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Mitchell’s mouth falls open. “How…?”
Oliver shrugs. “I may not have used my magic for the last ten years, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t studied it. Madison West has taught me a lot.”
Mitchell blinks. “You’ve been apprenticing withMadison West?”
That’s not the first time I’ve seen someone react to Director West’s name like that. Oliver’s sister Elle seemed starstruck by the woman. I’ll have to ask Oliver about that, because as far as I know, Oliver is a lot more powerful than Director West, magically speaking.
Oliver doesn’t expand on his training. “Nora, call Director West, tell her where we are and that we’ve detained Devon Mitchell for trying to kill us.”
As I pull out my phone, Mitchell says, “I only tried to killyou.” He points his cuffed hands at me and gives me a leer that makes my skin crawl. “She’swanted alive.”
That’s disturbing. I turn to him, phone call forgotten. “What do you mean? Who wants me alive?”
Mitchell sneers. “As if I’d tell you anything, bitch.”
Oliver grabs Mitchell by the throat, saying something I don’t hear because my power rushes to the surface and I grab the man’s will. “Tell me who you’re working for!”
Mitchell blinks slowly and stares at me with awe. “I don’t know,” he answers. “The listing is anonymous.”
Oliver whirls around, gripping my arms. “Nora! You can’t use your power. Remember what Giselle said.”
I shake myself free of my power’s trance. I hadn’t even meant to use it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
With Oliver’s back turned to Mitchell and neither of us paying him any attention, Mitchell suddenly rushes forward and slams into Oliver’s back. Oliver cries out and falls to the ground. Mitchell leans over him, gloating and holding a large, bloody knife. “Damn, that felt good.”
I scream when I realize Oliver’s just been stabbed in the back. Mitchell smiles at me. I know he can’t touch me with magic thanks to the spell Oliver cast, but that doesn’t matter. I reach out and grab his will. “Freeze.”
He does.
I should ask him more questions. Find out what he knows. And I should be getting Oliver help, but I’m so angry I can’t think. My power swirls around inside me, twisting my thoughts. This man hurt Oliver. He doesn’t deserve to live. And he’s nothing compared to my power. Insignificant. It would be so easy to end him. To make him mine. To devour his soul.
My power—the darkness inside me—pulses through my body, singing to me like my own personal siren’s song. My eyes lock onto Mitchell, and suddenly I have tunnel vision. He is mine. Or, he will be as soon as I take him. “Come,” I whisper.
Mitchell blinks slowly and then steps over Oliver and stops an arm’s length away. “Mine,” I say. Because he is mine. I own him.
“Yes. I am yours forever.” Mitchell nods, his eyes glazed over. He’s lost to my thrall.
It feels good to have him in my clutches. It’s powerful. Freeing. I can do whatever I want. I can claim whomever I want. Men will fall at my feet. Worship me until their last breaths. They can all be mine.
I lift my hand and place my fingers over his heart. We both suck in a breath when I touch him. I can feel his heart. Not the physical beating organ, but his life force. His spiritual being. His soul. I can feel it pulsing, and I have to have it, so I pull. Using my dark allure, I suck the energy out of his heart and devour every last bit of it. The more of his soul I consume, the more my body buzzes with energy. I feel his essence, and my mouth waters. I must have every last bit of it. I pull and I pull, until I’ve consumed every last drop of his soul. And when I’ve taken all of his life force, his body collapses. Falls lifeless to the ground.
With the temptation now gone and the darkness sated, I come back to myself. I scream, horrified by what I’ve done. I know without having to check that Mitchell is dead. I remember everything from when the siren’s power had hold of me. I killed him. I consumed his soul. I’m a monster. My stomach churns, and I turn around, fall to my knees, and throw up all over the parking lot.
It’s not until I finish heaving that I remember Oliver. I rush over to him and check for a pulse. A sob of relief bursts from me when I feel the faint thump of his heartbeat. “Hang on, Ollie. Don’t die on me.”
Fiercely sobbing and with shaking hands, I make a phone call. When the soft voice on the other end picks up, I cry even harder. “Enzo?” I sob.
Enzo’s voice sharpens with concern. “Miss Nora?”
“Oliver’s been stabbed! I think he’s dying!”
Enzo gasps. He works for the FUA as their on-call healer. He knows Oliver well. I’m sure he feels this news on a personal level. It takes him a second to respond, and when he does his voice is hard, possibly for the first time in his life. “Where is he?”
“Do you know where Wulf Winters lives? His warehouse?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Keep pressure on his wound.”
He hangs up, and I feel his loss. I need his strength—his quiet confidence and calm reassurance that everything will be okay. I can’t lose Oliver. Ican’t. I wouldn’t survive it.
