A Nameless Witch

27

Wyst's btood tasted evensweeter than I'd expected.

I en joyed a drop, gained in a moment when my passion and carnivorous lusts caught me unaware, and I'd nibbled his ear too sharply. It was the only slip. Though at the heights of our rapture, visions of rent flesh did flash through my mind. The carnal pleasures overwhelmed my appetite. Mostly.

Wyst put a hand to my grumbling stomach. The dark of his fingers against my alabaster skin seemed a perfect contradiction. We were so different on the surface, yet so much alike.

"Do you regret it?" I asked. "The loss of your virtue?"

He put fingers to my chin and raised my face to his. "If I'd regretted it, I would've stopped after the first time. And my virtue isn't lost, only my chastity."

His lips graced my forehead. I kissed him and my hand danced down his thigh.

"Again? You really will kill me."

I smiled. He didn't know how right he was. With my curse, I could do just that. I could hold him in this bed and stoke his fires over and over again until every last ounce of his life burned away. The danger of that was a long way off. Wyst was a healthy specimen, possessed of enough stamina to survive a week or two in my dangerous embrace.

I slipped over him and nibbled on his lower lip. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed me tight against him. My stomach roared, no longer to be neglected. I found the strength to roll away. It was easier knowing he would still be here when I got back. I put on my gown and paused at the door just long enough to cast a sidelong glance at him lying there. Any more would have been too much temptation.

Penelope waited in the hall. She didn't say anything, not in her unspoken way, but she did peek in the room to make sure Wyst was still alive. My shadow danced along the walls. It twirled and frolicked, often leaving my feet to caper playfully along the ceiling.

Downstairs, Gwurm was asleep by the fire. The fox dozed in his lap. Newt sat on the table, nestled among gnawed duck bones. He raised his head and frowned.

"As you're not covered in blood, I assume you didn't kill him."

"Sorry to disappoint you." I took a seat and glutted myself on every piece of uncooked meat I could reach. I was hungrier than I'd realized. Absolutely ravenous. This wasn't the meal my appetite desired, but flesh was flesh.

"What's the sense of robbing a White Knight of his purity if you don't bother killing him?" said Newt. "It's like running down a deer and then letting it go. I hope it was worth it, throwing aside your witchly ethics."

I finished sucking down a turkey leg. "I have seduced a White Knight, exposed the mortal man for all the world to see, and he doesn't resent me for it. Not only that, but I've tasted forbidden pleasures of the flesh and learned something about myself. I can't think of anything more witchful than this."

"Your mistress would disagree."

"I doubt that very much. It was by her design that this night came to pass."

"Vengeance is our quest."

I laughed. "Vengeance or death lay at the end of this journey, but not every journey is about the destination."

He yawned and perked up his head. "Can I kill him then?"

He already knew the answer.

"Senseless," he grumbled.

The tapestry of Soulless Gustav spoke up. "I quite agree." The sorcerer stepped from the cloth. He kept his flatness. It suited him as even in three dimensions he was a slight figure. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I have to go with the duck. It's bad form to not take advantage of a White Knight after you've, well, after you've taken advantage of him. It's ex­pected."

"A good witch does the unexpected."

"Excellent point, my dear witch with the unspoken name." He strolled to a chair and folded himself into a sitting position. "Although when the morning comes, I expect you will die."

My only response was a wry grin. I expected him correct, but then again, a great witch can even surprise herself on occasion.

"Speaking of morning." Soulless Gustav waved his hand, and hard light poured through the windows. "You'll excuse my impatience, but I'd like to get this over with."

"No."

"I beg your pardon."

"Not yet."

He glared. "I am master of this realm. You dare to give me commands."

"Not a command. A request. You've been a most gracious host, and I would appeal to your generosity one last time."

His glares softened. "Of course. Forgive me." He returned to the tapestry. "I'll grant you two more hours. As they shall be your last on this world, I suggest you make good use of them."

"I shall. And thank you."

"The laws of hospitality apply to all men, lowly peasant and legendary sorcerer alike." Soulless Gustav resumed his silent watch over the room as darkness buried the morning.

I allowed myself a few minutes to settle my full stomach.

"What did you learn about yourself?" asked Newt. "You said you'd learned something."

"I learned that I can never love a man. Not as a woman."

"You seem to be doing an excellent job so far."

I smiled without mirth. "A temporary indulgence. No matter what, I am accursed. My love will always be doomed."

My shadow stopped dancing.

The jagged truth tore at my witchly veil. Newt averted his eyes and fidgeted in the awkward silence. Penelope leaned against my shoulder.

"Life isn't about the things you can't have," I said. "It is about those blessings you do find along the way." Though the truth is rarely a comfort, I found some solace in this. I couldn't love Wyst for a lifetime, but I could love him for a short while more.

My shadow skipped around the fireplace as I moved toward the stairs.

Newt snorted. "You aren't fooling me. I know why you robbed him of his virtue. You made him vulnerable to protect him."

"Did I?"

"Oh, stop pretending to be mysterious. I see through it all. Wyst may not have been a match for Soulless Gustav on his own, but he could've helped you. And you need every advantage you can get. But now, he's just a man. You've made him useless. You've taken him out of the game because you weren't willing to risk his life for your own."

"Figure that out all on your own?" I asked.

"You're admitting it then?"

I only grinned.

"It is very witchfol," he said. "To save a man's life by stealing his invulnerability. Your mistress would be proud." He didn't like acknowledging that and scowled.

A good witch admits to nothing. I ascended the stairs without saying another word and entered Wyst's room. He lay on the bed. My eyes lingered on his lean, dark body. He smiled and held out a hand.

He traced my lips with his fingers. "You are beautiful."

I already knew this, but there was something in the way he said it. Something in his eyes as well. He saw more than my cursed flesh. He saw the mortal woman hidden inside that even I could forget was there. But in his arms, it was different. In his arms, I could almost forget the fiend.

He kissed me, and his flavorful lips stirred my twin hungers. The ghoul hissed and fidgeted, but she was smothered beneath the indulgences of the woman.

Newt was wrong. Even without his enchantments, Wyst was more than a man. Much more.

He slipped off my gown and drew me onto the bed.

And he was far from useless.