The Witch's Initiation

Rachel’s smile widened and her chin dipped. “Hi, Mike.”

For a beautiful girl, she lacked the confidence that came with a perfect complexion and figure. No, Rachel didn’t resemble the outward picture Aurai had painted. Not in the slightest sense. But the way she acted around the boy displayed a hint of the crippling shyness Deme had expected.

“Um…can we talk later?” Rachel looked up at Deme, who stood at least a head taller than the girl. Rachel’s expression begged for release.

“Sure. Just wanted to introduce myself and get to know some of the girls in the dorm.”

“I promise I’ll come by later. It’s just…” She blushed and shot a shy glance at the boy. “I have to go.”

The young man stood as though transfixed, his jaw drooping. “Rachel?” He didn’t seem to recognize the girl in front of him.

“Yeah, Mike, it’s me.” She hooked his arm and led him away from Deme.

“What happened to you?” Mike was saying as Rachel dragged him down the hall.

“Sorority science project?” she quipped, laughing shakily, her voice fading as she stepped through the door leading to the stairwell.

Sorority science project? Deme shook her head and took out the ring of keys she’d been entrusted with as the resident assistant. She waited until the hallway emptied and jammed the key into the lock. She unlocked and opened the door, darting in as one of the doors on the floor squeaked open.

Her heart racing, Deme shut the door and stood with her back to it.

The room was nothing to write home about. Two twin-size beds, two utility dressers and two closets comprised the major assets. The dormitory was old enough that the bathroom was down the hall and shared by the entire floor. Deme had passed it on the way to Aurai’s room. A cleaning schedule had been worked out and posted on the bulletin board beside the entrance.

One bed had a soft pink comforter with a giant black-and-white-dots pattern spread across its surface. Leaning against the wall were three pillows in the black, pink and white of the coverlet. Not something Aurai would have chosen in a million years. It had to be Rachel’s bed.

As Deme glanced around the room, her stomach knotted. The other bed had a midnight-blue coverlet with gold stars, silver moons and white clouds sprinkled across it. So typical of Aurai. Always the dramatic one, playing up her heritage as a witch in subtle ways without actually confessing to those around her. While she’d dreamed of blending in with regular people, she was drawn to the mystical and magical in ways only her sisters understood.

Her eyes blurring, Deme continued her perusal, her gaze landing on a picture frame perched on the dresser beside the pink bed. A dark-haired, nondescript girl stood between two adults, equally nondescript, presumably her parents.

Deme lifted the frame and stared down at the photograph. Scrawled in flowing cursive were the words We love you, Rachel. Mom and Dad. Upon closer inspection, the girl in the picture was everything Aurai had described, chubby, pockmarked, frizzy-haired and slumping like a shy girl.

How could a person change so much in so short a time? As if she’d transformed overnight. Deme removed her cell phone from her back pocket and snapped a picture of the photograph. She’d show her sisters and get their opinion. No amount of makeup could cover pockmarks that deep. And the Rachel she’d met in the hallway didn’t have a single blemish. Could there be two Rachels with the same last name?

Deme replaced the picture frame and examined the contents of the dresser. Beside the frame was an ornate blue bottle with a very small amount of liquid inside.

Careful so as not to spill it, Deme pulled the glass stopper out of the top and sniffed. An acrid aroma wafted up in her face and stung the insides of her nostrils. She quickly jammed the stopper back on the bottle, snorting to get the stench out of her system.

She held the bottle up, looking for a label where it had none. What the heck was it? Was it medicine? It had to be something strong. Even now, her sinuses pinched in protest, her head aching from the residual stench. She shook her head to clear a sudden dizzy feeling then set the bottle on the dresser and continued her search. For what, she wasn’t certain. Any clue as to her sister’s whereabouts would be nice. She wasn’t so sure it could be found in her roommate’s belongings.

The first drawer inside Rachel’s dresser contained a myriad of hair accessories, facial cleansers, acne medication and perfume bottles. Typical toiletries for a female exiting her teens. The acne creams were in keeping with the girl in the picture.

The remaining drawers contained clothing befitting the conservative lifestyle of a shy, withdrawn girl of larger proportions than the Rachel who’d left the room a few minutes earlier.

Books, a backpack and more clothing were the contents of Rachel’s little closet. Nothing that gave a hint to her part in Aurai’s disappearance, except perhaps the black robe hanging as far to the back as possible, almost hidden by a pale blue formal. Deme snapped a picture of the robe, unsure of its purpose in a coed’s closet. Especially a freshman so far from potential graduation. And the robe had a hood. Not typical of graduation gowns.

Having avoided her sister’s belongings, Deme finally turned to her side of the small room. Throughout her investigation of Rachel’s things, she’d felt her sister’s presence in her belongings. Everything Aurai touched left a residual aura of the youngest Chattox sibling.

The photograph on her dresser was a picture taken several years ago when all five sisters had been home at the same time. Her mother had been alive and snapped the picture, capturing the essence of each girl in one still image. Deme stood tallest in the center, her red hair glinting copper in the sunshine, loose and wavy around her shoulders, her face serious, as befitting the oldest daughter.

Selene stood on one side of Deme, her dark brown hair piled high on her head, her brown-black eyes fathomless, a secret smile playing on her lips. On Deme’s other side, Gina had her arm around Deme and Brigid, her willowy body clothed in light blues and greens, her sandy-blond hair a sharp contrast to Brigid’s coal-black mane and bold, black, Goth attire. Gina’s smile was gentle, like a day at the beaches she loved. Brigid, on the other hand, stood with a cocky tilt to her head, her eyebrows arched as if to challenge anyone to say anything even slightly offbeat.

Beside Selene, Aurai stood with a happy, innocent grin, her pale blond hair lifted by her blessed wind. She couldn’t have been more than twelve in the picture, her body lean and boyish. She hadn’t yet blossomed into the beautiful young woman who’d gone off to college full of dreams of the future. She hadn’t come into her talents, verging on puberty and all the responsibility of the adult Chattox women.

A simpler time for Aurai.

Deme squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the picture to her chest, fighting back the tears. She hadn’t cried since her mother died right after Aurai’s high school graduation.

On the island of St. Croix, Deme hadn’t been there to say goodbye to her dear mother. She’d run away from her life in Chicago, away from her feelings for Cal Black. Deme had spent the better part of a year trying to forget that, because she was who she was, she couldn’t have a normal relationship with a man. Especially a man like Cal who saw only the black and white, the good and bad. Shades of gray would disturb him. Hell, her shades of gray would disturb most men. Why bother trying?

Fiona Chattox had been their rock. Deme hadn’t known her father long when he’d disappeared from their lives. She’d been the tender age of six. Her mother told the girls he’d died, but Deme never believed it, certain that her father would return some day and tell them he’d been spirited away by some unknown force and held captive all those years. Why else would he leave his beautiful wife and five daughters?

Deme opened her eyes and stared around the room Aurai had made her second home. She might not have her parents to fend for her, but Deme would be damned if her youngest sibling disappeared forever like her father. She’d find her. And when she did, she’d make whoever had taken her pay.

She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the picture. Instead she slipped it from its frame and tucked it beneath her shirt, sticking the frame inside the dresser drawer.

With one quick last look, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. When she turned toward the R.A.’s room, she came face-to-face with a girl with golden-blond hair and pale blue eyes, her complexion so perfect she could have been a model for a cosmetics company.

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you and what were you doing in Rachel’s room?”

Taken aback and feeling like a thief, Deme clutched her middle to keep the picture from falling from beneath her shirt. She forced a smile and straightened, throwing her shoulders back. She still had to look up at the young woman, who was just a bit taller than Deme’s five feet nine inches. “I’m Deme Jones, the new R.A. And you are?”

“Zoe Adams. President of the Gamma Omegas.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “When did we get a new R.A.? Why wasn’t I informed?”

Deme’s fingers tightened into fists as she struggled to resist the urge to punch this princess right in the face and make a mess of her perfectly upturned nose. “Perhaps the college president didn’t feel it necessary to consult you before hiring me.”

“We’ll see about that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing in Rachel’s room?”

“If I’m not mistaken, which I rarely am, you are rude and the room is not only Rachel’s but Aurai Chattox’s, as well. I was inside looking to see if our missing girl has returned. Since she hasn’t, I was looking for her emergency data.”

“And you don’t have that on file?”

Caught. Deme didn’t let the Amazon flap her. Instead she smiled. “I have emergency data for everyone but her. As president of the Gamma Omegas, you don’t happen to have her emergency data, do you?” Deme tipped her head, allowing a smug smile to turn up the corners of her lips.

Zoe’s lips remained firmly pressed, her eyes narrowing even more. “She’s not a Gamma Omega. She just lives here. And don’t unpack your bags. Things are likely to change.”

Deme met her stare for stare. “Count on it.” Before Zoe could come up with a retort, Deme spun on her heels and left the younger girl standing there, her mouth open.

As she rounded the corner, a hand reached out and snagged her arm, pulling her through an open doorway.

Once she was inside the dorm room, the door closed behind her.

Deme rounded on the girl, and gasped. This new girl was almost a clone of Zoe. The same tall stature, golden-blond hair and model-perfect figure. If not for the eye color, Deme might not have recognized a difference.

When Deme opened her mouth to demand an explanation for her pulling her inside her room, she stopped.

The blonde pressed a finger to her lips and leaned her ear against the door.

Deme let her fingers rest against the wall, feeling every vibration down to those of footsteps resounding in the corridor.

When the vibrations faded, she focused her attention on the girl, whose gray eyes were wide, her hands shaking. “You can’t let Zoe know we talked.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Shelby. Shelby Cramer.”

“Why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you just talk to me in the corridor?”

Shelby shook her head, her face pale. “Zoe can’t know.”

“Why? Will she boot you out of the sorority?”

The girl nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Something like that.”

“So, spill. What’s so important you can’t say it in front of the sorority prez?”

Shelby’s hands twisted together and she couldn’t meet Deme’s eyes. “It’s just…well…” She sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. “Just be careful, will you? Zoe can be a real force to be reckoned with when she decides she doesn’t like you.”

Deme smiled. “I can handle Zoe. Question is, can you?”

Shelby’s eyes swam with unshed tears. “No.”

A knock sounded on Shelby’s door and her eyes rounded. “You have to hide,” she whispered, grabbing Deme’s arm and hauling her with surprising strength toward the closet.

Because the girl was obviously petrified of being discovered harboring the new R.A., Deme allowed her to shove her into the closet and close the door.

The door to the room squeaked open.

“Shelby, have you seen the new R.A.?” Zoe asked.

“No,” Shelby’s voice quavered.

“Just remember, part of initiation into the Gamma Omegas is your vow of silence.”

“I remember,” Shelby said, her voice so soft Deme wouldn’t have heard if sounds didn’t echo so well off the linoleum tiles.

“Now that you’re one of us, you don’t want to go back, do you?”

For a second, Shelby hesitated, then she answered, “No, of course not. Who would?”

“Exactly. No one wants to go back. Nobody can.”

Silence followed.

“Well, if you see the R.A., let me know what she says and does.”

“I will,” Shelby responded.

The door squeaked open and closed again. The room was silent except for the soft vibrations Deme could feel through her shoes, vibrations caused by bare feet on hard floors. The closet door opened.

Deme blinked as she stepped from the dark closet into the brightly lit room. “What was all that about?” she added softly.

Shelby shook her head. “Nothing. It was a mistake to bring you in here.”

“No, it wasn’t. You obviously had something you wanted to tell me.”

“No. It’s not important. You have to go now.” She gathered her toothbrush and a hand towel and opened the door, peering out into the hall.

“Shelby, you can trust me. I’d never tell Zoe anything you told me in confidence.”

“I have nothing to say.” She held the door and motioned for Deme to leave. Once Deme stepped out into the corridor, Shelby followed and closed the door behind them, then hurried toward the bathroom.

Deme retraced her footsteps to the R.A.’s room, wondering what had just happened, determined to get a background check on Zoe Adams. If anyone was crazy enough to make off with a coed, Zoe would be top of her list.

Back at the campus, Cal parked his motorcycle outside the Gamma Omega dorm. Despite his determination to remain focused on the case, he couldn’t help the way his pulse raced at the thought of seeing Deme again. He called himself all kinds of fool for letting her influence him in any way.

She was like an accident. A hit-and-run ready for a repeat performance where he was concerned. Only this time he’d be ready. He wouldn’t let her leave him scratching his head, wondering what the heck he’d said or done wrong.

He took the steps in the stairwell two at a time to the second floor, where Brigid said Deme’s room was. He’d told her he’d be there at six o’clock to fill her in on what he’d learned that day and vice versa.

Question was, would she be there? Now that she knew she’d be working this case with him, would she bother to show up?

Since the missing person was her sister, Cal figured she would. Deme struck him as someone dedicated to her family, even if she wasn’t dedicated to her lover.

Outside the door marked R.A., he raised his fist to knock.

“Don’t bother, I’m here.” Deme’s voice caught him off guard, sending a wave of heat through his body. When he turned, he couldn’t stop the way his groin tightened at the way she looked.

Her red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and the V of her button-down cotton blouse exposed the rounded swells of her breasts. Breasts he’d tasted, massaged and caressed long into the nights they’d shared.

Damn, this assignment was going to be a lot harder than he’d anticipated. Tamping down his libido, he stepped to the side as she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and opened the door.

She walked in without looking back, holding the door just long enough for him to step through.

Once inside, she shut the door and walked several steps away, putting as much distance between them as the tiny room allowed. She leaned against the windowsill overlooking a garden and asked, “What have you found out?”

In the hallway, she’d been a turn-on. Inside the tight confines of the R.A.’s small room, her nearness sparked a lot more flames than even Cal could predict. He tugged the zipper of his leather jacket down, opening it to let in cooler air. Anything to lessen the heat rising inside. “There have been more incidents than just your sister’s disappearance.”

Deme’s eyebrows rose. Her gaze captured his. “What kind of incidents?”

“Two cases of attempted rape, two cases of attempted suicide and one other missing person besides your sister.” He glanced around the room. “Could you turn the thermostat down? It’s hellacious hot in here.” He stripped his jacket from his shoulders and slung it over a chair.

Her gaze shifted from his eyes downward over his shoulders and chest, the heat in the room rising the lower she went. “I haven’t touched the thermostat. It was on seventy when I left the room a while ago.” She crossed to the device on the wall beside him and studied the box. “Still seventy. Must be you.” Her eyes slid sideways.

“No, I think it’s you.” Cal didn’t know what came over him. All he knew was that he had to have his hands on her. He grabbed Deme and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands rested flat against his chest, barely applying any pressure as though she was torn between dragging him close or pushing him away. “We don’t have to pretend in here. There’s no one watching.”

“Who’s pretending?” His hands slipped lower, circling her hips, slamming her against the hard ridge of his erection. “Can’t you feel it?”

She nodded, her eyes glazed, her tongue sweeping across her lips. Her hands slipped up his back, beneath his shirt, her fingernails digging into his skin.

The sharp pricks of pain only flamed his desire, flushing his senses with a need so powerful he couldn’t hold back.

His fingers found the hem of her shirt. Instead of working the buttons loose or slipping it up over her head, he ripped it up the front, buttons flying everywhere.

“That’ll cost you.” Deme pulled his shirt up over his head and flung it to the corner. She bent to take one of his hard, brown nipples between her teeth and nipped, hard.

Cal jerked back and slapped her bottom. “Two can play rough.”

In a flurry of motion, they stripped each other bare, hands roaming over naked skin. Cal lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, walking her backward until her naked back pressed against the window choked on the outside in ivy. “Miss me much?” he murmured as he trailed kisses and nips along her jawline and down the length of her throat. He tongued the pulse beating frantically at the base of her neck.

“No.” Her fingernails dug into his back, piercing skin, drawing blood. “I can’t miss you. We have no future together.” Her head leaned back against the glass, her breasts pressing against him.

“Who said I want a future with you now?” He shoved her up high enough to take a nipple into his mouth, biting down hard enough to elicit a gasp. Wicked satisfaction spread through him with the flame of desire. He wanted to cause her pain. Wanted to see her suffer as she’d made him suffer with her disappearance. “Is that why you left? You couldn’t picture a future with me?”

“I had good reasons to leave.” She sucked in a deep breath, her head lifting, her green-eyed gaze capturing his as her hands slid up to cup his face. “For the life of me I can’t remember one of them now.” She kissed him, her tongue thrusting into his mouth, taking his in a desperate tangle.

He lowered her over his cock, penetrating her in a hard, punishing thrust. Anger and desire merged to become a living, breathing entity within him, taking over his actions, destroying his self-control. He couldn’t stop himself from taking her, even if she’d said no.

His thrusts increased, until the glass in the window rattled.

Deme’s legs clamped hard around his waist, her body arching against his, taking him in as deeply as he could go until she cried out loud. Her body tensed around him as he slammed into her once more.

Just as he climaxed, he had enough sense to lift her off him at the last minute before he shot his seed into her womb.

Anger and desire still burned in his veins, but he didn’t have the strength to act on them. He let Deme slide down him until her feet touched the floor. His arms remained around her waist, his palms cupping her buttocks. Guilt flowed through him as he realized he couldn’t have stopped himself. If Deme had said no, he’d have raped her anyway. “What the hell just happened?”

Chapter 6

Deme stood with her back to the window, the thoughts in her head spinning like so much debris in an F5 tornado. The air in the room was thick, hard to breathe. “I don’t know. Just don’t let it happen again.” She pushed away from Cal and gathered her clothes.

Cal shoved a hand through his hair, standing it on end. “You weren’t fighting me.”

“Fine. I won’t let it happen again,” she reassured him, her lips firmly pressed into a line, even as her body tingled with awareness of his nakedness standing within reach. Inside, her blood raced through every organ, vein and the furthest reaches of her body, burning a path downward to her core. She ached with need and she still wanted him. Damn him! She turned away, gathering her clothing. “This isn’t about you and me.”

“I know. It’s about finding your sister.”

Deme faced him, pressing her jeans to her chest. “That’s right. This is about finding Aurai. It can only be about finding Aurai.”

“Message heard. It’s not as if I’m asking you to marry me. I learned my lesson. So don’t feel like you have to disappear again.”

That barb hit dead center and guilt burned in her gut. She drew herself up to her full five feet nine inches and faced him. “I had to leave. There are things you don’t know about me. Things you wouldn’t understand.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to understand. You didn’t give me a chance to get to know you.” Cal grabbed his jeans and slipped his legs into them, dragging them up his body. “I didn’t even know you had sisters. Seems like something a lover should know about the woman he’s sleeping with. The woman he proposes to.”

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