Page 44 of Burn for the Devil
His hands lightly massaged my waist again, before squeezing me. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breaths ragged, and my eyes shut tight. Ramone’s hair tumbled from between my fingers, the strands impossibly glossy and smooth, the light reflecting off them. I reached for him again, this time with both hands, and pushed his head back down. “Don’t stop,” I said.
He growled his approval. “Never.”
25
Samantha
The moment I got out of my own head was the moment Ramone devastated me. His expert touch annihilated my resistance and I collapsed, shattering and convulsing around his mouth and his hand. His grasp was the only thread keeping me tethered—to him. Afterward, he carefully pulled me from the chair and placed me on his lap as he sat on the stairs, deep in thought. I sank into him, letting him hold me and kiss me, his beautiful hands rubbing and caressing me in comfort while my heart rate returned to normal.
“Told you I’d make you scream,” he said.
I felt myself blush as I let out a small laugh. He’d visited me at night before, in the bedroom of my home and touched me, but while that hadn’t felt real, this did. He’d seemed a little restrained here, not letting himself go as he had with me times prior. I wanted to ask him about it, but the timing felt off, and I was still confused.
Ramone guided me off his lap and stood up, brushing loose debris from his pants. The sunlight streaming through a hole in the wall remained unchanged, highlighting the same dustparticles in a glowing beam. The atmosphere had an eternal quality, as if we were freeze-framed and suspended in time.
“What time is it?” I broke the silence, suddenly cognizant that I may have missed untold appointments and a shift at work. People could’ve been looking for me.
He motioned with his hand and the door set into the wall slowly opened with a groan. It took longer, this time, than when he’d opened the last door without physical touch. “There’s no time here, not truly, not the way it's understood where you’re from.”
“Wait. What do you mean?” I was about to ask how he was able to open doors that way but his statement about time took precedence.
Ramone kicked a piece of wood out of the way with his boot, beckoning me with his fingers. “Time works differently here. Faster, slower. It varies. There was more consistency at one time, with the passage being slower and the setting and rising of the sun at what you would consider normal hours. Something happened and that changed.”
“You don’t know what happened?” I wanted to believe him but was wrestling with my altered reality.
“I’m not from here. I’ve spent significant time here, but it's not my home. I wasn’t present during the alteration.”
We entered a dimly lit hallway, candles springing to life when we stepped inside. The air was damp, and an earthy scent permeated our surroundings. The sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance punctuated the silence. I paused, catching his forearm. “Where are you from?”
“Somewhere beneath you.” Images flashed through my mind, bringing a flush to my skin. His breathy response instigating images of myself seated on top of him, naked and pleasuring myself. Blinking, I pushed the thoughts away; it wasn’t what he meant.
He couldn’t have meant socially; he seemed as if he had more money than God. “You’re not beneath me. Are you from Boston?”
Ramone glanced at me before his gaze snagged on something behind me. My eyes followed his to a table set in an alcove with various antique items spread across the surface, catching my attention. The items would’ve fit in perfectly in my shop, with the silver candlestick holders, small jars, and other curiosities. The focal point of the table was a large crystal ball perched on a brass or gold base with four intricately curved legs.
It was exquisite. Unlike similar items in The Crow’s Nest, this was opaque glass, with a moving, twirling iridescence visible inside the frosty ball, swirling around inside the interior. The mass twisted and curled, becoming visible when it touched the crystal before disappearing again somewhere in the depths.
Ramone muttered off to my side, reaching for something, and I paid no mind. I was transfixed, mesmerized by the glittering display before me, never having seen anything like it. I’d heard of those who’d claimed to receive visions by gazing into a quartz sphere, but I’d never seen or heard of activity truly inside one before. I stretched out a finger, gently placing it on the smooth surface.
The iridescence responded, and I held my breath, fearful of disturbing the connection. Pictures filled my mind, of a young, thin girl. Immediately, I remembered her as the woman who’d visited me once, while I was imprisoned in the cottage.Kiara. I knew she was gone, that information transferred to me by whatever force existed inside the glass dome. More images poured into me, showing a desolate landscape tinged in orange and red, blood flowing through sand, bones and bodies under a crimson sun. Dark emotions replaced the sense of wonder—anger, vengeance, loss, right before I saw myself lying in dirt, blood on my hands, dark clouds covering the sun.
Groaning, I dropped my hand to my side and braced myself on the edge of the table. Ramone held a bottle in one hand and latched onto me with his other. “What just happened?” he demanded.
I shrank back a little, but he didn’t let go. “Answer me,” he hissed, yanking me closer.
My hands flung out, flattening against his chest. His eyes turned dark as he peered down at me, his gaze piercing my own. “I don’t know,” I croaked out. “I don’t know what happened.”
Dropping my hands, I noticed the black glass bottle he gripped by the neck, his knuckles white, stretching the ink along his skin. The container was entwined with tarnished sliver filigree, delicate swirls winding up the bottle in a graceful taper. He flipped it, catching it around the wide body and held it by his side. “You will tell me what you saw,” Ramone warned, not letting the subject drop.
“I will once you tell me how you open doors without touching them,” I challenged him. He’d been responsible for the roses, the necklace, and who knew what else, while not showing up on my security cameras due to whatever trickery he’d engaged in. I’d realized this when he opened the castle’s front door, although I hadn’t wanted to think much on it, hadn’t wanted to admit there was more to all of this.
He wasn’t who he claimed to be—I knew that now without a doubt. And I’d seen him in the crystal ball with Kiara. The images of destruction were so brutal I wasn’t certain I’d ever be able to repeat them out loud.
He stepped even closer, backing me against the damp wall, leaving no space between us. “The same way you used the scrying glass a minute ago,” he answered.
“All I did was touch it.”
Ramone tilted his head. “All I did was tell the door to open.”