There were candles all around the room – black and silver. And in the middle of the space there was a heavy wooden table that looked like it could seat a dozen people. The table, however, wasn’t set for Christmas dinner. It contained only a pewter chalice and a mean-looking bone-handled dagger. Finn moved close to her and slid an arm around her shoulder. ‘Jill, we need you to lie down on the table.’
‘Fuck!’ A wave of cold fear struck her hard in the chest and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. With a yelp of panic, she broke and lunged toward the stairs. No way was she being the sacrificial lamb! But Meinrad blocked the way, and running into Meinrad was like running into a solid wall.
Finn followed her gaze to the knife on the table. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jill, you can’t really believe that …’ He ran a hand through his hair and then picked up the dagger. ‘It’s an athame, a ceremonial knife used in magic, and trust me, it won’t be used to draw blood.’
Chelsea offered her an elfish smile that was probably meant to reassure her, but it felt just this side of laughing at her. ‘No human sacrifice necessary, we promise.’
Then Meinrad moved forward until she was once again nose to chest with him, and finding it impossible not to notice that the flexing of tattooed biceps made the dragons appear to be breathing. ‘Look, do you want to be rid of Eleanor or not? Because time’s wasting.’
‘I do,’ Jill said. ‘Of course I do.’
‘Then lie down on the altar and let us get on with it, will you?’
Chapter 6
Feeling self-conscious and still not overly keen about the mean-looking dagger, Jill did as she was told. When she was flat on her back, Finn smoothed the hair away from her face and smiled down at her. ‘Don’t worry, Jill. It’ll be all right.’ He was so sincere, so why didn’t she believe him?
She’d had nothing to eat since breakfast. She felt groggy, disoriented, as though she were experiencing the world through a fog. She doubted the tequila had helped the situation much, and she was thankful that Finn had stopped her before the count of shots had escalated. But then again, how sober did she really want to be for an exorcism?
The three members of Sole Alliance were saying some strange stuff about the four directions, and something about calling in the powers that lived in those directions, and Finn raised the bad-arse knife over her head. It was possible that she might have screamed – just a little – before he calmed her with a soothing touch and put the athame-jiggy aside. When the stuff about the four directions was finished, Chelsea passed the pewter chalice around, and everyone had a sip of whatever herby-smelling concoction was inside. Jill felt like she was being bathed in champagne with bubbles effervescing and bursting all around her, and the majority of them were nuzzling and caressing her still-aroused pussy.
Then the chanting began. She thought they were speaking English, and yet she couldn’t understand a word. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t think. She might have drifted in and out of a weird dream state, a state in which she felt as though she were lying on the table in the arms of a woman. She woke with a start expecting to find Chelsea nuzzled up against her, but Chelsea was still in her place, standing at Jill’s left side, her eyes closed, her lips moving rapidly. And yet Jill felt the strange embrace. She could see Finn standing at the head of the table, looking down on her. She could hear his voice in the chanting chorus, and it sounded somehow like there were more than just the three of them. It made no sense, and the woman’s embrace was still there, pillowing her head against soft full breasts that she found herself longing to suckle and caress. But there was no one there, only her, laid out on the table like an insane person.
Insane she might be, but she could see every bead of sweat breaking on Meinrad’s forehead. She could see the shape of his erection straining to attention in his trousers, and she couldn’t help wondering if it were in proportion to the rest of him. She had a feeling that it was. In fact she was certain of it, though she didn’t know how she knew. And she didn’t know how she knew that it was thoughts of plunging into her that were making him so hard and uncomfortable. Jill had to admit the thought of riding something so big was not at all unpleasant.
The smell of arousal was all over Chelsea and, though Jill was certain Chelsea had had both men in the past, it wasn’t desire for either one of them that was exciting her at the moment. Jill knew the woman wanted desperately to lick her, not just to taste the arousal of another woman – Jill was pretty sure she’d done that lots of times – but it was Jill she wanted to taste, Jill she wanted to eat. And frankly, she wouldn’t mind, not even a little bit. Had she ever been turned on by a woman before? She didn’t think so, but then she’d never really thought about it. Still, it was easy for her to imagine kissing those lovely tight breasts, small and high and no doubt the colour of rich milk chocolate. In fact, she really didn’t need to imagine. She knew.