Page 49 of A Foster Fling
My hand moves of its own volition as it grasps the thick band circling the full strands, and with one tug, it all cascades around my body. The golden tips kiss the floor at my feet, and her mismatched eyes shine with appreciation.
“You’ve really grown into such a beautiful young woman.” Her fingers glide along the tresses, and my body begins to vibrate with energy. “Let’s brush your hair, shall we?”
My head moves in a quick nod, but I feel like I’m moving out of my body as she takes my hand and hums, leading me up the stairs. My heart slows its rapid beating and my lungs drag in the air slowly, matching the melody of her lullaby.
“Mother?” I whisper as she guides me to my large, cushioned couch.
“Yes, Zelinda?”
“Could you tell me the story of how you found me again? While you brush my hair?” I drop to sit in front of her on the floor as she takes a seat on the couch.
“Sure.” She continues to hum, the story coming out sounding more like a song. “One day, I was out in the orchard picking apples with my little boy, Johnny—he wanted an apple pie for dinner—when we heard the shrill screams of a baby. Johnny was so young then, only three himself, and he looked at me with his wide, pale-blue eyes. We didn’t have many visitors, let alone babies.
“We rushed back to the house and there you were, wrapped up in a wolf’s pelt and screaming like a banshee. Poor thing, you were cold and hungry, and completely abandoned.”
“Maybe my parents were sick?” I ask, although it was more likely a young girl not able to care for an infant.
“Could be,” Pearl hums. “Either way, I’m glad. Johnny used to be so attentive to you until I discovered your potency. Then I needed to keep you safe and away from everyone, even him.”
“How is Johnny?”
“He’s still living with my sister in the village. He likes it better there, and he really enjoys the girls.” She sounds a bit sad, and rightfully so, because no matter how often she tells me he’s enjoying himself, I know she sent him away because of me.
To keep me safe.
I’ve never met Johnny. He went to live with his aunt while I was still a young baby, but Pearl tells me he comes to visit her a few times a year.
“Is he married yet? He’s Twenty now,” I snicker.
“No.” She sounds a bit distant. “Johnny is special, and few people like special.”
I want to learn more about Johnny, but Pearl tends to clam up when I ask too many questions. I do know he was named after his father, who died in a tragic accident before he was born, and I know that’s why Pearl thinks I was sent by fate, because she thought she could never have the daughter she always longed for.
As soon as the brush hits my scalp, she begins to hum, and the sound has me closing my eyes on a groan.
Complete and utter bliss.
My head tips back, and I feel her lips graze my forehead, their velvet plush softness pulling me further under. Pearl knows how to cast a spell. She’s a witch, after all. But this is more than that, it’s weaving something stronger, and binding us together, our lives linked like an Ouroboros.
Where she ends, I begin.
“Do you know how much I love you?” She whispers as the brush works through the long strands, and her other hand slips down my neck.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and my skin tingling with her touch.
Her hand grips me tight around the throat, making my eyes fly open in terror, and a frightened squeak to escape my mouth. Those soft lips hit my ear as she tightens the hold around my neck.
“You won’t ever leave here. Right, Zel?”
“Right,” I croak out, trying desperately to breathe.
Finally, those long, black-tipped fingers of hers release me and inch their way down my chest.
“It would be a shame to lose you,” she mutters, the sound still melodic and sensual. “Especially before we could really enjoy our love.”
Enjoy our love?
I can’t tell if I speak the words out loud or not, but the humming increases, and her hand slips down the front of my dress, the fingers grazing along my puckered nipple. The sensation feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and it gathers low in my core, moistening my panties.