Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
“I totally could,” Skylar grumbled to herself as she tucked in the last chair and wiped down the last table.
Over the speakers, loud, upbeat phonk music played, and she lightly headbanged, wiggled her shoulders in a little dancey dance, and spun as she cleaned. The shutters were down, hiding from the world that she was enjoying her own company as she tidied up The Bean Alchemist to perfection.
Her magic was weak enough that she couldn’t conjure brooms and rags to clean, but she was able to blow all dust into nothingness.
The windows had a perfect shine to them, and despite Hank thinking he was an amazing cleaner, she ensured every bit of grease was gone with a special concoction that made her kitchen the cleanest one in all of Sydney.
“I could totally summon a boyfriend,” she repeated for the sixth – or was it seventh? – time. “Or at least someone to rail me into oblivion. Surely there’s a spell in one of my grimoires.”
If she summoned a demonic being who was bound to pleasure her the way she wanted, then she wouldn’t feel too bad if he tapped and left. A naughty trade. Sex would be the reason she summoned him, so there would be no need to talk about commitment or pretend things were more than what they were.
She grabbed her bag from underneath the counter, slung the black bat backpack over her shoulder, and headed to the door to leave.
I just have to make sure I’m not sacrificing my soul or something. She may be horny, but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice that.
As she went to open the door, a knock came from the other side.
The darkness of late evening was cut through by the streetlights and the glare of dozens of headlights passing every minute on a busy road.
The choke of fumes billowing in the air of a dirty street made her nose wrinkle every time she left her crispy-clean shop.
The quiet was eviscerated by rushing cars, horns, the train station just across the road, and music from a nightclub a few buildings down.
All of it blared in her ears.
Malcom, with his laptop bag strapped across his torso, held out a plastic bag stamped with the logo of her favourite Vietnamese restaurant from down the road. “Hank told me you haven’t eaten today, and Larry is just down the road watching your café. I’m walking you home.”
Grumbling, Skylar took the Pho with a “thanks” and cautiously looked around. She couldn’t see Larry, but the guy was a stalker who had a nasty habit of trying to follow her home. It’s why she had a knife clipped to her keyring and had no worries about pulling it if she needed to.
Malcom nodded, and they fell into step with each other as they began their journey through the bustling streets.
The area was always full of people, the suburb busy even on a Monday evening and well into the middle of the night.
Even now, with the sun halfway to setting, many walked around intoxicated, some even arm in arm as they laughed and stumbled together.
As much as tourists – and even those living within Sydney – thought Newtown was the most amazing, alternative place to visit, it had a lot of dangerous drawbacks.
Skylar, although only five foot three, was all bite if someone dared to near her, and she’d rather use her knife to ward back thieves and creeps, since she didn’t want to out her witchcraft.
At least not again – although she did give the violent woman a horrible spook when she tried to mug her on the way home one night.
Skylar was known in the area due to the café and living nearby. It meant her movements could easily be mapped, leaving her open to some shitty situations.
The silence between them was comfortable; both were reclusive in their own way, finding small talk less than appealing.
Malcom even wore his headphones, and she noted the light thump coming from them.
She preferred to listen out for danger, or the sounds of bats chirping as they flew overhead, leaving their resting places now that night was truly upon them.
After walking for fifteen minutes, her street grew visible. She gestured to Malcom, and he flicked one ear cup back to listen.
“Thanks again for walking me home,” she said as they passed old, near-vintage houses that blended from one suburb to the other, growing larger and less squished together the further they went from the main street.
It became less dirty as well, although rubbish and smashed glass was visible almost every ten metres next to curbs or on the sidewalks.
“You keep thanking me, but it’s seriously no problem.
It’s not far for me to deviate from home, since I live on the other side of Stanmore.
” He didn’t smile – he was rather stoic like that – but there was a kindness in his eyes she only saw in those who had been broken repeatedly by life and refused to watch others suffer.
“Plus, I like walking with you. Better than being by myself.”
“I guess that’s true,” she answered, hugging her warm, brothy food.
Kaylee... what are you doing? You have this nice guy, who is pretty cute-looking, waiting for you, and you’re dating that dickhead.
Like usual, especially when Malcom walked her home for her safety, she wanted to lovingly strangle the woman.
When they made it to the top of her street, and it was fine for her to walk the short distance to her place, they parted ways. As always, he watched to make sure she got to her gate before heading off towards his own home.
The moment he was gone, she rushed to her front door.
No animal greeted her, although she would have loved one if she had the time to properly care for it.
The screeching yowls from a cat or an energetically barking dog would have been nice to come home to, and she tried not to think about the way her home welcomed her with cold silence.
She unzipped her big boots, kicked them off next to the entryway, toed off her socks, and hurried deeper into her home.
The building was like most in the area – narrow, to shove as many houses into one suburb, and two storeys.
The only room upstairs besides the bathroom overlooked the street, and she used it as an office.
Her house was old, well-loved and lived-in, and had a musty smell to it she could never find the source of.
Skylar had lined the fleur-de-lis wallpapered walls with gothic décor, antique mirrors, and interesting, spooky art.
If someone were to walk into her home, they’d likely think she was some kind of modern vampire and not a witch.
That, or she shopped for furniture during Halloween.
Which she did.
Not a single potted plant existed, as she’d killed every cactus, succulent, and even a self-maintaining terrarium. She’d never had a green thumb.
She went to her office – which housed her personal library – on the second level and pulled all three of her grimoires from her bookshelf.
Returning downstairs, she carted her dinner from the hallway table to the dining table, then placed it down with the three heavy leatherbound books and sat in one of the four emerald-cushioned chairs.
After pouring in her desired chilli oil, hoisin sauce, a squeeze of lemon, and removing all the bean sprouts, she cracked her disposable chopsticks apart and ate with the provided paper spoon.
She kept her books out of the firing line of the chicken broth as she slurped flat white rice noodles and flicked through the pages carefully, scanning the spells.
How to Summon a Cleaning Imp... How to Summon a Familiar... I definitely don’t want to summon a demon, even if it does promise to heighten my magic capabilities.
She wasn’t interested in more power, although she was pretty unimpressive with her own. Her father had been a witch and her mother a human, and it had lessened her abilities.
She was fine as she was, and had been growing her magic naturally through practise and manifestation meditation.
Skylar flicked through page after page, eventually abandoning her food to focus on the task. Then, finally, she found what she was looking for:
How to Summon an Incubus.
The trade was sex for sexual energy. She read the fine print that mentioned the spell could be fatal should the incubus be strong and selfish enough to drain the participant. Otherwise, the witch would only feel a little tired and depleted of energy the following day.
Skylar bit her lip as she peeked up at her French-door fridge that had polaroids of all the spooky things she’d found in the wilds of the world. There were also some goofy ones of her with her few friends – many of which included Kaylee.
Hopefully all my energy drinks and potions will combat the energy-draining side effects. Because now that her mind had snagged on this idea... she was steadfastly committed to it.
She picked up the book and left the dining room and connected kitchen area to go to her private enchanting and alchemy room. The wooden floorboards creaked underneath her bare feet, and the sound made her heart race with nervousness.
Okay, I’m really going to do this. Her pussy clenched with anticipation and grew wet at the greedy idea of getting off, even if it was with a creature she probably shouldn’t be making a sexual bargain with.
It’s been a whole year. A girl has needs, and my toys just don’t feel real enough. I want to feel... alive.
Plus, what was the point of being a big bad witch if she couldn’t use her magic for nefarious reasons sometimes? It wasn’t like she was hurting anyone.
There was a little extra bounce in her step as she passed through the doorway to her witchy room, and the smell of herbs filled her nostrils. She clicked her fingers, and candles flickered to life with orange flames, giving the room a warm, inviting glow.
Along the black walls were frames of snake skeletons, pinned insects, dried flowers and herbs, and hanging crystal ornaments.
Except for the wall with an intricate window, racks were lined with little glass bottles, vials, and jars filled with crushed herbs, questionable liquids, and all the spices any witch could possibly want.
She had a collection that would be coveted by most, and she’d found them all over the world before she settled down and opened her café.
Will the incubus have horns, or a tail?
Her eyes grew wide, and she grinned when she laid the grimoire on the antique table on the opposite side of the room below the window.
On it sat her childhood stuffed bunny that she’d shoved pins into, a cute cauldron incense holder filled with sand, and a photo frame filled with a moth that had an awesome natural skull pattern on its fuzzy body.
She quickly lit magic-enhancing incense she’d made, as she figured she’d need it, and poked the bottom end into the sand.
Imagine if he has big wings! That would be so cool. She’d probably be obsessed with touching them.
Fuck. Why haven’t I had this idea before?! She’d read so many romance novels on aliens, monsters, and everything that went bump in the night that this was totally right up there with her kinks!
Her giggle was playful as she read the inscription, noting that she had to draw a magic circle on the ground with chalk or coal.
Seven candles were to be inscribed with runic symbols – each one needing to be perfect – and carefully placed around the magic circle.
She also had to offer up a small amount of her blood and do an incantation.
After she’d double-checked that was all she had to do, she was so impatient and ready that she began straight away.
Alright, buddy, you better be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and be the best lay of my life. Enough to tie her over for another year of self-proclaimed celibacy from dick and forget why she was summoning a boyfriend for the night in the first place.
One naughty, horny night coming right the fuck up!
Should she have thought more about the consequences, or done more research? Probably, but her pussy was in the mood, grabbing her by the reins, and she didn’t care about anything but easing it.