Dimitri’s hand held mine, tugging me along, his calluses rubbing against me, causing the most delicious sensation against my skin. I gritted my teeth, fighting the desire that swept through me everytime he was within close proximity. I hated that I kept having to remind myself that he was a jackass - that he was mafia - that he had killed people. Somehow, when he was in my space, all of those facts seemed to fall away. I was aware of his measured breaths, the way they changed when he was angry. I was aware of his locked jaw, when he was fighting the urge to punch something. And, I was far too aware of where his hands were placed on my body.
I hadn’t missed the look of outrage he gave Ravi when he was flirting with me. I shouldn’t like it, I shouldn’t enjoy the fact that I had dug my claws beneath Dimitri’s surface, but I did. Because after his hand had been on my thigh at the charity dinner, I found it difficult to think about anything else. In fact, it seemed my mind had space for only two consuming thoughts - Magick and Dimitri. To prove my point, my phone chimed as we finally emerged from the club, standing on the sidewalk - it was probably my mother - I had a bunch of unopened texts from her and I knew that if I didn’t reply soon, she’d send in the cavalry.
I was so tired of pretending though. So tired of smiling and feeding my mother the usual lines, and being around Dimitri just made me feel even more like a fraud - more exposed somehow.
Dimitri’s hand tightened around mine as he tugged me further down the block. I blinked back my surprise - weren’t we supposed to be getting into the car? And before that thought had a chance to fully take root, Dimitri was tugging me down an ally, pushing me solidly against the old stone wall that cobbled between my shoulderblades.
It reeked of day old fish and piss, and yet, those smells somehow became secondary with Dimitri’s green eyes flashing down at me, his scent enveloping me in a way that no one else’s had.
My breathing quickened and I hoped he didn’t notice. His eyes grazed across my mouth, and as if in invitation, my tongue swept my bottom lip, welcoming him to taste me. What was wrong with me?
I couldn’t think straight when it came to him, which was problematic, because I needed clear guidance right now of their dilemma.
I didn’t think it was possible, but Dimitri somehow pushed me deeper against the wall, his knee edging between my legs, my short golden skirt made the movement easy for him. His finger tips grazed my thigh, just below my skirt and I sucked in my breath in anticipation, an involuntary sigh escaping me.
Dimitri smirked knowingly, he bent his head towards me and it was all I could do to not get lost in the scent of him, the feel of him as he pressed into me against the wall. His nose grazed my earlobe, and suddenly his gutteral voice whispered in my ear.
“Did you like the way Ravi was looking at you?” he growled.
I couldn’t answer past my rapidly beating heart.
He waited a beat before he continued, my body quivering in anticipation.
“I’m going to tell you this once,” he swept his hand up from my thigh, running his index finger along my neck. I shivered. Dimitri wasn’t a boy who didn’t know what he was doing, he was a wolf playing with his food, only this time, I didn’t mind being served up as his meal - not if it felt like this.
“Don’t fuck any of my men.”
I pulled back from his touch, his words more effective than a shock of ice water.
“Fuck. You.” I punctuated, my voice breathy and short, my body wired and wet with just the hint of his touch.
He grinned at me knowingly, “Not tonight.”
He stepped back suddenly and I had to splay my hands against the wall for balance, lest I fall flat on my face in New Orleans. I wouldn’t have been the first.
The thing about Dark Magick was that it could only be countered with something equally dark or worse. That light countering the darkness line we were fed as kids? It’s utter bullshit, and makes zero sense.
Voodoo was inherently dark. Sure, Zoey went out of her way to practice Light Magick, but that didn’t take away from her roots, and the root of her Magick lay in the ability to concoct spells to control people - not simply outcomes, and when you took someone’s agency - their freedom away - that was when the lines of Magick became blurred - when Light Magick shifted in the muddy waters, darkening with each step of control you flexed.
Sergei and his Priestess essentially tied Olek in as a blood sacrifice. A human death was hard to top and something none of us had dabbled in - or at least, I think none of us dabbled in it, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that everyone has their secrets. Do we ever truly know someone when we can’t ever truly know ourselves?
I had no idea how to top a human death - what would I need to sacrifice? Shit. I needed to speak to Charl - maybe this was the point in which we extracted ourselves?
Even in the light of a new day, that thought weighed heavily on me - I hated that I had somehow missed the fact that Olek’s death would serve as the sacrifice that activated their spell - If I had picked that up, perhaps Olek would still be alive. Sorrow blanketed my shoulders and I had to fight the urge to sink down in self-pity, beating the floor with my fists in a rage.
Instead, I dialled Charl. It took three rings before he answered.
“Corinne,” his voice sounded clipped and controlled.
The methodical sound of notes beating against the table told me that he was counting money. The Club had probably been paid out for some job and he was playing accountant. I didn’t hesitate though - Charl was one of those rare creatures who would count money and simultaneously hold a conversation, plus, I was worried that if I didn’t just plough ahead and say my piece, I would lose my nerve.
“We need to walk away from this job,” I hurried forward.
Charl’s answering sigh grated on my every nerve ending. It was the type of exasperated sigh that a parent gave a child that continuously whined.
“Charl,” I bit out, “I am dealing with a Voodoo Priestess who has tied a human sacrifice to activate a spell, and Dimitri killed the guy that the spell was tied to. Stop sighing at me as if I’m being dramatic. We’re in over our heads here and I’m telling you that we need to extract ourselves from this situation.”
Charl hummed by way of reply, sounding bored, and it took everything I had to not smash my phone into small tiny pieces. Was he walking the line of madness? What the hell was going on?