Chapter 6 #4
He shakes his head. “Not on their own. But they might have help, which is why we need to keep an eye on them.”
He briefly looks at his phone, checking the time. “We should go. I have to get back to the office for a bit.”
We get up and step outside, where he pulls me against him. “I’ll see you back home,” he says, then presses a kiss against my lips, which I eagerly return. “You do things to me, Elly.” He sighs against my cheek, and I feel myself blush slightly.
Malakai lets go of me, and before I know it, we’re walking away in different directions.
I wander back toward the house, but my feet have other plans. Distracted, I only notice when I find myself in front of a different house—the family whose curse I activated. A frown forms on my face, confusion settling in as I wonder why I’m here.
“How did you know them?” Next to me stands an old lady, shopping bag in hand.
“What makes you think I did?” I ask, trying not to show the tinge of discomfort at her question.
“The look in your eyes.”
My frown deepens, and I bite my lip, contemplating my next words. “I’m an old friend of the family.”
“What happened to him? After—”
She sighs, shaking her head slightly. “He went insane with grief and killed himself just the other day.”
Though it shouldn’t come as a surprise, hearing her say it like that makes me stop breathing for a second.
My skin tingles, and a strange coldness washes over me.
It’s only been a handful of days since the curse was activated.
Everything is happening faster than I anticipated.
I wonder if it will always be like this.
I wet my lips, not looking at the woman. “Thank you,” I tell her, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
She nods, clutches the bag closer, and turns away.
I walk away, an unpleasant chuckle escaping me.
The curse is doing what it needs to do, but it leaves me with a dull feeling in my chest. This is what I wanted, yet it doesn’t completely make me feel the way I thought it would.
My fingers flex, then curl into fists as I walk, trying to comprehend what I’m feeling.
It’s all mixed up, and I’m not sure if I should be laughing, crying, or feeling something else completely.
On the other hand, I also feel... conflicted. I thought I was fine with being a villain, but now I’m back out here, and I’m suddenly not so sure anymore. Even if I can’t deny I like it, part of me knows it’s wrong, and I don’t know what to do with that.
I’m opening the front door when an image of sharp canines flashes through my mind.
Startled, I look around, goosebumps breaking out all over my skin as I feel watched, but I can’t spot anything out of the ordinary.
Yet I find myself unable to shake the feeling someone is lurking just behind the tree line.
Those green eyes might come to haunt my nightmares.
The thought has a rush of cold going through my body. What if they already did? My chest constricts as I fight to let go of the image of that pale face watching me sleep, looking at me with such intensity it leaks into my dreams, forever following me, no matter where I go.
Darkness crowds the corners of my eyes as panic rises from deep inside me until my magic sparks against my skin and violently snaps me out of what was starting to become a downward spiral. My hand trembles when I open the door, a breath straining to escape.
Once inside, I lock the door behind me and grab my phone.
I pull up Malakai’s number and message him to check the wards when he returns.
If there’s anything out there, I want it gone—ASAP.
I’m confident in my magic and my ability to defend myself, but this feels…
different. Depending on Malakai is something I’d rather avoid at all costs, but right now, I have the worst feeling, and sometimes it’s better to be safe than sorry.
In an attempt to clear my head, I head to the bathroom and run a bath, adding a relaxation spell to the water.
As soon as I sink into the hot water, the last bits of panic drift away.
A sigh leaves me. I lean back and close my eyes, allowing my mind to wander.
And wander it does, not to where I want it to.
Nevertheless, I find myself unable to stop it.
Back to the park, to my fingers in the grass, the wind in my hair.
The utter silence, the bliss of my magic stretching around me.
Despite the peacefulness, a shadow manages to creep into my thoughts, burrowing inside my head.
A feeling of dread and an all-encompassing nothingness overtakes everything, muffling a conscious part of myself until it’s everywhere.
It steals my breath away, lingering on my lips like poison.
Teeth prick at my neck, soft yet deadly, as I stir.
As suddenly as it takes over, it’s gone again. I gasp, my eyes fly open, and my fingers touch the spot on my neck where I felt that sting. There’s nothing there. The only thing remaining is a soft touch on my lips.
That lingering feeling of dread drives me insane.
It makes me jumpy, unable to settle down.
Come nightfall, Malakai has yet to return, and I can’t take it anymore.
I need to go outside. Then I wrap myself in a long cloak and step out.
While I’m locking the front door, one of our neighbors from the house on the left steps out as well.
She’s beautiful. A slender frame, eyes as dark as night, pale skin almost white, and light dusty blonde hair. Beyond her beauty, I sense she’s a predator, which makes her as terrifying as she is gorgeous. Fierce, deadly, but most of all, eternal—as if she has been walking this earth for eons.
She gives me a small curtsy, which I return, and then she walks away. Her light step almost makes it seem as if she’s floating. I stare at her back until she disappears into the darkness.
It takes me a few seconds to remember what I’m doing, jolting me out of my thoughts.
Shaking my head, I continue to the park, a chill running through me as I walk through it and return to the same bench once more.
Thankfully, I see no one and feel no presence.
The feeling of dread shifts into paranoia; this feeling of eyes on my back makes my skin crawl.
I know I could ask Malakai about it, but I hesitate.
I refuse to go back to being the meek, powerless person I was in my previous life, letting everyone walk over her until she got tossed aside, traded for something better.
Asking for help, relying on someone else like this, feels like I’m slipping back into old habits.
A groan escapes me, and my magic deflates when I realize I don’t know when or why I started to think this way. Why do I care if he thinks I can or can’t handle something like this? When did his opinion about this—or anything—start to matter to me?
My groan turns into a sigh as I bury my face in my hands, feeling defeated because I don’t know what to do with any of this.
Hating him was so much easier than whatever this is.