Ishtar Bound Page 3

  “I used to love the club scene, but just don't have much time for dancing these days.”

  “That's a shame. You should really make time.” She chastised him.

  “I might be tempted to, if you'd promise to be my regular dance partner. I haven't been out in ages, but JD and Lucas were insistent about coming out tonight. JD was a driven man. They dragged me off of my couch and away from my book, completely deaf to my objections.”

  “Well, your book's loss is my gain. JD did have to be here tonight, he wouldn't have been able to stay away, but you and Lucas weren't under the same compulsion. I'm glad he dragged you two out.”

  “Me too” he muttered as Maeve lifted his arm and placed it around her bare shoulders.

  Lucas, Elle and Sara bounded up the stairs over to the bar right next to the couch where Aaron and Maeve were snuggled up.

  “What are we drinking tonight?” Lucas asked the hotties that flanked him.

  It was Maeve that answered him. “Water. Juice or soda's okay too, but absolutely no alcohol for us girls” she called over her shoulder without even looking at Sara and Elle.

  “Not you too! My world's filled with teetotalers!” Lucas complained. He ordered two waters and a whiskey sour.

  Maeve warned him, “Careful you don't get whiskey dick – I'm pretty sure you're gonna get lucky tonight, if you play your cards right.” Behind her, Lucas quietly changed his drink order and paid for three waters.

  Aaron was intrigued, “So you don't drink?” He hadn't met many club girls who didn't.

  Maeve answered quite candidly, “No, we need to keep our heads about us when we're away from home.”

  “But you sent that champaign to JD and Pinky over there, so you're not totally against alcohol.”

  “Well, I never really drink. We're not opposed to it, but only partake sparingly. With Jolie and JD, it's a little different; there's cause for celebration for them. Under the circumstances, I thought a bottle of bubbly would be acceptable.”

  Aaron had the beginning of several questions swirling around in his head trying to formulate, but he started with the most obvious one. “What exactly are they celebrating?”

  “Their first night as a match. I know it seems crazy to you, but they're a couple even though they only just met. Just look at them, they're clearly falling in love. We like to mark a couple's first meeting after a matchmaking.”

  Aaron looked across the way. He did think they looked that way, intertwined and speaking intimately as they were. He couldn't see much difference in the way they looked and the way he knew Maeve and himself looked. He wondered why they too were not celebrating their first night as a match, but then his thoughts were cleared by the next question fully forming itself. “Why do you keep referring to yourself as 'we' and 'our'?”

  “Sorry, it's habit. Jolie, the two girls with Lucas, and I all belong to a sorority of sorts.” She turned him from the follow-up subjects she knew were coming. “So are you one of the teetotalers Lucas was talking about?”

  “I never drink at all if I am gonna be driving. I'm the self assigned designated driver. I do, sometimes enjoy the occasional beer or cocktail, but only at home and only in moderation. My body lets me know in no uncertain terms when I've abused it too much. I was already cutting back, but when my father died I pretty much quit all together.” He answered her unspoken query, “His blood alcohol was under the legal limit, but he still managed to wrap his car around a tree on the way home from the bar.”

  “I'm so sorry, Aaron. Is your mother still alive?”

  “Sort of. She had a stroke a few years back and lives in a home now that Dad's not around to help take care of her. Her brain suffered massive damage and she can't communicate much at all. I hold out hope, but I can't afford the care and therapy she needs.”

  They sat in silence for a moment and Maeve thought about what it would be like to be trapped inside a body that cannot be made to obey you. She pondered the capacitors and hoped that they did not feel that way about their petrified existence. Elle seemed pretty sure about their positive mental status, but there were many sisters who doubted it. She forced her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. “I'm sorry for your loss. It must have been hard to basically lose both parents so close together. My parents are alive, but they're lost to me too.”

  The mood was abruptly changed when Sara skipped over and sat on the coffee table in front of them. “Lucas asked if we want to go back to his place tonight. I told him we'd have to ask you.”

  Maeve thought of the treat in store for Lucas once he got those two girls to his house. “Tell Lucas that was exactly what I had in mind. Where's Jolie?”

  “Lucas says JD and Jolie are already headed that way. They walked since they drank that champaign. And it's not far – just over on Webster Street around the corner. Can we walk too? It's so nice out.”

  “No, I'm sorry; it's just too dangerous to be walking out this late. Jolie shouldn't have done it either; she isn't thinking clearly tonight. You'll have to ride with me.”

  Sara pouted a little bit but did not protest. Aaron wondered why Maeve was in charge of these two girls. This one was younger than Maeve, but the other one looked about the same age. They must be junior sisters in this sorority Maeve said they all belonged to, Aaron reasoned.

  “You're coming too, I hope, Aaron?”

  “At least for a little while.” Aaron replied and hoped it came off as nonchalant as he wanted. He was never a good liar and wanted to tell her that he would go anywhere she wanted as long as she wanted him to be there with her, but he didn't. He felt proud that he could play it so cool in the presence of this goddess.

  ***

  The all night coffee shop was not bustling with customers but there were enough patrons for the wait staff to have their hands full. Enough that the man in the back corner on a communal computer did not stick out as he should have.

  He typed in the web address and waited for the site to load. He waited patiently as the intro page with their picture and names came up.

  “Can I warm you up, honey?” The waitress offered. When he did not answer, she mistakenly thought he hadn't heard her. She bent over him, looking over his shoulder at what had his attention so captivated. She said, “You want anything, sweetie?”, so close to his face he could smell her breath. She stank of stale cigarettes, bologna and over worked deodorant.

  He spun his head around to look at the ill-smelling intruder and got an eyeful of tan wrinkly cleavage. He thought, Curiosity KILLED the cat, you nosy reeking bitch. But he smiled and said, “No thanks. Just checking my email and then I'm leaving. I got somebody waiting on me, Barb.” He got her name off of the name tag dangling close to his face.

  She returned the smile. “Just let me know if you change your mind.” she said as she moved on to the next table with her regular and decaf decanters, her backside sashaying side to side. When she leaned over to fill up the next customer’s cup, he caught a peak of her pink panties.

  His mind drifted off to the wonderfully exquisite pain he could cause her. He could not help it; the thought of her tears aroused him. He had changed his mind; he did want something. He wanted to see the fear in her eyes and smell the salty rusted copper and iron of her blood. Surely that would get her unholy bodily stench from his nostrils. Her insides had to smell better than her outsides. His pants felt uncomfortably tight all of a sudden. He felt a pang of guilt. Hers were not the tears and fear he craved. This one didn't deserve his attention. He felt unclean; how could he have betrayed his love with lust for the blood and pain of another?

  He needed to get back to business. He looked back at the screen and the site had popped up. John and Mary were getting married tomorrow. Or at least they thought they were. That was their plan. He had a different plan for them. He entered the password she had given him and their whole world opened up for him to access. Look, pictures of them in their favorite places. How nice that they felt so safe. He studied their hangouts and memorized their faces
. They were perfect, just what he was looking for. Their blood would make her cry, especially when she realized it was on her hands.

  Chapter 3

  She had been wrong. Maeve had told Margaux and Nathalia that she thought Sara might be ready to fly solo. After last night, if either got wind of this, it would be months before they let her try again. It was a shame that Sara did not have the confidence or courage to succeed, but no good would come now of harshing her roll.

  Sara was high. Worse than that, she had attempted a matchmaking while intoxicated. She'd botched it. Only time would tell what effects Lucas would suffer. Right now she needed to take care of her apprentice.

  Maeve had decided on the drive home that she would try to keep this between the three of them. Elle had agreed not to talk about it, but if the Abbess asked her directly she would not tell a lie. Maeve was going to do the official report herself so that her companions would not have to face Nathalia. Maeve didn't want Sara to suffer demotion or, worse, expulsion.

  Elle had gone to her room and gone to bed. Maeve took Sara the one place on the compound Nathalia would never accidentally find her. The boys annex. The abbess insisted they have their own wing, separate from the main building and the majority of the women. Nathalia often spoke of men as second class citizens. 'They are rapists and murderers and we have no place for them in our utopia', she would often say. Men were the one thing she and Maeve fought about. Maeve gave in and kept herself quiet on the issue. She knew better than most what reasons Nathalia had to hate men.

  But someone needed to look after Sara while she came down and Israel was just the man for the job. He was a DJ and was very familiar with the ways of the raver. She knew he would be just getting in; after all, he worked last night. She had called him from the car, but had not explained why she needed him, just that she did.

  His studio apartment had been unlocked, just like he said it would be. It was a mess, also just like he said. She helped herself to the cleanest tee shirt she could find, finally able to safely remove her corset. She rolled it into a long flat tube and tucked it into her back pocket. Maeve twisted her hair up and lay on the couch planning out her report in her head, when he came in.

  He carefully laid down his case full of vinyls in its place behind the door and locked the door behind him. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together greedily with a big grin on his face. Maeve sat up and he threw his leg behind her, sliding in so that he was seated in arrears of her on the couch. He started to massage her neck, firmly, just the way he knew she liked it.

  “Izzy...” She hesitated because it felt so good. “You need to save those magic hands. I hate to stop you,” She rolled her head forward and he found the painful lump in her neck and began to work the tension out of it. “But don't waste your energy. You're going to have your hands full.”

  Just then Israel heard the shower. He left his leg behind her but slid off to the side a little so he could look at her. “You didn't call me for you?”

  Maeve shook her head. Israel was her friend and they had fooled around plenty in the past. They spent a lot of time together since he was her facilitator at the club when she did her small magic there.

  “Disappointing. So what's up and who's in my bathroom?” He knew Maeve wouldn't have torn him from his after party unless she needed something. He was hoping that she needed him.

  They were alone, so Maeve just spilled the beans. “Sara, my Sophomore Vinculum, took something. She was trying to do her first solo Matchmaking and was worried she wouldn't climax.“ Vinculum power couldn't be pulled from the communal pool, but had to be built and fashioned in the moment. It came from orgasm. In the end the drug had not helped her, but made it even harder to concentrate. Maeve could have told her that would happen if she had asked permission. “I guess we're not as close as I thought.”

  Izzy slid down, wrapping his legs around her waist and pulled her close with them. His hand snaked out and grabbed the back her neck, pulling her ear close. “Maybe she just didn't think someone like you could understand her difficulties.” His other hand spanned her throat for a moment before sliding down to caress her more than ample breasts. He kissed her ear as he said, “Not everyone can cum just from this.”

  Maeve quivered. She closed her eyes for a second as her breath whooshed out. He knew her. They often joked about her eargasms. Maeve had a dozen hot spots that could activate quick arousal. Some were capable of spontaneous orgasms. “Izzy...please...”

  “I do love it when a pretty girl begs me.”

  “No, seriously. You have a long day ahead of you and I have to figure out who gave Sara the unauthorized dose AND how to keep her out of trouble.”

  Israel leaned back resting on the arm of the couch, putting space between them. He left his legs, one behind her and one across her lap. He put his hands behind his head. “The who is easy, sweetheart. Sara rooms with Tara Kay. We went to the same high school. She had some kind of breakdown in middle school when the trailer she lived in got repossessed. After that she was known to be the go to girl if you had an itch needed scratchin'. She could always get anything that grows and could make things that felt the same as ecstasy, acid or Ketamine. They don't call her Special K for nothing. Maybe she decided she'd do anything not to be poor again. Now she doesn't have to worry about that. I mean, the Daughters have all the funds she could need. I thought she'd quit, but I've seen her dealing. It's hard not to see everything that happens on the floor of Heaven from the DJ booth. I thought she might be following orders.”

  “Not that I know of. Nathalia would never approve of that. She barely lets the Ingenium make more than strong tea. I'm going to have to keep this secret and hope, for mine, Sara's and Tara's sake, that she never finds out. I don't have to tell you that you can't tell anyone.”

  “Loud and clear, sweetheart. My lips are sealed. Don't worry about this loose end. I'll take care of her and keep her out of trouble while she comes down. Do you know when she took it?” Izzy looked around his apartment, trying to decide what Sara would need first. Music and dim lights were the first order of business. He got up and pulled the light blocking shades and turned on his laptop.

  “I'm not sure, probably around 4. I don't think she's peaking anymore, but it's hard for me to tell. Help her enjoy it. I'll issue her punishment later. Keep her from worrying about it right now, though.”

  Izzy was in his kitchenette pouring two orange juices. “You brought her to the right man. She can stay here for today and maybe tonight if she wants to. I don't have any plans and she'll have to rest sometime. We'll sleep it off together.”

  He came over and hugged Maeve as she got up to leave. “You're a good friend. Thanks.”

  He followed her to the door, “You’re welcome. You owe me one.” He smiled and blew her a kiss and then locked her and everyone else out.

  ***

  Maeve knew where she could find almost everyone – the sacred ficus grove. Even the Abbess was there helping to harvest a crop of figs. These fruit were especially holy as they had matured under the convergence of celestial bodies of power. They must be harvested as soon as possible since their ripening in December was impossible to explain to outsiders.

  The secret to year round fig crops was in the soil. This was their cemetery. This natural burial cemetery was the main reason a place like this had been chosen for the Sisterhood. The grounds were already consecrated as proper burial grounds by the Catholic Church. No sister believed in the earth being made holy by men, but sometimes it was easiest to go around the paperwork by traveling the path of least resistance.

  Everyone worked quickly and quietly; each filling their own basket with the sacred fruit. Tara Kay was working alone at one end of the grove. Maeve sidled up and started working along side her. Nathalia immediately left her own post and approached the two of them. Maeve waived over the Ingenium Primo, Tara Kay's mentor, and said to Tara in a low voice, “Go along with what I say and don't let on anything about what you already gave Sara. It's th
e only way to keep you both from getting into serious trouble.”

  Tara looked shocked for a moment and then went right back to work. She barely acknowledged the Matchmakers command, but Maeve knew she heard. Nathalia and Ingrid got there about the same time. They were all dressed for the event, and Maeve wished she had grabbed her sweater before coming out. It was starting to warm up, but the grove was very shady.

  The two Ingenium were as different in appearance as Maeve and Nathalia were. The four of them made quite the odd grouping. Ingrid was older, a hippie really, with long graying brown hair that hung down to her waist. It had little braids and beads throughout. She wore no make up and was more wrinkled than her age would demand. She managed to be pretty and pleasant to look at, even with her thin lips and tan skin. Her brown skirt with mirrored pieces sewn into it in a wavy pattern and her tie-dyed green tank could only be described as groovy. Tara Kay had green shoulder length hair that somehow managed to look perfectly natural. Her eyes were more vibrantly green than should have been humanly possible and her full pink lips were the exact opposite of Ingrid's. She was extremely pale and her blue veins stood out in contrast to that skin shade. Maeve had often fantasized about tracing the natural lines with her tongue, but that wasn't going to happen. Where Ingrid grew up in an era of free love, Tara Kay did not do chicks. She had an obsession with rainbows and Maeve counted 5 on Tara's outfit today. Ingrid and Tara Kay were two sides of the Earth Mother type coin; one went to Woodstock, the other to the Electric Daisy.

  “Nice night?” the Abbess asked informally.

  “Yea, lovely, but not entirely successful. Jolie met her match and I gave her permission to stay with him for a while.” Nathalia made no attempt to hide her disappointment when Maeve confirmed the match was a heterosexual one.

  “You couldn't even try to make it a girl?”