Page 48 of Corrupt Shadows
She places her hand on her hip. “So since we both know you lied about work to get out of there, are you going to tell me what happened?”
I close my eyes, my heart racing as I finish half my cigarette. “I’m not sure,” I admit croakily. “He’s in my head, I think. It’s like oppression but stronger.”
She arches a dark brow.
“You know, it’s before a demon possesses a person,” I explain. “They heighten any emotions that can be used, like anger, lust, or fear. It’s why we rarely hear of possessions happening to anyone who’s really strong-willed.”
“You are strong-willed. I’m tired of this. I’m getting us some real help.”
I finish my cigarette and grab another, hoping to distract myself from the guilt from Jay’s death tearing me apart. I can’t explain the truth to Rosa because I don’t understand it myself. Demons can fuck with a person’s psyche, and oppression takes months or years. But Lorcan is already so far embedded into my soul, it’s uncomfortable… yet invigorating.
I turn on my heels as tingling pricks the back of my neck. Rosa taps her nails against her phone as she searches for an exorcist or something, which won’t help.
There you are.
My eyes lock onto the floor-length mirror leaning against the living-room wall, washed in a light glow of a nearby lamp. I feel him watching, then his form fills the mirror as he shows himself to me. I jump, and the cigarette flies from my fingers, showering sparks of embers over the concrete ground.
“What happened?” Rosa asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. She moves around me and gasps, closing her fingers over her lips.
“Get rid of her, or I will.” His intrusive stare bores into me.
“Hurt her and I’ll find a way to kill you,” I say in my head, hoping he can somehow hear me. First Jay, then Rosa. This has gone too fucking far.
He looks me up and down, as if undressing me with his eyes. “Think about killing yourself again, and I’ll tear her apart in front of you.”
My gaze narrows. So he can hear me. “Don’t hurt Rosa.”
“Obey me and I will not hurt her.”
His veins bulge when he flexes his fingers, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to have them around my throat, pressed against the wall with little breath in my lungs.
He smirks, as if sensing the arousal heating between my legs.
“Thinking about me, little killer?”
I suck in a breath. “What do you want?”
His eyes darken, and his voice slices through my mind. “I want every bloodthirsty, vengeful part of you. Embrace the real you, and I’ll take you into the darkness you crave. Show me those shadows, little witch.”
TWENTY-ONE
Lorcan
The mirrors at The Ugly Pancake annoy the fuck out of me. Every single one of them is covered in a greasy residue. What little cleaning the employees do only streaks the substance around until there’s a permanent haze.
I watch Evie from behind the restroom mirror as she applies a shade of red lipstick to her pouty lips, practically begging me to smear it with my cock. As she does, her chestnut eyes burn with challenge. The game is on, little witch.
I cross her mind as she looks at her reflection, uncertain if I’m watching or not. Her lingering thoughts about me only make our bond stronger. I can feel it strengthening, linking us together permanently. Eventually, her apartment won’t be the only place in the Human Realm I can physically step into.
Bruise-like smudges darken the delicate skin under her eyes. Her skin, which not long ago reflected the glow of her magic, is sallow and dull. Her hands tremble as she caps the tube of lipstick.
I bite my lip to stop the grin from taking over my face. Her body continues to weaken as the benzodiazepine withdraws from her system. Good. Now she can stop poisoning herself, and her magic will come out to play.
My cock jerks when I recall her pale skin splattered with blood—and the squelch of the carpet, saturated in gore beneath us, as I sank my shadows into her dripping cunt. My little witch deserves to suffer. I hope she relives our joining over and over, letting shame and guilt eat away at her for the pleasure her body received by her lover’s corpse.
Evie rests her hands on the edge of the sink and hangs her head. She’s not handling her shit, and it shows. If she would just use her magic, she would feel a million times better.
Soon Evie will not be able to contain her darkness. I’ll make sure of it.