Striga Ch. 03

The annoyingly, sharp beeping of an alarm clock filled apartment. Swatting, while still blinded with sleep, Lizabeth cursed at the wretched device. Groaning to herself, she knew the warm bed was all too enticing, but if she were to get anything accomplished being lazy would not make it easy.

Sitting up was a gradual process. With sleepy eyes, Lizabeth reached for the phone and proceeded to lie her ass off while calling in for the first time ever in her five-year career. Deborah, the other paralegal at the office, sounded as if maybe she didn't believe Lizabeth's story about being sick. Lizabeth wouldn't budge. There was no coming in for a half day. In the end Deborah was forced to buy into it.

"Who cares? Let them check my attendance records. This is the first fucking time I've ever called in." Lizabeth griped to herself after hanging up the phone. "With my luck... just for this I'll get sick for real tomorrow." She chuckled lightly to herself.

Quickly her thoughts returned to the night before on the sofa. One corner of her mouth turned upward in a lopsided smile. If only he had been there.

"Antony... " she whispered to herself and glanced at the mirror that still hung there on her wall as a constant reminder. A reminder of what she was so close to having, yet it was so far from her reach. Literally worlds away. When she slept, did he watch and yearn to be by her side?

Slowly, she slid off of the bed and walked toward the antique mirror. The smile turned to a bittersweet expression as she lifted a finger to trace one of the little cherub's wings. Looking into the glass itself at her own reflection, Lizabeth wondered if he was watching this very moment. Lowering her face to the mirror's surface, Lizabeth pressed a kiss against the glass. Inching closer, her breasts touched the glass. The first brush of the cold surface sent a shock through her entire body. The heat from her breath fogged up a small area, leaving the perfect print of her full lips.

"A promise." She said softly prior to backing away. They would meet again, Lizabeth was too determined not to let things end this way without a fight.

Lizabeth turned on her heel quickly and strolled into the living room where she had left the journal. It still sat on the table, where it had been left.

"Damn!" she slapped her knee "I didn't save my place. How stupid can a person get?"

She slid a hand through her unkempt hair and began thumbing through the musty old book with a vengeance. She passed the sketches and doodles that marked the pages she had read the night before. Flipping through a handful of pages afterwards showed nothing of importance. A lot of rambling about the chores, Rosalia's parents, even a horse, "Cinnamon" or "Cinny" that she seemed to be extremely fond of. Antony, of course was mentioned here and there. Mostly lovesick comments and amorously written poems. Lizabeth had discovered through offhand comments and careful reading that Rosalia had only been maybe seventeen when she kept the journal.

Closer to the end of the book, one page caught her eye. The mirror had been drawn clearly once more, only this time the sketch depicted the mirror as broken. Little broken heart doodles were scattered on the page. Something had to have happened. Lizabeth read on, convinced that maybe something useful would find her in those pages.

**October 10, 1934

I saw Papa and Antony talking out by the barn this morning. I couldn't hear what was said, but Papa seemed upset. I think he saw Antony and I kissing yesterday. I tried to talk to him before dinner tonight but he seemed to be avoiding me. I understand, but I do not want to. I cannot imagine my life now without him, and I do not plan to.

**October 12, 1934

My heart is breaking into a million pieces. Antony found me in the stables and we hid and talked. My father has told him that he has to leave, mostly because of me. He has no where else to go. I cannot help but think this is all my fault, yet I cannot bear to lose him.

**October 12, 1934 (Continued later that day)

I have decided the only way I can keep Antony is through magic. I have fought my self long enough on the decision and know that it's the only thing I have left. He leaves two days from tonight I have decided that an entrapment spell should work the best. In my few years of practice I have not had to deal with power in this magnitude. I am going to have to ask for assistance.

I waited until after dark and crept out of my room. I ventured over the hill with the bent olive tree. Not long after walking, I saw the little dilapidated cottage coming into view. This is Maria Bellatoli's house. She is rumored to be the most powerful Striga for the next three towns.

Once reaching the house, I hesitantly knocked on the front door. Patiently I stood, though I shook like a leaf. There was no answer. I turned with a heavy heart and decided maybe Maria not answering the door was for the best. Maybe it was a sign that what was to be... should be.

I began to walk away from the house, trying to devise a way of getting back into my room without getting caught. I stopped. From behind me I had heard what sounded like a creaky door opening. Frozen with fear, I stood there. Yes, we were both Strigas, true, but this Striga was rumored to be a woman that could make me look like a bumbling novice. There were horrible stories about how she could kill men with one look, ruin crops, eat children and spread illness. You name it, and she supposedly could do it. I was scared to death. I turned slowly to face her, my eyes closed tight against what I might see.

"Yes?" I heard the voice of an elderly woman say. Opening one eye first, then the other, I looked at this "evil woman." I stood with my mouth half open in shock. She reminded me a lot of my own grandmother. I felt silly. What if the stories were just that, stories? This woman would know that I practiced if I asked her for help.

Raising a silver brow, Maria waited for me to say something.

"Child, you do not have to be afraid. Do you know how many of our kind have come to me for assistance?" she placed a hand on top of my head and smiled before looking around. "Now get in here and tell me how I can assist you before someone happens to see you."

Almost Immediately after that I felt comfortable with her. I poured my heart out to the old woman in hopes that she could offer some advice. She sat quietly by the fire, starring into the flames while listening to me. I finished and she continued to sit there in silence for a moment, the orange glow bathing her in an eerie light. Her dark eyes were like two pieces of coal as they turned to me thoughtfully.

"If you seek to keep him, you must use an entrapment spell, just as you suspected. I have some really good ones but I recommend something long term. That will give him time to get over being angry at you for what you are about to do." Her thin lips spread across her face in an almost unnerving smile.

I had never considered that. If he found out that I had bound him to me in some magical manner, of course he would be upset with me. I had never seen Antony angry before.

With one clawlike finger she pointed to a spell that involved mirrors and tapped it.

"Now this... this will give you what you want." She chuckled hoarsely. "You can come and go as you please, when you please, and do what you like. He will be yours to keep. Getting a strand or two of his hair should be easy, right?" She handed the old yellowed paper to me and wished me luck.

Nodding, I took the paper and clutched it to my chest. Getting his hair would be no problem. I glanced at the spell for a moment. It did not seem too complicated.

I walked back home quickly, hiding what I thought would be the key to my salvation under my shirt. I could not see what all the fuss about Maria was. She seemed to be a nice old woman and I liked her a lot from what I had seen. Though she did give me certain impressions that unnerved me. I was sure it was unintentional. She probably just did not get very many guests.

Everything seemed to be in my favor as I crept back into the house. I passed by my mother and father's room and paused briefly. I could hear their shallowed breathing. I was safe.

I slipped into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. Carefully I pulled the old pages out from under my shirt and began glancing over them. They seemed easy enough. I looked around the room and saw the perfect mirror in plain view. My grandmother's old mirror. It was large and beautiful... and ideal.

I began to prepare right away for what was to come. I gathered everything that was needed and placed a spell of protection over me. The room around me had been caught in the reflection and mirrored on the other side, in between worlds. It would serve as a perfect place to keep him, as Maria had said. Now the only task was getting him here.

**October 13, 1934

I met Antony out at the stables once again. He would be leaving in the morning, he said. I tried to wrap my arms around him but he pulled away.

"I cannot risk holding you." He said coldly. His troubled green eyes avoided me altogether.

"Antony... please. I need to at least say good bye to you." I cupped his face in my hands, much to his protest. "If I am never to see you again... "

"You will see me again, Rosalia, just not for a while. Your Papa suspects our love for one another and he does not approve. When the time is right, I will come back for you.".

Once again his eyes failed to meet mine.

It was a lie. I felt it deep down inside of me. I thought he loved me, but this was a way to keep me at bay long enough for him to leave. He did not want trouble with my family. I would not doubt that he would have other women before he would make it back to me, or if he did at all. The thought of him touching another woman sent a wicked, fiery rage through me. It would not happen, that I would see to. I was going to show him what one determined Striga could do when pushed. I would make him bear witness to persistence that even hell itself lacked in entirety. Still holding his face in my hands, I pleaded with him. I begged him not to go, yet I had known all along this was futile. I was just wasting time, building my way up to what my original plan was.

He never suspected anything. Could I really be this evil and cruel? Then again another thought crossed my mind when faced with the situation:

Could he?

He could have fought this if he really loved me, yet he gave up so easily. I could not possibly mean as much to him as I thought.

"One more night." I whispered to him. "Please... let me have one more night with you. Meet me tonight and let me hold you one more time. If you loved me, you would. I need to know you love me before you leave."

A tear threatened to stream down his smooth olive cheek as he turned quickly from me, intent on fleeing but I grabbed his forearm firmly.

Nodding his head he answered "I do love you, Rosalia, more than I have ever loved anyone. I will meet you tonight, and only on this night, until time is on our side." He brushed the back of his hand against my cheek.

**October 13, 1934 (continued later on that night)

Long after night had fallen, and the house was quiet we found each other. He was standing out by the side of the house when I stepped out of the back door. I motioned for him and quickly he came.

"Are you crazy?" he said quietly while looking around nervously. "Your father would kill me if... " his words fell short as he then made a gruff noise that made his frustration known.

I merely shook my head and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him inside the doorway. He looked terrified but followed me through the house, and into my bedroom. Once inside I locked the door behind us.

"No. I know you are not planning to have me in your room. Your parents are sleeping right down the hall, Rosalia. I do not want to die tonight, love." Antony folded his arms in front of him as if to symbolize that he stood firm with his decision.

Immediately I smothered his protesting mouth with kisses. It did not take very long before he began to comply with my actions. I could feel his large hands circling my waist and admiring the contours of my rounded hips as our tongues twined around one another. I broke the kiss long enough to grab the bottom of his shirt and lift it over his head. He tossed it aside like a useless rag. I could see the lust of ten men brewing in his eyes as he looked at me. I met him halfway with a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Rosalia." He confided against my own breath as we stood face to face. Those eyes. They were so sincere in what he spoke. I wanted to believe him.

"I love you too." I answered. For the first time we had admitted our love to each other.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever lain eyes on, and I want you to know that no matter what, Rosalia, you will always be my one and only love." His kiss grazed the side of my face like a butterfly's first decent onto a new petal. At this moment I knew that I would have died for him.

I turned my back to him and pulled him close. I could feel his erection through the material of his pants as it brushed proudly against the curve of my bottom. Craning my head to the side, his warm mouth devoured my neck. I had wanted this for what seemed like forever. Even more so than the very first time I needed to feel him.

His large hands slid up the front of my body, lifting my nightgown with them. They were so rough and calloused in contrast to my soft skin. It made it all the more enticing. He was every bit of what a man is supposed to be, and then some. I looked into the mirror in front of me, seeing my own breasts exposed as the material had been lifted off of my skin. I could see his hand cupping my breast, his fingers attentively pinching my nipple. Watching his large hand slide across my bare stomach I shivered. His perfectly tapered fingers moved lower still, finding their way through the sparse shadowing of dark hair that lie hidden beneath my panties. Through the thin white silk I could see their flesh-tone outline in the mirror as they touched me. I whimpered quietly against tightly pressed lips before I moistened them with my tongue and uttered words so wanton, that I could not believe at first that the low, husky voice had been my own.

His hands gathered the front of my nightgown, seizing the cloth in his hand carelessly. Giving it a firm jerk, I could hear most of the tiny pearl buttons clangoring to the floor by my feet. The next sound that emitted was that of my panties being ripped free from my hips by their thin sides.

I stood before the mirror, my naked body exposed to the cool autumn air that filtered in through a half-opened window. I let the remaining rags that had once been my gown fall off of my arms. Through dark eyes narrowed with pleasure, I watched his hands explore and savor my flesh.

"I want you... I want you inside of me." I leaned my head back and whispered to him.

I heard him moan lightly in response, as if my frankness had both shocked and delighted him.

I watched his reflection as he fumbled with the fastening of his pants and they slid past his knees. The soft patch of hair around his generously aroused sex tickled my bottom from behind. He pressed forward. I felt his erection teasing me and sampling my moisture. I kept my balance by leaning by body back slightly against his when I felt him lift one of my legs just a bit. Looking down I could see his manhood slipping between my thighs while he continued to brush it against me. Grabbing his hand, I led it to my lips and drew his finger into my mouth hungrily. My tongue wrapped around it unchastely while I took it in and out of my mouth seductively. My newly educated mind wondered what it would be like to take him into my mouth in the same manner. That would have to come in time. I could not wait another second.

"I want you. I want you now." I managed to say in between suckling his finger.

Growling sensually, he lifted my leg just a little more and I watched in the mirror as he entered me. I felt him fill every inch of me entirely. The slow, gentle manner he had shown me my first time was no where to be found. I let out a gasp mingled with pleasure and a hint of pain. One arm came to encircle my tiny waist as the other held my leg. I watched his face as he began to bury himself inside of me with a fevered passion that set fire to my soul. The expression on his face was like that of an angel's reflecting the sheer bliss of heaven.

Glancing at our reflection, I could see everything perfectly. I saw his enormous manhood slipping in and out of me, my own moisture glistening on its smooth skin. I could see my opening being stretched considerably to accommodate his rather large girth. My hips began to move in time with his, grinding and encouraging him. I reached back and draped my arm around his neck only to watch him deliver an array of kisses across my flesh.

"Rosalia." I heard him begin moaning my name into my ear from behind me with each thrust. It was softer than a whisper and ten times as sweet. A tingling sensation began to creep up my legs. I was closer than I wanted to be to exploding around him. I desperately tried to hold off just for a little bit longer, but I could hear him breathing hard and chanting my name. I could see his beautiful face, the way he bit his lower lip every time he slid inside of me. There was no holding back.

My fingers twisted around a mass of his long dark hair and in the approaching pleasure I pulled it hard, yet he didn't even seem to notice. I had the few strands of hair I needed. Letting go of his hair, I closed my fist and kept it hidden. I had to be careful not to lose the relics while in the heat of passion.

My breathing had quickened and my cries of anticipated release had grown louder. His hand shot over my mouth, cupping it to stifle what could become our discovery. Closing my eyes tight, I could feel my whole body constrict against his. For a moment I could see colors and flashes of light around me. My femininity tightened unforgivably around him as he pushed himself deeply into me and held still for a second.

"Oh yes... " he said hotly against my skin. Undoubtably he felt me contracting around him and my nectar dripping down the base of his sex as he cupped my mouth.

My own release set him off. He bucked like a wild animal against me, slamming himself into me hard over and over. Antony's face contorted and his cheeks became tinctured with a light blushing of pink.

My own desire still billowed even after the first orgasm. I watched in the reflection as he pulled me toward him with the arm that was around my waist, driving his swollen girth into me one last time. His lips parted and a deep, hesitated breath escaped over them. I felt the first spurt of his hot fluid shoot into me and I cried out unexpectedly against his palm as it sent me into another whirlwind of pleasure. His manhood jerked inside of me with each disbursement of his seed and I felt it running out of me and dripping down my thigh. Grinding once more, he milked every last drop of himself into me before withdrawing.

Kissing the side of my face, he let go of my mouth and held me. I watched us there in the little room, holding each other. I did not want this moment to end. I wanted forever in his arms. Turning toward him, I kissed him passionately, pouring all of my love, frustration, and sadness into one single gesture.

After I pulled away, he looked stunned by the intensity of the kiss and pressed his lips together.

"Rosalia, it is not for forever. I promise. Please do not be sad." He smiled weakly and tried to reassure me in his beautiful Italian tongue. "When I am away, I will try to find work and put away some money. I can come back and ask your papa for your hand in marriage."Smiling, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed my head against his chest. "Think about it, Rosalia. You... and I... married."