Page 100 of Wicked Curses
Taking a tremulous breath, Sahira dropped her hands and studied the sputtering flame of the nearly burned-out candle before planting her palms on the mattress and pushing herself up. With jerky movements, she gathered her clothes.
She was acutely aware Orin’s were already gone. He hadn’t bothered to wake her before leaving, but she hadn’t expected anything else.
So then why did it hurt?
She had no answer. None of it made any sense to her—none of it.
When she finished tugging on the remnants of her clothes, she hauled her mattress and the candle upstairs. Once she had everything above, she slid the stairway cover back into place, set a protection spell over it, and cautiously approached the shutters.
Resting her hand against the metal, she leaned forward to place her eye on the small hole in the center. She didn’t hear the beetles bouncing off the walls anymore, and the light outside indicated it had been about twenty-four hours since The Reaping started, but she still held her breath.
When she spotted immortals walking the street, she lifted the bar. She swung open the shutters, rested her hands on the sill, and leaned out to examine the town.
Immortals hurried back and forth, carrying supplies and debris. A fire burned in the pit; it grew bigger with every piece of broken lumber and furniture tossed onto the pile.
The immortals also carried and threw the remains of the dead beetles onto the fire. Their shells cracked and popped as the flames devoured them, and sparks flew.
She shivered at the reminder of what those things could do and stepped away from the window. She went to close the shutters again but stopped; they had at least a couple of weeks before the new year started, and a possible return of the beetles, so it was safe to leave them open. This room needed some fresh air, and so did she.
Sahira had no idea where Orin was and wouldn’t look for him. Gathering some fresh clothes, she headed for the door.
A shower, where she could scrub Orin’s scent from her, would help her feel a lot better. The idea of removing the evidence of what passed between them caused inexplicable sadness to creep through her, but it had to happen.
No, she wouldnotdo this. She would shower and get to work. There was plenty to do out there; the library would be a mess, and she had to earn extra supplies to get out of here.
It was time she got as far from this town as possible.
CHAPTERSEVENTY-FOUR
The stars had startedto pierce through the thick velvet night when Sahira left the library with Elsa. They’d spent the entire day in there with Gromuck and Elsa as they pieced the place back together.
The beetles had unleashed a ton of devastation on the books and building. Not to mention, they’d left behind a bloodbath no amount of water and scrubbing could remove from the wood and pages.
It would take weeks for them to get everything fixed and cleaned, but they’d made a good start today. They’d done what they could to salvage the books the beetles destroyed.
She and Elsa had worked to repair the broken spines, torn pages, and trampled covers. They still had a giant pile to go through, but they’d saved all those they worked on today.
Sahira was glad to see Elsa had survived the beetles’ attack, and the witch had hugged her when she walked through the door. “I thought we’d lost you.”
Astonished by the woman’s warmth, it took Sahira a second to respond, but then she’d hugged her back. Elsa had no way of knowing how much Sahira needed that hug.
Many of those from the library didn’t reach the stable, but Gromuck, Elsa, the pixies, and a few others got there. When they arrived, Zeth let them in.
She was also glad to learn the demon had survived. He’d come by the library earlier to check on her, and she’d assured him she was great, even if she wasn’t.
But she’d survived when many others hadn’t; their skulls, littering the town, were a stark reminder of that. And each of them had a hole in the center.
She’d come so close to being one of those skulls. Apparently, they were the only things a scarog beetle didn’t eat. They were all buried during the day, but the memory of walking through town this morning and seeing all those picked-clean skulls made her skin crawl.
That could have been her if Orin hadn’t helped her. She tried not to think about him, but the annoying man had a way of creeping back into her thoughts.
She was alive, fed, and should have been ecstatic, even if she’d had an incrediblybadmoment of weakness last night. The more time passed, the more she kicked herself in the ass for giving in to Orin, but Zeth didn’t have to know that.
And once he left, she had only her memories and work to keep her occupied. Her thoughts were determined to drive her insane as they kept returning to Orin and what passed between them. She couldn’t stop recalling how his body moved, how his arms felt around her, and the false sense of security she’d experienced while with him.
Yes, he was strong and had saved her, but in many ways, he was as treacherous as the scarog beetles. And just as dangerous to her.
She’d known that and still chose to have sex with him. She couldn’t blame it on out-of-control bloodlust either; she’d experienced it before—granted, not with the same intensity as last night—but she’d never given in to it.
