Author's Note: Okay, folks this is a LONG CHAPTER! So much fun to write! I hope you enjoy.
Song for this Chapter: Goddess by Cobi. This was the ONLY song I considered. Dru is in love with Sean's voice, if you'll recall. Listen to this song, and you'll understand why. This is how I imagine Sean's "private" voice...reasonant, and moving easily from powerful to expressive. YUM!
Cerridwen, I humbly beseech your presence.
Gracious Goddess , I beg for an audience.
Lady of the Moon, I cry out for your protection.
He circled within the ring of candles, repeating the words of the prayer with each circuit. The full moon shown overhead, and the sounds of campus were remote, even though he was in the dead center of Weirville--atop Lugh Hall, the place he had chosen to set his ritual. It was the middle of the night atop the highest building on campus—breaking into it, and breaking out onto the rooftop provided him a completely private refuge. And put him as high under the moon as he could get.
The place was an homage to Cerridwen. The moon was her solace.
He was shirtless within the circle, but the March night felt still and soft. The candles barely flickered. Perhaps that was because he had raised a circle of protection, calling the quarters, visualizing the sphere of energy rising around him, like he'd been taught as a child.
He didn't really need the circle. He would have to lower it, to let her inside. He supposed it was just comforting. A ritual from his childhood. A bedtime prayer. Raising a protective circle could be powerful, protective, certainly strong enough to keep a few candles alight, even for someone as unpracticed as he. Despite his non-magical lifestyle for the past seven years, he knew the secret of magic. Magic was about belief. And Dru had made him believe again.
He repeated the prayer for the third time. Cerridwen would hear him, she would come. He believed it. She would come.
As he paced, he kept his eyes on the alter he had set. The offerings of food and wine, the chalice, the athame. He had followed his mother's instructions to the letter. Today, when he'd told her of Lana's dedication at the last new moon, she had sworn that no son of hers would give himself as Lana MacBane had—so casually, without preparation, without proper commitment, with only a tattoo as a symbol. She'd made him swear to do it right.
Surprisingly, the whole ceremony had come together easily.
He hadn't forgotten the lessons of his childhood. He had been good at it, then—the rituals, the ceremony. His mother always said he'd be the leader of the coven, but there had never been a male witch in Mystic Mountain. Mystic mountain witches only gave birth to daughters in the six generations since they had settled in the mountains—until his mother had him. Despite his mother's Sight, things hadn't gone well for him, within the coven. Leaving Mystic Mountain at twelve years old had been a blessing to him. Even returning to Sabit, he'd never expected to return to this...rituals, magic, pagan yearning. But he yearned, even before his mother's command...he yearned because of Dru. Because of the magic she possessed, that she didn't understand.
He understood. The magic had burned him too, before his mother bound it.
He jerked abruptly, his heart suddenly pounding in protest at Carrie's appearance. He chastised himself for his nervousness. She looked exactly like she always did, and she had not appeared supernaturally, but out the access doorway. Still, the fact that she had come, proved it.
Carrie was Cerridwen, Goddess of Transformation. He'd prayed for her presence, and she had come.
Her copper hair darkened and her eyes lightened as she took in the scene—him, the candles, the alter. She put one hand on her skinny-jeaned hip and turned her booted foot out to the side.
"What the actual fuck, Cutie?"
He walked to edge of his circle, shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugged his bare shoulders. "You were right. There is no one on earth who can help me but you, Cerridwen."
She circled outside his perimeter of magic, assessing, quickly calculating. "So, I can assume you've declared yourself against Cernunnos, then?"
He nodded. She smiled.
"What a brave mortal you are, to oppose a god."
He turned with her as she circled him, his every breath attuning to her mood. She was irritated, but intrigued by his petition. He could banter, and she would like that, but he wanted to be honest. He thought for a response that achieved both. "No braver than the Goddess who opposed him and won her freedom."
She laughed. "True. Honestly, I thought I would cease to exist when I left him two thousand years ago. But I survived. I survived the first devastating flight, and I survived the sadder, more final sever of our union. It's possible that you may survive your conflict with him. With guidance," she emphasized.
She moved slowly, seductively forward, until she was mere inches from where Sean stood. She reached out a finger into the dark. The dome of protection Sean had raised shimmered against her touch between them. She followed the curve with a look of delight.
"You are a talented witch," she murmured and her eyes fell upon his bare chest. He was letting his magic flow freely now, so she could see it, and it clung tightly to him, inky around his chest and arms, like a skien of tattoos that rivaled Hearne's permanent marks. "And so much control, to hide it from me."
"No, you're wrong," he murmured. "I don't have much control at all. That's always been my problem. My mother put a binding spell on me years ago, to keep me from...accidents. I think it was starting to come undone anyway, but she released it today."
"Why?"
"For this. When I told her about Hearne, and Dru, and you...she said you were the only one that could protect me. She...advised me...to offer myself to you."
"And what are you offering, Sean Faraday? You ask for my protection, what will you do for me in return?" Carrie smiled wickedly at him, and his stomach twisted in knots. He couldn't tell if the witch was playing with him, but he wasn't playing.
"I'll be your priest, your emissary, your servant...your lover. For a year and a day." he replied stoically.
Carrie pressed her lips together, but her eyes were deep blue with mirth. "A year and a day? That's the time frame for a traditional mortal hand-fasting, also the time for a witch's training. Are you asking me to be your witchwife, or your teacher?"
He knew for sure now, she was teasing him, but his reply was thoughtful, "I'm asking you to be my Goddess. Is there any difference?"
She lost some of the playfulness.
"You're serious."
"You said you were a Good Witch, remember? On the side of happily ever afters."
Carrie's expression softened. "Oh Cutie, you are breaking my heart. You love Dru, but you want me to teach you how to be a sex god? I thought you were a nice guy."
"That's the problem. Make me a little less nice, Goddess, so I can compete with the fucking devil."
Carrie smothered a laugh. "You give him too much credit."
"You don't give me enough. Give me the chance to amuse you."
Carrie's hair flamed. Actual flames. She quirked her mouth and stepped back, examining his proposition.
"You're amusing me already. Look at you...your eyes are greener, and your smile more wicked, and the way your magic is inking your chest with magic tattoos that only I can see...you have an entirely different aspect than before, Cutie. I couldn't see it with your magic bound, but you're a natural born sexwitch, aren't you?"
Sean shrugged. "My magic was bound young. Now that it's released, why don't you try me and find out what I'm capable of?"
Carrie giggled. "Cutie, I am soooo tempted."
"Give in to sin, witch," Sean smiled genuinely. Carrie was actually endearing, reluctant as she was to corrupt him.
"You really believe, don't you? That you can win her from a god?"
"Yes, but I'm humble enough now to realize it will take your help."
"You are the most...unpredictable witch I have ever met."
He shrugged. "I get it from my mother."
She laughed. "I would like very much to meet her."
At that exact moment, Sean's phone rang in his pocket, and Carrie gestured her hand imperiously.
Sean pulled the phone from his pocket, looked at it with disbelief, groaned, gestured above his head with both hands, and lowered his circle with them. He slapped his phone into Carrie's hand, and stalked to the edge of the roof.
Carrie answered the phone. "Hello, witch, you are speaking with your Goddess. Your son is here with me...oh the Sight, yes, then of course you know...yes, he's offered...yes, yes of course, I adore him already... Hmmmm...I see...seven years since he's been to visit?...No, I agree, completely unacceptable...uh-huh...no...yes...not a word...yes...yes...REALLLLY?????? Well that IS a surprise! No, no, I quite understand. So much makes sense now...soon...hmm...yes, he's negotiating that point, but that's very little time to an immortal goddess...oh alright, a year and a day,fine...good...yes, yes Beltane...no, no, no more tribute necessary, you've given me your son...we will see you soon, then. Good-bye Maeve."
Sean winced at the "we will see you soon," but he cleared his expression as Carrie beckoned him. He came to stand in front of her as she slipped his phone back in his pocket and stared up at him with an expression of unbridled mirth.
"You wicked, wicked boy. You've been keeping so many secrets."
He closed his eyes. He could guess what his mother had told her. And Carrie was going to give him hell about it, he knew. "There will be no more secrets between us, if you accept my petition."
"I accept," she said simply led him by the hand to the center of the circle onto the edge of his altar cloth.
He went to his knees willingly, and when he did so, her demeanor changed. There was no more of the irrepressible sprite. At a flick of her hand, the skinny jeans were gone. For a second he was staring at her naked belly, and then she was clothed in a gown of rough cloth, dyed a pale lavender, probably, Sean thought abstractedly, spun and dyed with berries thousands of years ago. He looked up at her face. Her gown was ancient, her beauty was ageless. She no longer seemed capricious, whimsical, or silly. She looked down at him with a gentle kindness that he'd always wished his mother possessed.
She grew in stature, her hair seemed a thousand different shades of flame, and her skin glowed moonsilver, her eyes bleeding out to the same stark, universal shade. Sean felt his heartbeat slow as he watched her transformation, as if her immortality was pacing his heart.
"This is not your mother's decision, Sean," her voice was soft, and sad. "I will only become your goddess, if you truly desire. I will protect you from Hearne, even without your commitment."
Sean stomach flipped over. If it were only that simple. Protection from Hearne was only part of what he had to have.
"I desire to be yours," Sean confessed. "I desire your...training."
Cerridwen nodded understanding. She was a goddess after all. She understood the needs of men, and witches even more.
"Raise your circle, so there is nothing else but us, as you make your petition."
Sean visualized his field of protection, and he felt, more than saw, the dome encompass them. He focused upon the Goddess he set himself to worship, as he cupped the altar candle between his hands, and willed the flame to light. He'd learned to light a candle with magic at six years old, but he was still surprised to see it flame to life so effortlessly after his long dry spell of magic. He spoke the dedication he had written himself:
Gracious Cerridwen
Lamp of the Night
Keeper of the Cauldron
I set flame within my circle
To honor You
I open myself to You
Light my soul with Your understanding
Transform me by the light of Your Moon
Craft me in your Cauldron
Protect me, within your arms
Discipline my power, within your power
Give me the power to act for our mutual good
Let me worship you as no one ever has
Abide in me
As I pledge to abide in You.
Carrie, with her unfathomable silver eyes, cupped his face.
"I will abide with you, in you, around you.
You will have my inspiration, my instruction, my protection."
He took up his athame, pricked his finger, and mixed one drop of his blood into the wine with the knife.
I meet the dagger to the chalis,
And so plunge the masculine into the feminine
I commit my service to your will.
I ask that you drink deeply of my blood fealty, and bless our bond.
Carrie took one elegant sip. Tenderly, she tilted his head. With a soft hand pressed against his throat, her fingers thrusting up beneath his jaw, she angled his head to receive the wine, compelling him to drink deeply.
"I accept your fealty for a year and a day. I bless you, and offer you my comfort and protection."
The tension he felt relaxed as the wine poured down his throat, but he knew it was not from the alcohol. In the time it took for her take one sip, his witch goddess had spiked the wine with some kind of spell, and this time, unlike the last time she had drugged him, he was grateful. When the cup was empty, he took it from her hands and set it down, offering her a piece of the cake that sat upon the alter.
My goddess, I ask you bless these cakes, and taste the strength and vigor of my commitment.
He reached up as she leaned down. She bit into the spongy cake, took it from him and offered it back.
"I bless your offering, and return...inspiration."
The cake did not taste like cake, but like he imagined Carrie would taste. Wait...had he ever imagined what Carrie would taste like? He realized with an easy acceptance, he was imagining now. He felt dizzy...untethered—like he had no anchor. He grabbed her slim hips and pressed his face into her belly, to keep himself from falling over.
"What's happening?"
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his head. "Shhh. It's done. Your loyalties are expanding. Your world will right soon enough."
He swayed on his knees, clinging to the tiny goddess, but she was a strong as pillar, unwavering, becoming his new foundation. He wasn't sure how long he was on his knees before her, but when she finally bade him to rise, he was no longer untethered. He opened his eyes, and Carrie filled his vision. His heart hurt, swollen with his feelings. There were three now...Carrie, Lana, and Dru.
He didn't understand. He thought this dedication would corrupt him. He thought Carrie would usurp the others, for a year a day. He thought she would demand a singular devotion. Maybe that would come later...when they consummated the ritual.
He held onto her, climbing her body, slowly to his feet, and then looked down at the petite girl that was his goddess now. The purple dress, the silver glow were gone. She looked like the co-ed Carrie again. She squealed and hugged him tight around the chest. "This is the best date I've had in long time!"
He laughed a little unsteadily. After the heavy commitments of ritual, her light mood was both easing and disorienting. He felt weak, he wasn't used to working magic, but he tried to steady himself, and his arms went around her automatically, his instinct to comfort her a priority now.
"That's good. It's my job now...to make sure you are pleased." That was a true statement, he felt...compelled. Like a tool that fitted its wielder.
"Only for a year and a day. Then you are free.' She looked up at him with surprising amount of...innocence. "Hey, you want some ice cream?"
"Ice cream?" her suggestion surprised him.
She leaned back against his embrace, searching his face and patting his bare chest. "Yeah, you could use some carbs. Committing your mortal soul is a high-intensity exercise," she giggled, sounding about fifteen. "Then, straight to bed, or else you'll never make it to class in the morning. You can stay with me..." she said shyly, "if you think you can actually sleep..."
"Really? We aren't going to...finish the ritual?" He'd been stealing himself to being sexually claimed by his new goddess, not making a Ben N Jerry's run.
She put her head on his chest, listening to his heart. "The ritual is finished. Your heart beats for me now, as much as Dru and Lana."
"You know what I mean," he pressed. "I thought you'd want to...come first."
She snickered, and he backpedaled, "I meant..."
"I know, Cutie. You thought I'd want to screw your brains out, and ignite in you a mad unquenchable lust for me that would make you forget all about your other loyalties for a year and a day. But I am aged and wise and benevolent." She squinted an eye at him and stuck her tongue out, looking anything but aged or wise. "You have to trust me to guide you in the right way. I don't want you to think this is just some...business transaction. I'm not a wh--"
"I don't think that." He cut her off, kissing her lightly on the lips. There was a small buzz of energy, and she pulled back quickly, looking a little shocked."I think you're a goddess. My goddess," he found that the words were actually true. Jesus, he hadn't expected to really feel for her. This was very confusing. With an unfolding trust, he realized she didn't mean to take Dru and Lana from him. She would allow him...freedom, and by doing so, she was drawing a tender feeling of loyalty from him.
Carrie was rubbing her lips slightly, the sting of his kiss still lingering, a look of deep thoughtfulness on her face. "Your power is formidable. If you've been bound, and never had any sexual experience with your magic, you do need lessons in self-mastery. I took your dedication, I will not default on my promises. I am a Priestess of the Horned God—accomplished in all matters of desire, power, magical control. I will teach you all that you require. But the truth is...you're catching me off guard, here, Sean. I've never been a...a dominatrix before." She lowered her eyes, and Sean had no idea that a goddess could look embarrassed. "I need a little time to work up to it."
He felt her small frame shaking slightly in his arms, and he tightened her embrace, blown away by the fragility of the goddess he held. Underneath her power and her bitterness, she had a sweet disposition, he realized. Once, she must have been a girl not all that different from Dru. A girl who must have been hurt over and over to develop the kind of facade she now wore. A girl that hadn't understood what it would mean to be an immortal goddess. A girl who was forever trapped between her youthful impulse and godly duty.
Fucking Hearne.
He'd given Carrie immortality, made her forever young, but stolen her youth, and despite how protective Hearne still seemed to be for Carrie...Sean was sure that Hearne had been the one to hurt her more than any mortal ever could. Sean honestly didn't know if he could help Carrie, she might be frozen for all eternity in her issues...but he would die fighting against Hearne before he let him repeat the mistake on Dru.
"I could go for some ice cream," he murmured into her hair. "What's your favorite flavor?"
"Chocolate," she replied automatically.
"Figures," he pretended to grumble, giving her an overly exaggerated eye-roll and scowl.
Carrie furrowed her brows, not understanding his scowl for a second, but then realization dawned and her laughter flowed out like a babbling brook.
"Sorry, Cutie." She kissed him on the cheek and took him by the hand, leading him into stairwell. "I quite like Irish Cream, too."
He snorted and let her pull him down the stairs. Maybe this wouldn't be torture, after all.
********************************************************
The next morning, Sean opened his eyes and stared at the old, wooden rafters and open ductwork of an unfamiliar ceiling. It took him a moment to realize where he was...at Carrie's place, the space above Malone's.
You could hardly call it an apartment, however. His dorm room was more homey and comfortable. He recalled his surprise at the lack of...amenities when Carrie had brought him here last night. It was an empty space, no furniture except a mattress on the floor, no kitchen, and only one small closet in the corner that housed a toilet. The bathtub and sink were open to the rest of the room. He wondered if a goddess needed such amenities, however. She did apparently require massive amounts of clothes, make-up, scarves, jewelry, and shoes. Carrie's personal items were strewn all over the floor in piles.
Carrie wasn't in the bed, Sometime in the night they'd had a murmured argument about him sleeping on the floor, but she wouldn't let him, telling him that a goddess required no sleep, it was just a habit, and that he did need sleep to recover from his dedication. She'd left the apartment altogether, to let him rest.
Carrie had been right; it wasn't all that easy to sleep beside her. He was a hot-blooded guy, after all, and she was his goddess, now. He kept waking up in a cold panicky sweat from very sexy dreams where he was with both Dru and Carrie at the same time, and then Lana found them all together and started screaming at him.
"How could you do this to me, Sean Faraday?" she shrieked as leapt into the midst of naked bodies and punched him in the arm.
Shit. Lana. How was he going to explain this to her?
She was going to be so pissed. His magic being unbound would change everything for Lana. He had a brief hope that Maeve might intervene on his behalf, but then he remembered his childhood. His mother never involved herself in the petty grievances of the "witchlin's" —what the coven witches called their offspring. Maeve was the High Priestess of the Coven, the witchlin's were all her children, she never took sides. No, he was going to have take his punishment, when it came to Lana.
Even worse than Lana, what about Dru? Would she be angry, or hurt, when she found out about him and Carrie? Although he certainly wasn't obligated to give her an explanation, Sabit was a small place. Dru and Hearne and Carrie and he were all stuck here together on a two square mile campus. There was no way Sean would be able to conceal his connection with Carrie...he realized that now. She was his goddess, he couldn't deny her, walk around town like he didn't know her, like he didn't belong to her. But he couldn't exactly tell Dru the truth, either—could he?
Maybe he should send her a text.
Hey Dru. FYI: I committed my soul to a goddess for a year and a day for protection from your Horned God Boyfriend. Also for sex lessons. Yeah, I'm a hypocrite. We should get that coffee, after all...
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worst idea ever.
Carrie bounced through the door, jangling with jewelry, sunglasses atop her head, balancing a tray of coffees and pastries in one hand, her phone in the other. She laughed as she crossed the floor.
"What's the matter? You have the...strangest look on your face." Then she stopped in the middle of the floor. "You aren't...regretting last night, are you?"
He rose and kissed her on the top of her head as he took the tray from her. "Well, I regret that I ran you out of your own bed, but that's all."
"Don't worry about it," she waved a hand, and took a sip. "I guess we shouldn't try to sleep together, until...you know...we are actually sleeping together. I'm sure it will be easier for you, then."
He took a gulp of the coffee, "Let's hope so. Last night was...rough."
"Not as rough as it's going to be," Carrie smirked, and Sean choked. She pounded him on the back helpfully. "Relax, Sean. You really are going to have to get over this Mr. Innocent thing..." she stopped pounding, a blank expression on her face. She dropped down on the bed, staring up at him, paling. "Oh god. You're not...a virgin are you?"
"No, of course not," he sat down beside her, reaching for bag and calmly spreading a bagel with cream cheese, trying not to laugh at his goddess, who kept alternating between lust and horror at the thought of bedding him.
"Thank the gods," Carrie muttered. "I don't think I could stomach deflowering you."
Sean leaned back against the wall, chewed the bagel, trying to think of some way to make Carrie more comfortable with all of this. He decided that she might rise better to a Hearne-like challenge.
"You're really giving me a complex, Goddess." He said, his mouth full, "Surely I don't seem that unfuckable?"
He opened his arms wide gesturing down his body, which was clad only in boxers. He stared at her with a look of indignation and summoned a little heat. He could feel it whirling around him, and he watched Carrie's eyes as they traveled his chest. He wondered if he looked like he was inked again, like last night. Apparently so, she licked her lips, her eyes continued down his taught stomach.
He casually splayed his long legs, clad only in loose boxers, to give her a better few of all his attributes, and she laughed her wicked, haughty laugh, the one he had only ever heard her give Hearne. That's my goddess, Sean smirked.
His smirk was immediately erased when she climbed on top of him, kissed him full on the mouth this time. This time he felt the charge she had mentioned last night...a stinging energy, ticklish on his lips, both mildly uncomfortable and somehow arousing at the same time. Or maybe the arousing part was just Carrie—she was a goddess, after all. He reached around her, and put one hand on the small of her back, trying to seat her better, draw her closer, but she pulled back, panting a little, her eyes so light they were nearly silver, as she removed his hand before he could slide it downward.
"Nuh-uh. I'm in charge, remember?"
He grinned. "Right. Forgot, for a second."
She swiped his bagel, took a bite, her eyes calming as she chewed, Swallowing and clearing her throat, she said. "The kiss was to assure you that I find you...entirely fuckable. Now tell me, how many women have had the privilege?"
"Why do girls always want to know that?" he complained, reclaiming the bagel and finishing it in one extra large mouthful to avoid answering.
"I have no idea, but I am not a girl," she reminded him. "I am your goddess, responsible for your instruction in sexwitchery. I need to know about your past experiences. So how many? And what kind of relationships?"
He made her wait, finishing a thorough chew of the bagel. "Eight. Three girlfriends, one friend with benefits, and four hook-ups."
"Hmmm," she seemed pleased. "You are a nice guy...but at least you've had some varied experiences." Still sitting atop him, she opened the bag and pulled out a muffin top, picking at it delicately. "That should make things easier, between us. And Dru? Where do you classify her in that number?"
The playful desire he'd been feeling for Carrie plummeted when she mentioned Dru's name. Now he felt, guilty...lying here with Carrie atop him, wanting her, wanting Dru. This whole situation was confusing and...grating.
"Sean...you and Dru? Yes or no, that's all I'm asking." Carrie prompted him quietly, and he felt a pull, a mild compulsion to answer her.
Finally, he said, "No. We haven't."
Carrie offered him a bite of her muffin top, he stared at it for a moment, shook his head and swallowed more coffee.
"Hearne said you hadn't, when we first arrived, but I wasn't sure I believed him."
"How would he know?"
Carrie laughed. "He's the God of the Hunt, Cutie. His ability to scent his prey becomes more acute, the longer he stalks. He's been stalking her for months, he said he'd never smelled your scent on her. But I didn't believe him because of the Greenspark I saw between you."
"Greenspark?"
"The ignition of unusually strong love. So strong that you can weave incredibly powerful spells with it. Did you not feel it, when it happened?"
Sean was staring into space, "Groundhog's Day," he murmured.
"Yes. We were watching. I hadn't seen a spark that strong since..." she stopped. "Well, in a long time," she finished, her voice suddenly tight.
Sean looked at his goddess carefully. Since her and Hearne, that's what she wouldn't say. But he didn't press her on it. He had a feeling, as a mortal, he could never understand what was between them. And though she was Sean's goddess, he did not have the claim on her she had on him. He was her supplicant, not what Hearne had been, not her mate, her equal. He did not belong in the middle of their hot mess.
"Anyway," Carrie continued, smiling at him. "That's how I knew you loved her, even though you are reluctant to declare it openly. I can understand it's hard to say it to her, but you needn't hide it from me. I'm not jealous, you know. I'm your goddess, I understand your heart's intricacies."
"I know," Sean struggled to explain. "It just feels...disloyal somehow. What's between two people, should be between two people, you know?"
"So noble," Carrie beamed, "That's why I wanted to help you in the first place. A Greenspark is a very rare kind of love, Sean. A once in a thousand lifetimes kind of love. And speaking of your Greenspark Girl," she tilted her head toward the window. "She's about three minutes from walking right beneath us. Why don't you put your clothes on and intercept her?"
"I wouldn't know what to say right now," Sean objected, his gut twisting at the idea of coming face to face with Dru.
Carrie leapt from the bed and pulled him to his feet, throwing his jeans at him. "Your goddess will not abide cowardice. She's going to find out about us anyway. We slept in the same bed for hours last night. Hearne will smell you all over me. You better get ahead of this before he tells her."
A/N: I've been planning this for a LONG TIME! So we've got a God, a Goddess, a Sexwitch, a High Priestess, a Roman Godspawn...and a powerful Unknown (Dru). How's all this gonna end up? Don't worry...I have a plan! Vote if ya like the story so far! Thanks!