Page 3 of Bonded to The Boo Hag

I faltered, surprised. I suppose it was that simple. “As you wish. Any questions about what we are about to do?”

“No. I talked it over with Gemma. She said it was like a handfasting,” he replied, handing me the completed contract.

“It is. For a year and a day, I will provide for you and Gemma, and you will be bonded to me as a husband would, providing me with sustenance, companionship, and anything else beyond that we mutually desire.”

He blanched. “Yes, ma’am. I went through all of the paperwork.” He was no doubt thinking of the very blunt and detailed sexual contract included within our bonding contract.

“Excellent. Gatlin?” I stepped forward, taking him by the chin and bringing his gaze down to my own. “Your consent matters. Once the handfasting is done, you are only required to keep me company and allow me to feed from your lifeforce. That is all. Anything after that must be freely chosen, and if it is not, the binding will break. Anything nefarious on your end will result in Gemma’s treatments stopping and the lifeforce expended restored to me to use as I see fit.” He stiffened under my touch, perhaps angered that I would suggest he was capable of such a thing. Then again, he didn’t know the lengths humans would go to get out of a contract with a monster. “In turn, if I do anything to you without your consent, then all of my lifeforce will be given to you, to do with what you will.”

“How will you know that someone has broken the contract?” he asked, his hand taking mine from his chin and holding it captive in his firm grip.

“The magic will know. It always knows,” I replied cryptically, not willing to debate magical dogma at this time. “And its justice is swift.” I allowed a shudder to shake my composure. He needed to know that the big bad monster feared something, and I honestly did. Magic always exacted a price. It wasn’t something to be fucked with like the human Magic Users were wont to do. The idiots.

My admission brought a different light into his eyes. He stood taller and nodded. “Alright, let's do this then.” He let go of my hand.

Curiously, I felt the loss.

“Very well, shall we?” I gestured to the double doors a few feet behind the thrones.

“Yes, ma’am.” He opened his briefcase and I returned the contract.

“We’ll need that inside.” I crossed the dais, Gatlin keeping up with my stride.

I nodded to the council enforcers on either side of the door, stopping momentarily. “Since we are to be bonded, you should call me Palmer.”

He chuckled, and I could not conceal my grin as I opened the double doors.

At the entrance of the usually sleek but functional room, Gatlin paused, most likely because it looked nothing like his last visit there. The long mahogany council table had been replaced by a shorter one draped with a white tablecloth and topped with a massive floral arrangement of peonies, roses, and carnations. Around the room, small round tables swathed in black were adorned with crystal vases displaying similar arrangements of lusciously petaled flora. A central aisle of scattered pale pink petals led to a wedding arch woven of the same white and pink flowers.

The room was packed. Guests mingled throughout the room, human and haint with a few European monsters and a sea witch thrown in. We were noticed quickly, the din of the room dying down before applause broke out.

I dipped my head to the assembly, putting my hand on Gatlin’s arm. He swayed as if to step away; my fingers flexed momentarily to halt his instinct, but he had already corrected himself. He offered his elbow to me, and I linked arms with him, walking down the aisle to the wedding arch.

Sable Oxendine, the head councilwoman, emerged from the group of well-wishers, her brown hair trimmed close to her scalp, her black tuxedo elegant. The only thing marring her elegance was the pair of enchanted sunglasses she wore out of respect for the humans in the room. After all, the stare of a Wampus cat drove humans insane.

When she halted beneath the arch, the clapping ceased immediately.

“Gatlin Rose, before we begin: the contract?” She stretched out her hand, her long black nails pointed and sharp.

He opened his briefcase, handing her his contract.

“And all has been explained?” she probed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh,” she said, her smile feline, “I do like him, Mer. Good choice.”

I made a noise of acquiescence in the back of my throat.

Sable ran her hand over the contract; a warm orange glow washed over it while she probed the contents. “Excellent, it is all in order. Let us begin!” she called to the crowd, and a cheer rose from around us.

I unthreaded my arm, taking my place beneath the greenery. Gatlin joined me, and Sable began.

“We are gathered here to witness the bonding of Merewynn Palmer Ruth Fortunato Duvall and Gatlin Keith Rose. As with our foremothers, we will bind these two souls together for a year and a day, knowing that the heart is dynamic and changing. They pledge to honor the commitments discussed in the binding contract that they both signed.” She again swiped her hand over the contract, drawing from it a cord of pale pink energy held tightly in her hand. The agreement was then passed to Councilman Attwater, a slick-haired, smarmy individual, to be copied and returned later. “You will now make six vows before me and those here who bear witness. I will ask each of you separately to voice your commitment. Once you have both avowed, we will move to the next oath. Please take her left hand with your right, Gatlin, and cradle it with your free hand until the binding is complete.”

I held my hands out, an eternity stretching between the time she gave the instructions and him taking my hands in his. Sable wrapped the first of many cords around our hands, and the energy stuck quickly to our skin. I watched the current glowing innocently against our flesh, suddenly unwilling to meet Gatlin’s gaze.

Sable began. “Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Palmer against her pain, actively working to protect her from it and alleviate it?”

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