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| Shaman Seduction |
| A Shaman is one who acts as a medium between the visible world and an invisible spirit world and who practices magic or sorcery for purposes of healing, divination, and control over natural elements. |
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| Desiree stood behind the bar watching the band play. Her customers, the usual drunks, were content and inebriated, so she could easily enjoy the sensual beats of the Cuban band. That is until the red eyed demon approached the bar. "What'll be?" she asked in her creole drag. His gaze lifted, dark eyes piercing into hers. The first thing she noticed was the chill in the atmosphere as he began to speak. "What I need is not in any of those bottles you've got back there." Dorian said, the rich Latino accent making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "Well that's too good to put in a bottle." she taunted, assuming he was referring to something sexual. He laughed, flashing her his flawless grin. "My dear, I'm in need of your other service. I could care less about you as a bar maid." She leaned in closer to him from across the bar. His scent was heavy and intense, a familiar one that drove her out of New Orleans in the first place. An aroma that mingled with obscurity and pure evil. Desiree hadn't practiced her witchcraft since she arrived in Miami and she wasn't too sure she wanted to start now--especially with this murky stranger. "What exactly do you think you know about me Monsieur?" questioned Desiree, concentrating on the features she could catalog in her memory by sight alone. He had dark black hair and glassy, cold hazel eyes that tracked her every move with such intensity. His large hands clasped together on top of the bar as he began to respond. "I hear you have the healing touch. Such soft hands. Yes, they are the hands of a healer aren't they?" he whispered seductively, gently caressing the tops of her fingers. Her gut told her to lie and deny any accusations he had about who and what she was, but her other more feminine senses were calling out to her to accept the temptation. It could have been an enchantment he had on her from his touch, but whatever it was, she couldn't shake it. "And where'd you hear that from?" He let her hands slip from his and reached underneath the breast of his shirt. Her gaze wandered to the medallion dangling from the sliver chain he retrieved from underneath the fabric. "My family emblem. A woman of your caliber should be able to understand its meaning I'm sure." The mark of Sorcery. Oh she knew it. Hers was tattooed on the small of her back. She knew for sure he wasn't a witch hunter setting her up for a trap, but was she really prepared to start a life of a shaman all over again? She grew distant as she thought of those last dreadful days in Louisana. It was ironic really; she could cure any disease known to man and mend any puncture or abrasion, yet her magic wasn't enough to heal the pain in her heart of a town that turned their backs on her. If anything, he must really needed her if he went through all the trouble of locating a bonifided shaman witchdoctor. She smiled a wide, genuine grin and pointed to the door. "Wait for me outside Monsieur. I'll be there shortly." He kissed the palrm of her hand delicately. "Gracias." There was an ominous ambiance about the place as Desiree stepped foot inside the Cortez hacienda. She followed him cautiously through the corridor and into his wife's bedroom. Once inside, she saw her patient, Gloria Cortez, very weak, drenched in perspiration. Her curly black hair stuck to her dampened forehead as she peered up to see who had entered the room. Two young children, a seven year old boy and his five year old brother were there keeping her company during her sickly hour of need. The youngest of the two children laid beside his ill mother while the elder one sat by her bedside, cupping her hands in his. "These are my two boys, Nikolas and the one cowering in the bed is Gregory. How many times do I have to tell you two to stay away from your mama? Leave the room now." shouted Dorian as he opened the door for them to exit. They both jumped at his order, but Gloria began to speak. "They are what's keeping me alive. Let them stay." she pleaded as she gasped for breath. "They're fine. There's no need for them to go." insisted Desiree as she approached her patient. She sat her crochetted bag down by her feet. It was filled with magical trinkets and mystical potions that she often used to heal those in need of her assistance. Hopefully, there was something there that could cure Gloria of what was ailing her. "Well I found her now you can stop your complaining." said Dorian. How cruel, thought Desiree as she began her examination. She smiled and brushed the wet spiral curls away from Gloria's forehead. Her eyes were a luminous silver, quite unusual. They were almost like icy crystals. Desiree had seen that look before, but she wanted to study her further before she came to her deadly conclusion. Gloria reached for her hand and pulled her down to her trembling lips. "Help me. Please." she whispered into her ear. "I will do my best mon doux. All I ask is that you trust me." answered Desiree, reaching for the wet sponge on the nightstand to wipe the beads of sweat from her heated flesh. |