The Sacrifice

To the side of the kitchen was a doorway that led beyond. Bedrooms or bathrooms or storage, or all three.

"Sit," Sully demanded, pressing me into the head seat at the dining room table as he walked passed me toward the doorway, his rear muscles dancing as he went.

I glanced back around, seeing all the others filing inside, each and every one of the men stark naked still. Their light, and tan, and brown, and black skin, gleaming with sweat, was taut over powerful muscles. Every single one of them was unabashed at their nudity as they moved past me to follow Sully into the unknown space.

I'd seen more nude men in the past week than I had ever seen in my life.

I couldn't help but wonder if this was what it was like for normal, human women. If their lives were a parade of various male sex organs. Or if, perhaps, this was only happening to me.

It was also interesting to note that while each of these naked men was fantastically good-looking, well-built, powerful, and confident, not a single one of them seemed to affect me the way that Lycus had.

"Can I get you something to drink? Eat?" Pops asked, moving in front of me but staying a respectable distance away, making it clear he was no threat.

He was afraid of me, I noticed.

I wasn't sure anyone had ever been afraid of me before.

Even after I burned Lycus, he hadn't shown me fear. Just surprise and interest and worry.

If these shifters believed I had powers—even ones I did not possess—then that gave me an advantage. It would possibly even help secure my freedom.

You know... so I could go back and be imprisoned with the demons again.

Oh, the Gods.

What a mess my life had become.

"Something to drink would be great," I said, giving him a small smile.

"Cold or hot? We have coffee. Fresh. Get it before they all pounce on it."

I didn't want coffee. I didn't like coffee. That said, I was exhausted from not sleeping, and I needed to be able to keep my wits about me.

"Coffee would be great."

While Pops moved to make my coffee, Sully came back out from the other end of the clubhouse, his hands full of various items. He was still nude from the waist up, but had slipped into low-slung—very low-slung—pants.

"I figured this might offend your delicate sensibilities less," he said, waving toward his pants. "Usually, women don't complain about seeing me naked, but the way I hear it, witches tend to be all about their fellow women."

I said nothing to that, not sure what there was to say. He was right and he was wrong. There were some witches in our coven who enjoyed the company of other women in more carnal ways, but not all, not even most. We simply believed that being without men and the complications they often brought on, made us more powerful.

"Hand," he demanded, squatting down in front of me, reaching for a plastic bottle, and squeezing some of the liquid onto a fluff of cotton.

I thought nothing of it, holding out my hand toward him, until he touched me, and the pain shot through my cuts and up my arm.

The surprise of it, the shocked anger of my body, had the sizzle starting, uncontrollable, making Sully curse and yank backward, holding onto his hand, eyes wide.

"What happened?"

"She shocked me," Sully said, then shook his head as he looked down at his hand. "No," he corrected. "She burned me. What the fuck?" he asked, looking at me, brows drawn together.

"I told you not to mess with a witch," Pops said, bringing my coffee over, but being very careful not to so much as brush me as he put it down on the table.

"I didn't expect for your ministrations to burn that much," I told Sully, feeling apologeticI didn't let that slip into my tone, wanting to seem strong, confident, like my powers weren't a surprise to me, but rather a natural reaction to pain being inflicted upon me.

"It's alcohol. It burns," Sully informed me, reaching to show me the bottle.

"I understand that now. We don't use alcohol in my coven. I can clean the wound myself now that I have the items," I told them, gritting my teeth so I didn't cry out while I cleaned my hand then my foot with the wretched alcohol. "This cream," I said, waving it at Sully. "This will work as a salve?"

"Salve. Christ. I need a drink for this," Sully declared, turning to walk away toward a cabinet in the living room, pulling a bottle of amber liquid out, the same stuff Drex liked to drink so much.

"Yes," Pops said, motioning to the tube of cream. "That will work as a salve. Prevent infection. But you are going to want to wrap your feet up. Those cuts are deep. You could leave your hand out. I will have a word with Lex about biting pretty girls he saves in the woods."