The Sorceress (10 page)

As if being pulled by a magnet, Eris moved forward and out of his reach. He looked down at his knobby and swollen appendage
and howled in anger. Though his cry was within earshot, to Eris it seemed distant and muted. Creatures squawked and screamed, but the cacophony of hellish sounds had no effect on her.

In a dream-like state that was utterly blissful, she'd taken steps toward Xavier's whispery voice. “Over here,” he directed.

She turned her head in the direction of his voice and there it was—a bridge! A different one than before, but once again Xavier had teleported another link between his world and the Dark Realm.

Eris looked around. None of the creatures seemed to notice the wonderful overpass that could lead them all out of hell. Stealthily, she stepped onto the bridge, her bare feet slapping against the wooden planks, hurrying along before the ghouls tried to follow her out of hell.

Her level of joy bordered on euphoria.

“Stop rushing. Walk slowly. You're going to draw unwanted attention.” Xavier's voice, filled with disgust, hissed in her ear, ending Eris's euphoria.

“Am I going in the right direction?” she asked worriedly. She didn't want to relive the experience she'd had on the last bridge he'd constructed for her.

“No!” he spat. In his tone, there was strong insinuation that she was an incompetent fool. She loathed his arrogance but was at his mercy.

Obediently, Eris stopped. She turned around.

“Hurry!” he whispered. “Someone's coming.”

Below her, she saw a young woman staring at her in horror. Eris glared at the woman.
Busybody!

All color drained from the gawking woman's rosy cheeks and then she took off; stumbling and running in the opposite direction.

That's right. Scat!
Eris hustled along. Midway across the bridge and in what seemed like only a matter of seconds, the
wood beneath Eris's feet became creaky and swayed a little as if unable to support her.

Daring to look over her shoulder as she fled, she saw to her horror the expanse of wooden planks and side rails beginning to lose depth. Like a phantom, the bridge was slowly evaporating—disappearing before her very eyes. Eris ran as quickly as she could. She had to make it to the other side.

But the bridge cut off abruptly. Too late to halt her swiftly moving feet, she tumbled off the edge of the bridge. Out into the open air and into the abyss. Outraged that she'd been duped again, she screamed, outraged. Her strident scream that pushed from her throat blended perfectly with the nearby cries and howls.

Disoriented, she tried to collect herself and make out the shadowy environment. As her senses adjusted, she could smell the foul odor, she could see the thick, vaporous swirls that impersonated air, and she heard the demonic wails and the scratching and scraping sound of hooves trampling upon obsidian and soot.

Looking down, she saw all too vividly, the hoofed-like footprints made by her fiendish compatriots.

“Agh!” she cried. Unbelievably, she was back in the dank and putrid confines of her abominable prison of the Dark Realm. Her head turned left and then right, looking for the conduit out of hell. But try as she might, she could not locate the bridge. It was gone. She shook her fists! Xavier, the louse, was having mischievous fun at her expense.

Her abandoned sex partner was still sitting in the soot, murmuring in discontent as he scratched the scabs and barnacles that covered his now flaccid penis. Noticing Eris hovering over him, he looked up and gave her a cold grin; assuming she was gazing at his phallus with renewed interest.

Reaching for her with a clawed hand, he groaned an indication that he was ready to resume their macabre sex play. Spittle gathered in the corner of the beast's mouth as he speedily began to stroke himself to erection.

His cupped hand moved up and down his bumpy shaft, creating a friction that ruptured old wounds and bumps. Sticky yellowish secretions oozed, coating his gnarled hand, but the uncaring creature continued to work on a mighty erection.

But Eris, disappointed and furious, aimed a harsh beam of blue light at his prick, scorching it and adding another well-deserved lesion to his lumpy, scarred shaft.

T
he little boy sat in his booster seat at the dining room table. Scrambled eggs, pancakes, and turkey bacon filled a sectioned scoop-plate. Jen sat across from him, drinking coffee, and feeling agitated by his eerie presence as she turned the pages of the morning newspaper.

“More coffee?” Carmen's eyes held compassion. Her job was easy compared to Jen's.

Jen looked up from the newspaper. “Yes, thank you.” She forced a smile, though she felt aggravated and caged being stuck in the house with eerie Ethan while his parents jetted around the country without a care.

Carmen and the day maid, Lizzy, didn't even have a high school education; yet, their jobs were cushy compared to Jen's. Carmen had three days off every week and Lizzy left each day promptly at four.

But Jen was trapped day in and day out with Ethan. No one enjoyed being there. Not even the child's own parents. Ethan's presence was stifling and oppressive. The elegant residence surrounded by mature trees and manicured grounds seemed more like a penitentiary than a stately manor.

Jen was working around the clock. Why? A sense of obligation? No! She wanted to prove her loyalty and gain Senator
Provost's respect. She wanted him to realize she was completely competent. Not to mention, she wanted him to flirt with her a little and then assist her in ending the sex drought. Jen laughed to herself.

The crush she had on the senator involved sexual fantasies, but she'd never act on them. She wasn't the type to get involved with a married man. Her thing for the senator was her personal secret.

“The boy hasn't touched his breakfast,” Lizzy said, as she stood on a short ladder, wiping in circular motions as she polished the grandfather clock to a high shine. Ethan was prone to exhibiting violent reactions to the sound of his own name, and the staff, and even his parents, tried to avoid referring to him by his given name.

“Eat your breakfast,” Jen said half-heartedly and without bothering to look up.

“Do you think he'd rather have cereal?” Carmen inquired.

Jen shrugged. This time she didn't raise her eyes from the newspaper. She didn't care what Ethan ate. It wasn't in her job description to force-feed the little creep.

“Maybe he's thirsty,” Lizzy suggested.

“Drink your juice, kid,” Jen said, dryly; her face buried in the newspaper. A rustling sound from overhead drew her attention. Lizzy gave her a wink as she dug inside the deep pocket of her big wool sweater. She pulled out a white plastic bag and tossed it to Jen. “Miniature straws,” she explained. “Got 'em at the dollar store.”

Jen opened the pack and pulled out a straw. She looked at the bright red stripes and festive balloons and smirked. “Wow, this should put a big smile on the kid's face,” Jen said sarcastically.

“You never know,” Lizzy said defensively. “Those balloons
and bright colors might make his juice seem more appealing.”

“I doubt it.” Jen rose reluctantly from her seat. She went over to Ethan and tugged out the clear, ordinary straw that came attached to the side of the package of apple juice and replaced it with the colorful straw.

Ethan didn't move a muscle. He maintained a blank stare. Jen picked up the juice box and shook it in his face, enticingly.

Ethan finally reacted, but he didn't reach for the juice. He recoiled, tightening his lips.

“Okay, kid, you win. You don't have to work yourself into a fit.” Jen quickly set the apple juice down and made a face at Lizzy.

Lizzy held a hand up in surrender. “I tried.” She turned around and resumed shining the clock.

“That child is possessed,” Carmen whispered, running a finger over the silver cross that hung from her neck. Jen chuckled. “I spoke to my priest about the things he does—”

“You didn't!” Lizzy sounded shocked. “You know Ms. Provost doesn't want—”

“There's no rule against a parishioner making a confession to her priest. My relationship with God has precedence over that piece of paper that woman made me sign.”

A devout Catholic, Carmen held strong beliefs about a number of things. She'd hinted on several occasions that she thought Ethan was possessed. But she'd never expressed it with such conviction as now. Jen was shocked.

“I asked my priest if he could perform an exorcism on the boy while his parents are out of town, but he said he wasn't trained and, even if he were, he'd need the parents' permission.”

“Wow!” Jen exclaimed. It was a noncommittal expression. She wasn't actually agreeing that Ethan was possessed. Something was wrong with him…and it wasn't autism.

Taking care of a child who didn't talk her ear off with a million questions a day should have been easy, but it wasn't. In his own creepy, silent way, Ethan was a real handful.

Jen wished she had the nerve to call her supervisor at the agency and ask for another assignment.
Keep dreaming,
she told herself, knowing she'd have to look for a job with another agency if she left a power couple like the Provosts in the lurch. Who was she kidding? No other agency would hire her. Her name would be mud in the nanny industry.

Maybe she could find work in retail sales. Wal-Mart was always hiring, she'd heard. Oh, God. Why, why, why had she persisted in trying to cheat her way through school? She'd ruined her life.

Something had to give because she seriously doubted if she could stick it out with Ethan much longer. Since that incident with the woman on the bridge, Jen was feeling more freaked out than ever. The kid was so repulsive, his own mother barely acknowledged his presence.

God, she couldn't wait for Catherine to hurry up and become vice president. Jen wasn't going to let her off the hook; she'd promised to use her influence and get a prestigious job working for the senator.

Jen sighed. Catherine was full of it. She was dangling that job to keep Jen shackled to her vile son. Jen would make out better if she went straight to Senator Provost himself and told him about the agreement she'd made with his wife.

He seemed far more honorable than his wife. Jen's heart fluttered. The senator was so distinguished and handsome. Man, she had the hots for him. He'd always been polite and had never approached her in any manner that even mildly suggested that he found her attractive.

He was upstanding and completely professional. Jen would
never actually hit on the senator. His integrity was part of her attraction. She enjoyed having him as her sexual fantasy.

She was going stir crazy and missed being with her own age group. If she didn't get out and have some fun and get some good sex, she was surely going to lose her mind..

According to the Carmen and Lizzy, Jen had outlived all the former nannies. One of the nannies—a blonde with a boob job—was now the senator's personal assistant. That information made Jen green with envy.

Didn't she deserve some sort of compensation for her dedication and perseverance? She figured she deserved a much higher paycheck, as well as a monthly bonus, for putting up with eerie Ethan for as long as she had. A powerful man like Senator Provost could hand her a new career on a silver platter.

There had to be a way to get his attention and make him aware that he should start thinking of her as a…well…a colleague. Jen mused for a while. Then it occurred to her that the senator kept up a brave front and even joked with the press about being the “first guy,” but he was only human.

His wife's meteoric rise in politics had to be a blow to his male ego. Jen was more than willing to stroke his ego, if that's what it took to get out of this nanny position. Besides, she admired Senator Provost. She thought he was a nice guy and it wouldn't be like her “stroking” was insincere. Catherine was never at home.

Jen was sure the senator would appreciate having the attention of a woman while he was home. Nothing improper. They'd be pals who laughed together and talked. Of course, she'd have to bone up on politics before she began her campaign to be the senator's new BFF.

With her spirits lifted, Jen imagined becoming chummier with the senator. Being his confidante…oh hell, she'd be his gopher
and be proud of it. Any position had to be better than the one she currently held. Jen folded the newspaper and reluctantly turned her attention to Ethan.

As usual, he had a vacant look in his eyes. Then suddenly, he licked his lips and gave her a lingering glance. Jen gasped. Ethan's lecherous facial expression was more reminiscent of a dirty, demented man than a five-year-old child. She scooted back so forcefully, there was a loud screeching sound as her chair scraped against the hardwood floor. “Carmen!” she shouted.

Carmen rushed to the kitchen. She was carrying a colorful plastic bowl decorated with Disney characters and filled with sugar-coated cereal.