Page 2 of Hexed
He’snotfine, but I’ll give him a few more minutes to come to that conclusion himself.
My fingers trace along my exposed collarbone and dip into my cleavage. There’s a pocketknife stashed in my bra, and its presence is so heavy, the metal feels like it’s vibrating against my pale skin. Normally, I’m a poison girl all the way to the end—it’s more artistic, morefun—but the guidelines for this venture were straightforward.
“What are you doing?” He jerks again, his neck arching in a spasm this time. “Fuck.”
Turning his cheek back toward me, I tap it with my fingertips. “Shh. Don’t speak, darlin’.”
“Enough with the pet names,” he snaps.
I smile.
He’s really quite pitiful when he’s agitated.
Trepidation flashes across his face, and his leg twitches, jostling me forward until my breasts press against his chest.
“Un-untie me,” he stutters.
I drag out the knife and flip it open before running my bloodred nails across the sharp edge. “Joey,honey, you’re hardly in the position to be making demands.”
“Untie me, bitch,” he repeats. “Now.Do you know who the fuck I a?—”
His words drop off as another tremor hits, and I take the opportunity, brushing the metal blade down the side of his face and over his Adam’s apple until it’s resting at the base of his throat.
“Careful with that filthy mouth,” I coo, putting pressure on the handle of the knife. “You’re turning me on.”
He pulls against his restraints, no doubt trying to escape, but he won’t be able to. My uncle taught me how to tie those knots when I was fifteen, and I’ve had a lot of practice since then. Still, the movement changes the angle of the blade, and a deep red stream of blood drips down his neck.
His legs twitch with another convulsion, and I shake slightly on his lap.
“I’m afraid those little…muscle spasms of yours are only gonna get worse, honey.”
“Wh-what?” Joey stammers.
I give him a pitying look. “On account of the strychnine I laced your drink with when you were busy putting your face in my tits.”
His breathing grows rapid until he’s gasping for air.
Right on cue.
You can’t ever count on a man, but you can always count on the poison that will kill him…or whatever that saying is.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever studied the beauty of poison.” My eyes peruse him. “Doubtful. Honestly, it’s a lost art. One people don’t take the time to truly appreciate. There’s a beauty in my potions.” I pause and give a self-satisfied grin. “That’s what my best friend back home calls my little concoctions—potions, like I’m some witch here to steal your soul.”
“Fuck… fu?—”
“Technically, I guess he’s not wrong,” I say to myself and then look back at Joey, tilting my head. “The night goddess Nyxhasbeen antsy for a sacrifice, and while she prefers animals burnedand buried, I can never bring myself to harm them, so people have to do.”
Now I’m just fucking with him. While Idopractice baneful magick, I don’t actually sacrifice living things to gods. Most witches don’t.
“You’re a fuck—fucking…psy…cho.”
Sighing, I pull the knife back. “I told you, honey, don’t waste your breath. IfI’mhere, it’s because you made a deal with the devil, and there’s nothing you can do to save yourself.”
“I didn’t d-do anything.”
“Oh, sugar, I believe you, I do, but you know how it is in this business.” I wave my hand in the air. “It’s better if I don’t really know the specifics.”
His entire body is shaking now, jerking uncontrollably while he struggles to take in air.
