her wake. Jack closed his eyes for a moment and tried to calm himself. It wasn't often that he lost his temper, but she had hit a raw nerve he hadn't known he had inside of him. What the hell was her problem? He let out a long, slow breath. God, he hated it when he lost his control. He definitely should have handled that differently. So much for a nice break, he thought glancing at her retreating form which, he noticed despite himself, still looked incredibly appealing. Shaking his head, he headed the opposite direction back to his apartment. All the people that had been out enjoying the day seemed to have disappeared. When he was most of the way back to his apartment, a thought suddenly struck him and he whipped around and gazed back the way he had come. Idiot! That voice, the one he remembered coming from behind the big guy on his first day. That was Jennifer, he thought, suddenly putting the two voices together in his head. Great, Jack, just great. Like you don't have enough problems already. Jack started back towards his apartment again, fuming. He did already have enough problems with his neighbor, now this. And to top it all off, when Jennifer had stormed away from him it looked like she was heading for the office. If she hadn't reported his part in the fight here the other day yet, she was probably on her way to do it now. It didn't matter that he wasn't the one at fault for the fight. He was the new guy here, and he knew that the management was more likely to side with her, unless she had a history of problems. Landlords always liked it quiet, so they preferred to get rid of any possible trouble-makers as soon as they could. Thinking furiously as he started up the stairs, Jack totally missed seeing the man in black barreling down the stairs until he had was already crashing into him. The man let out a small scream as he fell backwards, landing flat on his back against the concrete steps. Cursing himself for not paying more attention, Jack looked down to apologize and was suddenly looking into the same steel-blue eyes that he had seen a few minutes earlier on the island. This time however, they were attached to an admittedly handsome man in his mid twenties. At least, Jack figured the guy would have been handsome, if his face had not been contorted with a look of rage and pain. He was dressed smartly in an expensive looking black silk three piece suit that seemed extremely out of place, considering the weather. Worried that he might have really hurt the guy, Jack reached out to give him a hand up but the man just shrugged him off and jumped back to his feet, clutching one hand to his chest in pain. Mumbling to himself darkly he bolted away from Jack, quickly dashing down the stairs and was gone in a flash, disappearing around the corner. Jack was left standing on the stairs, staring after him with a dumbfounded look on his face. What's with these people? Jack thought, shaking his head. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he did have to find a new place to live after all. With the exception of the kid on the island, Jack didn't think he had met one normal person since he had signed the lease. He knew he really couldn't afford to move out; even if he could even find another vacancy in town, the cost of moving all his stuff and setting up again would drain him. Of course, at this point, he might not have a choice in the matter. Turning, he headed back up the stairs to his apartment. When he reached the landing he pulled out his keys to unlock the door. He stopped, arm extended, when he noticed that it was standing slightly ajar. Confused, Jack looked around him. He could swear he remembered locking the door when he went out; in fact he was sure of it. Every nerve in his body suddenly went on alert. At the same time though, he felt a strange calm descend over him that while familiar, seemed totally out of place here, so far removed from combat. He could feel the blood pumping faster through his body and his mind becoming unnaturally alert to everything going on around him as years of training and experience took over. Something was wrong here, he could feel it. Wishing he had a weapon; something more than a set of keys anyway, Jack nudged open the door to his apartment, his body bracing for an attack. There was a calm, detached part of his brain that was picking up every small detail of his surroundings. Everything was examined and logged away for later use. He noticed quickly that there was no sign of forced entry on the door, and also there seemed to be a strange smell that tickled at the back of his mind, he wasn't sure why. When the attack didn't come, he moved slowly into the room looking around, still alert for any danger that might show itself. The Witching Hour Ch. 03 When he was satisfied that no one was waiting for him in the well lit living room, Jack walked quickly to the kitchen and pulled a knife out of the block that sat on the counter. It wasn't much, but he felt better having something besides his bare hands. Knife in hand, Jack quickly swept the apartment, leaving no corner or closet unchecked, but he couldn't find anything out of place. No attackers crouched behind the divider in his small shower, or under the bed, ready to spring out and grab him. By the time he had finished, Jack was starting to feel decidedly foolish. He had known friends of his from the military who had been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when they had come back from deployments to Iraq or Afghanistan. The adrenaline pumping fear and paranoia that was necessary to keep them alive in combat suddenly refused to turn off, even when they had returned to normal life. They began to see things that weren't there, and even the most innocent of things could possibly set them off. Jack himself had never had to deal with it, always finding himself able to separate the different parts of his life. He could shut down that part of him when it wasn't needed. Though, he had always been afraid it would catch up to him eventually. Suddenly he started to wonder if he should be a little worried. As he walked back into the kitchen however, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right here. Everything appeared just as he left it, and nothing was out of place that he could see. He slid the knife back into the block on the counter, turned back to face the living-room, and that's when he saw it. There, just under the lip of the small kitchen island where he hadn't noticed it the last time he came through, was the package that had come yesterday for Jennifer McCoy next door. He could see, even without bending down, that it had been torn open and it now lay empty on the floor. Shit. Jack stepped over and picked up the tattered paper; he could still make out the odd, faded script on the top of it. It looked singed. The box itself hadn't just been opened; it had been ripped in half. Setting it down on the counter, Jack considered his options. He had completely forgotten about the package in the process of setting up his apartment last night. It was an innocent mistake, but he didn't relish the thought of trying to explain that to her. Given their last two meetings, she would probably just assume that he had stolen whatever it was that had been in the package. He could always just not tell anyone and pretend that he had never gotten any package for her. She would just assume it had been lost in the mail, or maybe stolen from the landing. She might suspect him, but she would have no proof. As it was, his real story didn't sound that good. Someone had broken into his apartment, and stole her mail without touching any of his stuff. No, not someone; the man in the black suit. Jack didn't believe in coincidences, and his run in with that man put him top on the list of suspects. Jack sighed heavily and walked back to his bedroom. He wasn't going to do that, for two reasons. The first one was that he just wasn't that type of guy. He sure as hell wasn't perfect, but he always tried to be honest and do the right thing, even when it would be easier to lie. It had gotten him in trouble before, but hey, you had to draw the line somewhere. The second reason was that, while he was busy contemplating what to do, the logical, detached portion of his brain had finally solved a small mystery for him; the smell that still hung faintly in the air. It was no wonder that it had set off something in his mind when he had smelled it. It was a smell you never forgot, no matter how hard you tried. It was the smell of burnt flesh. Something bad had happened here, and he was not going to hide it. Not just to save his apartment anyway. He needed to get some answers. Picking up his cell phone off the dresser, Jack flipped it open and dialed. ***** Jennifer McCoy felt a small, guilty sense of pleasure when she slammed the door to the front office hard enough to cause the pictures on the wall to shake and elicit a small eek of surprise from the terrified young girl who sat at the front desk. Well, Jennifer thought, not really a girl. In truth Ashley was a little older than she herself was, and they had been in many of the same classes together growing up. But as Jennifer's powers had grown, so had her station, while Ashley's had hit their plateau early on. Ranking among the witches of her order was not based on age, not entirely anyway. "High Priestess Jennifer," Ashley said in a surprised voice, bobbing her head respectfully. "What can I do for you today?" "Please tell High Priestess Pamela that I am here as she requested." Jennifer said. "Of course, please," she said placating, "make yourself comfortable." Nodding shortly, Jennifer moved to one of the plush chairs lining the wall that Ashley had indicated and sat down. The door to Pamela Munion's office was closed, so there was no telling how long she would have to wait. Technically, as one of the five High Priestesses that made up the Governing Council of Witches here, she should have been on equal footing with Pamela. What should be and what was, however, didn't always mesh up; especially when it came to Pamela Munion. The High Priestesses each had charge of one of the five houses in the Coven, each one taking their power from one of the five Guardian Elements. So as the High Priestess of Spirit, Pamela was naturally considered to be first among equals. Add to that the fact that Jennifer, the newly appointed High Priestess of Fire, was the youngest person to hold her office in over seven hundred years, and it didn't give her a lot of ground with the older woman. A fact which she thought Pamela had taken great advantage of in the months since Jennifer's Raising. That, along with the fact that she had yet to anoint a High Priest for her house, she knew had become fodder for the gossipers all around the Coven. Jennifer was still fuming from her encounter with Jack Gardener at the circle only a few minutes before. She had no idea how a single man could be so utterly…well, so utterly infuriating. She had nearly died with embarrassment when he had started to yell at her in front of the other members of the Coven. The gods knew they were all probably talking about it by now. She had heard from Britt that everyone was already speculating on who this new mundane really was and why he was here. No one knew anything about him. The talk would be exploding now that he had publicly berated a member of the Council. Closing her eyes for a moment, Jennifer tried to calm down. If she was honest with herself, she could admit that it really hadn't been his fault entirely. She probably could have handled the whole situation a little bit better than she had, as hard as it was for her to admit. Jennifer had just been so shocked when she saw him standing there. But she knew there would have been no possible way for him to know – that is, if he was what he appeared to be – the weeks of hard work his single non-magical presence inside of the circle had probably ruined. At any rate, Jennifer's day had not started off well at all. It had been late into the night, after Britt had left her apartments, before the pain of the Backlash had faded from her completely, allowing her to finally rest. Even then, she had slept fitfully for a long while. Until dreams of fire, pain, and dully glowing, red eyes were slowly replaced by even stranger dreams. In them she lay, unable to move as a stranger's hands ran sensually over her body. She was never able to see the man's face in her dreams, but she knew him from the many nights he had visited her before. His touch always excited her beyond belief and leaving her longing for more. Just like every other time though, she awoke alone, left only with the memory of his touch and a throbbing wetness between her legs. Afterwards she had finally fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep. Upon awakening in the late morning sunlight that came through her bedroom window, she had immediately received the High Priestess of Spirit's request for a meeting. Request, Jennifer snorted to herself, more like a summons. The door to Pamela's office opened abruptly and the graying woman stuck her head out. Taking in the scene in front of her, she saw Jennifer sitting there, lost in thought and glowering at her hands as they rested in her lap, while Ashley sat cowering at her desk, dutifully trying to give the impression that she was hard at work while studiously pretending to ignore both women. "Oh, do come in Jennifer and stop trying to scare the wits out of this poor girl," Pamela said, and immediately turned and reentered the office, leaving the door standing open behind her. Jennifer rose off of the seat as gracefully as she could and followed after the woman. As she entered she saw Ashley look up at her and flash a sympathetic look, before turning and going back to her work. Pamela Munion's office was a study in contradictions. On one hand she was extraordinarily neat, almost bordering on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; everything had its place and was neatly arranged within it. Not a scrap of trash or speck of dust could be found anywhere within the room. Jennifer was sure if she had been able to pull the massive filling cabinets back, she would find that Pamela had dusted there as well. On the other hand, she was an avid collector of cats. Not the real kind, but small porcelain figurines. Without trying Jennifer could quickly make out at least thirty from where she stood, ranging in size from life-size kittens strategically placed on the floor and bookshelves, all the way down to thumbnail size figures that decorated her desk. Despite the cleanliness and neatness, the amount of figurines strewn about gave the entire office a cluttered feeling. Pamela gestured to a chair on the other side of her desk and Jennifer moved to take a seat. She kept her face outwardly calm, but inside she was terrified. She had no idea why Pamela had called her here; the request she had sent had not mentioned a topic for this little meeting, but all Jennifer could think of was the spell that she had used on the marak two days prior. That sort of magic was not allowed within her order. In fact, no order of Witches that Jennifer was aware of allowed the use of that kind of killing spell. Witches were by nature a passive people. One of their guiding tenants had been to do what you will, as long as you cause no harm. That had been the original philosophy anyway. It had changed over the years, as the world had changed, and evolved so the Witches could survive. It would have been naïve and extremely foolish to stick to the letter of the law in today's world, so gradually the Covenant of Witchcraft, which acted on behalf of all the Covens, had decided to slowly bend, if not actually break this rule. Still, the Covenant forbid the use of death magic by Witches, more for the fact that very few Witches were strong enough to handle it without falling victim to the Backlash. The Rule of Three still applied, so a witch always had to be willing to except the consequences of his or her actions. That and the fact that if the mundane governments ever realized that Witches controlled so much power, the fragile stand-off that had existed since after the Burning Times would crumble. The balance had to be maintained. Jennifer waited as Pamela dug through some paperwork, tipping her spectacles down to the tip of her nose and making notations in her computer. The older woman's platinum grey hair and wrinkled, motherly face crinkled as she frowned at her work. Not knowing whether she was actually working, or whether she just wanted her to sweat it out for a little bit, Jennifer kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to interrupt Pamela if she was actually working. Though Jennifer wasn't overly fond of the woman's master-of-my-own-universe attitude, she in no way wanted to replace her. The High Priestess of Spirit was in charge of the day to day running of the entire Coven. With the help of an assistant – a required, rotating duty that was dreaded by all young witches – she ran all of the administration needs, as well as being the public face of the Coven. She dealt with everything from paying bills to running interference with the local mundane government. Jennifer had spent a short time in the assistant position. To this day, she still had nightmares about it. "So, your brother stopped by today," Pamela said, conversationally, not looking up from her paperwork. Jennifer froze. "Step-brother," she said, a hint of ice dropping into her voice and her face hardening at the mention of Jacob. Sighing, Pamela leaned back in her chair, leaving her paperwork on the desk. "Child," she said softly, "you both have the same amount of your mother's blood running through your veins. Despite what he has done, or what you may feel towards him, that will never change." She paused and then continued lightly. "And don't glare at me girl. High Priestess or not, I changed you swaddling clothes enough times to earn the right to call you whatever I want." Jennifer felt the heat creep through her face and she dropped her eyes, not able to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching up a little. "Anyway," she said, coming back to the original topic, "it would seem that Jacob has lost something of value to him: the Bracelet of Akasha. Though how he would have come by such a powerful amulet, or how in the world he could possibly hope to use it, I do not venture to guess." Jennifer had to work to keep her face studiously uninterested, her smile suddenly seeming painted on. "I wouldn't deign to repeat his exact words in polite company, but he seemed to be of the opinion that you were now in possession of it." Pamela said. Jennifer concentrated on keeping her voice bland and uninterested as she replied. "What Jacob believes, doesn't really interest me. I can honestly say I've never seen this Bracelet he's talking about, and if someone stole it from him, he may want to check with the person he stole it from. They probably wanted it back." Pamela gazed suspiciously at Jennifer for a moment, but when she continued, her voice was light and unconcerned. "Of course, I told him that you would never be so stupid as to play around with such a dangerous and powerful Spirit amulet like the Bracelet of Akasha. That's old magic, from a thousand years before the Covenant." She gave Jennifer one last piercing look and said, "Some things are better off remaining forgotten." "Now," Pamela said with finality, leaning forward and looking at her computer, "that wasn't the main reason I asked you here today." Jennifer felt herself tense again. "Have you met our new resident yet?" Jennifer was actually surprised to feel the blush that colored her face; luckily though, Pamela was too busy making new notations on her computer to catch it. She had to clear her throat softly before she could continue. "Uh, only in passing," she said, taking deep breaths to try and cool the skin on her face. "Yes, well, it looks like Mr. Gardener will be staying with us for the time being." Jennifer sat up a little, her interest peeked despite herself, "But, how…" she asked. "I honestly don't know," Pamela said, looking up from her paperwork. "Every once and a while a particularly stubborn or dense mundane will make it through the wards we have set up. Normally when that happens, I just run through a set of motions that they expect. Like calling for approval or something, and then tell them that we have no openings, or that they aren't approved, what have you," she paused for a moment, suddenly looking uncharacteristically surprised. "When I came into the office this time to pretend to call for approval, I had a message waiting for me from none other than the Chairman of the Council of the Elected himself, ordering me to let him stay. Ordering, not asking." Jennifer was shocked, "Morgaine told you to let him stay?" "Yes," said Pamela, continuing, "Which is why I asked you here." Jennifer just looked at the older woman, confused. "As you know, there was only one place available to put him." Yeah, thought Jennifer, Jacob's old apartments. He definitely won't need them anymore. "I don't know what that old vamp Morgaine is up to now Jennifer, so I need you to keep an eye on the mundane until we can figure this all out." The older woman looked at her sympathetically. "I hate to throw him into your lap like this, but since he's in your house for the time being, you'll have to make sure he stays out of trouble." "I understand," Jennifer said, feeling a strange mixture of relief and trepidation. Just then the phone that sat on the corner of Pamela's desk rang. Both women stared at it. Witches had more efficient means of communicating with each other, so they rarely ever used the telephone. Jennifer herself had never even owned one. If this one was in Pamela's office, it must have been for the times she had to communicate with the outside world. When Pamela answered the phone, Jennifer found herself trying to listen in on the conversation, but she could hear none of what was being said on the other side, and after the older woman had answered it she simply listened as the caller spoke. The conversation stretched out for a few minutes and then Jennifer heard Pamela say, "Very well…yes, of course, send them by… Do have your men stop by the office before they go down… Yes, thank you. Goodbye." Pamela hung up the phone and stared at it for a few moments, looking thoughtful. Then she stood up and began to straighten out her desk. Not looking at Jennifer she said, "That was the local Chief of Police; he called to give us a heads up. Apparently, our newest resident has phoned for assistance." She looked up, "It seems that someone has broken into his apartment." "W-what?" Jennifer almost shouted. "Hm, yes. Well it appears that our lives will most definitely not be boring with Mr. Gardner around." She smiled faintly and went back to her work. "I must remain here to let the police know what is expected of them. I trust you can handle things without my help." Hearing the dismissal, Jennifer nodded; it wasn't a question. She rose and walked out forcing herself not to break into a run as she left the office and headed back across the field. ***** I know, I know. I'm not expecting too much on the rating scale for the lack of sex, but it had to happen. Let me know what you think though. And don't forget to vote. The Witching Hour Ch. 04 Thanks for the great re-editing by Jedi_Khan. This one should be a little better. Don't worry, the build-up is almost over… * Well, that was a spectacular waste of time, Jack thought as he closed his apartment door behind the retreating backs of the two uniformed police officers. Disappointed, he turned and headed for the kitchen. He was drained and hungry, having not eaten yet today. Over the last forty-five minutes, he had tried unsuccessfully to explain to the apathetic officers his suspicions. But even though they had dutifully taken notes on everything he said, it was painfully obvious that they didn't believe him. By the end, Jack's story was even beginning to sound thin to his own ears. Not that Jack could really blame them. In a town this size the police would be used to having their hands full with murderers, armed robberies, rapists and a host of other real problems. A simple break-in, where nothing significant had been damaged or stolen, didn't exactly rate high on their radar. Never mind his feelings. Right after he had started talking to them, Jennifer McCoy had materialized from out of her apartment. Standing with her arms crossed over her chest, she had made no move to either interrupt or join in the conversation. Instead, she just stood there, listening as he went over his story. Jack had been a little annoyed at the fact that she had joined the audience. He knew he would have to talk to her eventually, but it was awkward to explain everything to the police with her standing right there. Surprisingly, the police were completely unfazed by her presence. Usually, they would at least try to make spectators move on. But both of the officers had barely given her a glance and then totally ignored her. Oh well, he thought, at least I didn't have to repeat myself. She had obviously gotten over their last meeting, at least. Instead of glaring at him like he was something she had just scraped off of her shoe, she had simply watched him with a thoughtful expression as he told his story. In fact, the only time her expression had changed was when Jack had talked about the package. He had explained how he had received it and how he had tried to return it earlier, but forgot. When the police asked her about what had been in the package, she had frowned and mumbled something about "Nothing important..." The interview hadn't gone much better after that. The officers had come into his apartment to take a cursory, half-hearted glance around. He gave them the tattered remains of the package and they made their way out. Leaving him with a warning to get his locks changed by the apartment, they said they would get back to him and walked away. Jack had hoped that he would have a chance to talk to Jennifer, maybe even clear up a few things with her. But she had disappeared back into her apartment by the time the police were leaving, and he wasn't really in the mood at that point to chase her down. Maybe he had been wrong about the whole thing. The feeling, that something had been terribly wrong, that had come over him before was gone now. He couldn't help but begin to doubt his own memory. Someone had been in his apartment, but as for the rest…well, maybe he really was starting to loose it. Sighing heavily, Jack opened up the cabinet. There wasn't much. When he had moved, he had thrown a few cans of soup and some of the boxed, instant meals in with the rest of his stuff, but had pretty much demolished everything in the last few days, planning to go shopping as soon as he could. Well, he figured, no time like the present. Collecting his keys and cell-phone off of the counter where he had left them earlier, Jack headed back out the front door. After making double sure he had set the dead-bolt, he turned and went down the stairs and around the back of the apartment to where his car sat waiting. It wasn't much to look at, just an old Pontiac, but it was paid off. While the friends he had in the military had always had to have the newest and the best, Jack had been more worried about putting money away for the proverbial rainy day. The day Kelly had left, it had started pouring. Getting into his car and turning the key in the ignition, Jack felt a brief flash of satisfaction as the engine turned over on the first try. Old or not, he had kept the car in good condition and in return it had always taken care of him. Jack backed out of the driveway and drove around the outside of the apartment buildings to the small lot attached to the office building. Before he headed out for groceries, he decided he should go ahead and talk to Mrs. Munion. He was tired of not being sure where exactly he stood when it came to his future here. It had been odd to him that during the whole episode with the police, Jennifer had not once mentioned anything about his fight with her boyfriend or their confrontation on the island. Besides, he thought as he made the short drive, he was definitely going to take the officer's advice about changing the locks. Nothing on the doors had shown any sign of a break-in. And a quick check of the windows and the balcony had showed him that they were still locked as well. How someone could have made it up to the third floor without being able to fly, though, was beyond him. So, the guy had obviously had a key. Jack pulled up into the parking lot and shut off his engine. He really wasn't looking forward to this. Not only was Mrs. Munion the last person that he needed to deal with right now, he still wasn't sure what, if anything, Jennifer had told her about the other day. If things went the way he feared, he wouldn't worry about his trip to the grocery store. Resigned, Jack got out of his car and went inside. As he closed the door behind him he was surprised to receive a warm greeting from a girl he hadn't seen the last time he had come. Jack smiled. Though she wasn't nearly as beautiful as Jennifer, the girl behind the desk did have a certain appeal. Dressed sharply in a nice, form fitting business blouse, she presented a perfectly professional appearance. But, something in the way her deep, sea green eyes sparkled when she looked at him told him she knew how to let go when it was time. "Oh, hi there," she greeted him, her eyes flashing startled recognition. "Hey," he said, "Is Mrs. Munion around?" Glancing back at the closed office door as if she thought her boss was going to spontaneously appear from within, the girl turned back to him and apologetically said, "No, sorry. She had to step out and deal with a minor crisis." "Oh," Jack looked at her sheepishly, "I hope I wasn't the cause of that" Something in the brief change of expression that quickly ran across her face let Jack know that he had hit the nail on the head with that one. Damn, he thought. But instead her smile returned and she said, "No, no, nothing like that. Just some minor apartment business, nothing to worry about." She paused, as if she were deciding something, and then continued. "You're Mr. Gardener, our new resident, right?" "Jack, please, I'm really trying to get away from the whole last name thing." In the army, no one used first names, ever. So he had always been Gardener, or Sergeant Gardener; never Jack. From the look on her face she didn't understand, but she let it slide. "Okay, Jack. I'm Ashley." She reached across the table and shook his offered hand. It might have been his imagination, but Jack thought she held it for just a little longer than was really necessary. Her soft, warm hands felt good against his and he felt her fingertips glide briefly along his palm as she pulled back. "Where're you coming from?" she asked as she leaned forward onto the desk, eyes gazing up at him with an almost too intense curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking." Jack found it impossible not to notice, with her leaning forward like that, the way the buttons on her blouse strained to hold back the treasures inside. She had left the top two undone and he let his eyes follow along the smooth lines of her neck up from her collar bone to her full red lips. She smiled as she caught him looking. "Oh, yeah. I'm from all over," he said, feeling a little embarrassed. "Originally from out west though." "California boy then, huh?" "Colorado, actually." He grinned at her. Jack had always found it a little funny how the people who lived on either of the coasts always unconsciously forgot that there was more to the country than just the states that touched water. "Ooo, nice." she said, not fazed in the least. "I just asked cause you don't..." she paused, glancing at the door. "You're just not the type we usually get around here." Huh? She was the third person he had met here that said something similar. Suddenly he found himself wondering what she had been going to say, before she changed her mind. There was something he couldn't quite pin down about the people he had met here so far. Even the people he had only seen in passing this morning on his walk. They all seemed to have something in common. Jack couldn't figure it out. They just all seemed to fit, somehow. Well, except for Britt, he thought, smiling. She seemed different in a whole other way. He definitely couldn't help but feel a little out of place. "Yeah, I seem to get that a lot lately," he said. She blushed, the warm rosy glow spreading up her neck and over her pale, lightly freckled skin, all the way to the her shockingly red hair. Jack found himself suddenly imagining how far down that blush really went. He was definitely curious now. And he found that he was really enjoying talking to Ashley. He had confined himself to such a solitary life lately that even this light back and forth seemed to be feeding his long starved need for companionship. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll bet. I didn't mean to pry. I was just..." she trailed off, not quite knowing what to say. Curious? Jack finished in his head for her as he met her eyes. Why not? "It's no problem," he said to her. "Maybe sometime you and I could grab some dinner and I'll tell you anything you want to know." He winced to himself. As far as pick-up lines went, it wasn't exactly gold metal material. He watched her eyes sparkle with interest for a moment and a small grin come to her lips as she looked him over. But then she glanced almost fearfully back at Mrs. Munion's office door and said, "Sorry, I don't think I-- I'm not supposed to date the residents." She gave him an apologetic smile. Jack hadn't missed the brief pause when she had answered. There probably wasn't any such rule, but he appreciated the effort anyway. Damn. Smooth move, Casanova, he chuckled to himself. You are definitely out of practice. "Ah well," he shrugged and said lightly, "What are you gonna' do?" Fishing around for something to say to break the slightly awkward moment, he suddenly remembered his reason for coming there in the first place. "Well," he said, "Can you do me a favor?" "Sure." "I needed to leave a message with Mrs. Munion. I had a break-in at my apartment today, and I had to have the police come down. Nothing was taken, but I thought that you guys should know." "Oh..." She didn't seem that surprised and he suddenly wondered how often this sort of thing would have to happen for it to be that small of a shock. "Yeah," she said, clearing up his confusion, "They stopped by on their way in and talked to her. Terrible thing; it's never happened before." Jack thought that was a little strange. Normally, if the police were called the apartment's manager would be there trying to find out what happened. But the only one he had seen there had been Jennifer. "No big deal," he told her, "they didn't take anything important, and nothing was broken, but I would like to have the locks re-keyed as soon as possible. They didn't smash down the front door or anything so I'm afraid it might have been one of your former residents." "Of course," she said, sounding a little relieved. "We'll get that done today. Just stop back by if you're going out and pick up the new key." She sat back and looked up at him expectantly. There was still that deep curiosity in her eyes that he had seen before as she looked at him coyly. His radar must be way off today. If he hadn't just been shot down, he would have sworn she was still into him. Just wishful thinking, he told himself. "Also," he continued, very reluctantly, "One more thing. Jennifer McCoy from apartment 301 may have stopped by to talk to you guys about an incident the other day..." He trailed off hoping she would take the bait. He really didn't want to bring it up if she hadn't actually said anything, but he had to know. "High—uh, Jennifer?" she stuttered, sounding genuinely shocked, but she recovered quickly. "No," she said, sounding confused. "Ms. McCoy came by earlier, but she didn't say anything about any incident." "Oh..." Jack said, relieved and a little shocked himself that she hadn't said anything. Casting around for something to cover his mistake, he continued. "It's no big deal; just some of her mail was taken in the break-in, so I don't know if she said anything about it..." He trailed off. There, he thought, not a lie, sort of. Well, he wasn't perfect. "Okay," she said. "I'll let Mrs. Munion know." Jack could see the questions forming in her eyes, and he figured he had already said too much. It was time to beat a hasty retreat before he shoved his foot any farther into his mouth. Backing towards the door he said, "Well, I better take off. I have to go out and get something to put in my fridge." Laughing she stood up and moved around the desk, "Yeah, that would probably be good." As she moved to his side to walk him out, he caught her scent. It was a nice, lightly flowery and clean scent that he liked. It didn't take over or cover up her natural scent, but rather seemed to simply enhance it. She rested her hand on his arm as he walked to the door. As he opened it, he couldn't quite figure out whether she was sending mixed signals, or if he had just been alone for way too long. "I'll see you around, Ashley." Jack said as he walked out into the early evening twilight. She watched him as he walked to his car. If nothing else, at least, it seemed that he didn't have to worry about losing his apartment anymore. If Jennifer hadn't said anything when she had come up earlier, she probably wouldn't. Too embarrassed, he figured. "Jack," Ashley called from behind him when he was halfway to his car. He turned back and looked at her. "Yeah?" She stepped out of the office and walked the short distance over to him. "I get off for lunch at eleven thirty tomorrow." she said, a little shyly. "If you happened to be going to lunch at the same time, it wouldn't be a date, now would it?" She looked up at him hopefully. "No, I guess it wouldn't." He smiled. "Good, I'll be in front of the Wind House then." "Wind House?" "Oh. Yeah," she looked embarrassed for a second, and then pointed to the apartment just to the west of the office. "It's that one." With that she turned and hurried back into the office, the door closing quickly behind her. Jack stood for a moment and stared after her. Shaking his head and smiling, he turned and walked to his car. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad living here after all. ***** Jacob Darvish glared down at the shaking girl who was kneeling in front of him as he sat back in his over-stuffed lounge chair. She was working her jaw and staring fearfully at his half-erect cock, which she had been working on for the better part of twenty minutes with no results. She was totally naked, with her hands bound behind her back, as she sat back on her heels to try and work the kinks out of her back and neck. Around her neck the girl wore a studded leather dog collar attached to a long silver chain. It chafed terribly at her neck, but she would never dream of going around the mansion without it on. It was the symbol of her servitude and her submission to the Master. From her rosy nipples hung two small, woven leather straps that were attached to the hardened nubs with two steel clamps, which would send jolts of delicious pain shooting through her breasts every time she moved. Growling in frustration, Jacob reached forward and grabbed her by her pale blonde hair, pulling her roughly back down into his lap. He heard a strangled cry of surprise from her as his cock found its way forcibly back into her mouth, but after a moment she dutifully went back to work. His breath hissed in between his teeth as he realized he had forgotten and used his bandage covered hand. It throbbed in protest but he pushed the pain aside. Even the pleasure he could always find from the girl was doing nothing to lift his black mood. It was all his sisters' fault, he thought hatefully. He didn't know how, but somehow that up-tight bitch had taken the Bracelet of Akasha from him. And now, all of his long planning had been for nothing. Tonight, its power would fall beyond his grasp. It had taken him almost a year to get to this point. Months of searching and chasing clues had finally found the bracelet hiding in a small European Coven. After that, he had brought it carefully back here, and set about preparing the tedious incantations. Four solid months of work had been necessary to prepare the ritual that would fool the Bracelet into not recognizing the true source of his power. At long last, all he had to do was wait for the proper time. At midnight tonight, the planets would be aligned. During that brief moment the spells he had cast would bypass the runes of protection that allowed only an anointed High Priestess to access its power. Running out of time, he had gone to the Coven that morning in a rage. He knew in his gut that his sister had to have been the one to take it. But the old crone had stopped him, and would not even let him go into the Coven's apartments. Acting condescendingly innocent, she had told him she had no idea what he was talking about, and promptly threw him out. Ha, he snorted to himself, if those self-righteous whores only knew... They couldn't keep him out, no matter what kind of wards they put up around the place. They had no clue the kind of power he had come into after leaving the Coven a year ago. Jacob had easily slipped past the Witches defenses and went to see his sister. He would make that bitch give it to him. Three days ago he had sent Tarvo, his marak assistant to scare her into giving back the bracelet. The marak are not the brightest creatures around, but they can be very persuasive. Jacob didn't know what had become of him, but he was sure Jennifer had something to do with it. Witches were supposed to be passive. Still, he bore the scars from their last confrontation. Hypocritical bitch, Jacob thought to himself. Growling again he used his good hand and forced the girl's head farther down on his shaft. Even though he still was not fully erect, he watched her eyes widen and begin to water as he cut off her airflow. For a moment he held her there, watching her struggle before he finally released her and she came up sputtering and coughing. He felt a small, wicked grin cross his face. Immediately though, his thoughts went back to the events of the day. He had at once sensed the presence of his incantations on the bracelet when he had arrived. But they hadn't been coming from her apartment. Instead, they had come from his old rooms. Confused he had released the locks that bound the door and entered. For a brief moment, he had stood frozen in shock to find that his apartment was occupied by someone else. The odd decoration, made up of primarily crappy pieces of dime store furniture, seemed so out of place in the rooms he had called home for so many years. The Witching Hour Ch. 04 Being drawn to the unfamiliar package on the counter, he immediately crossed the living room and picked it up. Unfortunately he hadn't noticed the runes of protection written on the outside. The ball of fire that erupted from them as he tore open the package had seared painfully into his hand. In that single fateful moment his eyes had caught the falling golden glint and he had reached out to stop it. He had dropped it as if stung, the power within it flaring to life. It was too late. Recognizing him for what he was, it had driven him back with pure flashes of blinding power. It knew him now, and he would never again be able to touch it. The girl in his lap was working franticly on him now. Instead of reacting to her efforts though, he seemed to actually be shrinking inside her mouth. Jacob could tell she was terrified. Thoughts of the last time that she had failed to please the Master replayed themselves over and over again in her head. A shutter ran down her body and she hesitated. Snarling, Jacob reached down and backhanded her, sending her flying off of him. She landed in a sobbing ball on the floor. Dazed and cringing she tried to get back up, but he had landed a good blow on her temple and she was too dizzy. Rising to his feet, Jacob considered killing her right there. True, she had always served him well in the past, but he was growing tired of her constant cowering. He was surrounded by weak, pathetic fools. The Coven, Tarvo, the other sorcerers, all of them; he should kill them all. His hands balled into a fist. "Enough, my love," Jacob heard the smoky voice behind him command. "Waste not, want not." "Tasha," he said, surprised. "Where have you been?" She shrugged. "Making constructive use of our time with the Elected." Turning away from the now forgotten quivering mass on the floor, Jacob strode over to where the tall mage stood in the doorway. He took her into his arms and, leaning in, kissed her deeply. As he did, he wormed his hands beneath her robe and cupped them around her naked ass. Unlike most of her peers, Tasha preferred to wear as little as possible, if anything at all, underneath her robes. She always enjoyed the feel of the silky cloth against her skin. Jacob felt himself instantly harden as he pressed against her body. To the rest of the Sorcerers Guild Tasha was his Master. The high ranking mage had agreed to take him in when he had come to her after leaving the Coven abruptly. The truth was that he had quickly progressed beyond apprenticeship, thanks to the strong power of his father's magic flowing deeply in his veins. Add to that his own insatiable lust for power which had led him to secretly search for ways to increase his magic long before that night, and with only a little instruction from her, they had soon found themselves equals. Well, he thought to himself slyly as he let his hands roam over her body, as far as she knows. He knew that eventually he would have to rid himself of her. Someday soon, she would outlive her usefulness to him; but not yet. Right now he needed her influence within the Sorcerers Guild and her connections in the Council of the Elected. They still did not completely trust him -- a gift from his father's own unbridled ambition -- and the only thing that gave him what little credibility he had was his apprenticeship in one of the oldest and most powerful Guild families. "What has happened?" she asked, feeling the bandage on his hand as it groped over her breast. She could also sense the mood he was in. While he wasn't normally the happiest person, now his urgency had taken on a dark and frightening feel. Ignoring her question for now, Jacob pulled one hand away from her and grabbed her robe at the collar. With one yank, he ripped it all the way down the front, exposing the pale, naked flesh beneath. She let out a small gasp and shuttered with delight as his hand returned to her body. This time it moved down to the suddenly dripping opening between her legs. Leaning into him, her soft moan was swallowed by his waiting mouth. One hand busily massaging her mound, Jacob used the other to pull at the back of her robes. Bemused, she allowed herself to be stripped of her remaining clothing and drawn across the room, back to the chair he had previously occupied. He slipped one finger deep inside of her moist folds and began to rub her from the inside as well. Jacob felt a possessive thrill at how much control he had over her. The muscles of her pussy clenched repeatedly around his invading finger. But at this point he was far beyond the point of foreplay. The long blowjob that he had endured before, while totally unsatisfying, had all the same left him with a desperate need to spend himself and relieve the pent up frustration he had been carrying all day. Tasha's eyes were squeezed shut and her breath was coming in short pants at this point. She let out a groan of disappointment as his fingers left her; but she didn't have to wait long. Seating himself on the edge of the chair, Jacob roughly forced his legs between hers until she was straddling him. Positioning himself at her opening, he pressed his hips forward a little, barely entering her. He moved his hands onto her hips and in one single thrust, buried himself deeply inside of her; her eyes flying open and a startled scream escaping her lips. They both paused for a moment, and then she began to grind against his lap. Reaching out his hands, he grabbed on to the two huge orbs that were swaying gently in front of him and began to knead them roughly as she moved back and forth on his cock. Her eyes widened in shock and a hiss of painful pleasure came from her as his fingers found her nipples and began to pinch and twist them. Her body straining with the violent ecstasy, she pressed herself forward into his grasp. After a few minutes like this, Jacob began to feel the need to take on a more active role. Keeping himself buried to the hilt inside of her he moved them both to the floor and turned her around until she was on her knees facing away from him, her face pressed hard against the carpeted floor. While he was sorry to lose such easy access to her sumptuous breasts, he had to admit, this gave him a hell of a view. Picking up the pace, he began to drive his length into her over and over again. Each time he pulled almost all the way out and then rammed himself into her hard enough that every time, with the slap of skin, she would let out a muffled grunt. Reaching down between her legs he started to rub her clit with his fingers as he continued to ram into her from behind, causing her to writhe on the floor with pleasure. With the wicked grin back on his face, Jacob pulled his sodden fingers away from her dripping pussy and, bringing them back around in front of him, he began to lightly drag them over her tiny rosebud. He watched as every time his fingers grazed over the tender flesh, it would clench shut, but she didn't seem to notice what he was doing, lost as she was in the feeling of his cock moving in and out of her. When he figured she was properly lubricated, he moved his thumb to the opening. Slowly but firmly he pressed the digit into her tight hole. A disapproving grunt came from her as her body froze and instantly tensed around his thumb. But the loud smack of his good hand landing on her ass caused her to release her hold. It was too much. The relentless pounding, the pressure of his thumb lodged inside of her, and the unexpected shock that sent lightning into her body from his hand; the wave of her orgasm slammed into her. As Jacob felt the muscles inside of her begin to spasm around him, he drove his cock deep inside her and felt his own release flood out of him. With wave after wave of pleasure slamming into both of their bodies, he emptied himself inside of her, until he could give no more. He felt the muscles in her pussy milking him for all he was worth as the tide passed from them. For a while they just lay there, not moving as the haze from their climax faded. Pulling out of her, Jacob drew her with him into the chair, sat her on his lap and absent-mindedly began running his fingers in circles over her sensitive skin. "So, are you ready to tell me now?" she asked, once she had control of her breathing again. With as sigh and a chuckle he proceeded to tell her of the unfortunate events that had happened to him that day. She listened intently, making only a few comments along the way. When he was done they talked late into the night, discussing what effect this would have on their other plans and how to accomplish their goals now that their first had failed. The Witching Hour Ch. 05 Okay, I swear. Things are going to start kicking off now. Remember to let me know what you think. I'm really interested in getting better, so all input is appreciated, even the harsh stuff. * Jack finished loading in the last of his groceries and closed the door to the refrigerator. It had been later than he expected when he had finally come back to the apartment with an armload of food and various other things he had picked up while he was out. Instead of going strait to the store, he had decided to grab a bite to eat at a little diner not too far away. It was never good to shop for groceries on an empty stomach, not unless he wanted an empty wallet too. The food had been excellent. Pretty much the standard American greasy comfort food he had come to expect from mom and pop places in the south. He had settled for a nice pulled pork barbeque sandwich and fries. One of the first things he had found out immediately after he had arrived in Georgia the first time was that they took their barbeque extremely seriously. As he had heard a comedian somewhere put it, "In the state of Georgia, barbeque is a noun, not a verb; and a holy one at that." When he had finished his meal, he had sat back and contentedly waited for the portly waitress to bring him his change. From out of the windows next to his booth he had spotted a movie theater. Deciding that he could use some light entertainment tonight he had dropped a tip on the table and walked across the street. It had been a small movie theater, with only two screens, so his choices were limited to the latest war movie and a comedy that he hadn't heard of. Jack didn't really go in for the Hollywood version of war -- he figured some things were better to watch if you hadn't actually done them before -- so he had decided to give the comedy a shot. It had been forgettable, but it served its purpose in distracting him and killing a little time. So, by the time Jack had finally arrived home and put away the food, it was already well after eleven. He had left his party animal days behind him when he'd married, so this was actually late for him. But tonight for some reason he felt wired by the days events and he wasn't in a hurry to go to bed. Opening the freezer he pulled out the bottle of Jack Daniels he had bought and retrieved a glass from the cabinet. Pouring himself a small glass, he put away the bottle and moved to the couch to relax. It had been an extremely interesting day. He took a sip and felt a warmth spread through him as the bitter liquor burned down his throat. Jack grimaced; whiskey was definitely an acquired taste. Normally he would have mixed it with a soft-drink or something, but having completely forgotten to pick any up while he was shopping he simply nursed it slowly. He thought about his coming not-date with Ashley tomorrow. She was cute. When he had talked to her today, she had seemed so flustered about the whole thing, not quite knowing what to say. He couldn't help but find that endearing. Jack found himself looking forward to spending time with her. He could admit to himself that it was not exactly love at first sight, but he wasn't going to complain. It wasn't like he exactly had girls beating down his front door, and having a good looking girl want to spend time with him did something to stroke his sensitive male ego. She was pretty too; not exuding sexuality like Britt had, or even close to Jennifer's heart stopping beauty, but pretty nonetheless. Jennifer… he thought, a mental picture of her appearing uninvited in his mind. She was a mystery to him. Ever since his first day here, when their lives had been briefly and violently thrust together, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. It must have just been everything that had happened since he arrived that was confusing him. Everything that had happened so far had revolved around her. He found himself suddenly interested in what she had been thinking while she looked at him as he had spoken to the police. The only other time he had actually seen her, she had been furious. He had no clue why. But, as she had watched him tell his story, he had almost got the feeling… Yeah, he thought condescendingly at himself, right. Looking down, Jack suddenly realized that his glass was completely empty. He could feel the lightly pleasant fog of the alcohol working its way through his mind. He hadn't really drank much at all for a very long time and the strong, strait whiskey was going to his head. It did feel good though. Maybe he would top off his glass just one more time, and keep the enjoyable buzz going, but as he got to his feet he felt a rushing in his head. Maybe not. Moving into the kitchen, Jack rinsed his glass of and left it in the sink. He wasn't really interested in getting drunk tonight anyway. The day was starting to catch up to him and he could feel his energy beginning to drain away in the warm haze of the drink. A small contented grin on his lips, he leaned up against the island counter. He should probably head back to his bedroom and call an end to the day. He knew he didn't have to get up too early to meet up with Ashley, but he had a few other things he wanted to take care of as well. Thinking about Ashley, he was surprised to find that in his mind her fiery red hair kept shifting to soft auburn locks, and steel-blue replaced sea green. Shaking his head, Jack moved around the island, starting for his bedroom. What was with him? Jennifer was beautiful, sure, but she definitely wasn't his type. He had enough baggage of his own to deal with; and from what he had seen, she clearly was carrying her share. As he passed through the living room, something caught his eye. From underneath the edge of his couch he saw a small golden glint as the light from the kitchen reflected off something stuck under there. Curious, Jack stopped, bending over a little unsteadily to take a closer look. He wasn't quite able to see what it was so, leaning his weight into the couch, he slid it a few inches to the side. Lying on the short tan carpet was a strange looking piece of jewelry that Jack had never seen before in his life. The antique looking golden band was made up of strips of metal that looked like they had been woven together in an intricate pattern. Along each strip ran some kind of strange script that was slightly raised off of the gleaming surface. Though it was obviously writing of some kind, he had no idea what it said. Jack couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen something like it before though. While he got the distinct impression that the bracelet was very old, he definitely couldn't tell from the way it looked. The brightly polished gold looked like it had come strait from the local jewelry store. As he looked, Jack started to feel the undeniable urge to pick it up and inspect the script more closely. It was as if he could feel a tangible force, coming from the bracelet and drawing on his mind. Reaching out his hand, Jack's finger's wrapped around the bracelet. Instantly his eyes flew open wide and he gasped in pain, all traces of the alcohol induced haze driven from his mind. Pulses of molten fire were radiating from the scars on his chest, and he felt every muscle in his body spasm and lock as his back arched in agony. The searing, unending pain drove his breath from him so he couldn't even let out the scream he felt trapped inside of him. For long moments he knelt on the floor, the hot brands of his scars buring into him anew. Just when he thought that he could no longer take it and was praying for the relief of unconsciousness, the pain suddenly was gone from his body, leaving him empty. Jack let out a shuddering breath and his shoulders sagged as his muscles loosened. The bracelet, still clutched in his hand gave off a soft heat that he didn't notice as he tried to pull himself back together. It took a moment, but slowly Jack began to be conscious of the growing heat coming from the golden surface. Confused, he looked down and opened his hand. There was a soft light coming from it that sparkled against his skin. The script along the band impossibly seemed to glow from within. He tried to drop it, abruptly more frightened of this tiny thing than he had ever been of anything in his life. His hand wouldn't move, and the heat was growing faster now. It wasn't pain this time, not really; it felt more like the electrical tingle he would get putting his hand too close to a live wire. When the glow seemed to peak, he suddenly felt something flow out of the bracelet and into his body. The power crashed into him with a tangible force that slammed into him and he fell backward onto the floor. It saturated every cell of his body as it washed over him. It was too much for Jack; his mind having experienced too many sensations to handle, he passed out. Unseen by Jack, the clock on his bookshelf flashed as the time showed 12:01. Far above him the planets, unconcerned with the events below, moved out of alignment and continued on there heavenly journey. ***** Jennifer knew where she was even before she felt the hands touch her. She could see nothing, the inky blackness closing in so tight that it didn't matter whether her eyes were open or not. Floating, she felt the presence of her dream lover near by. She waited, somehow knowing that even though she could not see him, he was caressing her body with his eyes. Time seemed to stretch out forever as she waited, anticipation building. She arched her back and writhed in the darkness, straining for the touch she knew was coming. Finally, when she couldn't take it any longer and was about to scream with frustration, she felt his fingertips brush lightly along her side. It felt like liquid lightning to her sensation deprived body. She shuddered with delight. The hand traveled up her side all the way to her neck, barely grazing along her skin as it went. She felt it move up and caress the sensitive parts just behind her ear lovingly and then trace the line of her chin until it brushed sensually over her parted lips. Breathing him in, she caught his scent; clean, but unmistakably man. Her breath came in a gasp as she felt a second hand touch her hip, moving ever so slowly upwards towards her tender breasts. She ached with her need for that touch. Moving at a tortuous pace, it slowly rounded her curves and she felt the fingertips run over the top of her chest and travel around the outside in lazy circles. It was still far away, but with every pass it came closer and closer to touching the sensitive crests. The first hand meanwhile, had moved back down from her face, sending little sparks of pleasure through her body as it lightly traced the little divot above her collarbone. Slowly -- Gods, ever so slowly, -- it moved downward, forging a trail between her breasts. Reaching her stomach she felt it begin to explore; the hand painting invisible pictures onto her flesh and inching ever lower. The sensations pouring out from his hands and shooting out over her entire body were finally starting to come to rest between her legs. From deep inside of her, she felt the pressure begin to build; a fluttering heat that was slowly building to a raging inferno. She could feel her wetness beginning to build. In the building grey of her dream she could make out the hand moving on the mound of her breast, still teasingly circling one and then the other. From somewhere deep within her mind the thought came that this was strange. Normally she could never see anything during her dream time with the man. But it was a small thought, and it was washed from her mind when she felt his fingers graze lightly over her sex. Laying her head back as he ran his fingers rhythmically up and down over her soft lips, she longed for him to put her out of her misery. For him to stop teasing her, as he did ever time, and give her the release she so desperately needed. As if he sensed her unspoken need, one of his fingers suddenly slipped deep inside of her. As she let out a plaintive moan of sheer pleasure, he began to move it in and out of her. Instead of quenching the heat of her need as she had hoped, this only served to stoke the flames of her desire in ways she had never dreamed of before. Picking her head up, she looked down between her breasts to where her torturer was slowly manipulating her every nerve to bring her closer and closer, while never quite letting her get there. Even in her pleasure distracted, dream-fogged state she was shocked to, for the first time ever, see the face of her dream lover. Unlike the other times she had seen this face, the hard grey eyes that looked back into hers seemed filled with love and compassion. His lips smiled on his work tanned face, and his strong chin was not set in anger or annoyance, as it was the last two times she had seen it. She felt his weight press against her as he leaned forward, bringing his face up to meet hers. His magic fingers never missed a beat as he shifted positions. As he lowered his head down to her his strong masculine scent washed over her again. Her lips parted in anticipation and she closed her eyes with a little shiver as his lips touched her own. Jennifer suddenly woke with a start. Washing over her, a wave of pure magic like she had never felt before crashed into her senses. It felt like an intense electric fire was burning its way through her mind. Startled, she lay on her bed wide eyed and staring at the ceiling as it flowed through her. As abrupt as it had come, the tide receded and she was left panting for breath, all thoughts of pleasure momentarily forgotten. What the... Her mind quickly pulled itself back together and she sat up out of the satin sheets of her bed. She could feel the cool air kissing the beads of sweat on her forehead. There was only one thing she knew that could produce that much power at once. Jacob. Getting her breathing under control she projected her thoughts outward. Britt, I need you in here, now. Almost before she had finished the thought, the spiral of smoked snaked down into the room and with a flash Britt appeared before her. Unlike last time, she was fully clothed -- well as fully clothed as Britt ever got, in a pair of tight sweat shorts and a baby half-tee -- and for once she wasn't wearing her normal mischievous smile. She looked unusually concerned. "Jacob has activated the Bracelet of Akasha." Jennifer explained. "Obviously." Britt snapped at her. Startled, Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Mistress," Britt stammered, "I'm just-- Wow! It was just a shock. Every magical being and witch east of the Mississippi must have felt that in their bones." "Can you tell where it was? We have to stop him." Jennifer was frantic. All she had done, everything she had worked for, it couldn't be in vain. It was Britt's turn to raise an eyebrow now. "Are you kidding, Jenny? That was like a nuclear bomb of magical power. It went off everywhere. I couldn't track it, even if I wanted to. Which I don't. 'Cause right now we don't know what kind of power he's got." She shook her head. "Gods, how could that boy be so stupid." "Huh?" Jennifer said, not following Britt's logic. "Jacob," she explained, "he tapped all of the bracelets power at once. I'm not an expert or anything. Hell, I was a lot younger then," she flashed a brief grin, a little of the old Britt coming back, "and I hadn't really discovered the joys of human companionship all that much quite yet. But I remember that even as powerful as the witches were a thousand years ago, none of them would ever have done more than access just a trickle of the power. That's why it was made so only an anointed High Priestess of Spirit could use it. She would be the only one who could control it." She paused and looked at Jennifer thoughtfully. "Whatever Jacob did to access its power," she continued, "he forgot to use safeguards. The old ones knew that if the bracelets full power came forth at once, it would destroy a witches' ability to access any other power but its own, if it even left them alive." "Ha," Jennifer shook her head, "We should be so lucky. But, this may be our one slim chance." "So," Britt asked, looking at her, "what's the plan, Mistress?" "I guess we wait," she shrugged her shoulders. "Not much else we can do anyway. The bracelet gives him powerful magic, but if he has lost the rest of his powers, we may still have a chance." They both stood for a moment in silence, lost in thought. Jennifer's found her mind drifting back to her dream. She felt her body flush slightly with pleasure at the memory. She could still feel the hollow wetness between her thighs. It had been so intense, and the first time that she had seen a face in the recurring dream. Why him? she wondered to herself. She could still feel his body pressed up against hers... "Britt?" She asked, hesitantly, but then she cleared her throat and continued on in a slightly clearer voice. "Are you still keeping an eye on Jack for me?" As Britt looked knowingly at her, her lips formed a wicked smile and Jennifer felt a blush creep onto her face. "Every now and then," she said. "He went out earlier, but I didn't tag along. Not like he can get into too much trouble out there. Anyways, he seems okay now." "Oh, okay." "We could pop over and check, if you want to spy..." she paused, frowning a little, "He's probably sleeping, I can't quite tell. There're a lot of confused witches freakin' out right now." "No," Jennifer sighed "that's okay. He's probably the only one who's going to get any sleep tonight anyway. Just..." She trailed off. "I'll keep an eye on him, Mistress." ***** Jacob's eyes were wrenched open as he felt the powerful electric surge of witch magic flow through his senses like a lightning bolt. His mind snapped immediately awake and he sent his senses outward. Underneath the flowing pulse of Spirit, he could feel his own familiar incantations flaring to life and riding the same wave of power. Lying undisturbed next to him, Tasha's soft naked body shifted against him as she moved in her deep sleep. Being only a mage, she wasn't attuned to the flow of natural magic that he had controlled since childhood. The two sides of human magic operated in totally different ways and, as far as he knew, he was the only person in over a thousand years with the ability to master both. She was completely unaffected by the massive release of power. As quickly as it had come, the feeling ebbed and passed over him. His heart was racing and his nerves were left raw. Careful not to wake her, he untangled himself from Tasha's sleeping form and rose from the bed. In the darkness of the room he heard her sleepy, disappointed groan, but she instantly fell back into her dreams. Crossing the room, Jacob stood at the window and looked out into the night, his nude body glowing with the silvery light of the full moon. His thoughts were running a million miles a second as his brain mulled over what he had felt. Obviously someone had released the power from the bracelet. But the question was who? If the anointed High Priestess of Spirit, or any witch for that matter, had touched it; he would not have felt his incantations trip as well. They were attuned to the bracelet's defensive power, which would only strike against a sorcerer or a sorcerer's creation -- a leftover from the old wars --, neutralizing it before it could cause any harm. Any witch could have touched it, and he would have felt nothing. So who then? Sighing angrily, Jacob turned away from the window. He knew he would not get anymore sleep tonight. He had much to find out. Once again, something unexpected had been thrown into his well laid plans. This time however, he was going to be ready to turn it to his advantage. He just had to find out what and how. The Witching Hour Ch. 05 ***** If you like it, please let me know, vote. But, better yet, if you don't, let me know why. I need all the help I can get. Thanks.