Chapter 11: Serve and Protect

Friday, 9 May 1969

There was nothing wrong with her doing this, Judith told herself. I love him. Well, I think I do. Even if I didn’t, finals are over and I’d do it anyway. Probably. She wasn’t completely convinced, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue about it. And she knew The Huntress wasn’t above using sex to raise power. Their climax together on Oester was evidence of that. And frankly she’d enjoyed it. That was refreshing.

She applied her lipstick and looked at herself critically. Frosty pink lips. Blue eye shadow. Black liner and lash extensions. A little highlight on her cheeks. She wondered absently what she’d think of this fashion in thirty years. She wore a patent leather miniskirt and platform shoes. They wouldn’t bring her completely up to his height, but he wouldn’t have to bend over so far to kiss her. And he was going to kiss her. Oh yes.

The amount of traffic in and out of the dorm on the last day of school made it easy for Wayne to come to her room and knock on the door. Judith adjusted her tube top to make sure her flat stomach and navel were showing and that it only covered high enough to hide the essentials. She’d embarrassed herself when she went into Block’s Department Store and asked for a boob tube. Well, that’s what they called them in London. Instead, she’d been directed to televisions. She opened the door and stood back.

“Holy shit! God! You are gorgeous!” Wayne said when he could finally get words out of his mouth. My God! He’s actually salivating.

“Thank you, lover. You look pretty hot yourself.” He was wearing a new pair of khaki shorts and a white tennis shirt with an alligator embroidered over his heart. She glanced at his feet to see that he was wearing sandals. That was a relief. She couldn’t have gone out if he was in socks and shoes. His fashion sense wasn’t always great.

Wayne crossed the room and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers as he hugged her. She let her lips soften and soon welcomed his tongue into her mouth. They parted, panting.

“I don’t know who taught you to kiss, but I want to thank her.”

“Special tutorial in high school,” Wayne smirked. “Best grade I ever got.”

“You have to tell me about that sometime,” she said. They kissed again. Eventually they had to come up for air. “Are we going out? We could just stay here.”

“I did promise you a hot dog basket and a schooner at Lum’s. Glenn and Gail are waiting for us in the car, so maybe we should join them. Otherwise I’d have to go out and explain to them that I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Are you having trouble with that?” she asked coyly. He let his hands slide down from her bare shoulders across her breasts.

“Oh yeah.”

“The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back.”

Wayne’s right hand had been trapped between Judith’s bare thighs all the way back to the dorm from the restaurant. Really high up between her thighs. It had been trapped there when he turned to kiss her, gliding up her leg from her knee until she clamped her legs closed just as he touched her damp panties. There it stayed as they continued to kiss until Glenn had turned off the car and opened the door.

“There’s no desk clerk on duty tonight,” Glenn said. “Therefore there is no reason to stay in the car to make out.”

“My room, lover,” Judith whispered.

Wayne followed her straight to the women’s wing. He noticed that Gail had opted to head to the men’s wing with Glenn. Well, he’d follow Judith anywhere right now. Anywhere she wanted to go, he was hers.

She barely got her key out of the lock so the door could swing closed behind them when they were back in a clutch. This time she didn’t stop his hands, no matter where they roamed. He found out quickly how easily a tube top could be adjusted. They were still standing inside the doorway when he had bare breasts cupped in both hands and Judith was moaning into his mouth. She pulled his tennis shirt off over his head and pressed her bosom to his chest.

“Oh, Judith. You feel so fucking good.”

“Baby, I am going to feel so good fucking.”

“I don’t want to just fuck you. I mean, hell yes, I want to fuck you. But I want to make love to you. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go,” he whispered.

Hold me, hold me
Never let me go until you’ve told me, told me
What I want to know and then just hold me, hold me
Make me tell you I’m in love with you.

Judith sang to him as they began dancing together in her room. She sang the whole song as they swayed around the room, her beautiful contralto voice softly ruffling the few hairs he had on his chest. When she sang, “Kiss me. Kiss me,” he did. Somewhere in the process he found the zipper to her skirt and she stepped out of it when it fell to the floor. “Now you,” she whispered. He thought a moment.

I don’t remember what day it was
I didn’t notice what time it was
All I know is that I fell in love with you
And if all my dreams come true
I’ll be spending time with you.

He sang. His voice was pitched lower than the singer from Spiral Starecase, but it still fit the song. “I love you more today than yesterday...” That was as far as he got. His shorts fell to the floor and he stepped out of them, still holding Judith. She looked at him and picked up the next song.

Children behave
That’s what they say when we’re together
And watch how you play
They don’t understand.

It was campy, but they were spinning in a circle in each other’s arms and Judith’s platform shoes came off just as she sang, “I think we’re alone now...” Wayne kicked his sandals off and they had only the layer of his jockeys and her black hip-hugger panties between them. They’d begun to sweat, but there was something about letting the music take them wherever they wanted that kept them spinning in each other’s arms. Judith pulled the tube top the rest of the way off so they were skin-to-skin. Her breasts slid against his sweaty chest.

When you hold me
In your arms so tight,
You let me know,
Everything’s alright...

Wayne sang. They touched Judith’s bed and sank down on it. Sometimes singing, sometimes kissing, whispering lyrics as they lay down together. When Wayne sang “I’m hooked on a feeling...” he hooked his thumbs into Judith’s waistband and dragged her panties down off her feet. He knelt before her.

“Make love to me, baby. Everything is ready.”

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said as he lowered his mouth to her pussy. He didn’t know exactly what to expect, though he had learned the rudiments of where her clit was. The taste was sweet and he knew he’d crave this all his life. When he found her bud, he teased it, licked it, pressed it, sucked it until she was writhing on the bed.

“Oh God! Wayne, I wanted to wait for you, but I can’t. You’re doing such wonderful things to me. Oh baby!” Judith climaxed and pulled Wayne up by his ears before he could bring her off again. “In me. In me, baby. Oh Wayne, make love to me.”

Wayne found the slippery channel and sank into her depths. So warm, so smooth, so right.

“Goddess, be with me. Powers of the East, come to me. Powers of the South, come to me. Powers of the West, come to me. Powers of the North, come to me. Blessed be. The circle is complete,” Judith chanted softly as Wayne plowed into her again and again. It didn’t disturb him that she was chanting these things. Somehow, they seemed right—natural.

“So mote it be,” he answered her chant.

As they neared the peak their attention was drawn away momentarily.

“Look, Judith. Look at what we’ve done. It’s beautiful!” Lights bounced around the room, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. Multiple colors. “We’re doing this, darling. You and me. It’s so beautiful.”

“Yes!” Judith called as she exploded into the lights. Wayne was with her this time and the glow stabilized around them as they settled.

“You see it. You know,” he said softly.

“Yes. I am The Swordmaster.”

“I am The Unbound.” Judith shivered beneath him and he embraced her more fully as she came again. Judith put her hand against his chest and touched the pentacles—her pentacles, but now completely his—with her index finger.

“How did you know what to do? Has she done it with you?”

“I don’t know who ‘she’ is. I think I dreamed it. I get confused sometimes and then there’s a moment when the dream comes true and I see it all clearly.”

“It’s okay. I’m not going to share you with anyone as a lover, but ritual and the raising of power is different.”

“Is that what this is? Just raising power? I don’t even know what that means. Or maybe I do, but I can’t think of it.”

“This was so much more than raising power, love. So much more than a dream. But the power is there, too. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Yes, but all I want to feel is you.”

“I want you to be safe and protected. This is just for us. Then we can just make love all night long.”

Judith closed her eyes and touched the pentacles again. Wayne felt a warmth wash over him. His eyes drifted closed as he was enclosed in the celestial feeling. When he opened them, Judith spoke again. “Whenever I touch your pentacles, you will remember all we have done to prepare you. But when you leave my presence, that part will be like a dream. It will become clear whenever you have need of it. You are more than my apprentice. You are my lover.” She touched the medallion and Wayne felt her flow into him. He hardened in her again and they began a dance that would last all night.

Wednesday, 21 May 1969

Rebecca Allen sat in her office watching the academic building across the parking lot from her window. It was late. Rehearsal had been cancelled because of yet another break-in. She watched the police leave at last and the lights in the building go out. On the steps of the building, she could see two figures pause to talk as a security guard locked the doors behind them. It was an animated discussion. Though she could not see clearly in the lamplight, she knew the participants would be Wayne Hamel and Jim Richards.

She reached into the credenza behind her and pulled out the hat she had kept there since finding it last fall. It didn’t make sense. She could at least understand The Swordmaster’s motive for breaking into the library in October. But why the rash of theatre break-ins?

The subject had been discussed at faculty meetings twice. The prevailing opinion was that theatre students were long-haired hippy freaks. Hippies used drugs, so the break-ins must be drug related since no theatre equipment was stolen. It was no secret that Rebecca’s participation in the theatre’s England tour was about the only thing that kept cancellation of the trip from coming to a vote.

The problem she faced now was the distinct possibility that The Swordmaster might be sabotaging the tour to keep Rebecca from completing her task in England. It seemed so ridiculous; so petty. But the thought kept nagging at Rebecca.

From her talks with Wayne over the past couple of weeks, she knew that he was still very much attached to Judith. In fact, enthralled might be a good word. But Judith seemed to pay little if any attention to Wayne whenever Rebecca was around. And she was developing enough concern for the boy that she was irritated to find him being toyed with by Judith. It just didn’t make sense.

Rebecca moved decisively from the chair in her office, stuffed the hat in her satchel, picked up her walking stick and left. She hated to do this, but she had to be certain. Her power was adequate to do a reading on the building, of that she was certain. She would use the hat as a talisman to determine if Judith was the culprit. If she was, it was not a matter for the police.

Her master key led her swiftly through the academic building and into the library proper. She was thankful for influential friends as high as the president emeritus of the college who saw to it that her key was always current and that no one asked why she needed it. She opened the door of the rare books room and keyed in the numerical sequence that aborted the alarm. The light blinked green.

She did not like this room—never had. It had been refurbished four years previously and an elaborate alarm system had been installed. The shelves and boxes that once stood here were changed to air-tight vaults for the preservation of rare texts and manuscripts. But this was the room in which The Blade first attacked her husband and the encounter still reverberated in Rebecca’s ears as she opened the high door to the roof.

Over the years, this had become her private sanctuary. No one came up here. She had discovered, soon after her initiation into Coven Carles, that there was an intersection of ley lines beneath the building. The junction, while not as powerful as those found in many of the holy shrines, was still strong enough to give a sense of stability and balance to her rituals. She had a better view of the sky and stars than she could get amid the city lights below. Here she celebrated each of the sabbats when she was unable to join her brothers and sisters in England. Just three weeks ago, she’d lain on the roof, delighted to see her lights joining others celebrating Beltane and had wondered if one of the lights had been the joining of Wayne and Judith. She was surprised to find herself aroused by the thought.

In the center of her circle she placed the hat. She invoked the guardians of the watchtowers as she had been taught years before, naming each cardinal quarter and inviting it to attend her ritual. She felt a charge of electricity as she visualized the white light that would surround her workings as it flared into existence. This was how power was meant to feel—pure, fresh, cleansing. Perhaps she had been wrong to deny its use for so long. Half-remembered words attributed to Aleister Crowley crept into her consciousness. “The difference between white magic and black magic is that white magic is poetry and black magic works.” Was that what she was so afraid of?

She stood on the north side of the hat and stretched her walking stick out over it. In ritual use, it was her wand, Pele, that Doc Heinrich had helped her cut fifteen years ago—the first step toward her eventual initiation. She began humming as she so often did when she worked, letting breaths become notes and notes become words as she put together a chant of divination to determine whether it was Judith who kept breaking into the theatre beneath her. Rebecca was convinced that it was someone with power that kept them from being discovered.

She had barely begun her chant when she sensed a presence nearby. With the half-aware reflex of a person who had lived much of her life ready for attack, Rebecca spun away from the center of the circle as a knife materialized in the air. It hit and stuck straight up through the crown of the hat. Instinctively, Rebecca willed her wards to greater strength and crouched, her own knife coming readily to hand. She listened, straining her ears for the least sound breaking the silence.