Page 35 of SIN Bone Deep

She is mine.

THIRTEEN

When the Sun has reached its height, time for Oak and Holly to fight

– The Wiccan Rede

Iwoke alone and rolled onto my back, smiling as I replayed the events of the night in my mind. As I made the bed, I saw that there was a tattoo of little dents where the posts of the bed had knocked against the wall - and ran my fingertips over them with a grin.

I pulled on my discarded pajamas and fidgeted before my wardrobe as I flicked through the sad selection of clothing for something suitable for the day. Sex was messier than I’d anticipated, and I could feel the slow seep of cum into my panties as gravity encouraged it to leave me.

I paused, worrying my lip with my teeth. Perhaps there would be a child from this? Could grim reapers get humans, even if those humans were witches, pregnant? What manner of child would we make together? The father a grim reaper and the mother a witch. Perhaps, like the Vossens who were rumoured to have taken their demons as lovers, Ender’s seed would simply strengthen the power of the Vossen line…

I pushed the thought away and pulled a shirt and black skirt that were newer than those around them and took them down the hall to the bathroom. I showered, washing away the remnants of my night with Ender from my skin, and stuffed my soiled underwear deep into the washing basket, reminding myself to ensure that I was the one to load that basket into the machine, as I did not wish the aunts to notice the stains left behind.

As I stepped out into the hallway, I came face to face with Nova who frowned at me. “Are you working?” She asked. “You’re wearing a lot of makeup for work.”

“No,” I smoothed my hands down the skirt. “I’ve got this thing at the Academy, meeting my tutor…”

“Oh…” Her eyes dropped away, and I suspected that Aunt Callista had been in her ear about not warning me about the Academy orgies. “Well,” she looked back at me and shook her head. “You can’t wear that.”

“I can’t?” I repeated. “I don’t have much choice, I’m afraid. It’s probably the best option I have.”

“Come with me,” she sighed a little in frustration, before turning on her heel and leading the way back to her bedroom. There, she crossed to her wardrobe which, in contrast to my own, was filled to overflowing, and began to flick through the items within.

“This will do,” she pulled out a red tartan with black sett and threw it onto the bed. “And…” She crossed to a chest of drawers. “Yes, this…” She added a long-sleeved black knit top.

“Okay, thanks,” I stripped off my clothing and began to get dressed in her options.

“What is that?” She caught my wrist and ran her thumb over the woven band. “Is that… hair?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I felt my cheeks heat and I hastily pulled on the black knit, the sleeves covering the bracelet.

“Whose hair?” She wondered, sitting on the bed, and holding out the skirt.

“Someone’s…” I was evasive and shrugged a little. “Someone I’m…”

“I knew it,” she was triumphant. “I knew you were seeing someone.” And then she frowned. “Someone who knows how to do that… Is he a warlock?” She wondered.

“No…” I drew it out as I settled the straps of the overalls, and then sat next to her. “He’s not human,” I admitted. “I think he’s…” I hesitated. Ender had evaded being called a grim reaper. “I shouldn’t say.”

“Why shouldn’t you say?” Her eyes were wide. “What is he? A demon? Did you invoke a…?”

“Not a demon,” I was pretty sure the two weren’t the same. “Something else. I can’t say. I think it’s not allowed.”

“Nyx…” She was wary. “You need to be careful about men, especially those you can’t name.”

“It’s not like that. He’s…” I twisted the hair ring on my finger. “He’s special. He’s sweet…”

“Mhm,” her hum was derisive. “They’re all sweet until they have what they want from you and suddenly…” She trailed off.

“I’m sorry, Nova,” I had guessed that was what had happened. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighed heavily. “That’s the way of things, isn’t it? I’d better have my shower. You look good, Nyx,” she added as we rose. “Keep the clothes. They look better on you.”

In the kitchen, Callista was hidden behind a newspaper. “There is nothing in here yet,” she commented.

“About what,” I asked as I reached across the table to pour a glass of orange juice.

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