Page 53 of Wicked Curses
And when it did, the thing would come.
* * *
Orin frownedas he watched Sahira slog up the stairs to her room. Her shoulders hunched forward, and her hair, while still in a bun, had fallen to her nape; strands had straggled free to frame her face.
If he hadn’t known better, he might have assumed she was rolling around on the library floor with someone, but that wasn’t his little witch’s style, and he didn’t smell sex on her. Besides, the dark shadows under her eyes and the exhaustion she emanated were most likely the reasons for her disheveled appearance.
Was there really something in her room the other night?
The two of them hadn’t spoken since her unexpected arrival in his room, something he would have to remedy soon as his hunger grew. He’d been trying to give her space, but couldn’t let this drag on much longer.
At the other end of the bar, Carmella laughed at something the lycan leaning toward her said. Boris, Belda’s beta, had his hand on the bar while he spoke. His blond hair fell to his shoulders, and when he lifted his head, the light from the windows shone off his brown eyes. Orin suspected the lycan’s interest in Carmella was purely physical, as she wasn’t interesting to talk to.
A dwarf huffed and puffed as it clambered onto one of the stools. “Whiskey, and keep them coming,” the dwarf said.
Like all other dwarves, his accent resembled the humans’ English accents. Orin grabbed the bottle and set it on the bar as Sahira closed the door to her room.
He didn’t know what was happening with the witch, but he’d have to fix it soon. Because not only was he growing increasingly ravenous, but so was she, which wasn’t good for either of them.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Sahira cast a strongerprotective spell around her room. It could keep out anything, and if something managed to slip past, a horrible shrieking noise would alert her to an intruder.
It didn’t work.
Instead, what alerted her to the presence of an intruder was fingers clamping around her throat, digging down, and choking off her air supply. She woke in a frenzy of flailing arms and legs as she gasped for air.
When she swung her hand at her attacker, it came up against nothing. The dim radiance of the candle on her nightstand revealed the shadowy figure hovering over her, but there were no other details, and it was difficult to make out much about the figure as lack of air caused her vision to blur and darken.
Whatever this shadowy thing was, it shouldn’t have such strength. The shadows Cole controlled could do this and far worse, but this creature wasn’t like them. She’d already be dead if it was.
Sahira flopped on the bed as she sought to break free, and this time, when she swung out, she connected with something solid. Shadows didn’t entirely make up this thing; they appeared to be, but it was somethingmore.
And she had to break free before she passed out and this thing slaughtered her. Throwing herself to the side, she yanked herself from its formidable hold. Her forehead and right arm crashed off the nightstand before she tumbled to the ground.
A groan escaped, her head pounded, and a knot formed on her forehead as the room spun. Her brutalized throat burned while she wheezed in air as she forgot about the unconsciousness trying to take her under.
She started to rise when something pounced on her back, propelling her into the floor as hands, or whatever they were, encircled her throat. Rearing back, she tried to buck it off, but the thing clung to her like a burr to clothing.
Struggling to remain conscious while seeking to break free again, she fumbled for her bed and the dagger tucked beneath her pillow. When her fingers enclosed on the cool metal, she yanked it free as a crash reverberated around the room and shook the floor beneath her.
* * *
At first,when the noises from the witch’s room stirred him from sleep, Orin cursed her for being so loud. But then, as he lay there listening to the ensuing silence, he began questioning if something was wrong.
He waited for the scrape of furniture as she moved it back into place, but there was nothing. Lifting his head off the pillow, he listened while telling himself to go back to sleep.
He had no idea what time it was but was certain he hadn’t fallen asleep long ago. It had been another busy night at the pub; it had taken a lot of prodding to get the immortals to leave, but they finally did.
And he’d just gotten to sleep only to be woken by the woman who would like nothing more than to cut off his nuts. He started to turn over to go back to sleep but couldn’t.
Tossing aside his blanket, he swung his legs out of bed and rose. He didn’t care about his nudity; it never fazed him.
Besides, if she was going to be rude enough to wake him, then she would have to deal with seeing him naked again. It would serve as another reminder of what she was missing.
He left his room and walked to her door. Orin was about to knock, but the scratching, fumbling sounds from within stopped him.
Frowning, he stared at the door before leaning closer so his ear nearly touched it. He had no idea what was happening in there, but it wasn’t good. He couldn’t announce his presence to whatever lay within by knocking.
