Page 115 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"What the fuck?" I said, watching as the ceiling opened up above me.
A ball of light appeared and plowed into my chest with such force, it took my breath away. I gasped, and time knocked back into its flow. The sand fell and so did we, onto the bed.
Panting and spent, Rick pulled out of me, rolling to his side and wrapping me within a cocoon of his body. He burrowed his face into the back of my hair. "I love you," he said into my ear.
I wanted to respond in kind. I wanted to say I loved him too. At that moment, I even felt like I did. But I wasn't sure if it was the magic or the memories or the fantastic sex. So I didn't say it. He didn't press for a response. He held me until it was obvious that we had to get back to business if we wanted to have any hope of saving Michelle.
But I found myself longing for five more minutes in his arms.
ke Magic Together
Mercifully, Logan wasn't in the attic. I didn't ask Prudence where he'd gone as I thought his absence was in his best interest. Instead, I threw myself into the task at hand, preparing for the ceremony that would help me save Michelle.
"Your magic is amplified by the night," Prudence said. Her nurse outfit was gone, replaced by a sequined green gown that reminded me of the Oscars. I guess this was a big deal for her. "With concentration, you can mold this attic to your will, but when the sun rises, all you have created will disappear. You won't be strong enouch to maintain it in the daylight."
I nodded. "We need a place for Michelle. I don't want her to be afraid if she wakes up in a strange place."
"Concentrate on the room you would like to create for her. Picture each object and will it here. You must visualize it, exactly, in your head. Any uncertainty and it won't come through."
The walls themselves were easy enough. I created them behind a door in the north wall. The apartment mystically expanded the size of the attic, an instant room addition. But the rest was more difficult. Don't get me wrong; the best part about having a magical attic is the decorating. Don't like the color of the linens? Just think of something new, and poof-there it is. I didn't have to move any furniture or go to any stores. Everything was free and exactly as I wished it. Only, even though I'd spent plenty of time at Michelle's, trying to picture her apartment down to the throw pillow was almost impossible. I made the room as close as I could to the real thing and placed Michelle/Marcus inside.
Then I started preparing for the ceremony.
"Are there any rules? Or do we just, like, do it?"
"It's your party, Grateful. You invite the caretaker into the attic, your most personal magical space." She stepped closer to me and placed her ghostly hand on my elbow. "Rick's magic is internal. It is part of who and what he is, in his very cells. Your magic is external; it is what you choose to be. The ceremony is in the choosing. You will choose to be the yin to his yang. Your power rests in him and in this house. He is the vessel."
I closed my eyes briefly. "I think I know what to do."
"One more thing. You will need this." Prudence approached a large wooden trunk near The Book of Light and retrieved a sword as long as my torso, the same sword as in my memory. "According to legend, the sword was made from the femur of St. Callistus, the patron saint of cemetery workers. It is as sharp as steel. You conjured it for yourself when you first came into your own power. Because it is a holy object, you can't touch it until you've accepted the responsibility that goes with it. If you do, it will burn your hand. However, once the sword knows you, no one else on earth or in the underworld will be able to wield it."
"Cool," I said, dumbly staring at the faint blue glow of the blade. Prudence held it out toward me. I conjured a small wooden table for her to rest it on.
"Now, I will give you some privacy." Prudence winked at me and dissolved.
I focused on the empty room. From the moment we'd met, I'd thought of Rick as a matador. I'd supposed that I was the bull. But I was wrong. We both were the bull, and we both were the bullfighter. Sex is akin to death in a way. It is the end of one stage in a relationship and the beginning of another. Something is given up when you have sex, and something is given to you. It's why I don't believe there is such a thing as casual sex.
Nothing about sex is casual. In the best situation, sex can create life, but more often it ruins lives. And so, it is a dance of trust. It is a dance of beauty and humility. It is a dance with death. Tonight, I would die to who I thought I was and become what I was meant to be.
I wore a red cape and nothing else. The floor was sand. The bed was red silk and velvet. Candles encircled the room by the hundreds, red, glowing things that provided the only light. A table next to the bed held the sword Prudence had placed there. When all was prepared, I invited Rick in.
He'd dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, but as he walked through the door to the attic, my magic changed him. Now, he wore a blood-red matador outfit, complete with beaded jacket and skintight pants that left nothing to the imagination. He wrinkled his brow as he looked down at himself.
I shrugged. It was my fantasy; I pulled the strings. His sultry smile told me he'd willingly resigned himself to his fate.
Rick strode into the arena with the grace of a dancer, a Baryshnikov in bullfighting gear. He circled me slowly, never taking his eyes off me. I backed away, the red cape wrapped around my body. When we'd completed the circle, I faced him head-on, wrapped one of my arms in the side of the cape and with a large, quick circle, flourished the fabric in front of my body. The effect was that Rick could see only portions of my nude flesh as the cape fell-the line of my neck, a shoulder, my breasts, my stomach, a hip, and the length of my leg-all before the red fabric swallowed me again.
Power flooded the room, a wild, tangible thing. Rick's tongue ran across his lips, and he started toward me, tentatively at first, but then his steps quickened. He reached for me and his fingers grazed the space between my breasts. I dissolved and appeared behind him on the other side of the arena, panting with desire. The move was effortless. The magic, part of me.
He turned toward me like a predator, lowering his chin and meeting my eyes through his lashes. His lips parted, and the corner of his mouth rose in a way that made me long to kiss the grin away.
I circled the cape again, slower this time so that each part of my body was etched into his memory. In the blink of an eye, he traversed the arena, his hands at my waist. Every cell in my body wanted to sink into his embrace. But not yet. His fingers passed through me as I faded. Across the arena, I appeared again, circling the cape as fast as he could turn to see it.
Rick was on me in an instant. This time, I allowed it. I kissed him, my tongue searching his mouth as I stroked him through the thinly stretched fabric at his groin. I noticed again how huge he was, definitely longer and thicker than any man I'd had before. Intimidating as it was, the feel of him in my palm made my heart race and my body clench with anticipation. I broke apart and reappeared across the arena, in front of the bed.
This time, when I circled the cape, I swept it off me and tossed it aside. And then I was flying. My feet had left the floor before the cape hit the sand. Rick's arms were around me, and we were falling, falling toward the bed. He rolled in the air, taking the impact of the fall and catching me on top of his body. I had a glorious moment of feeling my weight stretched out on top of him. Then he smiled and showed me a set of razor-sharp, elongated teeth. His jaw had lengthened, and his eyes were coal-black disks. This half-shifted state was the caretaker at his most powerful.
For a moment, it threw me, made me question my choice. But what had I expected? I'd known he would take blood. He waited patiently for me to make the next move, waited for me to process what was happening. I lowered my lips to his, darting my tongue between those long canines.
