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I can’t let him.
What else can I do?
The window, I think. Spinning away from him, my skirt whirling around my knees, I dart for the window.
I don’t know why it seems so important for me to look outside of it. It’s already obvious he brought me somewhere. Picked me up like a sack of potatoes and jumped into a swirling black void in the middle of my room and now we’re here.
Only one problem: where ishere?
The window doesn’t help. It’s a thicker type of glass than I’ve ever seen before, with no way to open it, and at first I’m almost sure it’s been blacked out. That’s how dark it is outside. I see nothing except shadows upon shadows until a pair of glowing eyes appears in the distance.
White, just like the monster’s. It’s low on the ground, so I don’t think it’s another one of him, but it’s something. Something just like him, and nothing like I’ve ever seen back in New York.
Back onEarth.
A knot forms in my stomach as I land on the easy conclusion: I’m not on Earth anymore, am I?
My throat is raw from my scream, my voice shaky as I demand, “Where am I? Where did you take me?”
“Uxor mi—”
Nope. Not that again.
“Take me back,” I tell him. Doesn’t matter that I know he doesn’t understand English. I try anyway. I wave my arm in a circle, miming the portal that brought us here. “Bring me home.”
Between my gesture and my tone, it should be easy for him to figure out what I want. However, before he has to come up with a way to refuse—because, believe me, I know that’s coming—the most awkward thing happens.
My stomach grumbles loud enough that we both hear it.
His forehead creases. He works his jaw, like he’s trying to figure out what to say but can’t come up with the words. As panic crests over me, my breath coming short and fast, he stands the rest of the way up.
Holy hell, he’s big. Was he this big back in Jericho? Was he this big when I let him push that monster dick inside of me?
Considering how tender and achy I’m feeling, yes. Yes, he was.
With a firm look on his shadowed face, he gestures for me to stay where I am.
Right, I think a touch hysterically. Because where else am I going to go?
* * *
I misseda door on my earlier inspection. The seam is so close to the wall that it’s hidden where the light doesn’t reach. Until he pushes against it and it swings outward into another room, I thought he was going to float right through the wall.
Can he do that? I wouldn’t be surprised if he could.
Moving closer to one of the lights, I do a double-take when I realize that it wasn’t just giving the illusion of floating over the scone. Itisfloating, like magic.
Okay, then.
I couldn’t care less how it does it. Letting the spellbook fall into my open arms, I take the moment without the shadow monster to go back to flipping through the pages, looking for some way to reverse whatever it is that I did.
Last night, I only paid attention to the page Shannon had marked with her receipt. When nothing happened, I closed it and immediately forgot about it for the first time since I sold her the damn thing.
The rest of the pages have the same typeface. Other spells, I figure, or something else. I can’t tell. It’s all in the same strange language—the same one the horned monster speaks, I’m betting—and whoever marked up the ‘true love’ spell wasn’t decent enough to translate anything else.
I got back to the page markedVERUS AMOR, a trembling finger traveling down the print until I reach the second big paragraph.
Promise, I think. I know what ‘manifest’ means now, but what about ‘promise’?
