... (itendsinfire) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2021-05-04 11:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | #june 2018, reagan, reagan x westin, westin |
Who: Westin and Reagan
When: Very, very early, Wednesday morning, June 13th
Where: The Kelly/D’Onofrio Home in Black Cove
Status: Complete
As soon as her eyes opened, Reagan knew exactly what was waiting for her downstairs. Or rather, who. It was still dark outside and she didn’t need to check her phone for the time. She knew it was nowhere near dawn yet. Caius was sleeping peacefully beside her and somehow Reagan knew he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon. Exhaling softly, Reagan slipped out of bed and padded across the bedroom as carefully as she could, grabbing her robe from the corner chair before she quietly opened the door to slip out into the hall.
He was waiting in the living room, just like the last time and there seemed to be a strange haze around the space, like this could all be a dream. Maybe it was.
“It’s been a while,” Westin said, grinning as Reagan walked into the room, slipping her arms into her robe. “I bet you forgot all about me.”
“Not entirely,” Reagan said, though yes, she had sort of pushed the man-not-man to the back of her mind. It had been months… longer, even. He had given her the idea of a coven to restore her magic and yes, he had asked for a favor in return for his help, if one could call it that. But then he had disappeared and Reagan had finally been enjoying her marriage to Caius without any dark clouds looming over their heads. It was easier to believe he had been a figment of her imagination.
Reagan couldn’t exactly tamper down on the apprehension she was feeling now that he was back. Dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt that appeared dark blue in the moonlight… he looked like someone Reagan might see in the Back Porch if she ever stepped foot in that dingy place. But he also exuded something dark and powerful that Reagan was drawn to. Was that any surprise, given who and what her husband was?
Westin was still smiling and something about it made her skin crawl. But she watched him walk over to her sofa and take a seat, one arm resting on the back of it casually like he was more than just a guest in her home. Then he gestured to the chair. “Go ahead and take a seat.” It was like he owned the damn house, but Reagan did what he instructed, sitting with her back tense and her hands clutched together in her lap.
“I know you think I’ve come here to collect from you,” Westin began, his tone still somewhat jovial. “But you’re wrong. In fact, I’ve come here tonight to offer you something.”
“I don’t like being in debt to anyone,” Reagan said, ignoring the way her heart was thumping in her ears. “And considering that I already owe you…” She trailed off and paused briefly before continuing. “What is it you think I would want?”
Westin’s lips seemed to curl into a brief sneer before he leaned toward her. “Power. That’s what you want, right?”
Unable to help herself, Reagan smirked, arching a dark brow. “Are you sure you’re here to see me and not my husband?”
“He’s got more than enough power, don’t you think?” Westin’s smile was back, as was the tension in Reagan’s back. “Demon blooded. Magic comes naturally to him, whereas you have to work to try and achieve even a modicum of what he’s been able to do.”
“It’s not a competition.”
His brow cocked sharply. “No, no it’s not. But your own talent has taken a hit, and I think we both know it.”
Reagan stared across the room at the man on her couch, her fingers moving instinctively to her leg to pinch it, just in case this was a dream and she could wake herself up. But she remained where she was, trying not to notice how dark his eyes suddenly seemed. The irises were gone and it reminded her eerily of Caius when he called his Obscurities forth. But she didn’t respond, unwilling to rise to whatever bait he was trying to dangle in front of her.
Westin stood and walked over to Reagan before crouching down until they were eye level. Her jaw clenched and she gripped her hands together, refusing to move even when every instinct she had told her to move away, or scream for Caius. But she already knew that would be pointless. Caius wouldn’t hear her. Westin wouldn’t let him hear a damn thing.
“You lost your magic and yes, it was returned to you. A coven can be a very powerful thing. Believe me, I know.” That smile again. His teeth were so white that it was unnerving. She was just waiting for something to crawl out of his mouth. Roaches or spiders. Something to show that his handsome, rugged face was just a mask for something grotesque and horrible.
“But,” Westin continued. “The potency of your magic… it’s not as strong as it was before, is it? You can feel it, even if your husband can’t. Occasionally at night, you feel a chill when you’ve never been afraid of the cold before… at least when you’ve had your fire.” He exhaled and rested his hand on her robe-covered knee. “Imagine what your husband will think if your first and only child is born weak, unable to tap into the kind of magic his father gave to him. You know how your sister-in-law is treated at home. Like a leper, unfit and undeserving of her father’s love.”
Reagan choked out a laugh. “Caius’s father doesn’t love anything.”
“Mmm, you’re probably right. And Caius is nothing like his father, is he?”
That gave Reagan pause and for the first time since she found Westin in her home, she felt that flash of temper. “You don’t know--”
“I know,” Westin interrupted sharply. “I know everything, Reagan. And I know you’re too strong a woman to want to play the role of a submissive wife while your husband continues to succeed. He doesn’t want that either, does he? He wants his equal. And you can have that. If you’re ambitious enough, you can have so much more. You’ve never struck me as a witch who was content to live in her husband’s shadow. And you certainly don’t want your child becoming a disappointment.”
Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Her palms were slick as she rubbed them together. His hand on her knee was both painful and wildly erotic in a way that nearly repulsed her. Maybe she had known her magic didn’t feel as strong as it had before. But she had chalked it up to not having it for so long. It was an adjustment and she was just… still adjusting. But what if he was right? Reagan did know how Anthony saw Sera. And hadn’t she always worried that Caius would turn into his father? He was certainly still under Anthony’s influence, even if he pulled away over the past few years.
“You’re trying to manipulate me,” Reagan said finally, pushing Westin’s hand from her knee. “It won’t work.” But he gripped her hand tight, causing her bones to crush together. Reagan cried out, instinctively tapping into the fire within her to burn him. She smelled burned flesh, but it didn’t seem to faze him. Instead, Reagan was overcome with something else. Something new. The heat licked along her skin, leaving magic in its wake. For a moment it was too much and she could feel her bones breaking under the weight of it. Blood filled her mouth and Reagan began to choke… until… until it all faded, settling into her body, leaving her feeling exhilarated and invincible.
It took her a moment to realize that her cheeks were wet and when her vision cleared, Westin was smiling at her, his hand coming up to wipe the tears from her face. Had she been crying? She couldn’t taste the blood in her mouth anymore, but Westin swiped his thumb along her lower lip and she could see the crimson streak on his skin before he sucked it between his lips.
All at once, it was all gone. The magic. The power. She resisted begging him for it, but from the look on his face, she didn’t need to.
“You’re doing this for him, and for your future son,” Westin assured her. “But you’re also doing it for yourself. You deserve this, Reagan. Just say yes.”
Panting softly, Reagan felt that tug, that denial in the back of her mind. No. That was all she had to say. Then he would go and she could go back to bed, curl up beside her husband and dismiss all of this as a bad dream.
Is that what Caius would do? Or had he already courted the darker side of magic? Hell, he was the dark side of magic. He was stronger than she was and they both knew it. But Reagan could even the playing field now. And imagine what their son would become if she did.
“Yes,” Reagan murmured.
Whatever happened next was something of a blur and felt something like a drug induced dream. There was the smell of the ocean air and a chilly breeze whipping her hair around her face. The screams. Tasting blood. Incredible power that sunk into her bones, just as it had so briefly in her own living room. But now it was here to stay.
When Reagan returned home she stumbled past the snakes that had begun to gather in her yard, barely noticing them writhing around her bare feet. When she reached the couch, she passed out, feeling brand new… and wanting more.