She closes the drapes, the rings clinking against the poles, and draws a rune circle on the smooth, industrial concrete floor. The pattern looks different from the ones she used for the séance, and the fistful of herbs she gathers from her suitcase smells of vinegar and mulch.
She sets candles around herself and fumbles with the match.
“Bloody hells,” she mutters, struggling to light the first one. The match burns out in a flare of ash. She reaches for another, but the candles all ignite at once, drawing a synchronized gasp from both of us.
“What is this spell for?” I choke.
Her green irises gleam with a yellow rim, deepening to a rich amber that pulses until it nearly glows. “It’s a cleansing ritual. To rid the house of dark spirits.”
“You want to get rid of me that badly?” I taunt her. “Just tell me you feel nothing for me and mean it.”
She slices her palm open, blood spilling down her fingers as she paints over the runes. “Dark One, heed my prayers.”
“Max, don’t do this,” I plead.
“By flame and salt, this house is cleansed.
Let every darkened spirit depart.
Guide wandering souls beyond these walls,
And grant them rest within your dark.”
The candles flare, their flames stretching several inches high before snuffing out at once. Smoke coils from the wicks, sulphur, and vaporized wax thickening the air. The drapes shudder to an unnatural breeze. Blood sinks into the floor, vanishing as if lapped clean by some dark, all-consuming presence.
But I’m still here.
I can’t bear the disappointment in her eyes when I tell her it didn’t work, so I retreat to the corner of the room and hide in the shadows, holding unto my bite of power.
“Are you still here? Tell me if you’re still here,” she says, her voice trembling between the sharp edge of command and the soft, desperate hush of a plea.
I can’t bring myself to answer.
If she wants me gone, then I’m gone. I’ll crawl back into the void and let myself fade, but not before I chase that wretched man out of her life. My parting gift. She deserves to be loved for who she is, and if not by me, maybe someone better will come along.
My hands tremble at the thought of leaving her forever.
She’s yours. Make her see that.
The devil I used to be rises from the forsaken corners of my amnesic brain. I kind of like how he thinks. I’m still deciding if I’m wicked enough to haunt the woman I love against her wishes when her demeanor changes.
Her arms fall limp at her sides, the anger draining from her face. Tears well and spill, forming shimmering trails on her flushed cheeks. Her eyes are green again.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
Those tears are for me because she thinks she cast me back into the void. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.Don’t cry for me, little fox. I’m here, I want to say. But I don’t reveal myself—not yet.
I need her to miss me first.
Chapter 16
Death Kink
MAX
The bridal shop smells of perfume and tears. I stand barefoot on the pedestal, my heavy, multilayered wedding dress rooting me in place.
I needed to see myself in the dress, to see if I could leave my old life behind and abandon the disguise of Maxine, the orphaned med student, forever.
