Page 88 of Cursed to Be Mine
And then we make it to the living room, far enough away from my girl.
On the next block, I wrap my arm around his to anchor him down, but instead of trying to pull away, he reaches behind him.
For a knife or a gun, it doesn’t matter. This close and with his training, I’m about to bleed.
Scraping my nails into his arm, I dig past skin just as a blade rips out around his hip.
“Valek ke zef,” I murmur, not a rise of infliction in my tone. Even still, the magic splits in the air, twisted and deranged from how I meant to use it.
The uncontrollable energy ruptures between us, tossing us back like change to a rude customer. I slam into the edge of a table and flip over it. The wound on my neck boils hot, the blood frothing with angry magic, and I slam a hand over it, drawing the magic out and shooting it into the room with my other hand. A bubble forms around me, keeping the energy from seeking my wound out again.
Derek hits the wall opposite, screaming as his arm melts, the blood I drew attracting the wayward magic. It burns through his body, causing blisters to bubble on his skin as it arcs towards his heart.
Blood pours out of his mouth, followed by whispers of smoke. The blisters pop, exploding magic. Pieces of him fly free, painting the ceiling and furniture.
Half of his face lands in front of me, an eye melting into the carpet.
His other eye rolls back into his half-collapsed skull as he slinks against the wall. Lifeless.
The magic sated, it disappears in the air, and I climb to my feet, only to fall sideways, flipping over the arm of the couch and then tumbling to the floor.
A hiss ruptures the air as I lie on my back, agony shooting through both sides of my body. My half-healed kidney is one of the culprits. The other is a six-inch knife embedded in my stomach. The fucker must have stabbed me just before we were ripped apart. Adrenaline kept the pain down until now, but with the fight over and me staring at the fucking thing embedded to the hilt, my nerves catch up on a scream.
Gritting my teeth, I place a hand on my stomach, the blade between my thumb and forefinger. Then with my other hand, I pull the knife straight up. Pain flares deep, but it is quickly soothed by the warmth of magic flowing through my fingers.
Although I’m not a healer like Mother, she’s taught me a few spells to keep me from dying. I can’t heal the wound completely, but I can stop it bleeding, and that’s all I need for now.
Dropping my head back against the floor, I breathe out with a curse. I fucked up. I fell asleep with her in my arms instead of heading back home because I convinced myself one night would be fine. Derek was a man of habit. I’d leave before he woke up.
“Fuck.”
I could have got her killed, and if I had died, she would have been tortured for information, her cries of knowing nothing not believed.
I need to hide his body and clean the place before she –
“Derek? It’s six...”
Her voice freezes me on the floor, and I am intensely aware of just how bad the living room looks. A drop of blood falls from the ceiling and lands on my face. My hands moving, I start to conjure a spell that will get her to walk in the opposite direction.
Tension tugs at every muscle and every bead of sweat as I work as fast as I can…
“Derek? It’s six,” I call out as I rub the sleep from my eyes. My phone is gripped in my other hand, the list of questions and extra information I have for him written on an app.
I half-hope he’s not up yet so I can go back to sleep, a delicious dream still lingering on the edges of my mind. I could’ve sworn I could actually feel Khalid’s arms around me a few minutes before my alarm went off. And before that, his tongue, his fingers, the tip of his hard cock…
My pussy clenches, a wetness slides down my thighs, and I turn to look longingly at my bedroom door.
But I need to learn quickly about this new world if I’m going to have any hope of survival.
Forcing down my arousal, I take another step towards the living room. A chill runs down my spine when I drop my hand from my eyes.
There aren’t any lights on, but the soft rays of coming dawn peek through the blinds and curtains. It’s enough for me to see the flipped over table.
Why didn’t I hear anything?
My chest squeezing, I don’t dare breathe as my feet root to the floor. The smell of blood suddenlypermeates the fog of sleep, and my eyes widen as they dart around the part of the living room I can see from the hall. There’s so many stains and new bits I can’t make out – but the place was cleaned immaculately when I last saw it.
The gun room is just a few doors behind me, and it screams like a beacon for me to run towards it. I start to turn, but as I do, I catch sight of a mirror on the living room wall, and in its reflection, I see Derek.
