Page 109 of Bedeviled

I sway again, and I hear Kane’s low growl. He places a hand on my shoulder, and even without speaking I know what he’s saying: it’s time to go.

Withdrawing my dagger, I use the tip of it to prick my finger, letting two droplets of blood fall to the ground. “With my blood, strengthen this circle.” To be honest, I’m not sure my blood went entirely to the spell, not when I sense the Hungering Ones lingering just beneath the surface of the earth.

Once I finish, I sheathe my blade and stumble back until I fall against Kane. The lycanthrope, who was terrifying only a few minutes ago, now seems safe.

“Kane, will you finish walking me home?” Are my words slurring? “I don’t feel…so good.”

I feel Fyvyrius’s hungry eyes on me as Kane steers me away from the demon. The lycan’s skeptical expression moves from me to the demon.

We’re going to leave him there? his face seems to say.

“Memnon is coming—he’ll take care of Fyvyrius!” I say, raising my voice until I’m practically shouting the name.

“Fuck you!” I hear the demon shout back.

“No thank you!” I call over my shoulder, falling deeper against Kane. “I have standards!”

The demon says something back, but he’s now too far away to hear.

“Selene.”

My eyes are having a hard time focusing, but I force them to take in Kane’s face.

I’m sure he’s going to chastise me for that little exchange, but instead he says, “Something’s wrong. You smell…off.”

Kane said something similar to me before, the night of the bonfire at the beach. Then, I wrote him off as being pushy. But he’d been right then, and I fear he might be right now as well. I know I feel off.

“I don’t know what’s wrong…” As I say it, I begin to list.

Kane catches me, his hand growing into a claw for a moment before reverting to a hand.

Memnon… Across our bond I reach for the sorcerer.

I feel his closeness, his love, his pride in me, and beyond it all is the violence that he holds back like water behind a dam.

Something isn’t right with me, I confess.

I will take care of it. I’m nearly there, little witch. Hold on just a moment more.

I stumble again, and Kane bends to scoop me up.

“Wait—wait,” I say, pushing him back, just a little. I feel…so faint. “Just, give me a second.”

Kane pauses as I catch my breath. Again, I hear that whine low in his throat. He, too, has a fine sheen of sweat, and I can see some of the muscles of his face twitching, like he’s fighting off the urge to shift.

Not good. Not good. None of this is good.

“Did Sybil bite you?” he asks.

A shiver works its way through my body. “No.” But now, under the light of the full moon, I can’t help but wonder if somewhere somehow I did get nicked. That’s the likeliest explanation for why I feel like shit.

“You still smell off,” he adds.

“Off like I’m turning into a shifter?” I ask.

My vision is going a little blurry. What in the Seven Hells is happening?

“No…” he says, just as puzzled as I am.