Page 3 of Corrupt Shadows

I can sense the ghosts here, watching us from the shadowy entryway to the corridor. The light fixture above creaks as gusts of wind slip through the cracks in the windowpanes.

“You’re breathtaking,” Jay whispers, then buries his face in my neck. His lips travel kisses along my collarbone, and a sliver of desire quickly pulses in my chest but fades just as fast.

I long to feel something. It’s why I come to the abandoned asylum on the edge of town. The violent energy left behind by the lost souls of cannibals and murderers writhes with my shadow magic, enhancing every touch.

My gaze travels behind Jay. There’s a sense of us being watched, as if someone is lurking in the shadowy corners of the room. The thought sends a jolt of electricity through my body, but there’s no one there. Another flash of lightning momentarily turns the room a bright shade of blue, and I stare at the incoherent words of former patients scratched behind a broken bed frame.

Four famous serial killers have passed through this building, along with thousands of the darkest minds. From the late eighteen hundreds until thirty years ago, this was the one-stop shop for evil. When I close my eyes, I can hear their screams, as if they’re still locked in their cells. My heart pounds, and the slight jolt of fear is enough to awaken something deep inside me.

“Evie,” Jay whispers against my skin, as if it’s a declaration of love.

I wish he wouldn’t ruin this by opening that mouth of his, no matter how gorgeous it is. His eyes widen, and I repress the urge to roll mine. If it weren’t for the lightning, I wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

I’d prefer that. Blindness gives way to the imagination, my favorite place to play.

Jay stands a foot taller than me, although that isn’t a hard feat with my five-foot-one height. Most do. He’s tanned, despite the constant cloud cover, and looks as if he belongs on a beach, not in a small town where it rains for half the year.

I look down at the six-pack he obsessively trains and tracks macros to maintain, and then at his tempting V lines. I run my fingers through his sandy-blond hair, breathing in the smell of sandalwood with notes of citrus on his white tee, masking the musky, mildew scent permeating the asylum.

A bang echoes in the distance. Has someone else wandered into our spot? Liquid fire sizzles between my legs at the thought.

I’m thankful he didn’t hear, or else he’d stop. Exhibitionism isn’t a kink he entertains. He doesn’t like any of this, but he tries, for me. I stopped trying to get him to roleplay my fantasies and instead I act them out in my head.

He pauses after his next kiss on my neck, then brings his lips slowly up to meet mine. His baby blues lock onto me, and his pupils dilate, the lust brewing in them evident. “I’m so happy to have you back, Evie.”

My stomach knots, and my pussy dries up. I smile because I don’t want to hurt him, although we’re not together. It’s supposed to be just sex. That’s what we agreed. I go to kiss him, but he pulls back an inch.

My brows pull together. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not playing around this time. This isn’t just sex for me.”

I close my eyes, holding my breath so I don’t sigh. “Jay… You know I’m not ready for anything like that.”

Gods, why is it so hard to have a quickie in an abandoned asylum?

He glances to the side, and my heart skips a beat. “I see.”

“At least not right now. But I’m not seeing anyone else,” I promise because I can’t see him in pain. It’s hardly a declaration, but it’s enough.

His lips are on mine, and I dart my tongue to meet his.

Finally.

His erection presses against me through his denim pants. I unbutton mine and glance down. My nipples are hard peaks under my T-shirt from the iciness creeping in, and the black cotton under the lace grazes them with every movement.

Thoughts slide into my head, dark desires intruding on my being. I want to feel more of the darkness, to give into the energy left behind by the tortured, lost souls and let it consume me. The insanity purrs with my shadow magic. It’s buried deep within me, and sometimes I let it come to the surface just enough to feel something. Like now.

It teeters on dangerous. I know what can happen if I let it out. The death magic will come with it. Yet I can’t stop myself.

“Jay,” I say breathily and point at the gurney. “Let’s do it on that.”

He whips his head around, grimacing as we both stare at the ripped brown leather, faded from the years of neglect. He brings his head up, then looks down at me. “Are you kidding?” he asks, exasperated.

“No.”

He sighs, a sound I’ve become accustomed to since I started dragging him here to fuck two years ago, before our small hiatus. “Why do we always have to do weird shit?” He rolls his eyes but grips my ass cheeks anyway, then hoists me into his arms.

I curl my legs around his torso.

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