Page 101 of Girls Night
Full Bloom
It’s a few years ago, a couple of weeks before our break-up. Electra has locked the Three Blind Mice early for the day and turned off the lights. Finding her way to my side, she pushes me against a bookcase stacked with centuries-old grimoires and whispers one word in my ear.
“Strip.”
Over the course of our relationship so far, we’ve taken turns domming and subbing. And, although things haven’t been exactly the same since the fuck-up with Alectra, nothing warms the air like electricity when Electra takes control.
She has me on my back before I even have time to remove my panties, which she pulls off with her teeth. She spreads my legs and I wrap them around her head. My hips buck when I feel her tongue enter me, but I dare not touch her. I belong to Electra now. I’m hers to work, toy with and take. I groan as her tongue circles my clit. My mind turns to white noise.
After she’s eaten me out, we sit in silence under the red protection ring, sharing a cigarette. When Electra passes it my way, she stares at me with such an intensity that my cheeks flush and I have to look away.
“You know, I’d do anything for you.” There’s a hint of desperation in her voice, and I don’t like it. Not when she had me begging and panting like a bitch in heat only moments before. “Absolutely anything, I swear.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, pulling from the cigarette. “What’s with the dramatics?”
She’s picked up on something. I know she has. An apprehension and uncertainty that has burrowed inside of me for a few weeks now. Ever since Alectra. It’s not something I can just shrug off or forget. And Electra can feel something’s up. Goddamned eye mages.
She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes tight. Her intense stare doesn’t waver. “I’m being serious, Delphi. Listen to me. I love you, and I’d crawl over broken glass and munch barbed wire just to hear you say it too.”
I scoff and grind the cigarette out into the ashtray, then reach for her face and cup her chin in my hand. “You don’t need to go through all that,” I say, pulling her against my ribs. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Maybe we’ll get back to where we used to be, I think, holding her fast.Maybe things between us can be the same again.Soon.
We don’t let go of one another. Not for a long time.
Now, in the house of the Rose Mother on the hill overlooking Cotton Rock, I hold on to this memory as best I can as I shut my eyes and squeeze them tight. I ignore the horror of watching Electra become one with the deity’s garden. I forget about the abnormal pain coursing through my body. I block out Copper-Eye and the god she had promised me to.
I imagine a world of white.
I picture the art deco door in the center of my forehead. It bulges, then squeezes itself out and expands just in front of me. I push it open and step through.
Inside the empty subway station, I sit down on the bench. It kills me to wait, but I know magic doesn’t care. I’m grateful when I hear footsteps and my doppelganger arrives on the scene.
I take a deep breath. “I know we’re not on the best of terms. I’ve used you like a dumbass in the past. Hell, I’ve used you in all the wrong ways like an ungrateful, spoilt child.”
If anything from what I’ve said has registered, magic doesn’t let it show.
I press on. “I won’t lie to you. I know I still have long to go before you’ve completely forgiven me for the mistakes I’ve made – if you ever do. But I’m asking you for a get out of jail card, just this once.” I shiver as the temperature in the subway station drops. Perhaps I’m overstepping boundaries, but I have no other choice. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Magic is already annoyed with me.
I wait for my identical twin to respond, and when it doesn’t, I make my request. “I want to trade my life for Electra’s. I know it’s impossible to bring back the dead, but perhaps there is a way to reverse the spell the Rose Mother has cast on her? Let her live and I’ll die in her place.” I get off the bench and lower myself to my knees. “Please… She doesn’t deserve to die. Not because of me.”
The doppelganger cocks its head. I’ve never gotten down on my knees and begged magic before, not even when I first found out I was on its shit list.
“You can’t bring her back,” it says suddenly. Its voice ricochets against the grimy subway walls. A guttural boom. “Because she’s still alive, albeit in a stranger form than before. I can, however, propose a covenant.” From its jeans pocket, the doppelganger removes a yellowed scroll, opens it, then hands it to me. “I’ll grant you permission to cast any spell you need — but only one.”
I slump forward, pressing my hands against the floor for support. Thank Christ. Electra will be okay after all. Righting myself, I take the scroll from its hands and bite into my index finger. Ignoring the pinch, I sign my name on the scroll in blood.
Magic shakes its head. The scroll bubbles and becomes water. “Oh, if only you had read this contract first.” It sounds nearly regretful, but that cannot be correct. The twin shrugs and turns, looking back over its shoulder only once. “Delphi, I shall see you soon.”
I open my eyes, just in time for the Rose Mother to pull me from the plants by the back of my neck and lay me down on the grassy floor. As she sits down and straddles me, I look for the patch of flowers Electra was turned into. I need to make this work. I only have one shot.
I run through the various spells I’ve managed to retain in my head over the years and only land on one that may work.No, not may. Ithasto work.It’s an old one Copper-Eye taught me one afternoon when we were outside in the garden after a thunderstorm had rolled through the city. She told me to pick a stone from the ground and asked me to imagine it was something else. I decided on an Action Man. She had me chant a Latin sentence over and over. Eventually, the stone morphed into a green plastic soldier in my hand. Not exactly what I’d wished for, but it was something. It had taken a half hour for the transformation to take place, and by the end of it I had a bloody nose and a splitting headache.
I don’t have half an hour for the spell to work now, but a bleeding nose and headache I can deal with later.
Something warm pit-patters onto my head and rolls down the side of my face. I look up to see the Rose Mother drooling, her grin wide and maniacal. I suck in air through my teeth as the pain ramps up from boiling point to molten lava.
“My seeds are working their way through your system,” the Rose Mother says, crouching down and rubbing her face against mine.
