Page 82 of Bad Demon

Cursing under her breath, she pressed a finger to Fern’s lower lip, exposing her raw gums. Then she carefully pulled back the covers. Fern was still in my shirt, and I hissed when she lifted the sleeves, revealing the new scars there.

“Tell me what condition you found her in.”

“Do you know who did this?”

“How did you find her?” she barked.

“Strapped to a gurney naked, in a room full of fucked-up creatures I’d never seen before.”

She placed her hand on Fern’s chest, and a tear streaked down her face as she nodded, as if someone had said something to her.

“He hurt her,” the witch whispered, her voice breaking. “So many times, in so many ways. He healed her but made sure she’d scarred, then did it again and again. His magical imprint is all over her. How long did he have her?”

“Four days.”

She shook her head. “The first time?”

This witch had to have the gift of sight or something like it.

“I don’t know. But I think she was very young. I think he got to her after her mother was murdered.” I wanted to roar at the thought of someone hurting her, of someone hurting my precious female, of taking pleasure from it.

She nodded, and more tears fell as she hovered her hand above Fern, moving it over her, jerking when she reached the long scar below her ribs. “Her liver. He removed it.”

My lips curled back in a snarl.He cut her fucking liver out?

I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself, what to do with all the rage inside me.

I watched as she carried on, jerking back more forcefully when she reached her hips.

“A virus. He infected her with some kind of virus, but it’s all tangled up with magic, a twisted kind, with barbs and hooks. It’s sunk in deep and taken hold of her, but she’s trying to fight it. She’s fighting so hard.”

“Can you help her?” Jagger asked.

She didn’t look away from Fern. “I think so.”

I tightened my fists. “And if you can’t?”

“If I can’t, she’s in serious trouble.” She finally looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “If this doesn’t work, then you might need to prepare yourself.”

Like fuck. I wasn’t losing her.

“When can you start?”

“I need some things from my place, and then I’ll begin.” She climbed off the bed, strode up to Jag, and tilted her head back but didn’t meet his gaze. “Let’s go then, Prince Charming.”

Jag’s eyes flicked between moss green and gold. Jaw tight, he motioned for her to lead the way.

* * *

When the witch—Sutton—returned, she’d brought a large purple polka dot bag with her. She stood by the bed now and placed a wooden box on the bed at Fern’s feet. Taking a small clay pot from her bag, she added several oils that had a strong smell, followed by herbs and some other things I couldn’t identify, before using a stone pestle to mix everything into a paste while she whispered a spell.

Finally, she looked up at me. “Whatever happens, you can’t get in my way or try to stop me. If you think you’ll have trouble doing that, then you need to leave.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“Then, I suggest you get your brother back in here, just in case.”

“Jagger’s not seeing my female naked,” I snarled.

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