Page 2 of Signed in Blood

He’ll leave me limp and sated and well-fucked.

He’ll leave me loved.

He’s like a drug.

He helps me forget.

And yet, I know in the marrow of my bones, he’s going to give me every bit of the revenge I need to feel at peace. A reminder of what’s to come. The heat of the flames caresses my clit and makes my head fall back into the silk sheets. It’s magic.

His magic.

I’m not in danger of being burned, and yet, he plays with the fire along my skin. It’s decadent foreplay and I’m addicted to it.

“Tell me something first, Lilith,” he whispers at the shell of my ear as my heart races and goosebumps flow down my neck and then lower to my chest. “Tell me how much you want me.” His demand in that husky tone makes me weak in the knees.

“I need you,” I rasp against his mouth, looking into his eyes as the desperate words slip from my lips. “It’s not even a want anymore; I fucking need you,” I add with every bit of sincerity in my tone. “I want you more than…” I stop myself from finishing.

More than revenge.

Maybe that is the point of all this, him owning not only my soul, but my heart. I want to pretend it is, live in that as I seek my vengeance on the men who stole my life, as the demon in my arms continues to fuck me into hell.

My heart skips a beat at the mere thought while cool sweat coats the back of my neck and the memories stalk my mind.

“Please.” I beg him in a single word as the past flashes before my eyes, dragging me back to the day I lost my future.

“Look at me!” he demands in a vicious command. Fear grips me for only a second until he smirks down at me. “You are mine.” Ever so gently, he cups my chin, making me look at him. My eyes close as his soft lips mold to mine. “All you are is mine; let me remind you of that.” His tone is laced with nothing but possession.

And then he does the one thing that makes me forget it all…

* * *

He fucks me back to life.

Chapter One

Lilith

* * *

Present Day, Before Death

* * *

The snowflakes have turned to only small specks, although my breath still fogs in front of my face as we hustle down the sidewalk. I’ve never been a fan of the cold. It makes me tired, and all I want is to stay warm indoors. With a black scarf tightly wrapped around my neck, a thick cream colored sweater, and a heavy puffer coat, I'm mostly warm. The tip of my nose, I’m sure, is pink—if not bright red—and would disagree with the idea that I’m warm.

At least I remembered my wool beanie this time.

“I hate this parking lot,” Sabrina mutters as her boots crunch in the snow and we reach her SUV in the nearly pitch-black night. There are four streetlights on each side of the small parking lot, but three are out and the last one flickers through the breeze.

I wish we hadn’t signed up for this night class, but it was the only time Magic and Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe was offered this semester. And given I have to take a history class, this was the only one that sounded interesting enough to keep my attention with historical witch trials, magic, and social change.

Class just started for the winter semester, and I’m already over the parking situation.

Massachusetts is cold as fuck in January. If Sabrina hadn’t been dead set on Salem University, I never would have chosen a school this far north. I’m still undecided on my degree and Sabrina is a biology major. I truly have no idea what I’m going to do with my life and I’ve thought about it often.

Standing at the passenger door, I breathe into my gloved hands.

“Come on, babe,” I whine as she digs in her purse; her pink backpack covered in colorful iron-on patches hangs from her one shoulder before falling to the crook of her arm.