Witch Hunt the Wicked Wild

14 - Alice

Alice

The phone has been quiet all morning. Half way back to the Cabin, it begins. The calls are coming in and they are not happy about me sending them to voicemail. Too bad, that. Not going to drive and talk on a phone. Only twenty minutes away.

After turning the phone off I put my hand on Henrik's thigh, "You still with me?"

"Still with you," he agreed. He mumbles this but he sounds good. His breathing isn't wet. "Not sure I am ready to dance, however."

I give him a smile but it feels weak. "I may not be good at spells, but I'm a great healer. I won't be able to spend all the time I need with you at first." I lifted the phone, then tossed it into the cup holder, "They are impatient. But I called them already, earlier. They didn't want to hear about it then. They can wait until you are comfortable now. Then I'll call them."

This man is much taller than I am. Many inches. Many more centimeters. His muscles are thick, his bone is strong and stone. I expected him to weigh more. Expected him to need me more while getting him back inside. But he is walking better.

Once on the couch with three beers and a bag of chips I kiss his forehead, give him a blacktwist, then head for the office to return my calls.

"What is this?" he asks. I turn and see he's holding up the twist.

"Pain killer. Just suck on it like a tasty root."

He gives it a curious sniff, "This isn't going to knock me out, is it?"

"No," I tell him, and continue for the office.

"Good, because you don't need to drug me if you're looking for comfort."

"Thought you weren't ready to dance?" I let my voice tease the words playfully as they are tossed off my tongue.

He returns the grin but his weiriness veils his strength and he sinks slightly into the cushions of the couch.

I tell him, "I'll be back with you soon. Better to do it this way than to have them all showing up here."

There is a start of recognition, a sudden understanding of credible threat in the squaring of his shoulders, but again his weiriness takes off any sharp edges. Henrik again sinks slightly deeper into the cushions, and sips one of his beers.

He needs another shirt. The black t-shirt is torn, revealing claw wounds on Henrik's chest and abs. The denim overalls have broke one of the shoulder straps. He looks like GQ farm boy. A mess of hot sex. The claw wounds are interesting in that they do not break the skin. As if he were hit with the paw but not the claw. The anger of the bruising however leave no doubt about the inflicted pain. I wonder briefly before pulling my mind from the puzzle, if his internals were damaged in the same fashion. Was the creature intangible by degree?

It is probably right now that I decide I'm going to fuck him. But that is for after, and when I know the mothers aren't going to show up. Might need to take him to my place. Thinking that, I decide it's the plan. Return calls and then get him out of here and to my apartment in La Jolla.

I grin as I open the office door — and then I'll fuck him.