Free KISS THE WITCH by Dana Donovan Page B

indistinguishable
similarities now.
    Her skin, though blotched in shadows, found
a warmth of genuine luminescence all its own. I have seen that in
Lilith, but in Ursula, I had not the inkling before to notice it.
That and her face, chiseled sharply, yet softened like polished
ivory glowing in the light of candles as if sunlight fed their
flames.
    I watch her eyes come to mine, and I let her
see the path they took. Down her neck and upon her breasts. In my
mind, again I contemplated the familiar. Surely, I had seen them
before; felt them as Lilith’s own hands guided mine over them,
across her nipples, soft yet firm. And with a teasing nip, did I
not steal her breath away? Did she not shudder at my touch? I know
she did. I felt her melting to the warmth of my lips upon her.
    Was it real? No. I knew it was not. I told
myself to stop, to steer my thought and my eyes to the benign. This
was Ursula, or was it? I was not entirely sure.
    A candle sputtered at her feet. Shadows of
her toes danced in silhouette against her belly. It caught my eyes
and I did not turn away. I looked lower still, where the difference
between Lilith and Ursula came down to a matter of natural
preference, down where her pudendal veil faded into a shadowy
nook.
    “ You’re Ursula,” I
said.
    A teasing smile thinned her lips, and if not
Ursula’s grin, my instincts might have misread it as an
invitation.
    “ You’re late,” said a
voice behind me.
    I turned abruptly. A mirror image of the
woman before me sat across the room in a halo of candlelight
inexplicably bright. “Lilith?” I said, not meaning it to sound like
a question. “I didn’t see you there.”
    “ Apparently,” she said. I
knew that tone. She knew what I was thinking. Read my mind. I knew
it.
    I crossed the floor to look at her. She sat
Indian style, like Ursula, naked, but for a charm around her neck,
which I recognized as her witch’s key. Her palms lay flat upon her
knees, her posture impeccably straight, her long black hair off her
shoulders, mimicking Ursula’s, gathered and tied in the back,
exposing her neck to the nervous flicker of candlelight at her
feet.
    She inhaled deeply, and my eyes took in her
bare breasts. Firm and faultless they were, still she had nothing
over Ursula. Her skin, like her sister’s, glistened in the
highlights of her curves, mellowed like mocha in the shadows. Her
belly, flat and tight, tapered in soft departure to a sweet
retreat, clean, smooth and hairless.
    “ I thought for a minute….”
I turned and gestured toward Ursula. “I thought you were she and
she–”
    “ Forget it,” she said. “I
don’t need you thinking with your penis tonight.”
    “ What are you
doing?”
    “ Meditating.”
    “ In the nude? I thought
that came later.”
    She rocked her head back and leveled her
eyes at me the way she does when she does not want to explain, but
knows she has to.
    “ Tony. Understand this. We
all have it in us.”
    “ Have what?”
    “ The energy.”
    “ Energy?”
    “ Yes. Energy. It is the
power of life and the fuel behind magick. It is in us all. The most
potential is a mix of static and kinetic compressed in layers and
stored in neuron capacitors throughout our bodies.”
    “ You mean like the static
discharge you get when you rub your feet on carpet and touch a
doorknob?”
    “ Something like that, but
that’s not all. It is just a small part of it. There is more to
energy than the electrical equation. When we want to draw it out
for a specific task, such as our coven ceremony, we must make sure
we don’t introduce unnecessary filters or obstacles. And since we
emit energy through every inch of our bodies, it is imperative we
perform this ceremony completely nude and void of external
interferences. Do you understand?”
    I gave her a half-ass shrug. “I guess
so.”
    “ All right then. Have you
eaten?”
    “ No, as a matter of fact,
I thought I might–”
    “ Good. You can eat when
we’re done.”
    “