Sirrah stirred the boiling contents in the large stock pot. She laughed a bit then said, “I feel like a MacBeth witch stirring this.”

Sirrah’s cousin, Moyra laughed while hugging her. “Well we are witches, and that is a potion, so…”

“You’re a witch doing MacBeth,” answered a third woman, Sirrah’s younger sister, Ariana. “Personally, I never quite understood how the hell stirring those nasty things together make a spell work.”

The girls shared a look and started laughing. They and their fourth, the currently not home, Joica, had grown up learning magick at their gram’s knee. Through the years, they had learned exactly how to wield magick and more importantly, the reason behind ritual and creating spell components. Yet for all that, Sirrah understood exactly how Ariana felt. Sometimes it felt a bit old-fashioned to make the occasional noxious potion to use in a spell, but until they found a better way, the old way was the only way.

Sirrah sighed again as she thought about her last date with Darien. She did like the guy, but there was something off between them. They were attraced to each other, but it was like she was lacking in some way because his response to her sexual overtures were always…lacking. Coming out of her thoughts, she saw the front door open and Joica enter. “Hi Joi! How goes it?”

“Um, Sirrah, you need to see something,” Joica said, her face showing signs of anger. Sirrah turned down the heat under the pot and stepped to her sister.

“What’s up?”

“You know that Ari, Moyra and I love you and we’ve kept our concerns about Darien to ourselves. Well, we did until Moyra had a vision three days ago.” Joi looked at Sirrah as she glanced towards Moyra.

“You had a vision and didn’t tell me? What was in it?” Sirrah stepped towards Moyra. “What happened?”

“I saw something that upset me because it had the mark of the goddess on it, branding it as happening, not as something to come. I told the others because I wanted proof before I spoke to you.” Moyra gestured to the small camera in Joi’s hands. “We have proof now to show you.”

Sirrah’s body tensed as Joi started the camcorder. As she saw Darien with another, thinner, dark skinned woman, she realized what more she lacked. Her throat tightened in anger and in humiliation. When it was done, she looked at her family, the only people who knew how hard it was for her to open up to anyone.

“You were right to wait and show me evidence. He’s due here in an hour. Explain to him I don’t want to see him and show him the video. It’s over.” Sirrah handed the wooden spoon to Ari. “Watch the potion. It’ll be done in twenty minutes. I need to go out for a while.”

Sirrah grabbed her keys, wallet, and helmet. It was time to ride. To get rid of the pain of being rejected once again. She knew her family would be waiting for her. They’d want to make her feel loved and wanted, but they couldn’t give her what she needed– to be loved and desired sexually by someone with a cock. She climbed on her motorcycle and raced down the street.

She needed time….she needed a break. Gods above and below, she wanted to be loved but time and again it never worked out. Perhaps Shakespeare was right– the world was a stage and the people are just actors in a story. Maybe I’m just comic relief for the males in the world.

Janelle stood inside the sacred hut. In this hut, she would call upon the forces of the Elements, demanding to be sent her lover, her protector, the holder of magick that would help her to create life upon new worlds. But she wanted more than that, she wanted a man to accept all of her, not just her role within the prophecy.

Opening the palm of her left hand she spoke ancient words as fire appeared as a ball above it. “I call upon Fire, that which has warmth to heal and pain to kill. Guide and direct this night my call for He Who Shall Inherit.” Carefully, she set the ball of flame upon the brazier, allowing the glow to light up the now darkening room.

Going to the east side of the hut, she opened her other palm speaking new words until a ball of water appeared. Placing it in a gold bowl, she whispered, “I call upon Water, which heals and takes away that which can harm. Thought it can also kill, it is the cleanser of what lies on top. Guide and direct my call.”

Over and again, she repeated the request of Air, which formed a small, contained tornado, and that of Earth, which formed a blossom that bloomed without roots or anything else. Once the room had been raised with the elemental protections, Janelle stripped off her leather pants, boots, and removed the silken shirt that covered her torso. Exposed to all the elements in her naked form, Janelle felt the pulsating power of life and balance around her. Tonight was the night.

“Come he who walks with purpose. Come he who wants to be one with the universe. Come he who will serve my needs above his own and let him serve me in all ways so that Creation will once again fill the universe. Saxaii, hear my demands, Saxaii, send me the best of your powerful warriors- male, strong, proud and willing to do what is needed to ensure our peoples.” Janelle threw her arms over her head, allowing the power to flow through her and into the ground, sending her magick far and wide.

After a few moments, she heard a noise in the distance, but didn’t yet move. Using her abilities, she enhanced her hearing to discern mortal breathing and the smell of magick. He was coming—and if he was truly the one, her wait would finally be over.

The door to the hut slammed open and before her stood a tall male, short wavy black hair, the golden amber eyes of the Saxaii, and the tattoos marking him as heir to the Tribal Council of his people. Yet he was clothed only in a pair of loose pants and boots, which framed his wide shoulders and muscled stomach. Before he could step forward, she put her hand before her in warning.

“You step on sacred ground, Saxaii. State your name and purpose.”

He removed his clothing, revealing his shaven skin, his tattoos of power, and an erection that would make any woman tremble in fear. “I am Khalil, and I’ve come to fuck you and claim you as mine.”

“We shall see, Khalil. We shall see. I am Janelle. Enter and be welcome among the ancient of powers.”

She shuddered as he kissed the small white tiger symbol at the base of her spine. “I love this tattoo. There is something so primal about you being marked…” he whispered.

Janelle stroked his inner thigh where his tattoos marking his power as Saxaii– a mage of great power– resided. “And this reminds me just how powerful you are, Khalil. You are high born among your people, just as I serve mine.”

“Yet this is more than just a tattoo, is it not, ainchura? This is a marking of the pasarei. You are warrior and shifter, clan of Tiger.” His lips brushed her hips while his fingers traced patterns surrounding the tattoo on her back. “You have great power, power you will give me to help me on my quest.”

Janelle lifted one snowy brow as she allowed her hand to brush his thick erection. “Only if you agree to be my bonded charge. There is a high price for those of the pasarei to be with a Saxaii. Are you willing to bond not just with me, but with my other half?”

“I am yours to command, Lady Janelle,” Khalil whispered before his mouth brushed one erect bare nipple.

His mouth felt hot on her cool skin, but Janelle knew that he was also controlling the power surrounding them on this sacred place. Only here could Saxaii and pasarei meet and enjoy the sharing of flesh and soul. Only here could the magicks be blended creating something more than what was to be expected in this universe. Her hand gently squeezed his erection, enjoying the power that flooded her being. Janelle knew that for all Khalil responded to her call for magick, there was more to her than he could ever know.

Gasping in pleasure, she pulled his short hair until he released her now damp and tight nipple. “You will serve me, Khalil. Raise your power to the elements and offer your oath, offer your body and soul to me.”

She watched as his eyes darkened from pale amber to the dark gold that denoted a raising of internal magickal power. “As you wish, Lady Janelle. And what else shall I do for you?”

Chuckling, she urged him to stand, allowing herself to take in his fully naked form. “You shall offer yourself to be my hetair, my sex slave and be the man I may one day name as heir. But first, once the power is raised, you shall bow and proclaim your obedience before I take your cock deep within me.” Gracefully, Janelle moved until she was on her knees before Khalil. “Do so or forfeit your life, Khalil.”

“I have bound your creature to my magick, you cannot harm me,” Khalil countered with a smirk.

One brow raised as she laughed. “Oh, darling Saxaii, you have no clue who I am. This will indeed be a good time in the power of our gods.” Carefully, she moved her hands and uttered the ancient words that even this Saxaii could decipher. As his eyes went wide, Janelle’s teeth showed. “I am She Who Walks the World. And you are mine to do as I wish. Now, beg Khalil. Beg that I take you, that I accept you so you may know that which is eternity in my soul.”

Then without warning, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his semi-erect cock.

Janelle’s tongue stroked the head of his cock while her hands slid between his parted thighs. Magick was magick, but even among her people and his, there was always the prophecy of She Who Walks the World, the collector and the creator of life. For Janelle, since childhood she had dreamed of this moment– to bond with the one Saxaii who could handle her power and perhaps, just perhaps handle her other self– Lenaj– the white tiger.

Burning filled her back as Khalil’s cock expanded fully in her mouth as she slid him further within. Crackling power surrounded them as Khalil’s shielding shattered around them. Janelle reveled in the pleasure filling her body as the magick bonded them together. Slowly, she removed his hot, thick cock from her and growled, “My other comes and will watch over us as we feast upon each other. Come serve me.”

Khalil bowed his head and dropped to his knees on the padded floor. “As you command, Lady Janelle, goddess of our world and the prophecy fulfiller. Let me taste your sweetness, let me make pleasure the magick of your touch.”

Janelle’s smile faded into a soft gasp as Lenaj emerged from her back, growing to full size. ::This is the one? He looks sufficient to the task, but will he bow to us::, the white tiger asked, dark green eyes meeting Janelle’s.

::He must if we are to fulfil the prophecy and give his people freedom. Khalil has power and I believe the ability to be one of us::

::Then let him serve you, my Lady:: Lenaj stepped behind Khalil, pushing him forward towards a kneeling Janelle.

“My other, Lenaj, would have you serve me, Khalil.” Janelle laid back upon the pillows. “Come and taste of the juices of creation. More importantly, I demand that you pleasure me until I or Lenaj command you to quit. Should you fail, so fail your people.”

“My pleasure, my duty,” Khalil said, sliding his shoulders between Janelle’s parted legs. “A small kiss for reverence.” His mouth kissed the top of her naked mons. “A lick to show my subservience to your needs.” His fingers parted her damp slit, exposing her clitoris to his rough tongue. “And to taste the food of the gods, I thank you and give you my power,” Khalil moaned before placing his mouth over her wet opening.

Nick Giovanni sped his motorcycle down the street. Granted that it wasn’t the normal means of traveling he enjoyed as a superhero, but one must maintain appearances for the rest of humanity. Lakeland wasn’t one of his usual stops, but this time he was here for a reason.

A dog darted out into Lakeland Hills Boulevard in front of him. Nick swerved, missing the dog, but causing his motorcycle to slide sideways along the road. The mutt scampered away as Nick’s body slammed into the pavement. He tried to brace himself after the impact, but there wasn’t enough time.

*           *           *          

Angelique Dawson, Jocelyn Rogers, and Ayumi McCabe emerged from the diner. They laughed at Ayumi’s joke as they waited to cross the busy street. They heard the crash before they saw it, the black motorcycle skidding across the asphalt road. Angel dashed into traffic, heedless of what could happen to her.

She bent before the man whose helmet laid split in half beneath his head. Quickly, she examined him for any injuries. His leg was somewhat shredded as it bled from open wounds caused by being dragged. As she laid her hands on his wound, he stirred beneath her touch.

His eyes tried to focus on the shape before him. The sunlight created a halo effect around the blonde hair of the person whispering comfort to him. He blinked again as warmth emanated from her. “Are you the Angel of Death?” he asked hesitantly.

Angel smiled. “I’ve been called the Grim Reaper because of what I did to Fred and Ethel, but never have I’ve been called the Angel of Death.”

His audible gasp caused her to place her hands firmly on his wound to stop the bleeding once again. He whispered, “Why do I think I should be afraid?” Then his eyes fluttered closed as unconsciousness surrounded him.

“Because most people are?” Angelique whispered as she tended his injuries the best she could. Seeing the damage to his leg, she placed her hands on it and began setting it as well as she could, using her metahuman abilities. “Where’s the ambulance already?”

“It’s coming. How is he?”

“I need you to check his pulse. He seems shocky. I’m trying to keep him from bleeding out too much.”

“Careful with your ability.”

“Well, the Lord of abs ain’t going anywhere quick, now is he?”

“Lord of abs?”

“Take a look at the six pack he’s got, you tell me?” Angelique said as she bit her bottom lip while trying to use her talent for degeneration for regeneration. Her mentor had tried to teach her, but it wasn’t always easy or successful, thus the reason her air ferns, Fred and Ethel were deader than a doorknob.