Under A Velvet Cloak (20 page)

Read Under A Velvet Cloak Online

Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Paranormal, #Urban Fantasy, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Adult, #Young Adult, #Epic, #Erotica

He did not reply. He simply bore her down on the thick cushions that floored the bower. Her loin yearned to him; she was eager for his divine penetration. But she had another mission, and decided to gamble in the hope of making progress.

She locked her legs together. She knew this would not stop him long; the mere touch of his conducive member would cause her to open them wide in welcome. But she hoped to bluff him. “First talk to me. Who are you?”

He paused, seeming amused. Then, to her half surprise, he spoke. “You seek to bargain, half-mortal girl?”

Victory! “You can have me unwilling, if you prefer. But if you want me joyful, you must meet me part way.”

“You have unusual spirit.”

“Who are you?” she repeated firmly.

“Merely an anonymous afreet.”

“A what?”

“An air demon from Arabia. There is no precise equivalent in occidental mythology.”

She extended her Seeing, but the man remained opaque. She had no power over him. He was obviously supernatural. She relaxed, having gotten as much as it seemed she could. She was desperate for the completion of his embrace.

He took her swiftly, thrilling her has he had before, and she participated fully. “You are the most luscious creature I have encountered in years.”

“Then come to me more often,” she said.

“Perhaps I shall.” He paused, perhaps in thought, then changed the subject. “Is your existence ordinary, pretty vampire?”

“No. I have a case against the Incarnations of Day.”

“Ah. What is that?”

There seemed to be no harm in telling him that much. “My baby has a taint, a curse. They refused even to listen to my plea for help.”

“They are arrogant,” he agreed. “But neither mortal nor half mortal can make much of an impression on them. It is the other way around: they control your lives and deaths.”

“What could make an impression?”

He smiled. “Another Incarnation.”

Did he know what she was seeking? She could not be sure. “I sought all those I could find.”

“So you did. A remarkable achievement. You are correct: your existence is not ordinary. Perhaps that is why you intrigue me. Yet it seems you have been balked.”

“So it seems,” she agreed.

“Has anything supernatural actively interfered with your life course?”

That was an interesting way to phrase it. “I am aware only of tacit balki-ness. But I am determined to overcome it.”

“Perhaps you will.” Then he proceeded to another bout of love, which she was more than glad to oblige. It was evident that he possessed supernatural potency, that incited her complementary passion.

She slept in his strong embrace. When she woke, he and the bower were gone. She was lying on the leafy forest floor. But it had not been imagination; the evidence of his passion was in her body. The lingering fluid was like a warming balm, generating both satisfaction and new hunger. It spread from her channel into her body, pleasantly diffusing.

Jolie remained wary of the afreet, if that was really what he was. He had enormous magical power, and seemed to know a lot. Yet he had been questioning Kerena, and she suspected she knew what he was seeking: information about Jolie herself. She had been interfering with the girl’s life. What was his interest? She was not at all easy about this.

Yet the timelines had not blurred. Whatever effect the afreet had, was in accordance with the proper course of history. All she could
do
was let it be. But this was another disquietingly
odd
turn. Jolie had had no idea that there would be such mysteries connected with her mission.

A few days later, as Kerena was pondering approaches, she became aware of a presence via her Seeing. “Lilah,” she said immediately.

The presence floated close. Kerena put out one hand, touching the region.
Lilah,
the ghost agreed.

“Can you help me fathom the powers of Night?”

The ghost took faint form as a strikingly lovely woman. “Why should I?” Her thought was not audible, but as Kerena attuned she was able to receive it as such.

“I can lend you my body for a time.”

Lilah considered. “It is undead.”

“But indistinguishable from living, when among the living, and as responsive as ever.”

“Give me half your time.”

Kerena laughed. “What, my waking time? You’ll get no more than the time you give me, providing information. An hour.”

“An hour among the living, an hour at a time, at my choice, until the time matches.”

“Far from here, where I am not known. I must maintain anonymity.”

“Agreed.”

This was too easy. “And I must agree to the hour you want, so that it is convenient to my schedule.”

“Agreed.”

Kerena didn’t quite trust this, but if the ghost reneged on anything, the deal would end. “Agreed. Now tell me who you are. Your personal history.”

“That counts as time.”

“Agreed, within reason.”

“I am Lilah, a version of Lilith, a once mortal woman. I was Adam’s first wife, until he rejected me and took that feckless slut Eve instead. I swore vengeance.”

“But Adam was the first man, and Eve the first woman.”

“Revisionist history,
I
was the first woman. I gave him the hottest sex he could imagine. But the fool wanted a virgin, and I was cast aside and banned from Eden. But I got him back: I sent the serpent to tempt the innocent girl with the knowledge of good and evil. After that she was no more virginal than I. God was angry; he blasted me to bits. But he still had to expel them, because Eden is not for the knowledgeable.”

Kerena was amazed. If this was to be believed, this was no ordinary ghost. This was a historic nemesis.

“You doubt?” Lilah inquired. “I see you are a sexual innocent.”

Kerena realized she was being baited, and refused to rise to it. “Go on with your history; it interests me.”

“Now that Eve was no longer innocent, she had at it with Adam, and they begat dozens of brats. Cain was an early one; I whispered in his ear, infuriating him over a childish argument, and he slew his annoying brother Able. Further vengeance. When he was banished for that, I came to him as a child of Nod and taught him what sexual passion was all about, and bore him more dozens of brats, as I had done with Nod before him.”

“But you were the age of his mother,” Kerena protested.

“Older; remember, I was the first woman. But we lived a long time in those years. I was as sexy as I am now.” The ghost did a little dance with breasts and bottom, showing both bouncing as she spun around. Her figure was fuller than Kerena’s, and the rippling flesh was impressive. “Except that I didn’t; he got a notion for a young virgin, as his lout of a father had-what
is
it about virgins?-so I slew her, and the ungrateful lout slew me. I was furious.”

Kerena was coming to appreciate that this was one mean spirited entity. But one with no hesitation expressing herself. If she knew any secrets, she would surely tell them. “Furious,” she echoed.

“So I hung around as a ghost, observing secrets, studying techniques, and every so often I was able to animate the body of an unwary girl and make her perform as never before. Some of them got themselves stoned as witches, but what a time I had before it came to that. I remember infiltrating Lilah, a formerly cow-like creature with nothing to recommend her other than her voluptuous body. I gave her initiative and guile, causing the Philistines to recruit her for a key mission. She then seduced that muscular ignorant Israelite Samson and betrayed him to the Philistines. They blinded him, chained him to a wall, and used him for stud duty to generate sturdy dull boys like himself. But me they ignored, after I accomplished my mission. So I tempted an official, and whispered in his ear, and got him to anchor Samson between two columns of their temple during a festival. Naturally the brute heaved hard enough to bring the temple down on his head and on all the celebrants, including those who had ignored me. I never tire of vengeance against idiots.”

And she didn’t like to be ignored, Jolie saw. Lilah’s history was an exercise in braggadocio, for all that that term would not be coined for another thousand years. She knew Lila, as the variant spelling went, from her own timeline, a notorious creature, but hadn’t realized that Kerena had associated with her.

“I think I have the essence,” Kerena said. “What
do
you know of the powers of Night?”

“Everything, of course. But first give me my hour.”

Kerena considered, and concluded it was best to
do t
hat now, to keep the cynical ghost cooperative. “Do you have a distant setting in mind?”

“Eastern Roman Empire, where decadence exists in style. Constantinople.”

Kerena had never heard of it, but was amenable. “What direction?”

“Southeast.”

Kerena dressed, oriented and phased down for rapid travel. The ghost followed. Kerena wasn’t sure exactly how ghosts moved, but wasn’t surprised.

Soon they came to the great decadent city. It was far larger than any Kerena knew. It was surrounded by a great wall, but it was hard to imagine an army large enough to represent a threat to such a vast metropolis.

Beyond the city was a large estate with a villa. Murals on the walls depicted fabulous erotic scenes. People were arriving; it seemed it was time for a party. The ghost evidently knew how to sniff out such events.

“Now,” the ghost said as Kerena stood in an empty chamber admiring a scene wherein three nymphly maidens were seducing a willing man.

“Take it-for an hour,” Kerena said, and let Lilah in.

“Well now,” Lilah said, assuming control of the body. “I forgot the costume; your primitive rags won’t
do.
Fortunately slaves are nude for this type of service.” She removed the dress and stood bare.

A robed man entered the chamber, wearing bright jewelry: apparently a member of the governing class. “Ho-I don’t recognize you,” he said. He spoke in Greek, but Kerena discovered she could understand it. The ghost’s control had evidently lent her knowledge of the language, or she had somehow assimilated it from the context. There were things about magic she had yet to fathom.

“I am a slave from afar,” Lilah said, winsomely. “Just in today, for this event.”

“Ah. Let me look at you.” He took hold of her and eyed her torso, which she eagerly displayed to advantage. “You’ll do.” He bore her back and proceeded to sex without further preliminary. There was no pretense of mutuality; it was all for himself, but Lilah cooperated enthusiastically.

“It’s good to have a body again,” she said as the man got off her and went off in search of wine.

So it seemed. Kerena had shared in the sensations of the act, but as sex went, this was not much. The man’s dry member had been abrasive until liquifying, and technique had been absent.

But as it turned out, there was a good deal more to be had at this party. In the next hour Lilah managed to set up a two man, three woman conjunction that did indeed have aspects Kerena hadn’t seen before. It seemed the Romans and the ghost took their sex seriously. It was a considerable orgy.

“Your hour is done,” Kerena said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, it is. Time to go home and study the forces of Night.”

“No it isn’t.”

“What are you talk about? We made a deal.”

“I lied. I know nothing about the forces of Night, and I am keeping this body. It’s a good one, despite being not fully alive.”

“That does it. I’m taking it back now.” Kerena moved to
do
so.

And was balked. The ghost refused to relinquish control, and she had experience with this kind of conflict. Possession provided power. “You fool innocent girl, you threw it away. It’s mine now.”

Kerena realized that she had walked into a trap. She had blithely assumed that a given deal would be honored by both parties. She had indeed been a fool.

Yet Jolie noted that the timelines were not fudging. This sequence was true to both realities. This was one Kerena had to fight through on her own.

She did. The ghost had taken control of the actions of the body, but not its substance. Kerena thinned it down to ghostly texture, then steered it through a wall and away. She was gone, leaving the ghost behind, as there was no longer any substance to hold on to. She was free.

How did you know to do that?
Jolie asked, surprised.

“Morely taught me, when I told him of my plan to negotiate with a ghost. He warned me of their tricks.”

That was a revelation to Jolie, who had not picked up on Morely’s more recent instruction.
You could have done it with me, too.

“I trust you.”

There it was: she remained with this woman by tolerance, not right or ability. Kerena was far from the innocent girl she once had been.
Thank you. But I can’t help you study Night.

They were headed back toward England. “I need a local ghost I can trust. A friend.” She brightened. “Molly!”

Jolie did not speak. As it happened, she knew Molly very well; they were associate ghosts in her own reality. She was an excellent choice. But she did not dare provide information that might change the timelines.

In due course Kerena sought Molly. She went to the old town where Molly had died. The experience with Lilah had at least taught her how to interact with ghosts.

Kerena wasn’t sure exactly where to find the ghost, so started at the obvious place: the brothel where they both had worked. It was under subsequent management, the daughter of the madam Kerena had known, who of course did not recognize this pretty stranger as a former house girl. “Why yes, we do have a ghost. That’s Molly, who worked here but was killed by a client. We gave her a room out of sentiment. Some of our older clients remember her, and she’s shapely and friendly.”

“I’m not a client, but I would like to talk with her. I’ll pay a client’s fee.” She proffered silver.

“You have the room for an hour,” the woman said, gratified.

The room was small but nice; they were taking proper care of their ghost. Molly’s presence probably enhanced their reputation.

Kerena stood beside the bed. “Molly, do you know me?”

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