Page 92 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

Shit.

He was hot.

“Sorry.” The word felt like cotton in my mouth as Prudence huffed out an aggrieved sigh. Like I’d done this to spite him. I couldn’t contain my laugh. But the sound abruptly died as I spotted murdery dude behind him, a rock in his hands, his eyes wild, and blood smeared across his face. “Prudence watch ou—”

The rock came slamming down on Prudence’s head. Buuuut—instead of making contact, it went right through him. The guy was so surprised he fell forward, toppling on top of my head with a startled squawk.

Sweat. Ew. Ew, ew, ew.

Gross, murdery man, sweat.

I couldn’t brea—

“I told you—” Prudence hauled the guy off of me, grabbing him by the throat, and lifting him into the air, as he rose from his squat in one fluid motion. The guy dangled and Pru gave him an angry shake. “If you touched him again, I’d kill you.”

Dude scratched at his hands, but his fingers only met his own flesh.

Prudence clucked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Close your eyes, Pinkie. Unless you want nightmares.”

There was no way in hell I was missing this.

I expected Prudence to…to something. To break the guy’s neck maybe? A sick sort of fascinated horror filled me as I waited in anticipation. But he didn’t. He didn’t have to. Slowly, seconds ticked by, and the dude’s skin grew paler and paler. Prudence began to glow. At first it was a soft, pulsing thing. But it grew stronger, and stronger. Almost like he was sucking the life right out of him. The brighter Prudence glowed, the more color drained from the other man’s face.

The guy kicked his legs, feebly trying to get out of his grip, but there was no use. The longer Prudence held on, the weaker the guy became, until his kicks were nothing more than twitches, and I watched, slack-jawed, as his body finally grew still.

Prudence tossed him aside like he weighed nothing at all. Like he was, nothing at all.

Nope.

Not a dead body.

Not a whole ass human, now murdered.

No siree.

Just a big ole six-foot-something sack of potatoes.

Prudence squatted down by my head again, this time more solid than before. The earlier glowing was gone as quickly as it’d come. He made an annoyed sound, then gently fingered my curls, probably checking for lumps. I held still. So very still, as he explored my body, testing for bruises and bumps, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

He was acting just about as overwhelmed as I felt.

His pale eyes were angry, scared.

My heart hurt.

“Guess your ‘almost murder’ record is now officially, an ‘actually murder’ record,” I joked. Prudence laughed, and the sound was so sudden and sweet it startled me.

“Are you okay?” It was the first time he’d asked me that, and the realization made my head spin. I should be scared of him. I should be terrified. Murder, duh? But his killer hands just felt good, and his laugh made my heart race. “Are you okay?” Prudence repeated a second time when I didn’t respond, uncharacteristically patient.

For the first time in my life I wasn’t even tempted to lie. I’d been asked ‘are you okay’ thousands of times probably, but never like this. Never with open honesty and care laced into every syllable. Coming from a man like Prudence, this meant something.

I swallowed, my head spinning as I nodded, then immediately regretted it because it made my head hurt even more.

And then something horrible occurred to me.

Panic.

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