branded on one of those prime, perfect buttocks.
Fortunately Chris didn't follow her. When she looked back he was gone, though she had the niggling suspicion that this wasn't his first reconnaissance mission, that he knew which car was hers, which office she worked in, and that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him. It was strange that last week she'd had no men in her life and now she had two, a demon and a dirtbag.
Now that Chris had revealed himself to her, now that he had made first contact she would have to try and find a new job, or at least move to another department in a different building. It was a pity, she was content with her role there, comfortable with her colleagues, and though she wished she could be brave, confident and not intimidated like all the self-help books taught she was frightened of him. She didn’t know how far he was willing to go to posses her. To most men no meant no, but to Chris no was like a starter pistol, a confirmation of challenge.
Hazelle let the tears run freely now that she was safely locked in her car, her vision so blurred she had to dry her eyes before she could drive. She stopped at the mall, remembering to pick up some extra-large underwear for Kaden, not sure if she could survive seeing him again in such tight, snug boxers with her innocence still intact. She checked her make-up in the rear view mirror, wiped away smudged mascara, touched up her lipstick before making her way into the mall.
When she'd finished shopping she drove across town to the occult store, a place she'd heard about around the water cooler at Halloween, though never had any reason to visit before. Now that reason was half-naked in her house, eating her food, flirting with her mother.
In hindsight this should have been her first port of call when buying ingredients for the summoning spell. She'd have been able to talk to somehow with experience, with knowledge of the magical and mystical forces she had meddled with, maybe someone who would have discouraged her from doing the spell and saved her from this sticky predicament. But that was before she had believed in magic, before she could accept that these people weren't charlatans out to make a quick buck or two from other people's misery and desperation.
Well, she was desperate now and she was willing to give them every last nickel she had if they could help her fix this mess.
The store was a little shabby on the outside; not surprising seeing that it was in such a shoddy area of downtown where drug dealing, muggings and rapes were more comment than hot dinners. The neighbouring stores consisted of a tobacconists, two liquor stores and a grungy looking tattoo parlour that was blasting out heavy metal music. This was the last place she'd wish to be seen by her co-workers, or worse, her mother.
She looked back at the occult store, paint peeling from the weathered shutters, some rusted shut. The large display window was dirty and smeared, a frayed fuchsia curtain hanging as a backdrop that hid the rest of the store from view. A cracked crystal ball was on display with a smattering of raven feathers, scattered gemstones in an array of colours and bird bones strewn across a star spangled scarf. There was no name printed on the door but there could be no mistaking that this was the right place.
There was the soft tinkle of a bell above her head as she opened the door hesitantly, alerting any staff to a potential customer or, considering the dire neighbourhood, a two-bit thief. It was gloomy inside, most of the natural light blocked by shutters, candles and oil lamps around the room doing little to alleviate the darkness. The whole place smelt strongly of sandalwood and she saw incense burning on the counter,
Fortunately Chris didn't follow her. When she looked back he was gone, though she had the niggling suspicion that this wasn't his first reconnaissance mission, that he knew which car was hers, which office she worked in, and that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him. It was strange that last week she'd had no men in her life and now she had two, a demon and a dirtbag.
Now that Chris had revealed himself to her, now that he had made first contact she would have to try and find a new job, or at least move to another department in a different building. It was a pity, she was content with her role there, comfortable with her colleagues, and though she wished she could be brave, confident and not intimidated like all the self-help books taught she was frightened of him. She didn’t know how far he was willing to go to posses her. To most men no meant no, but to Chris no was like a starter pistol, a confirmation of challenge.
Hazelle let the tears run freely now that she was safely locked in her car, her vision so blurred she had to dry her eyes before she could drive. She stopped at the mall, remembering to pick up some extra-large underwear for Kaden, not sure if she could survive seeing him again in such tight, snug boxers with her innocence still intact. She checked her make-up in the rear view mirror, wiped away smudged mascara, touched up her lipstick before making her way into the mall.
When she'd finished shopping she drove across town to the occult store, a place she'd heard about around the water cooler at Halloween, though never had any reason to visit before. Now that reason was half-naked in her house, eating her food, flirting with her mother.
In hindsight this should have been her first port of call when buying ingredients for the summoning spell. She'd have been able to talk to somehow with experience, with knowledge of the magical and mystical forces she had meddled with, maybe someone who would have discouraged her from doing the spell and saved her from this sticky predicament. But that was before she had believed in magic, before she could accept that these people weren't charlatans out to make a quick buck or two from other people's misery and desperation.
Well, she was desperate now and she was willing to give them every last nickel she had if they could help her fix this mess.
The store was a little shabby on the outside; not surprising seeing that it was in such a shoddy area of downtown where drug dealing, muggings and rapes were more comment than hot dinners. The neighbouring stores consisted of a tobacconists, two liquor stores and a grungy looking tattoo parlour that was blasting out heavy metal music. This was the last place she'd wish to be seen by her co-workers, or worse, her mother.
She looked back at the occult store, paint peeling from the weathered shutters, some rusted shut. The large display window was dirty and smeared, a frayed fuchsia curtain hanging as a backdrop that hid the rest of the store from view. A cracked crystal ball was on display with a smattering of raven feathers, scattered gemstones in an array of colours and bird bones strewn across a star spangled scarf. There was no name printed on the door but there could be no mistaking that this was the right place.
There was the soft tinkle of a bell above her head as she opened the door hesitantly, alerting any staff to a potential customer or, considering the dire neighbourhood, a two-bit thief. It was gloomy inside, most of the natural light blocked by shutters, candles and oil lamps around the room doing little to alleviate the darkness. The whole place smelt strongly of sandalwood and she saw incense burning on the counter,
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