Witches Immortal: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Witchcraft of a Dark Witch Page 4

  She returned to the table, smiling. “So, how are your studies?”

  Mik blushed slightly before responding to her. “Well, I am no scholar, like yourself, but I am keeping my head above water.” He was studying journalism as well, but he was a bit behind in his classes, the last she knew. “I was hoping when you returned from France you would be willing to help me bail myself out by tutoring me in a couple of subjects.”

  “Surely. I would be happy to,” she replied as she lifted her glass to her lips. She took a healthy swig from her fresh drink and said, “Do you have any job leads for after graduation?”

  Mik was watching her calmly. “Yes. A station up north has offered me an internship. With your help I will be more than prepared.” He was keeping a close eye on her now, and his smile had all but faded.

  “Are you okay, Mik? You seem to be a bit… distracted since I came back,” she said.

  He blinked rapidly. “No, I’m fine. You look a bit pale, Rasia. Are you okay?”

  She had just finished the last of her second drink, and stood to go as he spoke, but no sooner did the words come out of his mouth than she was overcome with vertigo. She grabbed the back of her chair and used it to guide herself back into a sitting position. She shook her head back and forth in an effort to clear it; her vision was slightly blurred, and her mouth was paper dry.

  “I guess I feel a bit funny, but it will pass. Just give me a moment,” she told him.

  Mik continued to stare at her, and she was becoming more and more ‘detached’. In her confusion she noted vaguely that he didn’t look concerned; he simply looked cautious.

  “Did you drive here tonight, Mik?” She asked this because she knew she couldn’t drive her car the way she was feeling. Why was she so dizzy? She should’ve been able to drink another two drinks easily. She thought of her flight in the morning. “I need to get back to the dorm, and I don’t think I should drive.”

  Mik shook his head. “No. I walked. Did you drive? I can take you back in your car if you like,” he told her.

  She nodded and stood, still steadying herself on the chair. She grabbed her purse in one hand and her sweater in the other as Mik took her by the elbow and gently guided her toward the door of the tavern.

  Once they were at the car Rasia rummaged in her purse and fished out her car keys, which she handed to her friend. “Thank you so much, Mik,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “No problem,” he replied as he helped her take her seat. He reached across her to help her fasten her safety belt, and Rasia felt his hand brush against her breast. It lingered there too long.

  Soon they were pulling away from the curb and heading in the direction of the dorm. Rasia was resting with her eyes closed and her head back, but when she opened them again she saw they were actually on the outskirts of town.

  She knew.

  “Did you want to take a drive, Mik? You should have just said something.” Her voice was slurred, and she noticed this brought a smile to his face. The fact was she had added the slur. If Mik was in search of a good time she would make sure he got one.

  “Just rest your eyes. Before you know it you will wake up and it will be time to go to France,” he told her soothingly.

  She did as he suggested, but she maintained clear consciousness. She was a bit nauseous, but with each passing moment it seemed that her vertigo was improving. She opened her eyes slightly; they were in the country now.

  The roads grew darker as night fell, and as the darkness came the interior of the car dimmed as well. Very carefully, Rasia allowed her purse to drop to the floor while letting her arms and legs go lax. She took notice of Mik looking over at her. He thought she was passed out cold. Good, she thought to herself. Keep thinking, dirt bag.

  Soon Mik turned off the road and pulled the car over and turned off the ignition. She heard the driver door open and close again, so she opened her eyes briefly. He was making his way to her side of the car. She closed her eyes just as he opened the door, and he sat on the edge of her seat next to her.

  Suddenly his hands were both on her chest, and he was shoving his tongue into her mouth. She opened her eyes and slurred against his mouth, “If you wanted to have fun why didn’t you just say so?”

  Upon hearing that Mikhael was beside himself. He began to take off his shirt as fast as he could. “No, Mik. I want to taste you in my mouth,” Rasia said. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes light up as he jumped to his feet and began to unbutton his jeans as fast as he possibly could.

  “I knew you liked me, Rasia. Sometimes girls like you just need a little encouragement, that’s all,” he said as his pants fell down around his ankles.

  Rasia straightened herself with exaggerated clumsiness and leaned toward Mik. She took his small, erect penis in her hand. It was all she had in her to keep from laughing out loud, but she kept her amusement to herself. She wrapped her lips around him and slowly began to work her tongue.

  Mik’s knees slammed together almost immediately, and he let out a deep, guttural moan. That was Rasia’s cue. Before he even knew what was happening she bit her teeth clean through his poor excuse of manhood. Blood filled her mouth as he screamed. He tried to drop to his knees, but her hold would not permit it. Now she looked up at him in the light of the small lamp on the roof of the car interior. His face was filled with horror, and his face was ashen.

  She spat his flesh onto the gravel road and subconsciously licked his blood from her lips before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t suppose you’ll be needing a ride back to your own quarters, will you now Mik?” she asked him. She got out of her car, a little wobbly on her feet, and made her way to him.

  “You know, you piece of crap, you really did me a great favor here,” she said as she grabbed his arm and yanked his pain-wracked body from the car. He fell to the gravel and dirt and rolled over on his back, moaning and sobbing in his plight. Rasia didn’t waste any time. She made her way to the front of the car and by the light of the headlamps she drew a rough pentagram in the dirt of the road. She staggered a bit in her efforts, and in her mind she prayed that the Powers would forgive her sloppiness.

  Now she approached Mik’s writhing body and grabbed him by the arms. He was dead weight, even resisting her the best he could, but his misery did not help his situation; he was unable to fight her will. Rasia dragged him into the center of the pentagram and released him, then proceeded to plant a firm kick between his legs to keep him in place. He cried out, and his hands went immediately between his legs. He began to violently gag and wretch.

  “Do you feel a bit, shall we say, violated, Mik?” Rasia looked down at him and shook her head in disgust. “It is a shame you are all heartless pigs, but I suppose that helps someone like me. How convenient that I will be needing the protection of the Powers for some time to come. Thank you for stepping up to the plate and becoming the very thing they desire.”

  Now she took the keys from the ignition and walked to the back of the vehicle. She opened the trunk and removed a massive hunting knife with a wicked jagged edge. After holding it up and admiring it in the moonlight she returned to her drinking buddy, who was now lying on his side so the vomit could run freely out of his mouth. The Powers would enjoy that; it would be like icing on a slab of cake.

  She laid the knife on the hood of the car and removed her clothing. Then, in the light of the headlamps, Rasia began her dance, the sacrificial dance, the dance which would summon the attention of the loving Powers. Once they gazed on her she would ask their protection. Protection for all that was to come in her future and on her quest for The One.

  She danced slowly at first, chanting with love. As she progressed her movements became more and more charged, and the light began to reflect from beads of sweat that were forming on her chest and back. Mik lay on the ground squirming in his great pain. He was doubled up on his side in a fetal position, for he still could barely move. He could see her though, and the metallic taste of petrifying fear was filling his throat and mouth.

  Now she was chanting so loudly she was nearly screaming. Her dancing body had become a blur, and Mik could not keep up with her with his eyes. She stopped suddenly and fell into a stony silence right next to him; she wanted him to see her. Rasia knelt beside him and smiled. She didn’t say a word as she raised her arm, knife in hand, and drove its blade deep into his side, twisting it when it was in to the hilt.

  Mik’s body went stiff, his back arching violently. His eyes flew all the way open, as did his mouth, but no sound came out. Rasia removed the knife, but hardly a drop of blood came from the wound. It would not do. She grabbed his hair in her hand and pulled his head back, baring his neck, then she slit his throat, so deep that it lay wide open.

  Now the blood poured out, even shooting onto her, and Rasia smiled. The Powers would be pleased with this. They would protect her as she made her offerings through life, and they would protect her as she sought The One.

  She sat cross-legged on the ground next to Mik’s twitching body, waiting for the confirmation of peace that the Powers would provide if they were pleased with her sacrifice. No sooner did the pig stop breathing than the peace came, and she stood, clear-headed and smiling. She hummed to herself as she used her own shirt to clean blood off her hands and face. Then she put on her jeans and light sweater and climbed into the car.

  As she started the vehicle’s ignition she wished her molester all the best. “Goodnight, Mikhail. Thank you for the help and information. Oh, yes, and for the wonderful time,” she told him loudly as she drove off, honking her horn as she went.

  Chapter 7

  Corsica, France

  The landing light on Flight 322 came on, signifying that it would be landing soon. The pilot began his gratuitous speech to the passengers as they fastened their seatbelts in preparation. Rasia finished her plastic cup full of cheap merlot and proceeded to hook her own belt safely together, the pilot’s voice fading from her conscious as she did.

  She had brushed her teeth thoroughly three different times since her encounter with Mik the night before in Kiev, but she swore she could still taste his blood. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant; it was simply the thought of last night that she found so distasteful. For a fleeting moment she wondered what happened to him after she left him bleeding on that gravel road, but she smiled and pushed the thought away. She didn’t even care if he had bled to death out there. There was one less dirt bag in the world if he did.

  The plane was descending fairly quickly now. Rasia closed her eyes and put her head against the headrest of her seat. She never had been a big fan of the landing; it was best to think on other things until it was over and she had her feet firmly planted on the ground.

  When the landing was complete she filed slowly out of the plane behind those in front of her. Her mind was not even there; she was thinking about the time she would spend in this beautiful country. She was excited to wine and dine, even though she would be doing it all alone. To be honest, Rasia Engres preferred to be alone most often. Others would never know and understand her as they did each other; Rasia was not like them, nor would she ever be.

  France had been the perfect option.

  The Figari-Sud Corse Airport welcomed as she disembarked. Once she got through the customs checkpoint and security, she followed the posted signs to the baggage claim area, and there she fetched her things before making her way to the car rental area. She had a reservation for an automobile; she hated using public transportation of any kind if she could help it.

  Her car was a newer, and very comfortable one, which she immediately loaded with her bags. Once she was settled inside she utilized the on-board GPS, typing in the address to the Residence Maria, the hotel she had booked. It would provide her with accommodations directly in the area where she would be doing her research. While it was not a five-star hotel, it was what she was looking for. It would be comfortable, and it would suffice.

  The hotel was exactly what she had hoped for: the rooms were arranged in a ‘bungalow’ style, while all remaining connected. The landscape was lush, green, and quite beautiful. She admired it with a smile; beautiful flowers and foliage had always provided her with a level of peace, and she would need peace if she wanted her research to succeed. After all, she had only a week before she had to return to the University.

  Rasia checked in and then followed the bellhop, with her luggage, to her room. After tipping him and shutting the door securely behind him she took a look around. Queen-size bed, desk, television. Two nightstands flanked the bed, and each held a brass shaded lamp. The hotel offered no Internet service, so she intended to find out where the closest place was that would allow her to utilize theirs.

  She realized she was ravenous, so she unpacked quickly and then took a hot shower. After fixing her hair, applying makeup, and dressing she took the list of eateries that Mik had given her from her purse. Might as well start taking advantage of what the idiot had provided; after all, he had paid a price for it.

  For her dining pleasure she opted for a restaurant about thirteen miles from her hotel called The Kissing Pot. She ordered a glass of wine and pasta primavera, and she enjoyed a spectacular Nicoise salad beforehand. Everything was delicious, and she found herself more relaxed that she had been in months, if ever. After her meal she decided to take a seat in the bar and go over a bit of new literature she had brought with her to study in regard to her vampire quest; it was to provide a greater detail of true vampire history than anything she had ever had the pleasure of reading before, and she was excited.

  “Hello,” she greeted the bartender as she took a seat away from the other patrons. “I’d like a glass of nice Cabernet, please.”

  The bartender nodded and smiled in compliance. Rasia sat and pulled the book and her notebook from her bag. As she did she pondered the ‘vampire’. How would a human truly know one when they suspected it? What would be the signs? She had thought of these things countless times over the years, but she liked to revisit them. It was important to the discovery to make sure you had missed nothing along the way.

  Her drink arrived and she handed the bartender her credit card. “Please hold on to it; I will be having one or two more.” He took the card and nodded once again, stepping politely away from her. Rasia opened the notebook to the first page and began to read her notes.

  She was very deep in her thoughts. She would read and highlight a bit in her book, then make a written note of anything that had captured her attention. Much of what she read she had already learned; there was really nothing new in the beginning of the book, and this was one fact that drove her on in her quest. There was simply too much similar information throughout history for the suspicions of the existence of true vampires to be anything less than fact.

  Rasia took a long drink of her Cabernet, breaking from her tasks to enjoy its taste and smell, just as a man of about thirty-three took a seat just two stools from her own. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was blond and blue-eyed, sporting very much the ‘pretty boy’ look. He wore a suit jacket sans tie, along with matching trousers and good shoes. She made an effort to not look directly at him, and once she saw what she wanted to see she turned her attention back to her wine and the book before her.

  This did not deter him; he obviously had his eye on her before approaching.

  “Hello,” he began. “My name is Pierre Allard. I take it from observation that you are a lover of good wine?” His voice was deep and rich, and he spoke in thick French.

  Rasia glanced at him before taking another drink. Finally she responded to him in French. “I am Rasia, and I do. Do you as well?”

  Pierre breathed out a sigh, and his smile grew wider. “Rasia. It is a beautiful name. I prefer a stout cocktail, but one should never shirk a fine vino. Are you local?”

  She looked directly at him for the first time. “No, I’m not. Are you?”

  “Yes, yes. I was born and raised here. As a matter of fact I am sure I will live here forever.”

  Rasia gave him a small smile before turning back to her own interests. She fished a pen from her bag and turned back to the front of the book, where her notes on vampires were kept. It would be best if this man took the hint; she had no time for him or his male shenanigans.

  She could sense his movements, and he squirmed a bit for a moment. “Are you married?”

  Now Rasia looked up and turned her stool so that she faced him directly. “I am not married. I am here on business, not for pleasure, and I am not interested in cheap one-night stands. If you do not fancy wasting your time I suggest you try to hit on the brunette in the booth behind us with the gap in her teeth.”

  This statement evoked loud laughter from Pierre, and his eyes sparkled as he looked at her. “Regardless, would a chat with drinks throw a wrench in your plans?”

  She considered his statement. No, it would hurt nothing, but she knew with certainty that he was interested in much more; they all were! She decided to indulge him, however, so she set her pen down, closed her book, and crossed her legs. “What would you like to chat about, Mr. Allard?

  His eyes scanned her face, as if he was not at all sure what to make of her and her standoffish attitude. “I suppose whatever comes up. I was simply having a drink or two, and since you were alone I thought we could just… talk. If it’s a problem…”

  Rasia shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she said. “I’m simply not fond of being constantly approached for no apparent reason. You seem harmless. What do you do?”