Netta struggled to maintain her composure with Ash embedded in her mind as the Monster himself sat, a look of calm contentment on his face.  He kept a knee thrown over his left leg, the fingers on his right hand tapping out a low staccato on his knee that was not keeping in rhythm with the slow alternative on the radio.

Netta had to keep from letting her surprise and discomfort showing on her face. She could not keep her nails from digging into the faux leather steering wheel.

How would I even do that? She found herself asking back, even as she had fully intended to tell him no.

Maybe she was feeling wary of the alien presence in her mind, the tether between them, steadily falling, because he retreated slightly.  But, there Ash's voice was, a hot summer breeze in the cold, deep woods. I am not making you uncomfortable communicating with you like this, am I? There was a slight tease in his voice, a dare. I'll tell you what. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.

Netta felt his words so potently in her mind, and the immediate image of something erotic hit her so hard that she was not able to stop it from blazing in her mind. It was so bright - loud - there was no way that Ash could not see it.

As she nearly skidded off of the road, Netta could hear him laughing aloud and in her mind. For a moment she sat, with the car still on the side of the road. Shivering at the wheel and trying to shake off the impression. She wanted to scrub it from her mind, the sheer embarrassment of being caught as preoccupied about sex as Ash himself was.

She felt the pressure of Ophelia's hand on her shoulder. "Netta, are you sure that you're okay -"

Ash, who had blinked out of the car, was standing in front of the now opened driver's side door with his hand outstretched to Netta. Taking it gratefully, Netta was pulled out of the car as Ash told the teenager in the back seat that Netta just needed to rest.

As he walked her to the passenger's side, she felt Ash lean in close to her left ear and she almost jumped as she felt his teeth - sharp - gently clamp down on upper ridge of her ear.  She jolted, and no sooner than she moved to smack Ash than he let go, and then breathily whispered, "Not what I was imagining at that moment in time, but just wait until we can get away from the little Witch later..."

Netta found herself letting him settle her down into the passenger's side seat with an almost ironic show of chivalrous gusto before he blinked into the driver's seat.

"Are we all good?" Ash asked, looking first and Netta and then back at Ophelia before his gaze returned to Netta once he had heard a murmured, "Yes," from Ophelia. The irises of his eyes, already red, seemed to smolder and burst around the alien black orb of his pupils. They were blown large, vortexes pulling the fire of his irises taut. "Are you alright, Lovely?"

Even as Netta murmured back an automatic response, she felt the tether that had been established in between their minds groan as Ash pushed deeper into her mind, enough to leave a definite impression.

Unmistakably, it was Netta as she had been in his woods, near his temple, but from Ash's point of view as he looked down at them. Fully nude, her legs wrapped around his hips, pulled apart from each other at their conjoined abdomens.

Her head was lolled back in what could either be intense pleasure or pain, her mouth opened, her tongue hanging over her lower lip, watering eyes rolled into the back of her head.

She felt a hand on her arm, shaking her as the alien image fell out of her mind. She realized that Ash was looking at her with an expression that could have been construed as worried, his brows actually knit, creased. His eyes, that almost violent shade of blood-red, however, were lit with something else entirely. 

"Oh, Lovely, you look pale. You aren't getting the flu or -"

"N-n-no, I'm fine." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded shrill - desperate.

Tsking, Ash leaned in closely and cupped the side of her face in his left hand. The heat from his palm was incredible - as was the strength that she could feel in his fingers. He cried out in dismay. "You feel feverish!" Tell me, which do you like more after being with me often - on bottom, bent over, or -

"Maybe I just need to lay down," Netta announced, flopping back in a seat. As she did, she quickly realized her mistake - it smelled too much of Ash so that it felt as though his presence had wrapped itself around her.

How did you like it when I did this - the image, of Ash's head buried between her legs, the dark brown locks of his hair creeping over her thighs and stomach like tentacles, blazed in her mind.

Netta gasped and sank further down into her seat, her legs crossing and uncrossing compulsively. Stop it, she ordered him.

"Are either of you Witches hungry, or tired? I mean, we could pull over for a nap," Ash seemed to be adjusting himself innocently enough in his seat.   When he jostled, Netta watched, transfixed, the way that Ash's hand reached down to cup at the front of his jeans. Netta had to stop from letting her eyes bug out of her head as she saw the bulging outline that ran down his crotch to the top of his thigh.

Oh, Goddess, Netta felt herself blurt out over their mental link, heard the ensuing rumble of laughter in return. Ash, this has gone too far.

Why? Whatever's the matter? You aren't horny, are you by chance, Master? The sudden use of that term, used with a biting sarcasm that surprised Netta, made her look over at him in shock. You aren't by chance sexually aroused by your Familiar, are you?

"Netta looks like she might need a moment to freshen up for an hour, maybe two - hell, three might be best, a good nap and a wash should get her feeling well before we do anything too strenuous." Ash said, his voice cheery, warm.

An image of Ash was branded into her mind, naked and reclining on a four-poster bed that she recognized as her childhood one. His frame far too big for the bed so that his left leg was extended with his foot hanging a good distance off of the bottom edge, with his knee raised. Ash's large hand was extended to her in a welcome, even as his eyes were a dare, violently red underneath heavy, arched black brows.

His penis was quite erect - as unfortunately overlarge and monstrous as she had remembered, his foreskin pulled back to reveal a bludgeoningly thick appendage.

It seemed to be pointing at her accusingly.

"Enough!" Netta snapped out, wincing as she tried to forcibly remove the image from her mind. "I just want to go back and get this over with." Why are you doing this to me? Anything that you would want to get out of this partnership you've already got in front of you to use. Why do you act like you want to have sex with me?

Has it ever occurred to you that having sex with you is the point? The lack of sarcasm in his voice then, the seriousness of it, sober, shocked Netta. I'm sick of being interrupted and not being able to experiment in a bed. Come now, I am like a rabbit - if you don't have sex with me, I'll die from sadness. After all, Ash glanced over at her and fixed fiery red eyes on her face. we're going to be doing this for a long, long, he bent a hand back down and massaged along the length of the bulge that ran along his thigh. long, long time.

There was an extended silence, and in it Netta realized her mistake by sounding to the Witch in the back seat as though she was angry for no reason.

Finally, Ophelia said, "Maybe your Familiar's right. You look - tired."

Netta raised a hand to her forehead and realized that she did sound, and indeed felt, feverish. It was certainly not, however, from lack of energy.  Her heart felt as though it were trying to beat out of her chest with erratic hammer blows.

Ash, who had pulled over to the side of the road, turned to Netta, leaned over the central console. He cupped the bottom half of her face in one of his massive hands. "Ooh, you look like you need some rest. Something's bothering you."

Netta looked into his eyes, and realized her mistake only when it was too late to reverse it. His eyes seemed to burn into her gaze, where they were seemed to be branded in her eyelids in pin pricks when she could finally blink.

What do you keep cooped up in here, Ice Queen?

She felt his presence sweep through all of her as though the doors on her mind had been thrown open to a rogue wind that swept through the inside. She gasped, the feeling of him fusing himself with her in a one-way trade leaving her feeling exposed.

She could feel him able to look at her hidden emotions. Her feelings for him chief in her mind, flanked by mostly bittersweet feelings for Wallace and for the miserable feelings towards her family.

Netta leaned over and slapped Ash.

She felt him recede from her mind like a leech touched with salt, the emptiness left by his presence yawning widely inside of her.

"That's enough!" She nearly yelled.  When she looked at Ash, she felt her surprise return as she saw the almost innocent look of what looked like genuine surprise on his face. 

Numbly, he rested a hand on his cheek.

As they looked at each other for what felt like far too long, she wondered if the look of surprise was because of the light slap, or was perhaps because of something that he saw in her mind.

"This is a detour," Netta announced as they got out of the car in front of the Tarot Cafe. A quick glance showed what Netta knew already.

It was closed, indefinitely.

Ophelia, who got out of the backseat cautiously, looked up at the building, her brows gathered tight. "What is this?"

"It's where Calliope lives - used to live." Netta looked around the empty street, feeling a sudden paranoia hit her that a Human might overhear her. "It's cold out here, let's go inside."

Netta approached the old storefront and was submerged back in time. As they approached the door, Netta saw as it opened from inside.

Jumping back, Netta heard Ophelia say his name before she had a chance to. 

Ash stood with the door opened, an impatient look on his face. "If the both of you could get inside, we can begin, I don't know, ransacking this place."

Coming up to the door, Netta allowed Ophelia to pass through into the building first. Glancing at Ash, she asked, "How did you get in here? There were wards -"

"The wards break like snapped chain links once the Witch who made them dies." Locks are child's play to me, I hope you know.

Netta chose to ignore his speaking in her mind, brushing past him. The barely repressed animosity that she heard in his voice, aloud and in her mind, disturbed her.

As she walked inside, however, she found that her anxiety that was caused by Ash had left her mind.

It was the sight of the old shop from the inside. It had transformed into a place, dark, symbolic of the life force of the odd little place. It seemed to have died alongside its master, gone was the magic that had increased the small space tremendously. The air smelled dank, musty - as though it had been unoccupied for some time.

Faced with the real size of the place - approximately the size of a boutique shop - Netta felt her heart shrink.

"Oh -" Netta rose a hand to cover her mouth, a weak emotion choking her.

Are you okay?

I'm - I'm fine, she found herself unerringly answering back without even thinking about it.

On the other side of the small room, Ophelia looked around her with her arms raised in surprise before slamming them down to her sides.

"What's with this place? I mean, it's ridiculously small-"

"What's the opposite of a reduction spell, young Witchling?" Ash asked, walking up close to Netta.

Netta braced herself to feel him wrapping his arms around her, and when he didn't, she felt as though she could breathe again.

Ophelia crossed her arm and glowered at him, saying nothing.

Netta, sighing, made for the back room, hoping that based on the negative energy between the two that she was with, that it would prove to be the same size as it had been before to save her from being trapped with them both in close proximity.

As Netta opened the door, she heard Ophelia speak up. "Wait - I thought that she died in here, how come this place isn't cordoned off -"

Netta answered as she opened the back door, the sudden memory of the death refreshed in her mind with unwanted clarity. "Because - there was no body to find, even if my family's failsafe of wiping human's collective memories of her existence didn't work, then a Witch who's completed the Ritual of Binding with a Monster forfeits her body to the non-material world. There was no body, by the time anybody would have gone looking for her, and at the same time she turned to dust, this place likely turned back into - this."

Netta realized, as she pushed the door opened, that she was one of those Witches now. When she died, there would be no body in a few days' time, only dust.

She didn't realize that she had mused on that point, her thoughts projecting into words through the mental tether that connected her and Ash, until he recanted, better living happily than to have the distinction of being a corpse.

Trying to ignore the now rapidly becoming familiar feel of Ashwood's presence in her mind, Netta walked into the back room. Hesitating for a moment, she fumbled for the light switch on the wall next to the door.

She slammed her eyes shut as the single bare bulb that hung from the ceiling shuddered to life. Opening her eyes, Netta was relieved to find that she had been right about the corpse not being there.

Looking around the room, she first looked at the desk that she had found Calliope's corpse on. Walking over to it, Netta dragged her finger along the surface of it.

Clean, Ash added in a grim voice. Someone's cleaned up Auntie Callie's remains, it seems.

Netta bit her lip, winced. She had hoped that she would find something here. Some piece of a puzzle that she had no knowledge of. As time passed, it seemed overwhelmingly unlikely. Shit.

"Let's take a look, see if there's anything here." Ophelia said.

All three started to search, looking through the stacked cartons in the corner, the inside of the desk or in Ophelia's case, walking out of the room to look through the interior of the storefront.

After some silence, Ophelia spoke. "So - this woman - the one who died - did you two get along?"

Ash, busy digging through a shoebox marked, "Tax Paperwork '90-'91", said, "As much as you can, with a shitty excuse for a person."

Netta ignored him, said, "She was - loyal to my Mother, the Coven Matriarch." She swallowed a heavy lump that seemed to have appeared in her throat. "She participated in the Awakening ceremonies that they put on, but I think that she held back on cruelty." Unlike most of the other ones.

"Awakening ceremonies?" Ophelia had stopped looking and was now turned, staring at Netta. "What are those?"

Ash spoke again, his voice flat, speaking quickly, barely repressing an obvious anger. "Just some old fashioned nonsense that, somehow, a Witch who does not show "talent" for magic can be made to be, I don't know," he let out a breath of air as a hiss, "made to better express it by having the shit beaten out of her. Or just plain tortured."

Netta stared at him, watching as the angry, large Monster tore through the shoebox before he tossed it onto the ground, the box partially shredded, before he kicked it away and moved onto another one. His features seemed to have been drawn tight - and Netta could see how the muscles of his right arm seemed to be tensed, like a spring set to burst.

She hesitated. Ash...

Netta wondered, if this show of emotion from him was due to his rage at what she had gone through. The thought that he had been enraged by her treatment - her torture - so shocked Netta that, for a moment, all she could do was stand, staring at him. Netta shook her head, then turned to look at Ophelia. For some reason, she could not make herself damn her Sisters for what had happened, perhaps out of some old, reflexive sense of duty.

"That wasn't - totally all there was to it. They - Mother thought that I needed to have my power awoken, or else I would - I would live as a Human." She never could abide weakness, least of all from her own blood. And I was weak - I took a powerful creature on as a friend, without being able to tell the danger in it.

She continued, not bothered then by the fact that Ash could surely freely read her thoughts then if he wanted to. "And it wasn't just - torture. There was a methodology to it, they practiced old methods of awakening magic, by causing stress in the body and having power rise up in response to the immediate threat..." She trailed off, feeling then the weight of Ophelia's gaze on her, enigmatic.

The teenager quietly spoke then. "I wouldn't know anything about that. Miss Kienna would never let any of us do that - when Anais was slow to show signs of magic, we never - she never had us try to hurt her." Ophelia swallowed, then looked down at the ground. "I dunno. That - that just sounds cruel. I don't know if this woman - the dead one - sounded like a very nice Witch when she was alive, to help with - that."

Ash said nothing. Netta turned and saw the name of the Witch whose back room they were in, engraved in a dust-covered plaque on the wall. She stared at it, remembering the feel of the woman's arms around her.

She remembered, unpleasantly, how hollow the feeling of the weight of those arms felt - how the supposedly intimate, kindly moment had been overwhelmed by a shadow of pain, anguish.