Lost in Chastity by Dvanna Hightower

Lost in Chastity by Dvanna Hightower

Author:Dvanna Hightower [Hightower, Dvanna]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: OneHand Press
Published: 2013-05-09T00:00:00+00:00


C HAPTER 11

REGGIE was throbbing by the time they emerged again into the sunlight, and he tamped it down as best he could. The task became much easier when he saw what next awaited him. The dark witch stood near foot of the stairs, as if waiting for them. She smiled at them, and his heart plummeted.

“Candice Maraschino,” sang Mistress Manda, in a sweetly polite voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Amanda Heartsworth,” said Cannie flatly.

“Has your boy been introduced to the entertainment, yet?”

“I can have you thrown out of the gathering for indiscretion,” Cannie shot back.

Reggie’s eyebrows climbed in alarm. He had hoped these women would never talk to each other – especially not while in a bad mood. He doubted he would be able to survive this meeting unscathed even with both of them in a good mood. But apparently, they knew each other.

Of course they knew each other; all of the women knew each other, here. But something wasn’t right. These two had a history, and it was a bad one.

He wasn’t safe. He would be found out, with just a word. Reggie shifted his weight, unsure of what to do.

“My, my, such hostility! I’m simply making pleasant conversation,” cooed Manda.

“You are blocking our way,” corrected Cannie. “Would you step aside, please?”

“Not at all. I’m bringing you an opportunity, courtesy of Ms. Delgado and Ms. Jarving.”

Cannie paused. “Go on,” she said neutrally.

“This is, of course, the entertainment of the gathering – the work of our two talented filmmakers, no?”

Cannie rubbed her eyebrows. “We are not interested.”

“Come now, let the boy have a say. Are you interested in filmmaking, boy?”

“I would thank you to direct your questions to me,” Cannie bit out.

“Hey,” Reggie began, in a rising panic.

“Has he been briefed, then?”

“That’s none of your concern,” said Cannie, her knuckles turning white.

Never before had Reggie seen Cannie’s knuckles turn white. For as long as he’d known her, she had never clenched a fist. A lump of white-hot fire rose in his belly, and he knew his duty with a clear finality.

“Step aside and let the lady pass,” Reggie snarled, breaking in.

His demand was met by two astonished stares.

“Are you sure you want to do this, sweet cheeks?” the dark witch asked him.

“Now,” said Reggie, placing Cannie behind him.

“Even if I ruined your chances for graduation?”

“That,” said Cannie, inhaling, “isn’t his consideration.”

“Your boy,” dismissed the witch. She shrugged and stepped aside.

It was some time later, along the path back to the campsite, before Cannie unclenched her hand and took Reginald’s.

“Thank you,” she said.



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