Crescent Bound (49 page)

Lilura begins to speak again,
“
I am pleased to be here, but sad to inform you that our Lord Worthington will not be available for this lecture, no cause to worry though, we have a rare opportunity indeed.  Today, to lecture in her father
’
s absence is our lady…Alyssa Worthington.
”
  I straighten my dress one last time and begin to walk into the room.

Show time
I tell myself.  My heels tap a soft gentle rhythm as I approach the podium.  I did the
Worthington
coven handshake with Lilura and quietly thank her for her introduction. 

T
urning myself gracefully toward
the hundreds of witches that now sit before me I instantly feel the tingling sensation from Marc as he sits out in the room somewhere, looking at me and watching. 

I start my chant inside my mind,
Keep your
compo
s
ure
, your cool, and
you
’
re
calm. 
I change the sound of my voice a bit, sounding more mystical.

“
Salve.
”
I pause for a moment
,
and decide to continue my next words with another Latin phrase,
“
Condemmant qui non intelligent.
”
  I slowly glance around the room, but it is so dark with the light shining down only on me, it makes it difficult to really see anyone.  So, I continue on with the sound of my alluring voice carrying around the room as if it is held by the goddess herself.

“
Let me translate my words for you
, they
condemn, who do not understand.  I am sure for most of you, that have completed your dedication ritual and through you
r
course studies, there is a variety of things you will soon discover in witchcraft.  You will find out that not only is it a religion, but
it
’
s
also a spiritual path for you.  With all the varieties of witchcraft you will also learn what resonates
with
you.  It will also matter what state of mind you are in and even what your current needs may be.  It will flow to you when it
’
s the proper time.
”
  Pausing, I peer down briefly and then I move around the podium.

I say in my trance-like tone,
“
When I was just a small child, my father use to sit with me for endless hours and tell me the origins of our words, so that I may have a better understanding for our kind.  He taught me how to dispel the misguided and the miss-judgments of the word
Paganism
.  If we study the etymology of a word we find the root meaning, so if you take the word
“
Pagan
”
. Y
ou will find that it derives from the Latin word
paganus
.  It simply
means
a country dweller.  As the years p
ass, the word Pagan soon evolved
to mean,
“O
ne that has no religious thoughts or beliefs
.
”
  I pause on that thought for a few moments and then walk slowly back around the podium.

“
For our kind, in the witch world we believe in the powers and blessings of all the gods and goddess
es
.
”
  As I speak the words I
raise
my hand delicately towards the grand statues that stand in the room surrounding us.
“
When the Christian faith became more dominate our ways were soon misconstrued, shaping and eventually twisting our ways, teachings that have been around since 3,000 BC documented by the Mesopotamians.  We became persecuted simply because we were different.  

We all have been give
n gifts and blessings from our g
oddess
,
Hecate allowing us to obtain the elements.  She has gifted us, just as she has gifted the animals in nature.  The fawn of a white tail deer has spots, allowing it to blend in with its own
environment;
it
s
use is for protection.  The Strix Nebulosa, the Great Grey Owl has the ability of hiding itse
lf by mimicking the tree it perched
in.  These animals among many others coexist within this world together for years, but unfortunately many have become extinct.  We are all meant to coexist together as one with nature and through our existence we have obtain abilities to survive.  With our unique elements we are taught to embrace it and to know its uses. Always remember
,
“
Ye harm none, do what ye w
ill.
”
  

I gather
my ending thoughts and begin saying,
“
We all have the experience of living in the mundan
e world and living now in the twenty-first
century.  One might even believe that the persecutions are long forgotten, but if that were the case then, why do we still
“
cloak
”
ourselves when we are among them.  Why do we hide our
natural born elements from them? It is b
ecause…we
must.
Our elders have lived in the most difficult times and have been able to survive which in turn teach us.  We will continue to teach others to protect ourselves and our loved ones.

The persecutions may not be open public hang
ings, drowning, or burnings any
more, but there still is afflictions happening here, and even in other countries, Africa, Kenya, and even Saudi Arabia where witches are being tortured to death.
”

I take a quick glance around the room and finish with,
“
Par
t of our code of e
thics, states; I do not modify my beliefs and convictions for the convenience of others because I rely upon being who I am.
”
  I give a knowing smile,
“
Nosce te ipsum.
”
I
speak the next words in my own voice,
“
S
o m
ote it
b
e.
”
I give a short nod to the witches in room, and shift out.

I
’
m about half way to the car when I feel Marc slide his hands around my waist from behind
me
.  I stop walking and start to turn when he leans down and whispers,
“
I
’
m impressed. So, here
’
s what I want to know.  How can I be the teacher
’
s pet?
”
 

I turn to him and say with a smirk,
“
Being a member of the
Arcane staff
, it would be highly improper to have favorites, but…
”
  I stand back from him and allow my eyes to travel seductively up and down his gorgeous body.  Flirtatiously, I say with
a
teasing smile,
“
You are kind of cute, what are you doing later?
”

I finally drive home and decide to finish my plans for a run.  I only have a few hours before I have to meet Marc again for our evening sessions.  I quickly change clothes and head for the path in the lush woods.  After I stretch I plug in my
iPod
and begin a slow pace along the cleared trail.

My run leaves me feeling wonderfully exhilarated, and I sprint up the stairs heading for t
he shower, and a
s usual, when I
’
m in the bathroom, my cell rings.  This time, however, I
’
m drying my hair and the ringtone plays out a newer James Bond theme and I know immediately it
’
s my dad calling.

“
Hey, you
’
r
e
back
,
”
I say in a relived tone.  He laughs and I can literally feel him smiling through the
cell
.

“
Well, it appears you have survived your, one of many lectures,
alive.
”
 

I
place
my hands
firmly
on my hips, pacing not that he could see,
“
One of many? What is that suppose to mean?
”
 

“
You know,
”
He says with a non-laughing tone.

Rollin
g my eyes
,
great
, now I
’
m his personal non- paid substitute at his beck and call.
 

“
Hey
Dad
, I
’
m meeting Marc for lunch, want to join us?
”

Twenty minutes later we meet my dad at a small Italian restaurant just a few miles down the road.

I can
’
t help
, but
notice the waitress
’s
roaming
, fluttery
eyes
over
my father
.  I mean he does have some similarities to Pierce Brosnan with the dark hair and features.  His eyes are the most mesmerizing electric blue I have ever seen thou
gh.  So, I just shrug it off. 

“
Alyssa, when is the party?
”
  Dad asks
casually
as he takes
a
drink of
his
red wine.

“
Party, what party?
”
practically choking on my Spinach Ricotta.

“
Your house warming party, y
ou need to call your mother for the guest list,
”
Dad
comments
placing his napkin next to his empty plate
and
giv
es
a slight beckoning wave to the young waitress for our ticket. 

“
Okay, I guess we will have a house warming party, and I w
ill call
Mom
for the guest list.
”
I
retort
gently wip
e
my mouth with my napkin
and
gl
ance over to Marc, intrigued.

“
Gre
at, glad to hear your having it,
”
Dad
says and
smiles at us both.

“
It will give you two a chance to meet the other witches from the Arcane.
”
 

I work diligently, on the party preparations for the
next
few weeks and by the expected date set, I believe we are finally ready.

Chapter 33

I come out of the shower and I notice a shimmering, sparkling ice trail before me.  As I follow my mysterious path, I see an assortment of different size
d
red and white candles set about the room.  My ice path ends at a pure white mink blanket lying on the floor in front of the burning, crackling fireplace.  Next to the mink are crystal bowls with fruit and a bottle of Diamant Bleu.  I pick up the bottle and read the vintage,
“
1907?
”

Marc shifts behind me, leaning over my bare shoulder, he points to the bottle I
’
m holding
and says,
“
That bottle of champagne has a mystical uniqueness like you do.  It has an incredible story of survival.  This very bottle was once chartered to
Sweden
, but never made it to its original destination because the ship was attacked and sunk by a German U boat.  It spent the next eighty years on the ocean floor.
”
He moves over me and touches the bottle with two fingers.  Ice forms around the bottle, frosting it perfectly.  Taking the champagne from my hand, he
casually
walks over to pour us each a glass.

I sit down on the mink rug, quickly remembering I
’
m still in just a towel.  Marc hands me my glass and joins me.  He
’
s wearing a white cotton tank exposing his tan muscular build and temping faded jeans. 

I
w
atch
every movement of his irresistible hands a
s he grabs the bowl of fruit. 
He
lies
down on his side, propping up on one elbow as he smiles.  
Oh, no
… my heart speeds up,
not that absolutely wicked smile of his, the one that can make me go from zero to sixty in two seconds
, I lay on my stomach, propped
on my elbows as I reach over and take a slice of kiwi from the bowl. Marc waits for me to finish and then feeds me a slice of a peach.