Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
The thing reformed to attack.
Whenever the skeletons swung their scythes, Poppy parried with beams—but they were too fast.
Rök flung himself to the side, just avoiding a strike. The skeleton lost its balance and tumbled skull-first into the abyss. Whoosh!
Five left.
Rök repeated the move, tricking another skeleton into the pit. Four. Between Poppy’s defensive beams and his maneuvering, they took out three more. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh!
One left. The demon rocked across the oubliette and yanked his last foe by its ankle bones, sending it bouncing against the sides of the opening. The suction devoured the final skeleton. Whoosh!
Enemy defeated.
When Rök rolled to safety, Poppy hastened over, unable to disguise her relief.
Ember and mist filled her senses as he gazed up at her, his eyes glowing even more. Color flushed his cheekbones and his lips curved, tempering his demonic visage. “Are we in the clear?”
She probed the activity of her curse and breathlessly said, “For a bit.” Hecate help her, Poppy’s desire for him was only growing worse.
Did she want Rök so badly that she would join his rotation of swimbos? Maybe she wasn’t as self-respecting as she’d thought. Maybe she was weak where he was concerned.
These fears haunted her as much as her visitors.
When he’d called her the day after their debacle of a date, he’d given no explanation, just asked for a makeup, promising the best steak in all the worlds. So she’d agreed to meet on Halloween, a night when she’d known nothing could tempt her to go, not even Rök. . . .
His grin deepened as he easily made it to his feet. “Look at that worry for me.” He brushed his hands off, all cockiness, and not a scratch on him.
Her lips parted as realization hit. “You were never in jeopardy.”
“Not even a bit.”
“You were playing with them?”
Gleeful nod. “Still consider me mediocre? You actually thought you were riding in to save the day. To save me, a demon warrior, from skeletons!”
Her eyes went wide, her face growing hot. “I wasted a pouch on you!”
In a patronizing tone, he said, “Let’s consider that magic well spent. I proved my mettle, and I also got a glimpse into your feelings. You do give a damn about me.”
“Or maybe I didn’t want to feel guilt when my curse killed you.”
A flash of doubt crossed his expression. Then his easy smile returned. “Nah. You like me.” He reached for her. “This demon’s still in the game. Consider your ass mine.”
She shoved him into the oubliette.
Whoosh!
SIX
Rök’s claws scrabbled along the edge of the hole as he fought the ungodsly suction.
Something I said?
By the time he’d powered his way out, the witch had left him without a glance back. He heard the light tap of her boots as she climbed the stairs.
She knew I could get out of there. Surely, she knew.
He jogged up the steps after her. Okay, maybe he could have been cooler in the moment, but when he’d seen her eyes brimming with concern for him, an uncontrollable thrill had seized him. “Wait up,” he called.
Shoulders tense, she strode back in the direction of the foyer.
He followed her out into the spottily lit entryway. “What gives?”
She turned to him with shimmering hands. “You let me waste a pouch on you! Each one takes a day to prepare, and now it will fizzle away to nothing.” The light from her palms intensified. “Unless I use it.”
“Ah, but you wouldn’t, because I’m growing on y—”
Her blast sent him tumbling down the hall. “The hell, witch!” He scrambled to his feet, then loped back to her. “You’re out-of-bounds.”
“Because it’s all a game? Tonight might be a joke to you—a bit of seduction for fun—but this is my life! Now I’m down a pouch with hours left to go.”
“You’re here to break the curse, aren’t you? I can’t imagine you’d take bullshit like this lying down.”
Her chin rose a notch. Unwilling concession.
“Why here? Did this wizard hex you?” Rök’s fangs sharpened again.
“No, he died before the curse struck. But something in this castle is supposed to help me.”
“How do you know?”
Exhaling, she lowered her hands, her pique dwindling. He’d learned this witch had a fiery temper, but the storms were quick to pass. “I went to Mariketa the Awaited last week. She tried to sense how to break the curse and came up with one instruction: go to this castle on this night, a lone witch, to find my answer.”
“That’s it? Fortune cookies say more!”
Poppy sighed and gave him a look: You’re not wrong.
“Can’t you get some other Wiccan to help you?”
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything.”
“If you found out who did this to you, couldn’t you force them to lift it?”
“If. If only. We’ve found no trace of whoever did this.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I first saw a visitor for only an instant. Now they come sunset to sunrise on Halloween, getting stronger and stronger. Soon, they’ll start to bleed over into other days. I’ve plotted the trajectory of visits; eventually the nightmares will be constant, and I’ll be insane.” She gazed up at him. “Or worse. Rök, what if they stay embodied outside the castle? I sense they will. They’ve got a real taste for it now.”