Gasping in pain, she sliced the palm of her left hand. Dropping the knife, she curled her fingers into a tight fist. After a moment, she unclenched her hand and stared at the shallow wound. As blood welled she rubbed her finders in it, until both hands where coated.
She whipped her hands on her face, and down her neck. She smeared the blood over her chest and bare breasts, stomach, legs, buttock, until every part of her body that she could reach was covered with streaked of her blood.
Picking up the knife once more she nicked a vain in her wrist. Setting the knife down, she reached for the silver goblet at sat upon the altar before her.
Holding her wrist over the goblet, and counted to ten, twice, letting her blood flow hot from the vain, into the depths of the metal goblet.
Once full, she set the goblet back on the altar, it held no more then two mouthfuls but that was enough. Pressing her thumb to the wound on her wrist, she whispered an incantation, healing her wrist and the now clotted wound on her palm.
Sitting cross legged be for the altar, the sorceress whispered another incantation, lighting the five black candles, that sat around the goblet.
The heard grasses, pricked at her ass, making it uncomfortable to sit. Shoving the discomfort from her mind, she began the summonses. After what seemed like hours, her resolve began to wane. He wasn’t coming, she should give up, go home…
No! It was now or never. He would come. He would. She opened her eyes and looked out at the spiraling maze of gave stones. When had the mist rolled in? She didn’t know. She closed her eyes and began her summons again. The mist bushed against her naked flash, sending cold shivers of pleasure down her spine. The cool air was pleasant, but it made her body, spasm with shock as the mist turned from ice, to fire.
The heat hit her in a sharp burst. Sweat ran in rivulets mixing with her blood. Her eyes sprang open, as her throat tightened; her tong was dry as she like her parched lips. Her thirst was so that her eyes immediately sought out the goblet with it’s two mouthfuls of her own blood.
But to her pleasure and dismay, the cup was boiling in the heat. Its sharp sent filling her nose.
As suddenly as the heat struck, it was gone, leaving the night cool, as if the heat had never been. The only sine that it had been there at all was the still boiling goblet of blood.
The mist seemed to thicken and then part right in front of her. He walked out of the night, as naked as she, the lower half of his body looked human, but the upper had more in common with a goat, his face like his lower half was human save for the three spiraling ram’s horns that sprouted from his head. His blue black skin glimmered in the midnight air.
And thus he looked for all but a moment, when he finally stood before her altar he had that same blue black skin, and devastatingly handsome face, but his body was that of a battle ready adult male.
Her pulse quickened as she caught the sent of him. He flashed a vicious smile at her, the white of his teeth stark against the dark of his skin.
He reached for the goblet with her blood still boiling in it, and drank deeply. Once… Twice… Before dropping the goblet to the ground discarded carelessly.
Flinging the altar and its still burning candles aside, he crouched in front of her. Running a finger down her cheek, he delicately liked the tip.
She gulped audibly, fear and lust warring equally with in her. Leonard, a demon of the first order, a grand master of sabbaths, chief of subaltern demons, inspector general of sorcery, and black magic.
He would sire a child through her, and because of what she was, that child would come to fruition, unlike that countless children he had sired with human women. Human women who bore his offspring always delivered stillborns. Only sorceress could bear his live offspring. But he hadn’t sired such a child in centuries, the spells to summon him, lost to her kind for generations. Or so they had thought.
But she had found those spells and now he was here. He covered her as he pushed to the ground, gently licking the blood from her neck. His touch was both hot and cold, it burned and it soothed. Too many sensations filled her as he took her.
Emily opened her sleep crusted eyes with some difficulty. What an odd dream, she rubbed her eyes trying to recapture the images she had seen, the dream had been about her mother, but when she was younger before she had had Emily, she thought, there had been a man too, and her mother had been performing some kind of spell, but she couldn’t remember what and the harder she tried the faster the dream slipped away.
Well what ever it had been it was just a dream, it wasn’t important. At least that’s what she told her self, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important. That the dream held a truth about her past. An important truth that she needed to know.
With a sigh she flung off her blankets and swung her legs to the floor, but stopped when she felt a trickle of wetness down her legs. Pulling up her night gown she stared dumbly at the dark substance that coated her thighs. Running a finger thought it, she tried to get her sleep addled brain to focus.
Oh shit… Oh shit! Standing she turned to stair at the small puddle of blood in the center of her bed, that now stained her sheets.
“Oh shit!” she whispered vehemently.
“Shit. Shit. Shit!” She chanted racing into the bathroom.
She wasn’t ready for this, she wasn’t ready for what it meant.
“Hon?” Her mother’s voice drifted through the closed door.
What could she say? What could she do? With that appearance of her monthlies, her powers would now begin to manifest. She was now a sorceress coming into her full power. She could perform small magics before, but now…? She wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t ready at all.
“Emily?!” Came her mother’s voice now worried. The door knob turned, her mouth was bone dry, blood pounded in her ears. What could she do? The door swung inward, and there her mother stood taking in the sight of her. Worry quickly turning to understanding.
“Oh Hun.” Her mother’s voice was thick with tears.
“Mama” She said her voice just a thick. She swallowed, tears filling her eyes as she flung her self at her mother.
Elizabeth closed the door to Emily’s room, the cup that had held a healing brew in hand, she made her way to the kitchen. The day she had dreaded and longed for had finally come. Emily was coming into her powers, all of her powers.
Elizabeth knew that the girl’s sorceress powers would begin to bloom soon, but now so would her demonic powers and a daughter of Leonard posses the power of metamorphosis, being able to transform into animals.
The transformations would begin soon; she couldn’t put off telling the girl about her father any longer. It would have to be tonight. The first night of her Initiate Ceremony. The ceremony lasted three days, Emily would start her fist term at W.K. Academy in five days.
Elizabeth couldn’t decide if it was luck that the girl had started now, or divine intervention. Demons rarely took and interest in their offspring, but Leonard rarely produced live offspring.
She chewed the tip of her left thumb nail worriedly, best to tell the girl as soon as possible. Yes. As soon as she woke. She thought walking into the kitchen.