Page 70 of Cursed

“Mom?” I whispered.

Silence.

“Shit.”

My head throbbed, and I didn’t know how much time had passed.

I took a breath and pushed myself up and gripped the edge of the tub and braced myself against it so I could stand, but my legs were weak and everything was blurry—

My blood covered the floor, but the symbols I’d smeared onto the tiles were strange and crooked—had I even traced them properly? Or was it all wrong?

Was that why it hadn’t worked?

Not strong enough…

I pressed my lips together and stared down into the tub.

The plug was still in place, but the water had drained out. A dark red ring that stained the stark white of the porcelain was the only evidence that the tub had been filled, and Lucian’s dark silver ring lay in the bottom.

I reached into the tub and drew it out. Pinched between my thumb and forefinger, it glinted wickedly in the soft light.

“Fuck you,” I whispered.

The dark stones winked at me and I let out a furious breath as I looked around for the velvet box. It lay on the floor and my head throbbed as I bent to sweep it off the tiles. I shoved the ring back into the box and the lid snapped shut.

I had lost so much blood—and it had gained me nothing.

Furious with myself, and with my failure, I strode across the bathroom and back into my bedroom.

I laid the grimoire down on the vanity beside its dagger and placed the velvet ring box near the mirror.

The bathroom was a nightmare, but I couldn’t bring myself to clean up the mess.

Not yet.

What if I tried again…

I sank down into the vanity chair and let out a heavy sigh. The grimoire’s pages were dull and lifeless—an unhelpful relic until I dared to spill more blood onto its pages.

“I won’t have any left, soon,” I muttered.

I turned the pages with listless motions. The spells and incantations on the pages seemed simple compared to the one I’d just attempted.

None of them called for blood sacrifice.

Or for sigils to be scrawled in the penitent's blood.

Safe spells.

Sage spells.

I wouldn’t get anywhere with those.

The pages turned with a monotonous rustle and my eyelids were heavy.

It would be so easy to sleep.

No.

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