Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,48
folds the letter and lovingly returns it to the envelope. Suddenly, she gasps, and her eyes find mine.
“Lucien, did I take my own life?”
“No.” I pull her to me and kiss her cheek. “No, darlin’. Whenever one of us dies, the other does as well, not long after. A few months at most.”
“I always thought dying of a broken heart was a cliché,” she says. “But after reading this letter, I know it’s not.”
“No. It’s not.”
She hugs me tightly and then presses a kiss to my chest.
“Is there anything else in the box?” I ask.
“Actually, yes.” She wipes her cheeks and reaches in to retrieve another item. She comes back with a red pouch. She opens it and shakes the contents into her palm. “Oh my goddess.”
Two gold bands wink in the light. They’re strung on a piece of rope that’s tied in a bow.
“Our wedding bands,” she says.
“On the cord from our handfasting ceremony,” I add softly, feeling close to tears myself. What a treasure this is! I would have thought that anything we owned before, aside from this house, was long gone.
“Lucien.” She licks her lips as she tugs the bow free and untangles the rings, which look as shiny as the day I bought them in the French Quarter a century ago. My heart pounds in my chest, as I already know what she’s thinking.
I don’t need to be able to read her mind to know.
She’s a part of me. We’re two halves of a whole.
I know her as well as I know myself.
I take her hands in mine and look deeply into her beautiful brown eyes.
“Tell me.”
“We don’t need a feast and a priestess to bind our souls together. We can perform the ritual ourselves, whenever we want. It’s our choice.”
“I understand that. But I don’t want to push you, Millie. I’ve been ready for a decade, but I’m happy to wait for you to be ready, too.”
She shakes her head and makes a fist around our rings. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Have you ever tasted blood? It’s warm and sticky and nice.”
--Susan Atkins
“Oh, it’s been a good day.” He grins into the face of his toy. The man cries and says something unintelligible, but that doesn’t upset him the way it usually would.
No, nothing can kill his good mood today. Everything is going so nicely now. Just the way he’s wanted it to from the very beginning. His girls know he’s nearby. They’re getting the little gifts he’s left for them.
Especially his headstrong Millicent. She’s always been a willful child, but after this punishment is over, she’ll understand that he’s doing this for her own good.
Yes, he thinks to himself, it will be wonderful.
Now that his plan is in full swing and everything is as it should be, he’s decided that now is the perfect time for him to play a little. To have an evening of enjoyment. He hasn’t taken the time to practice and relax in far too long.
He can’t let himself forget what he’s already learned.
No, that won’t do.
So, tonight is for fun.
“We’re going to have the time of our lives tonight, Lucien.” He claps his hands and turns to his toolbox, which he keeps on the opposite side of the room from the beds the toys lie on. “I think I’ll use this beauty today.”
He pulls out a hacksaw, a drill, and a cauterizer.
The toy keens in fear.
“Now, don’t worry. I’m not going to take a hand or foot this time. We’ve already done that, and I don’t like to repeat myself. No, I need to work on something a little more intense.”
He crosses back to the toy, who promptly soils himself, peeing all over his naked body.
“Well, that’s messy, isn’t it?” He turns to the toy in the next bed. “You can clean that up later. Now, I have a new workbench! Did you see? It’s beautiful, and going to be so much easier, really. You’ll find this much more comfortable.”
He jerks the toy from the bed over to the bench and manages to maneuver him onto his back.
“We have to retie your ankles and hands,” he explains. “I apologize. I hate to do that on my bench, but I’m not quite as strong in this body as I once was. But don’t worry, it won’t take away from the enjoyment of it all.”
The toy isn’t crying anymore. He’s just lying still, staring at the ceiling, his eyes empty of emotion.
“Here we go, Lucien,” he says and flips on the saw, then