The water, hot and sudsy with the industrial soap burned my hands. Not for the first time I reflected on the perversity of my Matron's sense of humor, for it was well known that during my apprenticeship I was more than willing to muck stables rather than scrub pots.
"Balance" I thought to myself wryly "in all things"
I had been guided to this restaurant a little over two weeks ago and still had no idea why. I applied for the only opening they had available, dishwasher, and trusted in my Goddess to supply the details in her own good time.
Mr. Simmons, the owner, walked past me briskly. He did not even spare a glance as he made his way to the stockroom. I felt the sharp, stabbing pain in my chest that was the warning from the Lady that my task was approaching.
Alert now I slowly wound the aura around me, an aura of not needing to be seen. It is not quite being invisible, more like being unnoticed, but it is good enough.
Maria, a doe βeyed Spanish woman whose face showed even more beauty for the grace which she carried her years, scuttled furtively by me with downcast eyes. Fear, guilt and self-loathing was etched on her face and she carried with her the feel of one who had to do an unpleasant job but was determined to see it through. I focused on her and the pain was replaced by a warm glow. She was the one.
I drifted behind her, a shadow that mixed and mingled with the other shadows of the dim storeroom.
"Well, you stupid cow," Mr. Simmons said savagely "Decided to keep your job again this week?"
"Mr. Simmons" she started.
"Shut βup, whore" he taunted "you know what we do, what keeps INS off your doorstep week to week"
Wordlessly she knelt in front of him. In the dimness I could see tears leaking out of her eyes as she fumbled with the tongue of his belt. I grimaced as he slapped her hand away.
"Not so easily, Whore, " he chuckled " You need to ask first"
"Mr. Simmons" she replied in a, dead, numb voice, " I am just a little whore, and would like to suck your cock, may I please?"
I winced as his fat hand grabbed the hair on the top of her head and he jerked her face upward. A sharp crack echoed through the room as he slapped her, hard enough to hurt but not leave a mark.
"Again, Whore" he snarled at her.
I sent out a gentle, probing thought and touched each of their minds. His mind was drunk with the exultation of power and a deep, unclean lust, while hers full of self-loathing, and sunk in despair. This was no game played between lovers; this was a vile and disgusting rape of a woman who wanted only a better life for herself and her children.
Rage flooded through me, empowering me. Slowly with a grim coursing anger I gathered my will. I focused all my attention on his black and pitiless heart, if such an animal could be said to have a heart, and prepared to unleash the lethal intent that flowed through me.
"No, my Love" her soft voice of silver trumpets reached out to me.
"My Lady" I grated "This will not be borne."
"My Love" she spoke "I would not lose thee. Release thy will and calm thyself"
Gently, soft as a whisper I felt her hand encompass me. The roaring torrent of rage in my heart subsided under her touch. My Lady had reached out her gentle hand and brought me back from the awful abyss that threatened to claim my soul. For that is the one thing we are forbidden. No matter the provocation, save in the defense of a child, we are not permitted to use our skills to kill.
"Yes, my Love, " she said so softly "'Twas a near thing. There is, however, a better way"