Serpentdance

"Religious beliefs of the ancient Egyptians were locally diverse and socially stratified. Practically every area of Egypt had its local god, which for its inhabitants was the most important deity, and the elevation of Ra to the level of state god had little effect on this.*" Hana releases an exasperated sigh as she lets the textbook fall to conceal her face. "I can't do this anymore. Remind me again why we're still here."

I give my roommate a sardonic look as her blue eyes peer over the top pages. "Well, because I took Ancient Egyptian History 300 last year, and you're in desperate need of tutoring or you won't pass the next test," I recite.

"You know, you keep saying that, but I'm pretty sure you tricked me into doing this somehow. I'll figure it out, I swear." Hana Reed tosses the book on her desk as she stands from her bed and stretches restlessly. "This dorm is making me feel cramped. How about we call it a day and do some shopping downtown?"

Hana has never been able to concentrate for very long before fidgeting and becoming irritable, and I have no desire to live through another one of her moods so soon. There is a whole weekend separating today and her test, so maybe some fresh air would do her good. The toasty environment of the dorm breeds short tempers, and time away to refresh would probably be more beneficial than another hour of banging her head against the wall and pulling her blonde curls out. Probably.

As I stand to grab my purse, another thought occurs to me. I heard through the grapevine that a new and obscure occult shop had opened downtown; chances were they would have cedarwood or lavender essential oils in stock, or something subtle to help Hana focus.

When I suggest my idea to Hana, she suddenly draws me into a warm hug and thanks me relentlessly. Being a Wiccan sometimes has its advantages.

It takes twenty minutes to ride the campus bus downtown, but another hour to officially get lost. MapQuest would have been a wonderful idea, but usually I can only perform one marvelous miracle a day.

As we circle around a block for the third time, I abruptly feel a mental tug force me to stop, as though my feet have filled with lead. An unnaturally cold, early-October wind stirs my windbreaker and thrashes it about mercilessly. I turn my head to the source and face a narrow, unmarked building. Though curtains are drawn over the two front windows, a faint light softly illuminates the material. Something inside me constricts, and a shiver traces the length of my spine.

"Hello? Paging Miss Oblivious, is anyone home?" Hana startles me out of my trance and I gaze inquisitively at her before my mind clicks into place.

"Sorry, sorry. Umm...I think we're here," I murmur uncertainly.

It seems to take Hana a moment to realize what I am talking about. "Oh." She glances at the building and her brow creases. "Leah...are you sure this is the place?"

"Yes—well, sort of. All I know for sure is that if we hadn't been looking for it, we never would have found it."

"This isn't funny, Leah." Hana turns to me, her face darkened with subdued anger. "I know you don't agree with my habits, but that doesn't mean you have to taunt me."

"What?" Sincere concern coats my tone. "Hana, I honestly don't understand what you mean."

Hana blinks in embarrasment as she senses my cluelessness. "This...this is the place I buy my...you know, stash."

My mind connects the dots, and my mouth falls open a little. I found out Hana smokes weed a month ago when we were doing laundry together. I accidentally knocked over her box of dryer sheets when a foilie, a thin pipe made of tin foil, spilled onto the floor. After denying it for a few minutes, she finally admitted her addiction.

Silence stretches between us until we simultaneously come to the mutual conclusion that it would be better to go inside and leave quickly than to suffer through the chilling wind. We open the door with some reluctance and walk briskly into the shop.

Once inside, the first sensation I have is relief for the warmth. Almost immediately following is an aroma of nauseating power that assaults my senses in a tantalizing wave. Shrugging it off, I glance around at a shelf full of mildly interesting items: mostly crystal skulls and other junk. The majority of the space in the shop is occupied by tall shelves with tomes of various ages, holding subjects ranging from the ridiculous to the remarkable.

After a few minutes of browsing, I notice that I've lost myself in the enticing maze of bookshelves and quickly make my way back to the front—no other customers are in the shop, making Hana easy to find. I locate her in conversation with a man behind the counter. He wears all black, from his sweatpants to his sweatshirt. Even his hair is a wisp of black.

Something about him is intensely erotic, despite his average appearance. As I approach, he levels his almost bemused gaze with mine. His eyes are cold, calculating, almost like a predator, and yet I can't help but marvel at their hypnotic beauty. I find myself fantasizing of all of the dirty, forbidden things I want to do to him, and my body responds with a dull heat rising between my thighs. My nipples harden impossibly, making me grateful for the layers.

Hana elbows my side, drawing me out of my entrancement. I cough uncomfortably. What am I thinking?

"And you," the man addresses me leisurely but with vague interest, "have you come to sate your desires?" He draws out his S's, as if he's taking his time.

I can only stare blankly at a point on his chest as I realize I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about.

Hana answers for me, "Err—no, she doesn't use."

I turn to Hana and frown. She ignores me and continues, "Mr. Slendil, this is Leah Wyndham, a friend of mine and my college roommate. She's clean, though," she adds awkwardly.

"Well, Leah. Everyone has their own addiction, each flavored to suit their needs." Slendil offers a brief smile. "Like popsicles. The question is only what yourss may be."

Instinctually, I meet his gaze again; this time, I'm able to keep a clear head. "I only came here for oils, Slendil. Nothing else."

He leans forward slightly and lowers his voice. His face is impassive, other than a sense of implied lust. "I'm not here to judge, Leah. Only to sell." He points to a display case that I missed in a corner. I go over to inspect the small, overpriced blue bottles, and as I leave he finishes his transaction with Hana. I don't bother asking what she bought as she approaches me and says she'll be waiting in the back of the store until I'm done.

After a few minutes to consider the different oils, during which time I am acutely aware of Slendil's eyes on my back, I choose two bottles and a green soapstone burner with three cobra statues supporting the oil dish. I bring everything over to the counter, where Slendil writes the prices down in flowing script on a receipt notepad in passive amusement. When he finishes, I reach into my jacket and hand the money out to him.

Slendil hands me the carbon copy with one hand, counting the money while I'm still holding it with his other. Our skin touches. Tauntingly slowly, he fans the bills out in my hands.

"Your skin is so soft," he breathes, stroking the back of my hand while his other comes up to glide over my fingers. I stop breathing, my body locking under his cool, velvet touch.

Slendil traces the lines and curves of my hand, turning it over, caressing. His touch is so light it's almost tender. His hands travel up my arm, removing my jacket so he can take it all in. I risk a glance at his face and see him smiling dreamily, a lost look in his eyes. He skims his fingers down my side as his other hand ensnares my wrist in a firm but not painful grip and draws me closer until I'm bent over the counter. Escape doesn't even cross my mind as I let out a low moan as his eyes travel over my exposed cleavage. When his fingertips follow shortly after, a strange heat floods my body with sweet sensations of desire.

I whimper in protest when he eases my fingers apart and takes the money. As if he had hit a switch, embarrassment floods my cheeks with color, and I grab my stuff and turn around before I can further make a fool out of myself. I call out to Hana that I'm ready and swiftly move to the door.

The next thing I hear is Hana crying out in pain.

I pivot on my heel and see Slendil, who has somehow silently crossed the counter to the other side of his store, twisting Hana's wrist behind her back. Crimson rage flares in his brutal eyes; what frightens me the most is the lack of emotion in the rest of his face. When he hisses, almost too quietly for me to hear, his level voice holds blatant threat. "You will watch everyone you have ever loved die horrifically, knowing you could have ssimply followed the rules of my establishment." Slendil lifts his fierce gaze to rest on me.

The color drains from Hana's face. "N-no, p-p-please!"

He whispers something into Hana's ear, his eyes never leaving mine, and drops her as she slumps limply to the floor, unconscious. Fear tightly grips my stomach, yet I'm held immobile, spellbound by his mesmerizing stare. Slendil dances over to me, his whole body swaying with sensual ease.

"Sssso..." he begins slowly. "Now that neither of you are going anywhere, what would you give up to keep your life?"

He looks me up and down, breaking the daze and freeing my thoughts, and I quickly return my eyes to his chest. I realize then just how dangerous Slendil is, and how easily he could kill the two of us. It could be weeks before anyone caught on to two missing girls from such a large city campus.

When I don't respond, he gracefully moves to Hana's side and reaches into her purse, pulling out a plain, black leather-bound book titled Grimorium Verum. It looks very old—and very expensive.

"She tried to rob me," Slendil states. "Ssso she will pay her debt by learning the harsh lesson of why to not steal from me. However..." in one fluid motion, he returns to me with an impossible charm. "I see you have an understanding of the occult that is rare for one so young. I would be willing to trade for your life. Ssso, what would you give?"

"Anything," I state with much more confidence than I feel as I stare at his nose. Despite my absolute terror of him, I can't help but feel the impossibly strong attraction and the need to feel his skin beneath mine.

A spark of interest lightens his mischievous eyes. "How much does this one mean to you?"

"Hana is my friend. I would gladly take her debt—so long as no one dies or gets hurt," I add quickly.

His eyes size me up, as if judging how delicious I may be. "I want what I have entirely too much of, yet have a little more bearable than everyone else: time...with you." His fingers gently stroke the side of my face. "I'm sure something as sssimple as that will suffice."

I flinch away from his touch. "H-how much time?"

"Oh, it won't have to be long. One month will do."

I narrow my eyes in concentration as I catch on to his game. "One month, starting when?"

"Any time I wissh, of course. An hour here, an hour there—what difference does it make?"

Twenty-four hours in a day, at 30 days in the average month: 720 hours. "I have school to attend, Mr. Slendil. I won't be able to drop whatever I'm doing to come here. I have classes during the day, but if we set a night aside then I can prepare during the week to be sure it stays open."

Slendil steps closer to me. After some thought, he says, "Your next four Fridays are mine—you will be here promptly at sunset, and you will leave at sunrise. If you can do this, your friend's debt will be voided."

I swallow passed the sudden lump in my throat, and reluctantly agree to his terms.

*The Oxford History of Ancient Egypt by Ian Shaw.