Scryer (7 page)

Then he cracked a grin and everything
seemed to revert to normal, time moved again, and I could breathe. My hand was
grasped firmly in his. “Come, Ivy. We had better go quickly. We have a lot of
drinking to do to become happy once more.” He pulled me along beside him, and I
was forced to run.

“Why aren’t you happy?” I called to him
as our shoes crushed the dry leaves beneath us and the threatening darkness of
night loomed around us.

He looked back at me with a smile. “It’s
a secret, Ivy. I have to drink more before I tell you all my secrets.”

He never did tell me though. I had to
figure them out for myself. I never saw him that drunk or crazy again either.
That night, he led me to a dark bar filled with unsavory people who were down
on their luck, and for once, I felt fortune shine on me. I felt light and free,
and perhaps that was how my infatuation with Lake began.

He walked me home as dawn began to rise.
It felt so strange to walk out of the dark of the bar and into the light. With
my hand tucked into his, I felt special instead of odd, like neither of us
belonged here but not in a bad way. When we arrived outside of my building, all
I really wanted to do was drag him inside and strip him naked so I could
explore every inch of him, to taste him and savor him. But for some reason, I
felt shy. As if doing what I yearned to would ruin that perfect night that we
had just spent together, as if we had something chaste and pure, and to
introduce the carnal would be like breaking a spell. Of course, I wouldn’t find
that out until much later that it would be true.

I was graced with a kiss on the cheek,
and then he was gone, taking the magic of the night with him, and I was left
alone with no promises on a deserted street with winter looming grimly in the
distance. Days passed with no sign of him, and then one day, I came home, and
there he was sitting in our tiny apartment charming Penzance.

My heart stopped and I couldn’t seem to
exhale the breath that I had just taken. Penzance, in her short skirt and tight
top, was practically purring; her body language placed all her attention on
him. His eyes flicked up to where I stood in the doorway.

He didn’t smile, and that was all right
because seeing him sober, I realized that his face was the type on which smiles
seemed wrong. They interrupted his perfection and intensity and made him appear
so very human, when in fact he seemed modeled on a god of ancient lore and it would
be fitting that he would remain as motionless and perfect as carved marble.

“Hello, Ivy. I’ve been out of town since
I saw you last. I thought that I’d swing by.” And then his face broke into the
most wonderful smile and I could forgive him for breaking that inhuman idea
that I had of him.

Penzance twisted her head to me and
mouthed, “Lucky bitch,” with glee on her face. She stood, smoothing her skirt
down, and she gave me a knowing look as she left the room. Lake’s eyes didn’t
follow her; they remained solely on me.

“Hi,” I breathed, struggling to accept
that he was really there in front of me, just as I had struggled to understand
how infatuated I had become with this person that I had met only once.

What did we do that day? We walked
mostly, beside the river, before dining in a restaurant with a view of the
city. I didn’t ask for a last name, nor did I tell him mine. My normal reserved
self evaporated in his company as if he had cast a spell that I was powerless
against. We spoke of nothing important, nothing personal, and in the early hours
of the morning, when dawn was not far off, he escorted me home and left me
again with just another chaste kiss.

I had never believed in soulmates,
barely love even, however, the way I felt around this person who was a stranger
suddenly made me finally understand. He invaded my thoughts like a disease in
my brain, and I could think of little else.

But then later, with the benefit of
hindsight, once the truth was revealed, the horrible thought occurred to me
that perhaps the attraction was because of
who
he was. The Corin blood
that pumped through him perhaps acted like some kind of elixir, transforming me
into a girl who was addicted to being around him, a girl who thought she was in
love with him…

The idea of me being so attracted to the
Corin bloodline was in itself enough to want to make me cast myself into the
river with only the poisons running in its waters able to cleanse me of that
disease.

Danilo
sang on the way back home.  He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm
to his out of tune voice as he took each turn smoothly. The dour depression
that had befallen him on our way to the house had lifted the moment we began to
drive away.

“Dorothea must have done something
right,” I observed, jealousy at his happiness coursing through me. I felt tapped
of all energy by the ritual, whereas he seemed infused with vitality.

He shrugged while a small smile spread
on his lips. “What can I say? She may be a bitch but when her mouth is wrapped
around my—”

“Shut up. Don’t put that repulsive image
in my head,” I said sourly, looking out the window rather than observe his
smugness. The vision of them did enter my head anyway. Dorothea liked to wear
expensive undergarments, exquisitely detailed, with boning in them that made
them seem like armor. I imagined her kneeling there in that underwear, smiling
because she may have been on her knees, but she was definitely the one in
charge, before taking him in her mouth like a cat playing with its prey.

He continued to sing the whole way home,
even when his car stalled at the traffic lights and other drivers began to honk
their horns behind us. He didn’t dare turn off the engine as he dropped me off
outside my apartment building for fear that it wouldn’t start again. I grabbed
my bag and barely said goodbye as I slammed the car door shut. He gave a wave
and drove off with a jerky start that didn’t collapse the smile on his face.

I watched him until he drove out of
sight. He was a traitor…and a fool. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I started
up the stairs. It was a nice apartment building in comparison with some others
in the city, but whenever I came from the Corins’ mountain hideaway it seemed
so poky and small. The flights of stairs made me feel even more exhausted, and
I let myself smile as I finally turned the key in the lock.

The door swung open to reveal the living
area. Penzance must have entertained the night before. Pizza boxes lay on the
coffee table along with several empty wine bottles, lipstick stained glasses,
and of course, Penzance’s fucking pink candles. She hadn’t bothered to place
them on plates; instead they sat on the wood of the coffee table, their wax
gluing them in place.

I sighed and dropped my bag to the
floor. I couldn’t just leave this mess. But as I reached to gather the dirty
wine glasses, I heard a moan and then a rhythmic thumping that steadily
increased in speed. Penzance, apparently, was still entertaining. Fantastic.

I retracted my hand. Let her clean up.
Snatching up my bag I stomped loudly to my own bedroom, not sure why I was so
angry. Was it because Penzance had someone to give her comfort, even though just
for a night? Or was it because Danilo found pleasure knowingly with one of
them
and instead of feeling the usual resentment, embraced it.

As I sat down in my pale room, devoid of
all personality except for the boxes, I suddenly felt very lonely. Seeing Lake,
no doubt, had fucked me up. I had always been a loner. It had been easier that
way, even amongst other scryers. I didn’t
need
people. I didn’t depend
on anyone but myself. Until Lake, I realized. With him I had let down my guard
and opened myself up as if discarding armor from my body. That had enabled him
to all but shove a sword right into my heart.

Through the walls, I heard another door
squeak open, and then the laughter of lovers. What were they doing? Getting
something to eat to refresh and refuel them for their next energetic session? I
bit down hard on my lip. Yeah, I was definitely jealous.

Reaching for my phone, I scrolled down
the very limited list of names in my contacts until the name Caleb came into
view. I hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the night that he had punched
out the octopus man for me. Sighing, I quickly sent him a text. He was the
perfect option really—there would never be the pretense of anything else
between us; only carnality.

His reply came some hours later, during
which time Penzance’s lover had left, and she had made a half-hearted attempt
to clean up before groaning and retreating to her room to get some more sleep.
It was dark when he turned up, leering at me from the doorway smugly with a
bottle of red wine in hand. I took it from him without a word, not sure if I
were salivating more for the wine or for him. Grabbing two glasses, I led the
way to my bedroom.

He stripped off his clothes as I poured
the wine. Lifting my eyes to glimpse at him, I took in his tanned, muscled
chest. It would have been easier, more satisfying somehow, if he had been fat.
If he had a body that resembled some soft white lump of dough, then I could
have molded him to what I wanted and made him worship me. But it would have
also enhanced my sense of self-loathing to let someone whom I found
unattractive paw at me and take me in any way they chose. As it was, Caleb was
too handsome, too hard, and he knew it. There would be no manipulation here.

I turned my back on him and sipped my
wine. Who was I kidding? Just looking at him made me horny. He came up behind
me, and his hands came around me to cup my breasts firmly while his groin
rubbed against my bottom. My nipples began to harden under his attention, and
he squeezed my breasts harder, letting his thumbs rub where my nipples began to
protrude through the fabric of my bra and thin top.

He laughed softly. “What a dirty girl
you are,” he whispered. His words made me moisten, and although this was what
he was here for, it made me uncomfortable, like he thought he was in control.

“Don’t talk,” I ordered. “I don’t want
you to talk.” I tried to turn to face him, to take control, but he wouldn’t let
me, instead his fingers began to pinch at my rock hard nipples, and I felt his
hot breath on my neck.

“No, it’s my turn to boss you around.”
His warm mouth fell to the base of my neck, closing down on my skin and drawing
my flesh into his mouth. I felt teeth, like I was being marked. A tingle went
up my spine at the deliciousness of his mouth on me, and I wished that it were
lower down.

“I want you to—”

A hand had snaked under my top and into
my bra. Without the protection of the material, his fingers could secure a good
grip on my sensitive flesh, and he twisted my nipple with a viciousness that
sent a shiver of both pain and pleasure through me.

“You’re not to speak unless I say, Ivy,”
he said gently, not releasing his iron-like grip on me. “You called me to come
because you’re a horny, dirty girl who’s only going to be satisfied with my
cock between your legs, and if you don’t obey me, I might just leave you
hanging. Understand?”

My eyes narrowed at his nerve, but I
couldn’t ignore my practically drenched panties and the throbbing between my
legs. I nodded slightly, and felt him grin against my skin in response.

His hands disappeared from me, and I
turned to look at him questioningly. Still smirking, he took a sip of his own
wine and went to lie on the bed. I went to follow, but he shook his head. “No.
I want you to stand right there and do exactly as I say.”

So I stood there as his eyes raked over
me. But this wasn’t the objectification that I suffered from with the Corins. I
saw lust and desire in his eyes, and it excited me.

Finally, he said, “Put your wine down
and take your top off, Ivy.”

I did so, feeling beautiful and proud of
my body. He indicated for me to remove my jeans so that I stood before him in
just my bra and panties.

“Now, sit up on the dressing table.” He
lounged there on my bed like he was watching a show, which, I guess, he was. I
gently moved my boxes aside and lifted myself up to sit on the center of it.
“Lift your legs so you can hold them to your chest.”

I nearly flushed at the intimacy of that
position, but I did it regardless, without a word. Holding my thighs up to my
chest, it exposed my panty-clad pussy. If I hadn’t been wearing underwear, all
of me would have been on display for him.

I waited like that, my hands under my
thighs. The position was uncomfortable, but I would keep to it. This was almost
a challenge, and I was dying to see what he would do next. I made sure that my
eyes met his so he would know that nothing he said or did would cow or shame
me. His eyes raked over me again.

“I like you like this, it’s as if you’re
on display for only me.” He casually stood from his lounging position, careful
not to spill wine as he walked over to me. Taking the glass, he lifted it to my
lips and I drank, the liquid spilling over my lips. “Good girl,” he whispered
as he set the glass down. Then he began to touch me, finally. His smooth hands
ran over my legs, up and down the length of my inner thighs, each time coming
closer and closer to my panties. I shifted slightly, trying to gain some
friction from the cloth that covered my aching clit. I wanted him to touch me
desperately. I could have thrown down my legs and demanded that he screw me
right there and then, hard and fast, but whatever he was doing was turning me
on, and for just that moment, I would leave myself in his hands.

“Now,” he said softly. “I want you to
tell me what you fantasize about when you touch yourself each night.”

My eyes widened slightly before I could
catch myself and keep my face calm, but then I gave him a narrowed gaze and
shook my head.

His lips curved up slightly in response.
“Really, Ivy? You don’t strike me as the shy wall flower type. I think that
you’re proud of your body and your prowess, and so you should be.” His hands
never ceased their stroking, teasing, and tantalizing; they were driving me
crazy. He leaned in closer to speak in my ear. “It’s just you and I here. I
want you to let go. Stop being so strong all the time and let your body do what
it wants.”

I took a few deep breaths. What would I
say? For so long it had been Lake that was the object of my fantasies—his
beautiful lips, his high cheekbones, those strong arms, that slim, yet muscled
body…

And when reality had come, that night
had lived up to my fantasy until the end, when it turned into a nightmare.

But of course, I couldn’t tell Caleb
that.

I met his eyes. “You want to embarrass
me?”

His hands stopped. “No. I just want to
be in control. I want you to be out of your comfort zone so I really get your
body, so that I get
you,
guard down and vulnerable for once.” He kissed
my cheek. “So Ivy, go on and tell me. Tell me your wettest, dirtiest dream.”
His hand brushed lightly over my panties in such a way that he knew would be
torturous. My hands still held my thighs spread so he must have known how
tempted I was.

I licked my lips and took a breath. “All
right then.”

And I began to lie.

It was someone else’s fantasy. Perhaps I
had seen it in a movie or read it in a book. “I’m in some deserted, barren
place with a natural pool carved into rock. I’ve been hiking, and I’m so hot
and dusty. No one else is around so I take off all my clothes to sunbathe. I
let them fall beside the pool before I stretch out on a large flat rock.” His
hand brushed against my panties again, and it drove me crazy. “After a while,
I’m feeling so warm and sleepy, so content, that I let my hand fall between my
legs and start to play with myself a little bit. Slowly at first, I just stroke
lightly. I’m so embarrassed to be doing something so desperate, but I’d gone
without sex for a while and was dying for some relief. It feels so good though
that I close my eyes and let my fingers plunge in and out of me. No one is
around and I think that there’s no chance of ever being caught.” I closed my
eyes as his hand started to circle me through the panties.

“Don’t stop talking. If you stop, then
so do I, and I’ll tie your hands so you won’t be able to get any relief for the
rest of the night. Understand?” I could tell he was smiling and nodded before
continuing.

“Soon, I forget where I am. All I can
think about is getting myself off. But then something blocks my light, and my
eyes fly open. Standing over me is some kind of cowboy. He wears the hat but is
shirtless.” Caleb pressed harder against me and I sucked in a breath. “He’s all
tanned with his skin shiny with sweat. His horse is tethered to a tree, eating
grass. I sit up in alarm, crossing my arms over my chest. In his hands, he’s
holding my clothes. I tell him to give them back, but he just laughs and shakes
his head and says, ‘Not until you finish. Every time you cum you get one item
of clothing back.’

Caleb’s hand delved down into my panties,
and I let out a slight moan of satisfaction as I tried to grind against his
hand from my awkward position. “And then—and then I do it,” I said hoarsely,
“because I was in the middle of nowhere and didn’t want to have to walk out of
there naked. I lie down again and let my hand resume where it had left off. I’m
so aware of him hovering over me that at first it’s hard to get going, but then
I feel the familiar shivers as I start to build up to cumming. I’m so
embarrassed and sure that my face must be beet red, but I cum violently,
swearing and moaning as I do while the cowboy stares at me with a satisfied
smirk. As I lay there, recovering, he throws an item back to me. I catch it and
see that it’s just a bandanna, no good for covering anything. ‘That’s not
fair,” I tell him, but he just shrugs and motions for me to masturbate again. I
do, and manage to cum even faster this time. I’m dripping with sweat and
absolutely exhausted by the heat and my exertions. The cowboy takes pity on me
and dips my bandanna into the water and begins to wipe at the sweat on my
forehead, before dragging the cloth down to pay each of my breasts attention. I
find that I get horny again,” I rasped as I felt myself began to clench, “and I
beg him to…”