Page 10 of Cursed to Be Mine
“What does that mean?” I ask, pulling my hands out from under the tap and dabbing them over my cheeks. The itch consuming my skin lessens a bit.
“A voodoo doll.”
A shudder runs through me as the presence of the mirror prickles my spine again. Not wanting to be alone in the restroom anymore, I quickly wave my hands under the dryer. My eyes keep the mirror in my peripherals, making sure nothing comes out.
“They tortured him for something,” Henry continues.
“Any idea of what?” But even as I ask, I know he won’t answer. All information goes through Derek first. He’s given the members the green light to tell me about any deaths, but the specifics are all kept quiet. It’s so we can’t be tortured for information, he says. But I reckon it’s more because of his paranoia. Derek doesn’t trust anyone.
Not that I blame him.
Walking backwards, still facing the mirror, I head for the door.
“Nope, but I don’t think the mutt gave it up.”
“How can you tell?”
“They tattooed a death rune on his arm. Until this body decays, his soul is theirs to torture.”
Ice spears my stomach. My blue gaze trembles on the mirror. “They can do that? Split one’s soul from their body?”
“Mmm. Make a deal with the devil,” Detective Howard says as he takes another bite of his lunch, “and you can do anything.”
The glass of the mirror ripples again, and I jerk, hitting the restroom door with my back. Grabbing the handle, I want to wrench it open and tumble out. But I force myself to still. Benjamin doesn't know about the WALL, like most people don’t, and I can’t go out looking like I’ve seen a monster. If there are any lingering reporters, someone will undoubtedly twist the facts to say I was traumatized over being near sick children.
“I’ve got to go,” Howard says as someone else’s muffled voice comes down the line. “But I’ll see you tonight if you want more info.”
“Thanks,” I say, my heart in my throat as I keep my eyes on the mirror. It’s flat again. Normal. Shaking my head, I take a deep breath. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Hanging up the phone, I grope for the door handle behind me, then quickly twist around and exit.
Nothing grabs me to drag me back into the mirror. The door clicks shut. Benjamin looks up from his phone. “The car’s been brought around, ma’am.”
The hospital continues its routine of normality.
There are no demon children here. The witches don’t know I know about them. Exhaling slowly as we walk to the exit, I try to get my heart rate back down.
But it’s fucking hard when in the back of my mind, I know I’m a dead woman walking.
It’s only a matter of time.
FOUR
HIM
My girl will be here soon. I have waited months for her, and now only a few more days separate us being together. The crawl of my skin beckons a shift in time, a use of magic that has her under me at this moment.Now.
My fingers tighten with unwanted control as the smell of her consumes me – beckons me like a phantom touch of her pussy grinding against my lips.
Like she did this morning.
Like she could be doing before the week is over.
But not sooner, as much as I wish it. Playing with time, although mentioned in the whispered tales of possibility, only comes with uncontrollable destruction. Magic is a volatile entity that pushes against one’s command, a dark curse of power that wishes to see the world in its natural state of ordered entropy. To use it without specific focus, to let it run wild in all its possibilities (necessary to bend something as vast as time) would, at best, kill me. Atworst, it would grab the attention of the archangels – the seven males responsible for keeping the universe in tight order. The seven males more feared than the wrath of the gods themselves.
So I fight the urge to attempt to bend time to my will. I will not be robbed of life before I even get the chance to slide my cock into my girl’s gorgeous holes.
My lips roll in, and my tongue darts across them. I can still taste her there in the depths of my mind. But I have licked and sucked on them so much today, her sweet taste is long gone from my skin.
