probed her. Lots of angst, but I couldn’t find any black energy. I leaned in, patted her leg and gave her a wink. “You can always claim the Devil made you do it.”
My stab at humor garnered me her serious wide eyes and a shake of her head. “It wasn’t the Devil. My family made me do it.”
Another display of crackles stood her curls on end. Yep, families could do that to you. Considering my only living relatives were Emilia and our neurotic grandmother who’d holed herself up in a nunnery in Romania, I felt an instant kinship with Liddy. “Mine’s less than stellar too. Don’t sweat it.”
“Your family, are they…you know…in the occult like you?”
“I have a sister who just went to the dark side.” I did my best Darth Vader breathing-through-a-mask imitation, but Liddy looked confused. I waved it off. “Emilia’s the reason I’m here, trying to go good again.”
“Why would you want to worship Satan in the first place?”
The question of the ages. I thought about Lucifer—his dark, brooding eyes, his skillful lips, his talented fingers. A shudder ran down my spine. The bad boy in him called to me, even here, sitting with Liddy and her poor battered fingernails and fried hair. “It’s hard to explain. Luc—that’s what he likes to be called—is sort of the, uh, ultimate seducer. Pretty damn hard to resist.”
Liddy’s eyebrows drew together as if she didn’t get it. Again, I wondered how many defects she could have. I tried an example. “You know in high school how all the girls moon over the hunky quarterback, but, in the heart of the night, yearn for the bad-ass biker boy?”
She tilted her head to one side and stared at me, thinking hard. “You mean like Dean Winchester in Supernatural ?”
Holey jeans and cocky attitude. “Exactly. You watch that show?”
Her eyebrows drew tighter. “Once. It was too scary for me, but I liked Sam the best.”
“Ah, the wounded-soul, reluctant-hero type.” I placed my hand over my heart and sighed deeply. “Hard to resist those, too.” Especially when seducing them was so entertaining.
A heavy energy settled over us. The witches on either side of our chairs had picked up on the thread of our conversation and were openly staring.
Liddy didn’t seem to notice. “But Satan hurts people. You don’t seem very mean.”
Again, the image of Lucifer rose in my mind, his lips curving up in a dangerous, seductive smile. Remembering the dark magic we’d performed together sent a tiny tingling through my veins. Like a trained dog, my thighs tightened in response. I coughed, tried to clear the image of Lucifer’s head between my legs, and squirmed. “The magic I did was for personal gain.” Deeply, deeply personal. I fanned myself with my hand. “I never hurt anyone but myself.” And, come to Momma, bad-ass biker boy, I wanted to do it all over again.
Except, probably at that very moment, Luc was making Emilia’s thighs squeeze the same way. My heart jerked inside my chest.
Liddy bit at a non-existent fingernail. “I hate my sister,” she said. Every body part I could see crackled. “I want to do her harm.”
The out-of-the-blue confession mirrored mine so perfectly, I sat back hard in my chair. It squeaked backwards on the linoleum floor. “Really. That’s…um…interesting.”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes bugging out behind the lenses. Her curls did the hula on top of her head. “Oh, my, God, I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Me either, but, hey, a girl’s gotta confess what a girl’s gotta confess, and Liddy obviously needed to get some of that crappy energy out of her system. “Your secret’s safe with me.” At her continued look of abject horror, I reached over and patted her knee again. “It’s okay, Liddy. We’ve all been there, wrestling with that blood-is-thicker-than-water stuff. It’s good to get it off your chest. The redemption thing, you know?”
“You.” The Witches Anonymous
My stab at humor garnered me her serious wide eyes and a shake of her head. “It wasn’t the Devil. My family made me do it.”
Another display of crackles stood her curls on end. Yep, families could do that to you. Considering my only living relatives were Emilia and our neurotic grandmother who’d holed herself up in a nunnery in Romania, I felt an instant kinship with Liddy. “Mine’s less than stellar too. Don’t sweat it.”
“Your family, are they…you know…in the occult like you?”
“I have a sister who just went to the dark side.” I did my best Darth Vader breathing-through-a-mask imitation, but Liddy looked confused. I waved it off. “Emilia’s the reason I’m here, trying to go good again.”
“Why would you want to worship Satan in the first place?”
The question of the ages. I thought about Lucifer—his dark, brooding eyes, his skillful lips, his talented fingers. A shudder ran down my spine. The bad boy in him called to me, even here, sitting with Liddy and her poor battered fingernails and fried hair. “It’s hard to explain. Luc—that’s what he likes to be called—is sort of the, uh, ultimate seducer. Pretty damn hard to resist.”
Liddy’s eyebrows drew together as if she didn’t get it. Again, I wondered how many defects she could have. I tried an example. “You know in high school how all the girls moon over the hunky quarterback, but, in the heart of the night, yearn for the bad-ass biker boy?”
She tilted her head to one side and stared at me, thinking hard. “You mean like Dean Winchester in Supernatural ?”
Holey jeans and cocky attitude. “Exactly. You watch that show?”
Her eyebrows drew tighter. “Once. It was too scary for me, but I liked Sam the best.”
“Ah, the wounded-soul, reluctant-hero type.” I placed my hand over my heart and sighed deeply. “Hard to resist those, too.” Especially when seducing them was so entertaining.
A heavy energy settled over us. The witches on either side of our chairs had picked up on the thread of our conversation and were openly staring.
Liddy didn’t seem to notice. “But Satan hurts people. You don’t seem very mean.”
Again, the image of Lucifer rose in my mind, his lips curving up in a dangerous, seductive smile. Remembering the dark magic we’d performed together sent a tiny tingling through my veins. Like a trained dog, my thighs tightened in response. I coughed, tried to clear the image of Lucifer’s head between my legs, and squirmed. “The magic I did was for personal gain.” Deeply, deeply personal. I fanned myself with my hand. “I never hurt anyone but myself.” And, come to Momma, bad-ass biker boy, I wanted to do it all over again.
Except, probably at that very moment, Luc was making Emilia’s thighs squeeze the same way. My heart jerked inside my chest.
Liddy bit at a non-existent fingernail. “I hate my sister,” she said. Every body part I could see crackled. “I want to do her harm.”
The out-of-the-blue confession mirrored mine so perfectly, I sat back hard in my chair. It squeaked backwards on the linoleum floor. “Really. That’s…um…interesting.”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes bugging out behind the lenses. Her curls did the hula on top of her head. “Oh, my, God, I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Me either, but, hey, a girl’s gotta confess what a girl’s gotta confess, and Liddy obviously needed to get some of that crappy energy out of her system. “Your secret’s safe with me.” At her continued look of abject horror, I reached over and patted her knee again. “It’s okay, Liddy. We’ve all been there, wrestling with that blood-is-thicker-than-water stuff. It’s good to get it off your chest. The redemption thing, you know?”
“You.” The Witches Anonymous
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