Page 102 of Sinful Urges


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Luke

When they come back into the restaurant, Trine looks a bit scared, and when I look at Misha, I can see that something is bothering him. His hand is on the small of her back, and he’s guiding her forward until she’s sitting in front of us. But she doesn’t say anything, and she barely picks her head up to look at us.

“We have a problem,” Misha says, sliding on the chair next to her.

“We have a lot of problems,” Rei says between gritted teeth.

“It’s Trine,” he says, looking at her. “Something…something’s wrong with her.”

Her gaze darts between us, but she says nothing.

“Salinas,” he says. “Give me your holy water.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Just give it to me,” he hisses. I grab the holy water from my pocket. It’s a small little vial, almost completely unnoticeable, and when he turns to look at her, she glares at him.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Give me your hand,” he says.

“Is this necessary?” Rei asks.

“She’s been having dreams,” Misha says. “Dreams where she sees a man and she isn’t able to get up. Dreams that only started happening after the exorcism.”

Rei swears under his breath.

“Your hand, Trine,” Misha says.

Reluctantly, she extends it.

“Wait,” he says. “Woods.”

I know what he’s going to do, so I extend my hand and spread my fingers out. He splashes the palm of my hand with a bit of water, and it doesn’t feel like anything. I know this is a show for Trine, so I make a point to rub my fingers together, getting as much on my skin as possible.

She stares, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Now your hand, Trine,” he says. She inches it closer to him, her palm facing him, and he looks up at her eyes before he says anything. I can tell that he’s holding back the urge to apologize. When he lets a bit of the liquid get on her skin, we can all hear it.

It sizzles.

It burns her.

She pulls away from him, grimacing. “Ouch,” she says. “What was that?”

“Just water,” I say. “It was just water, Trine.”

“No, it wasn’t. You put something in that.”

Misha grabs the vial of water and pours it over his own palm. “No,” he says. “It’s just water. Father?”

I roll my eyes, but I give him my hand too. He empties the vial on my palm, and the water stays on the lines between my skin. “It doesn’t hurt,” I say. “I can’t feel anything. Try to wipe it off me, okay?”

Trine grimaces, but she inches forward, about to do what she’s told. She swipes her fingertips over the palm of my hand, and I hear a sizzle as I feel electricity from her skin.

She grimaces, pulling her hand away. “You really didn’t feel that?”

I shake my head. “I don’t feel anything,” I say. “All I feel is the touch of your skin and water.”

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