Page 74 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
"I've kept stew in many pots." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "But even I have limits."
A gaunt cheek pressed against mine, and I could feel his bones under the thin blanket of his skin. He was starving. All of them were starving. And I had a pot of stew. "Would you share my lunch with me?"
"No, no, listen to me. It is different this time, my love. The entire town, aside from me, is chanting for your blood. Please take my words into your bosom and flee. There is a place in the woods to the north. If you leave now, you can make it before dark. The whole town is coming."
"Chanting? The town is chanting?"
"Monk has a book. They are chanting a prayer to weaken you because they say you are a witch."
Pulling back, I peered at him shrewdly. "You're sure?"
He nodded, his eyes pleading with me. "Listen. You can hear them coming."
He spoke the truth. The sounds of a crowd in the distance were already audible and the first pangs of fear rocked through me. "Enrique, we are betrothed, yes?"
"Yes."
"And you intend to give yourself to me, body and soul?"
"Of course."
"Will you pledge your life to me now? Bind your soul to me, whate'er may come, we will be together into eternity?"
With both hands, he cradled my face. "Yes. I love you, Isabella. For eternity."
Locked deep within his gaze, I reached into my pocket. I'd made the ointment for an emergency such as this. Still, I hesitated. I cared for Enrique, and if the spell came to pass, he'd be cursed by my hand. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Between us, I opened the tiny jar. Under the lid was a razor sharp barb. I captured one of his hands from my cheek, and positioned it palm up, then jabbed the barb into his finger.
He gasped. "What are you doing?"
"Binding us for eternity."
He did not argue, just searched my face with the trust of a child.
I watched his ruby red gift drip into the balm, then plucked my own skin. My darker, older blood oozed over his. Mixing the concoction with my finger, I commanded him. "Unbutton your shirt."
"Isabella, there is no time."
On my tiptoes, I planted a brazen kiss on his lips, snaking my tongue into his mouth, all passion and wet heat. Rick responded with the inexperienced lips of a virgin and another shiver of guilt passed through me.
He unbuttoned his shirt.
I found the place over his heart, yet unscarred, and drew a scythe with the gooey paste. In the old language, I spoke the spell.
"In the name of my mother
Goddess of night
I bind thee, my vessel,
Caretaker of light
Willingly given
Sacrifice thine
Human no longer
