Page 112 of Poison's Kiss
I'm suddenly curious about this sinful past of Kane's, but he's a night stalker. On some level I knew there was a destructive and deadly trail. Not to mention, this isn't the time.
Right now I need to focus on getting out from under this hold. It's so much harder than it was earlier. Apparently this bitch didn't use so much strength then.
A distressed grunt slips through my lips when I'm unable to snap free from the invisible force. I glare at her, wishing my magic would just break through the fabric I can't see.
"Feisty little snack you've found," she snarks after a long pause, and then she kneels to the floor and presses the palm of her right hand to the hardwood.
"Just let her go. It's me you want," Kane grunts out through gritted teeth, his words sounding more and more labored each time.
She tilts her head, her crazy eyes meeting mine. "But she wants her."
She?
"Who... wants-"
That's all I can manage. The force on my chest is too painful to let anymore words escape. How in the hell has Kane been talking?
The crazy girl just laughs ridiculously loud, and beneath her hand forms a flash of fire and then smoke. It clears quickly with a magical aid, and then the pentagram is all that is left on the floor beneath her hand. I get sick, knowing this is it.
"The one who died because of you," she murmurs vaguely, leaving me only more confused.
Just when I think she's about to choose one of us to be her third and final victim, she starts chanting. I cringe when I hear the summoning spell I never thought a human could use. I've only ever seen it successfully executed once, and it was my mother behind the chant then.
A gasp rips through my lips when a body appears in a fading motion. It's a girl lying there, writhing in pain as her body jolts from the hasty summon. I don't know her, but I can tell she's dark when her eyes light up a hazy purple. I hold my breath as though it will help.
It's a black widow. This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
I watch in disbelief as the dark hair whips around the convulsing girl's face. She cries out her piercing shrieks as the summoning spell leaves her in excruciating pain. I don't even know how she acquired the blood and hair necessary to complete the spell.
The black widow screeches out her pain again, only to be met by an invisible punch that jars her head back and draws blood from her mouth. The sadistic Barbie running the show just laughs.
"Are you going to tell me she's innocent as well?" she scoffs, her eyes burning into Kane's.
Despite the pain I know he has to be suffering through in order to talk, Kane tries once again to reason with the sociopath holding us captive.
"Jen, you have to stop. You have no idea what killing her will do. You'll have a swarm of widows after you if you do this. Not to mention, you'll be inviting this spirit to live within you until it sees it fit to evacuate your body. More than likely, it'll dwell within you forever. You'll never have control of your body again, Jen. It'll rule you, and you'll have to watch everything you do like you're on the other side of the looking glass."
Her eyes burn through him as her face distorts, the wicked humor fleeing completely. "She wouldn't do that. She's only coming into me to kill all of your filth, and then she'll leave me after she's done what I've asked."
So frigging stupid.
"Did she say that exactly?" Kane forces out with more strain.
The pressure in my chest is threatening to crack my sternum at this point. Tears are teetering on my lids from the unbearable pain.
"Yes," she growls.
"Those exact words?" he repeats.
"She promised me she'd give me what I desire the most, and then she'd leave me in peace. What I desire the most is all of your filth to be gone."
A luminescent silhouette forms in the room. It's nothing more than a weak medley of faded lights, but I can sense the powerful presence the meager light brings. The power behind our restraints tightens, deepens, and almost suffocates my weaker body. Kane struggles as well, finally unable to speak anymore.
The spirit is silencing him, keeping him from casting doubt upon the fragile mortal mind of the human girl who is toying with things far beyond her realm of knowledge.
Kane's hand manages to find mine, and he squeezes my hand as the girl starts the chants again. Jen pulls out a seemingly unremarkable curved knife with an ivory handle. It gleams under the light, and I clutch Kane's hand with what little strength I can muster.
She leans forward and the wrists of the widow split open beneath the blade. The red spills from her veins, running through and darkening the pentagram that is now burned into my floor. The venomous spit froths in the mouth of the spidress as she struggles to lay a deadly bite. Ineffectively, she snaps at the air, unable to break the invisible binds holding her down.
