Chapter Twenty-Six : Planning and Plotting are One and the Same
Corinne
The candle hissed, jumped, and spluttered beneath the new droplets of blood, accepting each droplet for the sacrifice it was.
Hues of orange and red from the flame seemed to tint everything in the room as it flared to life, growing in the way that only Magick could propel it. The flame was unnatural, but then we were manipulating nature itself.
I wanted to stay up and watch the candle burn - even if it meant sitting in that wrought iron chair the whole damn night, but Dimitri convinced me otherwise.
I wasn't the only one who had that idea, and I certainly wasn't the only one to fade and not follow through.
One by one, we watched the flame flicker and grow, the wax dripping in large dark rivulets, pooling on the wrought iron table as it filled all the grooves and edges in the design beneath. And one by one, each Witch allowed exhaustion to wash over them as they peeled themselves away from the sight to head to bed.
It was as if seeing the hot wax dripping from the candle was enough of a reassurance for everyone that the spell had taken. Now, it was a race against time to see if the candle would burn down in time.
At some point, whilst our attention remained riveted towards the candle, Dimitri rose up and removed Thomas' remains.
It was not a quiet process. The thud of Thomas' head against Dimitri’s shoulder left a sickening sound, the way his hand swung limp served as a solid reminder that a life had been taken. As Dimitri hefted the body up, blood dripped down onto the floor leaving a stark red splash with every step he took. None of us said a word. I knew Jesse hadn't wanted to stay - hadn't wanted to be a participant in Thomas' death, but Dimitri had not allowed one single member in this room to back out of this experience, shutting us all in.
I knew why he had done it - knew that he was only protecting me, and so I found it difficult to feel anything but gratitude towards him - even as Jesse sat rocking back and forth in the corner with glossy eyes.
On Thomas' death, Maxine had simply lit up a cigarette, puffing clouds of smoke over the table, coating the air with the scent of nicotine and sage - her own special, cleansing concoction. Because if burning sage allowed to protect and cleanse an area, then Maxine would smoke it, and I still wasn't certain if that was in the hopes of cleansing herself.
I refused to allow my mind to think about the fact that I had killed a man, a terrible man, but a man nonetheless. So, instead, I watched the candle flicker as I searched for answers in the dark wax that ebbed and flowed, a river pulsing with the gift to free Lauren from the curse I had bestowed.
As the door creaked on its hinges when Dimitri returned, it was with a fresh shirt and the faint smell of soap. Not a drop of blood was in sight. And when he knelt before me, I finally tore my gaze from the flickering flame to find his eyes filled with nothing but concern and the hint of something un-namable.
The soft warmth hit my hands and I was suddenly drawn to the wash cloth that Dimitri used to meticulously wipe down my fingers, tracing the warmth all the way to the base of my palm. Thomas' blood had dried on my skin, leaving angry brown streaks in its wake, and I suddenly realized that my tremor ran through my entire body, my fight or flight mode settling into the instinctual shaking that ensued after shock.
Even that knowledge - that realisation, annoyed me because why was I experiencing shock in the wake of Thomas' death? I hadn't even felt this numb when Arlo had died and I knew him.
Dimitri's scent - his presence - the washcloth against my hands, was a soothing presence, and by the time he had cleaned my skin from those streaks of blood, I felt far more settled - far more grounded.
He held me as my gaze returned to the flame, allowing me to wordlessly watch what I had put into motion come to fruition, and one by one, the Witches slunk away, yawning off to bed as if there was no doubt that the candle would burn down within the allocated time because the debt had been paid.
I knew that I would have to address what occurred within these walls with the Club - knew that Jesse and Zoey had probably taken it the hardest, but I couldn’t bring myself to move from Dimitri's arms - couldn't bring myself to rise away from the flame and address the deed I had committed. And so I sat, refusing to move an inch until it was only Dimitri, myself, and Maxine.
Eventually, Maxine peeled herself away too, and I knew that she would be prowling the streets of New Orleans, the thrill of the spell still spiralling through her veins, taking her to dizzying heights where sleep would be a pointless exercise.
And once there was o one else there, once it was only Dimitri, myself, and the flame, he pressed his lips to mine and breathed life back into me with the dance of his tongue. With every movement of his lips, I thawed a little more, and when the silent tears finally began running down my cheeks, Dimitri was right there, kissing them away as if he alone could swallow my pain - absorb it himself.
With each awakening touch, I wanted more, until finally I needed his touch on a level that spoke to grounding and centering far more than simply pleasure. I clasped my hands around his neck, tugging him towards me with an urgency that seemed to define my every movement, until finally Dimitri's hands slid around, cupping my ass cheeks as he lifted me up, towards him.
And when my spine hit the concrete of the wall, I welcomed the bite of pain, opening up Dimitri to this raw, frantic need. I did not have to worry for a moment, for Dimitri was right there with me, lifting up my dress and releasing me from my panties until he finally plunged himself all the way inside of me.
It was a joining of souls through pure need. We were animalistic in our wants, allowing instinct and need to override any finesse each of us had. When I drew blood as I bit his lip at the same time his hand wrapped around my neck, his groan sent delicious shivers through my body, barrelling me into a darkness that was sweeter than any light.
The flame cast strange shapes and shadows against the wall, but through the haze of the pleasure he wrought upon me, I could not make out what they were - what the message was I was supposed to be interpreting.
His teeth grazed my neck as I felt his own shudder run through him, and I allowed my inner walls to clench around him, prolonging his pleasure.
Once we were both panting and spent, Dimitri finally lowered me to the ground, holding me through a wave of dizziness as my knees threatened to give way.
"Bed." His voice was low and gruff, but it was the tone he always used that brooked no argument.
My gaze wandered away from him towards the half melted pillar candle, the flame dancing in a non-existent breeze.
"Bed." His fingers pressed against my chin, drawing my gaze back towards him and away from the flame.