Skeleton Key

Have you ever dated a witch? Maybe had a fling or two with a fetching warlock? If so, then there is no need to read any further, this tale will have no surprises in store for one who explores the dark corners of the universe, prodding at the fabric of reality.

It was on Halloween night when I met her. Rather fitting, in a way. My morbid affectations led me to create a ghastly costume, a subconscious warning to any who dared to approach. Take heed, it whispered. Beneath this disturbing mask lurks a festering darkness that blossoms on nights such as these.

Perhaps that’s the very thing that drew her to me.

She was unfazed by my appearance, complimenting the gruesome makeup and fiendish touches I painstakingly crafted. I was smitten, utterly disarmed by a Gothic goddess. Her beguiling black lipstick, haunting tattoos, and burnished ochre eyes were a triple threat to someone with a fondness for death and decay.

Perhaps I should have been more cautious. Long had I wished for a kindred spirit, a person to watch horror movies with, commenting on visceral effects with the air of a connoisseur. A gore-hound, a ghost hunter, a fearless soul to carve my black heart into a permanent jack o’ lantern.

But someone with those credentials would have to be as damaged as I was. Maybe even more. Still, I didn’t give a damn about any of that. It was a crisp October evening at a roaring house party, I had a pumpkin-flavored beer in hand and was flirting with a dazzling temptress holding a Pandora’s box of secrets.

“I’m a witch.” She smirked coquettishly. I glanced at the pointed hat, striped socks, spider-web corset, and inky skirt.

“Oh really?” I grinned toothily, exposing a mouthful of fangs. “I honestly couldn’t tell.”

Rowan rolled her dark eyes. “Hardy har, smartass.” Shrugging, I took a sip of amber liquid and plunked my beer on the table. “Better to be a smartass than a dumbass.”

She groaned at my joke and shook a length of glossy black hair at me. “Seriously, I’m a witch. Wiccan, to be specific.” Cocking an eyebrow, I was intrigued by this new discovery. It could have been the booze talking, but I found myself in a discussion concerning ancient rituals and harnessing latent power.

"What do you know about ley lines?" I inquired, wiping foam from my fake beard.

Rowan's hazel eyes instantly lit up at the subject, putting a slender finger to her petite chin. "Oh ho! What do YOU know about that?"

Scrunching a rubber wolf nose, I carefully rubbed my hairy face. "I mean, not much? Just that they are conduits for magical power. I think I found one with some friends, a few of us felt kinda weird on this forest path and I couldn't explain why my bones seemed like they were humming."

My new acquaintance gave me an calculated look. "Interesting. You might have some potential, wolf-man." Crossing my arms, I leaned against the porch railing. "Oh yeah? As a magician or a lover?"

"I'll never tell," Rowan smiled mysteriously and slipped away with a wink.

Grasping my beer with a fuzzy paw, I sighed wistfully and watched the writhing masses below get their groove on. The crowd cheered as a new song began to blast, bodies shifting to the pulsing beats. Maybe after I finished my cup I'd mingle with the dancers, see where the night led once the liquid courage settled in.

A mermaid sashayed by, lips wiggling like a fish. The outline of a plague doctor loomed against the floodlights, dramatically swishing his cloak. I gulped down the last of the pumpkin brew and burped as a pair of zombies chased a mad scientist with a extraordinarily large forehead. Wiping my mouth, I crumpled the container and tossed it in the trash. Time for me unleash the beast on the dance floor.

As I scooted away from the sticky table, a foot kicked my shin. "Leaving so soon?"

Holding a fresh pair of drinks, Rowan graciously tilted her pointy hat as she handed me a plastic cup. "I got you some Blue Moon. Felt it was fitting, considering your attire."

"Trying to get me drunk?" I bared my fangs and growled. "I'm not house trained, so you better watch out."

She made a face. "Gross. You'd better not even think of staining my carpet. In the doghouse you go."

I chuckled, switching topics. "So why'd you turn bartender? I didn't think you were coming back," Being overly dramatic, I sniffed at the frothy drink suspiciously.

Rowan swatted my costume nose and grinned. "Oh stop it. There's no eye of newt or anything in there. I'm a gentlewoman."

I took a sip, squinting at her over the cup rim. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

"And here I thought we were getting along so well..." She huffed with an exaggerated sigh. "So much for getting a new familiar."

"Maybe a little too familiar," I quipped. "Surely there's some strapping young men out there you could cast a spell on."

The fetching witch jabbed me in the ribs with her prop wand, making me yelp. "And who said I'm interested in them? What's wrong with wanting to know more about a certain furry stranger?"

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but I don't always look like this," I deadpanned.

"First of all, you're a 'were'. Secondly, you're such a dork." Rowan shook her lengthy obsidian tresses, lips curled with amusement. "Come on, let's dance while the night is young."

Although there were many things I didn't know about Rowan, one thing was certain. Her hips didn't lie. We tangoed to old classics, did the Monster Mash, the Time Warp, and even performed the iconic moves to Thriller, tossing clawed hands in the air. My hair began falling out in patches, rubber nose long gone in the heat of the moment but I didn't give a damn about my deteriorating appearance with the beaming enchantress waltzing beside me.

Once we needed a breather, Rowan led me back to our messy table which was miraculously free. Maybe she was a witch after all.

I had never had such a fascinating conversation before. We talked about exploring abandoned houses for ghosts, how to interpret dreams, astral projection, dowsing rods, reading auras, and casting spells. Before I knew it, empty solo cups littered the table between us and the party was winding down.

Reluctantly, we said our farewells in the midst of a drunken crowd. It seemed the interest was mutual, for I departed with a new string of numbers and the promise of another, more intimate meeting.

There was an unusual undercurrent in the air, a strange sensation of dread and excitement that twisted my guts into a curious, hopeful knot. Was this the start of something new? What wonderfully bizarre things would I learn from this enigmatic sorceress?

If I could return to that moment, I would have torn up that scrap of paper and scattered those pieces into the cold autumn wind.

A few days went by. I was itching to text Rowan but didn’t want to appear desperate. “Play it cool,” I told myself. “Abide by the three-day rule so she’ll be thinking about you.”

After the waiting period was over, I eagerly sent a message, carefully worded so I seemed aloof and laid back. She replied instantly. Grinning like a fool, I resisted the urge to respond right away and lay in bed with my head in the clouds.

“Just keep playing the game,” I muttered. “You got her on the hook, just reel her in.”

After a few flirtatious exchanges, she invited me on a coffee date... in a graveyard. What a novel idea! Who would think about strolling among the tombstones for our first official date? I loved the concept and gladly accepted.

Rowan was waiting for me by the mausoleum, a looming stone edifice covered in gray-green lichen. She leaned against it, idly twirling her hair, looking as if this was a normal Tuesday. It might have been, for her.

I had no idea what to say to that pale vampiress.

Glossy waves of obsidian curls flowed down either side of Rowan’s flawless face, highlighting the silver pentagrams that dangled from dainty ears. An intricate, filigree choker encircled her alabaster neck with a lace spiderweb. Her black leather jacket opened to reveal a scandalously revealing v-necked shirt with skeletal ribs and spine.

It was as if she had stepped off the set of a movie, effortlessly oozing macabre glamour. I was a helpless moth, drawn to that voluptuous flame.

“Hey,” I rasped, throat dry with nerves. She turned, eyes brightening. “Sam! It's about time, I was beginning to think you fell in an open grave.”

In her hands were two coffee cups, steam swirling from the plastic lids. She handed me one. “A hazelnut macchiato for Mr. Fancypants.” It smelled amazing. I eyed her drink and asked what her preference was.

“Oh, I’m a simple woman. Just a cup of regular Joe for me.” She winked and took a sip. “Come on, let’s walk and talk.”

It was a surprisingly intimate setting for a date once you overcame the fact that we were surrounded by corpses. The atmosphere was oddly peaceful, devoid of normal cafe chatter and bland music. We admired the crumbling headstones and remarked on the rotting flowers adorning several graves.

I learned that she was extremely well-read, owned three cats, and had seen just about every horror movie in existence.

“Have you seen Audition?” I raised an eyebrow.

Rowan sighed happily. “I never thought I’d meet a fan of Takashi Miike.”

“But of course!” I grinned. “I was introduced to his work after seeing Ichi the Killer. Some really nasty stuff, but that was only scratching the surface. Izo has to be one of his wildest creations.”

She spun on her heel and walked backward, fixing me with a playful gaze. “Ooh baby, I love it when you talk nerdy to me.”

“And we haven’t even gotten into the more extreme side of horror.” I waggled my eyebrows as she laughed.

“You’ve got one strong stomach, boy. I’ll give ya that.”

My desensitization to gore and viscera was legendary indeed. Rowan was so impressed that I was invited back to her apartment for a viewing of ‘Guinea Pig 2: Flowers of Flesh and Blood’.

The movie had scarcely started playing when our lips became more interested in a silent, fervent conversation. Screams and panting emanated from the glowing screen, echoed by our own. I turned my head momentarily to witness a samurai tear a hunk of flesh from a sobbing victim when Rowan grabbed my face and pressed her mouth against mine.

We made out for what felt like minutes but must have been far longer. When we finally separated, beaded with sweat and exhaustion, the film was long over.

“Whoops, my bad,” Rowan sighed contently., Her eyes, twinkling mischievously, betrayed the fact clearly not sorry in the least. “We’ll have to watch it again.”

Propping myself on an elbow, I stared at her admiringly. “Already seen it. But I wouldn’t mind a second viewing. Maybe even a third?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You’re something else, you know that, right?”

Lazily, I traced the contour of her shapely hips with wandering fingers, feeling her shiver beneath my sensual touch. “Mhmm. So I’ve heard.” At this moment, I was convinced that heaven was real and existed in a one-bedroom apartment.

A bookshelf caught my eye with interesting titles such as ‘History of Witchcraft’, ‘The Complete Book of Spells’, ‘Curses and Hexes’, and ‘Beginner’s Guide to Necromancy’.

“What’s this?” I found myself asking, pulling away from my noirette siren. One tome was far older than the others, beckoning me with cracked leather spine and gold leaf lettering. Rowan silently watched me open it, a strange expression flitting across her face.

“The Lesser Key of Solomon,” I muttered as I carefully turned the yellowing pages.

It was an illuminated manuscript, filled with rich calligraphy and imaginative depictions of various creatures. Some of the names I recognized, like Belial and Astaroth. “This has to be old, centuries even…” I turned to Rowan. “Where did you get this?”

“Put it back,” she said calmly, a strained note creeping into her request.

I didn’t move, fascinated by the ornate inscriptions. “Seriously, this is the coolest thing ever… Is this Latin or Greek? I’ve never seen this language before.”

I didn’t remember seeing her move. One second I was peering at the words beneath a three-headed beast, then Rowan was slamming the book shut and ripping it from my hands. Her dark eyes were inches away from mine, emotionless pools of darkness.

“Do you want to die?” She growled, dripping with menace.

My skin crawled at the sight of her. It was as if Rowan had been replaced with a malignant spirit, wearing her likeness. Subconsciously, I shrank away.

Then something moved across her face and she returned. “Ye gods.” She sagged in relief. “You are like a magnet for trouble, aren’t you?”

I said nothing, still shaken from the experience.

“Look, you can’t go around grabbing stuff you don’t know anything about. It’s like letting a kid run free in a gun shop, and he goes right for the bazooka.” Rowan gave me a wry smile. “You alright over there?”

Nodding dully, I realized I was hugging my knees in the corner. “Yeah. I’m fine. Maybe I should get going.”

She cocked her head and pouted. “Oh don’t be like that. I didn’t mean to scare you…”

I wasn’t so sure. A few minutes ago I was in paradise but now I saw something ominous lurking beneath that dazzling veneer. It frightened me and yet… it was thrilling. Far more exciting than any movie or video game could offer a horror junkie like myself.

The voice of reason screamed that my legs needed to carry me far, far away. But it was drowned out by my thunderous heartbeat and rushing adrenaline. In for a penny, in for a pound. I decided I was in.

The Lesser Key of Solomon was but one half of an ancient grimoire. Rowan explained that the Greater Key had been lost hundreds of years ago, existing only in rumors. Supposedly, the manuscript was created by King Solomon himself, detailing the seventy-two demons he enslaved to amass a powerful legacy of unimaginable wealth and endless wisdom.

“But the power contained in these pages was too great,” Rowan breathed wistfully as she ran slender fingers over the worn cover. “So Solomon broke it into two pieces.”

The Greater Key held the kings of hell, the strongest demons ruling over the wastelands of Gehenna. It also revealed the secrets of becoming invisible, gaining forbidden knowledge, discovering lost items, and more.

While the Lesser Key could only call upon imps and other weaker devils, it was still treacherous to handle. Any information on wards, protections, or how to purify one’s self before summoning was only found in the Greater Key. “It’s like getting in a car with no brakes. Sure, you could drive it but it’s only a matter of time before you crash.”

She gingerly placed the book back on the shelf as I pondered this new information.

“Have you ever used it?” I queried.

Rowan burst out laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Haven’t you been listening? It isn’t safe.”

I shrugged and lay back. “So then… What can you do?” Her lips stretched into a fiendish smile. “You wanna see some magic, do you?”

Shortly after that, I found myself sitting inside a circle of black candles. Those waxen cylinders made me uncomfortable, the half-melted lumps resembling misshapen faces, mouths agape as they fused together in wordless agony.

Rowan insisted that we strip naked for the ritual. I felt vulnerable, exposed to something I didn’t comprehend. She squeezed my hand reassuringly, giving me a knowing wink. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to sacrifice you.”

That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. But now that she mentioned it, I wasn’t convinced it was out of the question.

After lighting the candles in a five-pointed star, Rowan whispered as she rubbed an ointment on my forehead. “… xypníste to tríto máti sas.” The strange concoction burned my skin, making my eyes water. She held her palms in the air and spoke that unfamiliar tongue again.

A curious sensation crept over my body. It was almost like I was weightless but still trapped, like smoke inside a jar.

Raising a hand, Rowan slammed her palm against my forehead and shouted again. “Afypnízo!”

I fell back, but it wasn’t me that slumped to the floor. It was my body. I hovered over it, staring in confusion. “What… what did you do to me?” Rowan was laying beside my motionless shell. I watched as a spectral form slid out of her flesh like a person discarding clothes.

“First time astral projecting?” She giggled and grabbed my transparent hand.

We soared through the walls, passing through solid matter as if it was an illusion. “Am I dreaming?” I wondered out loud. Rowan pinched me.

“Hey!” I winced.

“Stop questioning everything and enjoy the ride,” She grinned and tugged me into the sky. We chased a flock of birds, laughing in the wispy clouds and rocketing back towards the ground. Nothing could see us, yet we were witness to everything.

A plane roared overhead. Rowan pulled me into the aircraft, spying on bored passengers sleeping or watching the in-flight movie. I examined the cockpit with her, studying the complicated instruments the pilots used until we grew bored and sank through the floor.

Once we were back in the open air, I asked her how long the spell lasted. She shrugged. “Forever, if you want. Only it’s not good to spend too long outside of your body. You can lose track of time and waste away if you aren’t careful. Oh and something could technically possess your shell, but we are safe in the circle.”

I looked down and swallowed. “Let’s head back. I think I’ve had enough magic for one day.”

Despite my apprehensions, it was hard to go back to a normal life after tasting something extraordinary. Have you ever jumped for a few minutes on a trampoline and then tried it on the ground? The harsh pull of gravity makes you long for that feeling of weightlessness again.

So I yearned to escape this tedious reality, discovering what new sights Rowan had in store for me. And she was always willing to show me.

I learned there were many types of witchcraft, benign arts of pacifism, dark and wicked, savage blood spells, solemn death rituals… Even sex magic. The moment I learned about it, you had better believe things got seriously mystical. That was always a fun time.

“Everything has a price,” she warned me gravely. “Each spell requires an offering. If what you give is inadequate, something will be taken from you.”

“What can you offer?” I frowned, trying to understand this rule.

Rowan smiled sadly. “Anything and everything. But it has to fit the magic you perform. You couldn’t raise someone from the dead with a few drops of blood. Life requires life. Sometimes, a sacrifice is unavoidable.”

I shuddered. “I would never dream of that.”

“I pray you never had to,” She nodded grimly.

One day, I awoke to find the bed empty. My lonely hands searched the sheets for her warmth, discovering a piece of notebook paper instead. Rowan scribbled a note saying she was off to visit her mother, some urgent coven business or something along those lines. I wasn’t interested.

The Lesser Key was calling me.

I loved the musty smell of those pages, the way it seemed to warm my hands as I cradled it. There was something about this grimoire that I just couldn’t resist. But I couldn’t read the inscriptions, no matter how hard I tried. So I stopped.

And listened.

Rowan tried teaching me some spells, but I learned at a glacial pace. Those who weren’t born with the gift were forced to work twice as hard, a fact that gave me no small amount of frustration. I didn’t want to crawl while she was running. My dream was to stand by her side as equals. Even though Rowan insisted I wasn't holding her back, I still couldn't shake that shameful feeling.

The Key promised power. It spoke quietly and I harkened. My fingers knew which section to turn to, my tongue found the words to say. But what I couldn't imagine was what it would cost me.

When my lovely witch returned, I was levitating over a ring of flickering candles, hands resting on crossed legs, fingers forming complex sigils. I opened my eyes upon hearing Rowan gasp. She looked stunning.

Then again, she always did.

A woolen sweater hung from her enticing frame, exposing a bare shoulder. Skinny jeans clung to willowy legs and hugged wide hips, teasing faint panty lines. Lips parted, hot breath exhaling. Hypnotic eyes widened as full lashes blinked in disbelief. My vision was sharper than ever, soaking in her seductive form and noticing minute details which passed my oblivious sight countless times before.

The way her slender throat tensed before speaking. Glossy hair shimmering in the candlelight. Delicate nostrils flaring, smelling the incense I burned in preparation for the ritual.

"How...?" She stared aghast. "This isn't possible..."

I extended a hand towards my bewildered girlfriend, inviting her to join me. Raising her arm, Rowan drifted from the floor and met me in mid-air, clasping her palm in mine. She opened her mouth to say something. I interrupted with a kiss, gently dissuading those burning questions for the time being.

Our tongues danced, softly spilling over each other in wordless rhythm as we spoke the ancient language of passion. My fingers ran through silken tresses, fondly pressing her face against mine. Gradually, I reduced the unwanted space between us and pulled her into my lap. She straddled my crossed legs, temporarily disconnecting from our fervent embrace and brushing messy strands away from her sparkling eyes.

"My my, someone's awfully feisty today," Rowan smirked and leaned in for another playful tussle. Her teeth grazed my lips, nipping mischievously as her scorching mouth wandered down my jawline, sending ripples of pleasure over tingling flesh as she caressed my sensitive neck.

"Xegymnóno..." I moaned, commanding the power within me.

The spell compelled undesirable clothing to slide from her like oil, layers of fabric cascading to the floor. Rowan jumped in surprise, laughing as she realized what was happening. Seizing the opportunity, I buried my face in her warm nape and nibbled an earlobe as she sighed with desire.

"Are you going to let me in on your secret- ah!" Gasping, Rowan arched against me as wandering hands squeezed her voluptuous hips, teasing as they slowly traveled up her spine, savoring the sensation of her smooth skin beneath my rugged palms. Grabbing my head, she hungrily stole breath away with a deep, lustful kiss.

I felt my smouldering need burst into flame, heart beating a furious tempo as I greedily drank in the panting seductress.

Wrapping arms around my neck, Rowan tugged me downward until we floated into a horizontal position. Heavy breasts swayed deliciously, luring my attention. I planted ravenous lips on that tempting flesh, licks provoking nipples till they hardened to her needy groans.

Glancing up, I greeted her amorous gaze with a lecherous grin. My tongue traveled south, tasting salty moisture beading from her burning body, tenderly kissing her lean stomach, teeth nipping toned thighs, mouth carefully winding around her musty sweet entrance as Rowan shivered beneath my touch.

Unable to bear that cruel torture, she seized my head and thrust it into her dewy folds. I lapped at her, running rough taste buds over velvet petals, inhaling the scent of sex amid soft cries of ecstasy. Rowan squirmed beneath my ministrations, forcing me to grip her succulent thighs. I probed ever deeper, sliding into that inviting cavity.

Her distracted fingers ran through my brown hair, toying with it as pleasurable purrs began taking a higher, urgent note. I held on to firm loins while she bucked against me, pelvis undulating to my furtive movements.

Nails scratched at my scalp as Rowan clutched desperately, grasping a handful of shaggy locks to steady herself, eyes rolling behind closed lids, hopelessly lost within the blissful throes of my oral voyaging, nearing the final peak and screaming once it reached her, spasming uncontrollably.

Rowan pushed me away, breasts heaving as she gulped for air. "Not bad..." She panted, flashing a salacious smile. "Time for the main course? Just... give me a second."

Wiping my mouth, I chuckled. "We have all the time in the world."

I brushed a stray lock of hair out of Rowan's obsidian eyes, tenderly caressing the contours of her face. She melted to the touch, eyes welling with adoration as she clasped my hand and kissed it. "Here," she murmured breathlessly, placing my palm over her heart. "This belongs to you."

"Oh?" I smiled roguishly, squeezing her beating breast. "In that case," I pulled her hand over to my throbbing manhood. "This belongs to you as well."

Laughing, she pushed me away and mock-pouted. "Typical guy, always ruining the moment."

My back softly bumped against the ceiling. I sat up, viewing my upside-down surroundings with great interest. "We could also ruin the wallpaper, if you want. Would be tricky explaining that to your landlord though..."

Rowan twisted in midair, moving until we were facing the same direction. "You think I give a damn about that?"

I shrugged, eyeing her curvaceous form longingly. "Well I don't know h-" Legs wide, Rowan shot forward and wrapped herself around me in one smooth motion. Moaning, I nearly lost myself as I was instantly plunged to the hilt.

"That..." I shuddered, shocked by sudden carnal elation. "... was a dirty trick."

"But those are the best ones," Rowan whispered as she slowly rode me, her exquisite groin sliding up and down my rigid pole. I held on to her hips as they gyrated, creating an entrancing shimmy of heavenly warmth and intoxicating depth.

I groaned, experiencing such intense pleasure, it was almost painful in its ferocity. Grabbing her perfect ass, I massaged those glorious cheeks, pressing against them, driving myself further within Rowan until she whimpered, legs quivering.

"Who- who said you could take control?" She narrowed midnight eyes, muttering something under her panting breath. An invisible force flung me against the ceiling, holding my arms outstretched.

"Hey-" I protested until Rowan placed a finger on my lips.

"Hush now, my fetching warlock. Let me take you on the ride of your life." Winking cheekily, she twisted around on my aching member and presented me with a delectable view of her shapely derriere. I struggled against my unseen bonds, wanting to touch the temptress before me.

Fixing me with a wicked smirk, Rowan slowly began wriggling that pale ass up and gradually settling back, drawing out every last sensation at an excruciating pace. I strained to lift my abdomen, to increase the speed and force a squeal from her. But I was helpless against the magic.

Savoring my discomfort, the sorceress blew a kiss before swiftly bringing her tantalizing rump down, plunging my pulsing phallus into that slippery sheath. Rowan ground herself upon my steely rod, which felt as if it was going to burst under that wonderful pressure. Just before I was about to explode, she rose again.

"Are you ready to release the spell?" Rowan sighed contentedly, clenching around my length as darkness swallowed the edges of my sight. I rasped out something I couldn't hear. It must have been a yes because she began pumping up and down, svelte legs tensing, round cheeks jiggling as they clapped against my groin.

"Oh gods," the witch blurted out, husky voice strained with concentration. "Come to me now, my love. Release your energy that we might be purified."

I could feel energy crackling in my toes. The electricity swelled, pulling all consciousness towards my erection as Rowan bounced on it, screaming a wordless cry. We shook as the tidal waves of euphoria overwhelmed us, becoming one being, connected by chemical and magical impulses which burst behind our eyes in a dizzying firework display.

One by one, the candles below were snuffed out. We drifted down to bed, unable to do anything but bask in the glory of our love.

"That..." I mumbled. "...was incredible." Nuzzling my chest affectionately, Rowan assented it was quite the experience.

"Hey!" She tilted her pixie face to look at me. "You owe me an explanation."

"So I do," I grunted reluctantly, unwilling to ruin the afterglow with news of my forbidden ritual. What had I done with the Lesser Key? Hazy recollections swam before my mind's eye, snippets of memories. Holding the grimoire, mouthing an unknown language... then nothing. I couldn't even pinpoint when I'd lit the candles and waited for Rowan to appear. Where did the day go?

What was even more unsettling than the time loss was the knowledge that I'd given up something in exchange for unlocking magical potential. All I knew was that it had been extremely important. But surely it wasn't that dire, if I freely made the choice... My head spun, dizzy from exertion and confusion.

Rowan frowned, concern creeping into her beatific features. "Sam? Everything alright?"

My tongue felt dry and swollen. How could I tell her I'd broken the one rule she set? If I said nothing, our relationship would stay the course. If I spoke up... I might never see her again. Taking a deep breath, I chose the lesser of evils.

"You did WHAT?!" She bolted upright, clutching the blanket around herself. I shied away from that fiery scowl, wondering if her thoughts really could kill. "Fucking idiot! Why would you give yourself to it? Do you know what it can do?!" Rowan seethed, face contorted by the venomous fury I'd seen before.

I bowed my head in shame, unable to meet her wrath-filled eyes. "I don't know what came over me..."

She reached out and grabbed my chin. I flinched from her touch. Gently, the insistent hand pulled my flushed face towards hers. I glanced up.

The anger was gone. Deep sadness tugged at her eyes, moisture glistening in the dim light. My weakened defenses crumbled against her sorrow. I wrapped my arms around Rowan as she murmured in my ear. "I don't want to lose you, damned fool that you are. Why couldn't you be happy with a few simple hexes?"

"I just wanted you to be proud of me..." I confessed, hugging her tightly. She sniffed, rubbing her nose on my shoulder. "Dummy. I already was."

I stroked her silky hair, playing with the soft locks while we processed this new revelation. "What do we do now?" I wondered.

Rowan shrugged, releasing me with a sigh. "Maybe some tests, cast a few divinations, see what exactly we're working with? All I know is I gotta pee. Don't go selling your soul while I'm gone, ‘kay?"

Nodding sheepishly, I observed her lithe figure slither out of bed and saunter to the bathroom. The way her bare hips swayed would be imprinted on my mind forever, a sight I would never tire of seeing.

The bathroom light flicked on. A soft gasp, followed by a despairing wail. "No... no, no, no, no..."

I leapt out of bed, sluggish apathy forgotten as adrenaline drove a fearful ice pick into my brain. "Rowan?!" I stumbled, slipping on the slick wood floor. Scrambling to my feet, I burst into the bathroom to witness her leaning over the sink.

She turned, puffy eyed and frightened. "I... I don't know what to do. Gods, I hate you so much for this..."

Her words stung, driving a second dagger into my thundering heart. Opening my mouth, I began to ask what happened when she lifted her fist. A tangle of ghost-white hair dangled from Rowan's grasp.

My vision widened in horror. "You mean to tell me-"

She cut me off with a curt nod, tears spilling from her almond eyes. "Seems like you chose to sacrifice the thing you loved most. I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you right now..."

Leaning against the sink, Rowan dropped the ivory hair and cursed. "Fuck! And I forgot to mention my family wants to meet you. Seriously dude, you couldn't have done this shit at a worse time!"

"Hold on," I blinked. "You said what?!"

Chewing on her hair, she paced around the bathroom and began muttering. "Maybe we can reverse this... If we had the Greater Key I could probably find a way to break it... I think."

"They want to meet ME?" Dumbfounded, I stared at her until she shoved me out.

"Really, Sam? I'm about to start wasting away and all you can worry about is meeting my parents?" Wiping her eyes, Rowan shook her two-toned head and slammed the door shut.

I staggered over to the bed and collapsed on to it, feeling utterly drained. "I really fucked things up, didn't I....?" Lamenting, I looked over at the stuffed devil she kept on the nightstand. The glossy eyes glittered in agreement.

At some point I must have passed out because I don't remember falling asleep. The next thing I remembered was the pillow being tugged away from my head as Rowan rudely yanked me back to consciousness. Blinking in the harsh sunlight, I squinted at her blobby shape. "Uh... morning?"

She tilted her wavy head, hooking a silver bat earring with practiced ease. "Get up. We're going to be late."

"Late? It's morning..." I rubbed crusty sleep away from my weary eyes. The clock read 2:43. "Ah," I muttered. "Do I have time to shower?"

Rowan unleashed an exasperated sigh as the second bat dangled from her lobe. "If you get your ass moving, I guess so. Please hurry. I'd appreciate it if you'd at least try not to make my life any harder than it already is."

The venomous tone was a shock. Unused to being the subject of spite, I timidly retreated into the bathroom as she clacked around the apartment in stilettos. "Five minutes!" She called after me.

Hot water soothed my rough awakening, a comforting massage against my groggy skull. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the tile wall and savored the warm flow running over my body, half returning to the realm of dreams as I faded back into-

A frigid downpour froze my skin. Jolted awake, I yelped and jumped away from the freezing jets. Sapphire icicles protruded from the nozzle, blocking the water. "The hell?!" I shivered, hugging myself.

"I said five minutes! Hurry up and get dressed!" Rowan snapped.

Wrapping a towel around myself for warmth, I shuffled towards the bedroom as my teeth chattered. "D-did you h-have to use that ice s-spell?"

"No," She smirked. "But it worked, didn't it? Hurry up so we can leave. You really don't want to get on my mom's bad side."


The drive to Rowan's parents was filled with unspoken tension. I decided to let her seethe, unwilling to provoke another outburst or tempt another act of revenge. There was already a huge target on my back. Better not tempt fate, right? Gloomily, I stared out the passenger window, watching the world flash by as I wondered what I was walking into. Would they be accepting? Distrustful? Would Rowan throw me to the wolves, observing with glee as the family picked me apart?

If my silence bothered her, she gave no sign. We listened to the radio as the WRX whined down the highway, weaving in and out of lanes. I didn't dare comment on her death defying driving. This was her broom, for all intents and purposes. It wouldn't have surprised me if we suddenly took to the air, avoiding the bumper to bumper traffic.

After what felt like hours, we turned down a bumpy dirt road and rumbled past a thick forest carpeted with brown and red leaves. "We're almost there," Rowan remarked indifferently. I nodded quietly, keeping an eye out for the house.

There was no way I could have missed it.

I gazed in awe at the Tudor style home, admiring the steeply pitched roof, lush ivy wreathing the stone chimney, diamond-pane windows glowing a cheery yellow. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought we'd been transported to the English countryside, so quaint and picturesque was the landscape surrounding the storybook manor that I forgot all about the disquiet between Rowan and I.

Dazedly, I wandered up the stepping stone path, taking in the fairy ring of toadstools beside it. A flower garden bloomed beside the entrance, colorful flowers thriving despite the chilly fall weather. There was endless amounts of magic poured into this estate. I could feel it, sense the centuries of witchcraft holding together the timeworn stones, binding bricks with arcane mortar. It thrummed tonelessly in my skull, making me a bit dizzy.

Rowan gently placed a hand on my shoulder. I started, glancing at her warily. She gave me a wry half-smile and brushed dandelion fluff out of my hair. "You'll get used to it. It's all just a bit overwhelming because you've been newly awoken."

Before I could answer, the front door swung open.

"Ah, there's the happy couple! And not a moment too soon, your grandmother was threatening to start without you." A middle-aged woman waved from the stoop, eyes crinkled with good humor. I couldn't help but stare.

Despite the advanced years, she wore them gracefully. Her black dress lovingly hugged a full figure, showing off a set of dynamite curves that would give any red-blooded male whiplash. Turquoise eyes examined me, pursing plump lips thoughtfully. Auburn hair flowed into a Celtic braid, woven around a jade ring which swayed with every head movement.

Rowan's mother laughed at my thunderstruck reaction, silver bracelets jangling as she beckoned us closer. "Oh he's a handsome one. A bit different than your usual boy toys," She winked at my girlfriend, who was growing increasingly flustered.

Kicking me sharply, Rowan muttered under her breath. "Pick your jaw up off the ground and say hello."

"H-hi," I stuttered. "I'm Samael."

The mature vixen curtsied and extended her hand. I shook it, making her laugh. "Oh you're a funny one. You can call me Samara." Stepping aside, Samara moved out of the entrance so we could enter the warmly lit house.

"Samael, huh? You don't hear old names like that anymore." Turning, the elegant mother sashayed down a carpeted hallway.

Rowan grabbed my hand and squeezed it painfully tight. "Be careful," She whispered. "You've just walked into the lion's den." I nodded, swallowing nervously as we followed Samara to the dining room.

Seated at the richly carved mahogany table were two elderly women, one far older than the other. "Samael, this is my mother Cordelia and grandmother Belladonna," The auburn hostess beamed. I nodded to both as Samara made the introductions.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes, raising pearl spectacles to her wrinkled face. "Looks like trouble to me," She sniffed unpleasantly.

The ancient Belladonna made no sound, but raised a cane and thumped it on the floor three times.

Chuckling, Samara turned to me and put a hand to her mouth conspiratorially. "She says you remind her of a puppy."

"Oh... " I blinked. "Thanks?"

The wizened crone gave no response, her cracked mouth hung open as milky eyes dully stared into space. I glanced at Rowan. She shook her head. "Don't let her fool you, nothing gets by my great-grandmother."

We took our spots at the table, which was heaped with a variety of provisions. A massive golden turkey took the centerpiece, surrounded by steaming buttermilk biscuits, garlic mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, roasted green beans, cheesy brussel sprouts, butternut squash soup... It was a decadent feast unlike any I'd seen before.

"I still don't know why we have to celebrate Thanksgiving if we already observed Mabon," Cordelia curtly remarked. "It's a testament to the gross excesses of society."

Samara pinched her nose and muttered a short prayer for guidance. "I told you, mother. This is to welcome Samael into the family. It would be a shock to shove him right into a pagan celebration, wouldn't it?"

I glanced at the catatonic Belladonna, where a floating spoon was scooping mashed potatoes from the dinner plate into her open mouth. Rowan nudged me. "Told you. She's sharper than you think."

"Would you like some turkey, Samael?" The matriarch turned to me expectantly.

I bobbed my head a bit too anxiously. "Y-yes please. You can just call me Sam if you want. Everyone does."

Waving a finger, Samara giggled as the turkey sliced itself. "How funny, that's what my friends call me too." Gesturing to my plate, the matronly witch sent three perfect slices of juicy white meat onto the dish.

Rowan glared at her mother. "I thought you said you'd behave yourself."

"I don't know what is it you're insinuating, my dear." Samara smiled mysteriously and plopped some mashed potatoes beside my turkey. "Gravy, Sammy?"

Rowan's hand threatened to crush mine. I grimaced, answering through gritted teeth. "Yes... please."

Daintily spearing peas with a fork, Cordelia ate them one at a time while glowering at me behind her spectacles. "What do you do for a living, boy?"

"Uh," I began, wincing as Rowan released her crushing grip on my hand. Rubbing the wounded appendage, I tried to find the right response for the cantankerous grandmother.

"Oh hush now, Mama. Let him eat before you interrogate the poor thing," Samara scolded, waving her butter knife.

Finishing her mashed potatoes, the great-grandmother conjured the spoon towards the jellied cranberries and transported them to her drooling mouth.

"Where's your husband?" I asked Samara politely.

Rowan stiffened as if struck. The spoon hovering before Belladonna dropped with a clatter. Even Cordelia's spectacles fell off her astonished face, gazing at me as if I'd grown a second head.

Feeling four pairs of eyes on me, I imagined shrinking into a ball and rolling under the table. My face flushed as the silence grew. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore. "I didn't mean any offense!" I blurted, skin burning with shame. "I was- Just... just forget I said anything."

Patting her braid, Samara heaved a great sigh. "Well," She relented. "He couldn't have known. I'm sure Rowan neglected to warn him ahead of time." Her icy tone dripped down my neck, making me shiver.

Rowan placed her hands on the table and bit her lip. "We don't talk about him in this house. Our family has a bad history with warlocks."

Now I felt more vulnerable than ever before. Cold sweat trickled down my neck, running down the small of my back as I realized what exactly I'd walked into.

"Grand-daughter, I've been meaning to ask you..." Cordelia narrowed her sunken eyes, peering at the raven haired witch. "Why have you come here wearing a glamour? Is it because you wish to impress this young lad?"

Inspecting Rowan curiously, Samara put a finger to her chin. "Now that you mention it, she is casting an illusion spell. How strange. Is everything alright, dear?"

Rowan glanced at me fearfully. "It's... it's a long story."

"Well," Cordelia sniffed. "We have all night, don't we? Come, child. Let's see what you are hiding." Snapping her brittle fingers, the grandmother broke the charm with a blinding flash.

I gasped as the truth was laid bare.

My lover had aged far more rapidly than I expected, dark locks now streaked with white, crows feet circling the bags hanging below her tearful eyes, perfect skin marred with the wrinkles of time. Rowan was older than her mother, yet younger than Cordelia. I clutched at my agonizing chest, loathing myself for cursing her, robbing my lover of youth.

An unseen force constricted my neck, yanking me upwards as I choked, clutching at the invisible noose which pulled me over to the unseeing Belladonna. Plates shattered, food tumbled to the floor as I was dragged over the table.

"No!" Rowan screamed as her mother pulled her out of the dining room. "Please, you don't understand!" Her cries faded as a door slammed shut. Pushing up her spectacles, Cordelia grimly observed the proceedings.

I dangled, wheezing for air as shadows collected around the soporose Belladonna. Faintly, I was aware of something lurking behind her chair. Clawed hands stretched out from the murky gloom, grasping each side of the head rest. Eyes glittered between the wooden spindles, teeth flashing as a foul voice disturbed the air with guttural discord, while the ancient woman continued to stare off into the distance.

What have you done with my great-granddaughter, wretched warlock?

I struggled to speak, gagging on my own tongue as it fell back into my esophagus. "I used... L-Lesser Key... accident..."

Powerful magyk requires mindful decision. There are no mistakes with the Keys.

The force squeezed harder, threatening to crack the bones in my neck, popping my skull with excruciating pressure. I coughed, blood trickling out of my breathless mouth. My vision began to waver, growing dim as color was sucked out of the world.

Cordelia held up a hand. "Halt, mother."

The invisible fist ceased, slightly loosening its hold. I gulped, inhaling a fraction of air and sputtering as my lungs spasmed.

"Put him down, it seems that my daughter has a proposal for us." Standing, Cordelia brushed dust from her frock. I was instantly released, crashing to the floor amid fallen table scraps and broken dishes.

I convulsed, heaving a great breath and expelling crimson phlegm as my respiratory system kick-started to life.

The dining room doors opened.

My body was racked with caustic coughs, desperately trying to regain my lost oxygen. When I looked up, I saw Samara, Cordelia and Belladonna staring at me with cold eyes. Squatting down, the youngest gave me an empty smile.

"So," She began. "You've made a deal for power, yes?"

I nodded dully, saliva dripping down my chin.

"We see," Samara said calmly. "It seems that Rowan has begged for your life, otherwise we would have transferred your vitality to her and resolved this mess."

Raising a finger, she tapped my forehead. "But now we have to spare a warlock. Not something we like to do around here, but we make exceptions for family." Cordelia nodded silently.

I swallowed, trying not to cough up bodily fluid on her shoes.

"Do you love her?" Samara asked sharply, her gaze boring into my forehead.

I nodded fervently.

"Of course, after all it is she who is cursed and not you. We will give you one chance to make amends and one chance only."

Straightening herself, the mother loomed above me as the three gazed down at my pitiful form, lying in filth. They held hands and spoke with one voice, a booming tongue that shook the ground and pierced my skull, making ears ring.

"You will seek out the Greater Key and bind yourself to it, that you might free our Rowan from this curse. Do you accept?"

A fierce wind circled the trio, debris whirled around them, energy crackling and dancing over the walls. In the midst of the chaos, I rasped out my only answer.

"I do."