“Not for sinister purposes, I assure you, although if you’d like to experiment with them later, I’d be happy to show you their various and sundry uses. For now, simply trust me that they’ll be useful.”
I continued to regard the cords warily. He shook his head, smiling. Moving behind me, he gently ran his hands down my arms. “You still don’t trust me. And yet you do. An interesting mix. You fear me but want to connect with me. Do you remember what I said the night we met?” He knelt down, speaking softly in my ear. “This is exactly the way it will be when you come to my bed. You’ll surrender yourself, and though it’ll scare you, you’ll exult in it too.”
“I think you’re imagining more to our charade than there is. And I don’t really see myself feeling exultant over being tied up.”
“Have you ever tried it?” His fingers slowly slid back up to the sleeves of my shirt, like butterflies on my skin. It was…nice. I shrugged him off.
“No. And I don’t need to. Besides, whatever your kinky intentions are, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got something going with Kiyo.”
“Ah. Of course you do. From what I hear, he’s always ‘got something going.’”
I stiffened. “Don’t try to cause trouble.”
“I’m attempting nothing of the sort. Just stating a fact. A man with human blood is just as appealing to our women as you are to our men.”
“I already know about Maiwenn.”
“I see. What do you know?”
“The truth. They used to be involved. Now they’re not.”
“Ah. And that doesn’t bother you? Especially considering it’s likely she’ll try to kill you someday?”
I turned around as much as I could and glared at him. “I meant it: Don’t try to pick a fight. I trust Kiyo, and I like Maiwenn. End of story. Now if you’re going to tie me up, just get it over with.”
He rose from his crouch, the sensuality gone from his voice as he began the business of binding me. “I’d never dream of picking a fight. Your pet fox in there will break my neck if I so much as look at you the wrong way.”
“Don’t act like you’re actually afraid of him. You can supposedly bring down buildings.” I relaxed back in the chair and let him tie my hands together behind me. He took a long time in doing it, like he was weaving or braiding.
“Why, Eugenie, are you saying you’d wager on me in a fight? I’m touched. Very touched. Although, I do hear foxes have very sharp claws. How are those scratches on your back, by the way?”
Kiyo walked out just then, carrying the bowl of water. He froze when he saw Dorian tying a cord above my breasts and around my upper arms.
“What’s this?”
“An awakening,” said Dorian.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Set the water over there.”
Kiyo did so and then stood next to me, arms crossed and eyes on the gentry king.
Again, Dorian took his time in tying my upper body. He used multiple cords, and able to see better this time, I realized he had indeed woven them into an intricate pattern. Aesthetic and functional.
“There.” With a last tight knot, he straightened up and regarded his work. “Not bad. It seems I haven’t forgotten how to tie a decent knot after all. One more thing, and we’re set.”
“One more thing” turned out to be a blindfold.
“No way,” I said.
“Eugenie, my sweet, your outraged protests are adorable, but they only continue to slow us down. If you want me to help you, then let me. If you don’t, then take me to one of those places where human women wear revealing clothing and quickly lose their virtue through alcohol.”
I let him blindfold me, feeling uneasy. I trusted Kiyo and sort of trusted Dorian, but the other bindings had already unsettled me. I didn’t like being trapped or in someone else’s control. The bright world went dark as fabric covered my eyes.
“This is all giving me a bad feeling,” Kiyo said nearby.
“On the contrary,” said Dorian, “it’s giving me a very warm, very pleasant feeling. But I suppose we should return to the lesson at hand, hmm?”
“Is this the part where you explain the bondage getup?” I asked. “Or where I find out you just did it for fun.”
“No, no. As hilarious as that would be, I do have my reasons. Now. I’m going to pick up this bowl of water that Kato so kindly fetched-”
“It’s Kiyo,” came the irritated response.
“So sorry. Anyway, I’m going to set it somewhere out here in this miniature wasteland, and you will tell me where it is.”
“Oh. I get it. I’m supposed to, like, work on my non-visual senses? Listen to where you set it?”
“You won’t use any of your physical senses at all.”
I heard him walk away, presumably with the water, but I couldn’t tell where he set it. He paced and paced in circles, kicking rocks and scuffing his shoes so I was clueless by the time he returned to me. When he spoke next, his words were right by my ear again.
“Now, given freedom, even with just a blindfold, you’d be inclined to move and want to use something- anything-to find the water. You’d turn around, sniff the air, whatever. Now you have to accept that all of that is gone. You cannot rely on what you usually can. You are trapped and powerless-more or less. Give in to that. Open yourself up to whatever comes. Find the water.”
“How?”
“By reaching out to it. Tap into a sense other than the usual five. Remember the exercises we did last time, about reaching beyond yourself-in this world, not the spirit one.”
“I thought magic was inborn. Isn’t that what separates humans and gentry?”
“It is inborn. And your inner magic summons and controls storms. To do that, you must summon and control the appropriate elements. And to do that, you must be able to find them. Hence, you focus outward.”
“How do I do that?”
“Just concentrate. But relax too. Think about the water. How it feels, what it’s like. Spread your consciousness out around you, but don’t go into a trance and let your spirit slip out. That’d be cheating.”
“How long does it take?”
“As long as you need.”
He retreated, and I sat there and waited for some revelation. Okay. Somewhere around me was a bowl of water. And something inside of me was supposed to be able to sense it. I wouldn’t have believed any of it if the living room on the other side of the patio door didn’t stand as proof of my supernatural powers. But I hadn’t had to think to cause the storm. This was different.
All I mostly felt at first was my own body. Dorian’s binds didn’t hurt me, but they were snug. The stitched-up cut stung a little. The back of my head ached. My leg muscles felt stretched and inflamed. I slowly took inventory of every part of me, assessing how each one felt. I could feel the beat of my own heart, the steadiness of my breathing.
After that, I started concentrating on the stuff around me. I heard someone, Dorian maybe, slide up a chair and sit down. A plane droned overhead. One of my neighbors kept a bird feeder, and sparrows regularly chirped and squabbled around it. The harsher cries of less melodic birds sounded in the distance. My street had few houses and was removed from real traffic, but a block or so away, a car started and then drove off.
I thought about water, its appeal growing as the sun beat down. I had put on my own sunscreen and was grateful for it. Still, I could feel sweat pouring off of me. Water would be cool, refreshing. My mom’s house had a pool, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to dive into that crystal-blue surface.
I thought about the bowl of water, thinking of its cool temperature, the wetness on my skin. I tried to feel it, to call to it.
“There,” I said at last. I don’t know how much time had passed. Awhile.
“Where?” asked Dorian.
“Four o’clock.”
