“So, you were kind of a dead end. Your mom was supposed to be able to help me find mine. What do we do now?”
“We summon the dead.”
The living room was emptied of the few pieces of furniture that was left in it. Terra swept the floors while Lance mixed salt and grave dirt into water, and used that to mop the floor. Once it was spiritually clean, though physically grimy, they both got on their hands and knees with chalk and drew out a large circle, surrounded by alchemical symbols, and then another circle around that.
Before she helped him clean the house, Terra went to the store and bought candles. All black. Calling the dead was a simple ritual, though things could go wrong easily. The complexity was in controlling the situation.
Black candles were powerful and amplified the magic in any spell where they were used, but they also warded against any malevolent entities that may wish to crash their séance.
“The floor needs to dry, and we have a few hours before midnight. Is there anything you want to do?” Lance asked, his eyes lingering on her face.
He looked like he wanted to do… something. She couldn't tell what, but it made her stomach flip.
“I'm wiped. Think I could take a nap on your bed?”
“Go ahead,” he said. She set her chalk down and left Lance to finish up the circle. She opened the door to his bedroom. The air smelled like him, and rosemary incense. A half-burned stick sat on the table next to his small bed, the burner sitting on top of a deck of tarot card.
His blanket was soft, and again it smelled like Lance. She buried her face into it, curious at how much she enjoyed his smell. Frustrated with how much she enjoyed it, too.
She closed her eyes, but not for long. She felt the bed move, shift under the weight of Lance joining her.
“Uh,” he said, noticing her eyes open and watching him. “Sorry, I just… I don't want to sleep on my mom's bed, and the couch is upside down in her room.”
“No, it's fine. Just don't make fun of me if I snore.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
He got under the blanket with her. His smell overwhelmed her. She wanted to turn away from the wall, to turn towards him and wrap her arms around him. She wanted it so badly, that after a few moments, she did. Her arms looped under his, around his chest and tightened. She felt his breathing push his ribs out. She felt his exhale. She felt his hair against her face. Every movement made her chest ache, her stomach flip more and more.
Lance turned to face Terra, and he cupped her face in his hands. There was nothing in her that resisted. His lips fell on hers, and it felt right. She pressed her lips against his, and it felt right.
She didn't want his lips to leave hers, ever. Lance no longer felt like a stranger, he felt like an old lover, like a comfort, like a long lost friend. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer to him. Her leg wrapped over his hip, pulling him closer to her.
His breath was hot in her mouth. Her tongue was hot in his. She bit his bottom lip. Lance groaned, groping her butt. He kneaded the cheeks, and then slid his hand up her dress. He grabbed her breasts, brushing the rough skin on his hands against her nipples. She gasped into his mouth.
Terra pressed her hand against his crotch, feeling his hardness growing. She rubbed it from over the fabric, coaxing it to grow more and more. He swore, telling her how good it felt.
She undid his pants and slid her hand into his boxers. The tip of his cock was already wet with precum. Lance slid his hand down her panties. She was already wet, too.
At Terra slowly moved her hand up and down his meat, Lance pressed a finger against her entrance. She widened her legs. His finger popped in, and she hissed. It hurt, first, but then he put in a second finger and it felt good.
It felt so good.
She came quickly, grunting and shivering against him. He pulled her panties down, throwing them onto his floor, and pulled her on top of him. He lifted her dress over her head. It also fell to the floor.
Her breasts, in Lance's opinion, were perfect. They filled his hands just right. He wanted to feel them, always in his hands. He wanted no other hands to ever feel them. He felt suddenly jealous, possessive.
He pulled her down and sucked on her breasts, hard and with teeth. She sucked in air and pressed her pussy against him. His cock was hot as it hit her clitoris. She rubbed back and forth as Lance pinched and bit her nipples, until finally she lifted herself up and sat down on his manhood.
He entered her slowly. They both breathed hard, and sighed as the full length of his cock was swallowed within her. “Ride me,” he said. She obliged.
Terra's hips moved slowly at first. She enjoyed the movement, the moment, looking into his beautiful eyes as she fucked him. And then she moved faster, unable to control herself. She was driving them both to climax.
Lance grabbed her hips, helping her to move faster still, until they both screamed and orgasmed at once. His seed spilled inside of her, filling her.
Their arms and legs tangled together as they shifted again, laying next to each other. There was no awkwardness. There was only peace, until there was only sleep.
“Have you ever done this before?” Terra asked. She was nervous. She had only called the dead once before, and her sister had nearly died because of it, when they were only five. She was also nervous because the taste of Lance's lips was still on her mouth.
“Actually, calling the dead is why my mother got the Medal of Honor. It's a family tradition, and I was raised doing this.”
Terra breathed a sigh of relief, helping Lance to place the black candles around the circle. So that was how she acted as a spy. She wasn't infiltrating the vampire cities of France where she could be corrupted. She was speaking with the dead! There were three candles in the center of the circle, where the spirit would form if the ritual was done correctly.
She watched him, eyeing his behind as he bent over to bless each candle he placed on the ground. It was amazing to Terra that everything about the night, from the sex to this ritual, had felt so natural to her. She wondered if there was fate involved, but then chastised herself. Fate was always involved. It was rare that their lives were entirely their own.
“Alright, that's the last candle. Are you ready?” Lance wiped some wax on his hands onto his shirt. He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“Hell yeah, let's do this.”
They sat in the circle, and Lance held his hands out to her. She grabbed them, and their arms formed a diamond around the three candles in the center of the circle. He closed her eyes, and so did she. They both silently repeated the prayer to call Elaninri Fleaas from her resting place, to join them for a few moments.
They waited, and there was nothing, until suddenly there was a scream. Terra jumped, and Lance's mouth fell open in horror as the flames grew and the apparition of his mother formed.
He was supposed to ask her where to go, what to look for, but his mouth wasn't moving. They didn't have long. Terra held his hands tight.
“Elaninri, where is Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Her eyes flicked to Lance. He was horrified.
There were only screams, ear piercing screams that drilled into one's heart.
“Where is Queen Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Terra repeated.
Finally, the apparition spoke through the scream. “Find The Great Sage!”
And the apparition was gone. Lance slumped forward as all the candles went dark. Terra broke the circle by wiping away the chalk with her bare foot and flicked the lights on to find him sobbing, his whole body shaking. “She's being punished even in death! She's being punished for something she didn't do!”
He turned his face up to her, tears falling from his chin. She ached, she ached everywhere, wanting, somehow, to heal his pain. Wanting to kiss his lips. Wanting to be his savior.
She didn't know how to comfort him, so she didn't. “Come on, you can mourn later. For now, we have to prepare. We have a mountain to climb.”
Terra took his hand and helped him up, pulling Lance into a tight embrace. They kissed until his tears stopped.
Chapter Three
Terra and Lance's faces were stinging and red from the cold. Neither were prepared for the steep climb up Varangoi Mountain, despite Terra insisting on buying warmer clothes and gear for both of them.
Lance had protested using her money, but she wouldn't let him say no. She felt responsible to him. Plus, he looked cute in the turtleneck sweater she gave him.
Her thoughts swirled with passions and emotions, things she kept to herself and some things she kept from herself. The way his fingers felt when they brushed a snowflake from her face, for instance, made her warm even in the frigid cold. The way his eyes watched her, ready to move if she fell on sharp rocks, made her feel safe. The way he touched her as he helped her up onto a ledge made her feel wanted, and left her wanting. Needing. Desiring.
While her mind was still focused on her mother, her heart was focused on him, and it confused her. If it came to a choice of finding Queen Anai, or keeping Lance alive and near her, which would she choose? Which would he want her to choose?
She wondered, too, if he had the same questions. Would he avenge his mother if it meant Terra must die?
She shuddered and continued walking on the path up the mountain. Jagged and broken, it wasn't a well-worn path. Few climbed Varangoi, the largest mountain of the Kylfing Mountain Range. This was for a few reasons.
One, the range stood between Mindren and France. France was the stronghold for Vampires, where they were more like a plague and nearly outnumbered humans. They still kept their existence secret, but only barely, and only because they used slaves to keep their blood lust out of the public eye.