Tabula Rasa

Chapter One

Nadia sighed and dropped into the ratty old recliner at the halfway house. She sat up and slipped her jacket from her shoulders, then swept her heavy brown waves up into a ponytail. Goosebumps pricked on the shaved sides of her head, and she hunched over in the chair and ran her fingers over the scalp tattoos there. Another job interview gone bad. If she didn't find a job soon… well, she didn't want to think about that right now. Not many places would hire convicted felons.

She couldn't go back to prison. Sure, she had friends there, but she could make friends on the outside, right? Life's not meant to be lived behind bars. Nadia still wasn't sure how she got out as early as she did. Couldn't have been for good behavior, she was almost one-hundred percent positive the warden knew she was smuggling in contraband to sell to her fellow inmates. They called her "The Gypsy," and it was pretty accurate. All she needed was a caravan and some brightly-colored scarves tied around her hips. She talked the talk, walked the walk, and she was the queen of bartering and bullshitting.

Nadia snorted, the bitterness screwing her face into a derisive smirk. I could sell shit to a shepherd, but that don't count for shit if I don't have "on paper" experience.

She raised her gaze to the staircase where her roommate Erin sat with an un-lit cigarette in her mouth.

"No good?"

Nadia shook her head.

"No good. Going outside?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, I'm coming with you." Nadia got back up and shrugged her coat back on, taking a pack of Marlboros out of her pocket. She reached the stairs as Erin took the last step, and they linked arms and crept out the back door.

The little redhead lit her smoke and passed Nadia her lighter.

"What a waste of a good interview outfit. Seriously, you look fuckin' hot."

Nadia lit her cigarette and passed the lighter back to Erin. She inhaled deeply, held it, and then let the smoke roll out through her nose.

"Shut the fuck up." She looked down at the matte black heels and black pencil skirt. Goddam right I look fuckin' hot.

"Fuck you, you do!"

Nadia snorted. "Not hot enough for an insurance office, apparently. Or too hot? I hadn't seen so many women sneer at me since prison, and even then, that was tame." She sighed and flicked ashes to the concrete patio. "If I don't get a legit job soon… I don't know, Erin. I might not have a choice. I found my cache, all of my tools and gear are still there."

Erin rubbed at her bottom lip and nodded. "I don't like it, but shit… you gotta do what you gotta do, sister. I'll keep my eyes peeled." She took a hard drag of her cigarette, then exhaled slowly. Her eyes darted back and forth and she licked her lips nervously. "I did see this crazy big mansion on the bus home today, security didn't look too bad–"

"Wait. No details, not yet. I've got one more job interview tomorrow. Let's see how that goes first."

"What for?"

"Secretary, some lawyer."

Erin quirked an eyebrow. "Really. You really think a lawyer is going to hire a convict?"

Nadia finished her cigarette and flicked it out into the street.

"He'd better, or it's back to the life."

Crowley poured himself another glass of scotch, his signature smirk spreading across his lips. He got her out of Camino Nuevo, and he made sure each interview was a bust. It was only a matter of time before she came to him. The trap was set. He decreased the patrols, and aside from a few necessary sigils, removed all magical wards. Bloody clever, that woman. She'd sniff those out in a heartbeat.

He unbuttoned the lawyer's suit jacket and sat in the lawyer's chair, downing the glass of scotch in the process. With a snap of his fingers, the empty tumbler became a full, steaming mug of coffee. It was almost show time. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a mirror, checking the temporary meatsuit's appearance. Bloody hell, I look like Jon Hamm gave up on acting to become a smarmy injury lawyer. It was perfect.

Crowley looked at the clock. 8:59am. As it struck nine, there was a knock at the door. He grinned.

"Come in!"

Nadia opened the door reading "James A. Michaels, Esq." and stepped in. "Mind if I hang up my coat?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she set down her briefcase and shrugged off the long, brown leather coat and hung it up. She shook off the cold and picked up her case again, turning to get a look at this James A. Michaels.

He was tall, a little more handsome than the average man, but he was just that, average. Something about him seemed off to her, though. A smell lingered in the air that reminded her faintly of blown-out matches and campfire. A memory flashed in her mind, hiding away in the hills of Scotland as a teen. Had she ever been there? The memory floated away like wisps of smoke in the rain.

He was standing behind his desk, and for a moment he seemed shocked. As quickly as the shock was there, it seemed to pass, and he stepped around the desk and held out a hand.

"Hello, Miss… uh… "

"Romancek," she offered, taking his hand to shake it.

"Romancek," he purred. He bent slightly at the waist and brought her hand to his lips. His mouth lingered a little too long; it made her skin crawl, but something told her this was familiar. She smelled rotten eggs, but behind it, the scent of damp moss and clean, wet grass blinked in and out. The memory flashed in again, but this time she felt the press of a thumb on the corner of her lips and someone's forehead pressed to hers.

Nadia tried to calm her heart rate. When the lawyer stood straight again and flashed her a grin, she returned his smile and cleared her throat. "May I sit?" He sat down and laughed.

"I'm sure you'll do it whether I give you permission or not, Miss Romancek. Go ahead, have a seat."

He only maintained eye contact until she sat, and then he made a show of letting his eyes slowly drift down her entire body, stopping at the hem of her skirt and back up to her eyes again. When his eyes met hers again, though, something changed in his face. Lust turned to longing, and his eyes flicked down to her lips as his breath hitched.

Nadia crossed her arms under her chest and drummed her fingertips against her bicep. This was starting to piss her off.

"Mr. Michaels, if you'd like me to come back another time–"

"No. Sorry, I… just didn't expect someone like you."

Here we go. Another fucking waste of time. She gave him a once-over and smirked. Eh. Might as well have some fun. While he straightened himself up and looked through her resume and cover letter, Nadia let her mask slip on. Her eyes went wide and innocent, and she licked her lips to make them glisten.

"Someone like me?" She let her tightly crossed legs go a little slack, just enough to give a few more inches look up her skirt, but not enough to flash her panties. His eyes flicked to the movement, and she swore she heard a soft growl before his eyes locked on hers. They were dark and hungry, but cautious. He was a caged beast offered raw meat, but he knew damn well who was doing the offering.

Nadia leaned forward and placed both hands flat on the desk. She rose from her chair slowly, keeping her hands on the table, staying bent, letting him get a good look down her blouse. She stood straight and walked around behind the desk, and before he had a chance to react, she had him by the belt and yanked him to his feet.

"Wha–OOF!"

Nadia pushed him hard against the bookcase and climbed up a shelf to wrap her legs around his waist. She made quick work of his tie, slipping it from around his neck. She licked and nipped at his collarbone and rolled her hips. He responded with a low moan and yanked her closer, one arm around her waist and one hand firmly gripped to her ass. He flipped them and pressed her against the shelves, grinding hard and slow against the little bundle of nerves between her legs. She gasped and mewled her approval. C'mon, Nadia, get control. She gave his ear a nip and whispered, "Sit."

He lowered them to the chair, and as if under a spell, his caresses became gentle, and he pressed tender kisses to her throat. She got up from his lap and moved around behind him, lightly teasing his scalp with her fingernails. He let out a soft whine at the loss of her.

"Do you trust me?" she said as she bent down to drag her tongue along the shell of his ear. Her fingertips danced down his arms, and he went limp.

"Mmmmm…. Mm-hmm." He was practically in a trance, putty in her hands.

Nadia gave out a long, low chuckle.

"You shouldn't."

Before Crowley could ask what she meant, she had his hands tied behind the chair. Cheeky girl. He grinned up at her as she came around in front of him and made to unbutton her blouse.

"Hmmm… Should I?" She put a finger to her lips and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think.

Yes, yes, you should, you definitely should. He struggled to get free. He wanted to rip that pretty little blouse, right down the front.

His grin faded as she picked up her briefcase and walked to the coat rack.

"It's been fun, Jimmy. Catch you on the flipside."

Once he heard the door click, he smoked out of James and back to his own meatsuit that he'd left sitting in the closet. Crowley smoothed his hair back and adjusted his tie. He stepped out into the office to see James trying to break out of the chair.

"What the fuck?! How… YOU! What did you do?!"

"Tabula rasa."

James went limp. Crowley snapped his fingers and set the office to rights, making it look like the sleazy lawyer simply fell asleep in his chair. And when he woke up, all of this would just be a weird dream.

Crowley teleported back to his home and collapsed on the couch in his office. Some weird dream, indeed. His thoughts drifted to the wild, beautiful gypsy girl who knew him as Fergus. She never gave her name, but he knew every curve of her body, and he knew those hazel brown eyes.

He had no idea when he set this up he'd be running into his gypsy again. All he knew was that he was chasing down a powerful witch, who for centuries remained unlinked to any demon, or any coven. She worked alone, constantly moving, not only employing her skills in magic, but her skills in assassination and thievery to survive and sock money away.

Now he knew where his gypsy was, and he knew she was the witch he'd been trying to catch all these years.

Crowley chuckled. Crowley laughed. And laughed.

Oh, my little gypsy. How I will make you suffer.

Author: Hi! Hope you liked it! Reviews are welcome!