wrist with his bloody, sticky fingers, yanking me half out of my chair. "What are you doing?" I demanded, scared.
"Relax," Al said, smearing our blood together on the last candle. "Count yourself lucky I don't want to share the twisting another way."
He meant sex, and I tugged my hand from Al's, only to find it recaptured and pressed against the candle again. "Try it and you'll be walking funny for a week," I said, glaring.
"One night, itchy witch, you'll come to me," was all he said. Still holding me halfway across the table with my arm outstretched, he smiled and whispered, "Evulago"
My hand in his grip, I stared. My heart hammered, and the wax beneath our fingers became warm. That was the word that would start it all, the one that registered the curse and made it stick. And through my hand touching his, I felt a sensation of disconnection, as if the floor wasn't quite under me. If I closed my eyes, I wasn't sure if I would be here when I opened them, or if I'd be lost in an open, whispering space of the collective where everyone was talking and no one listened. But this time, when Al's word echoed in my head, it was as if someone paused.
Al glowered. "You've been recognized. This is exactly why I didn't want to do this."
His hand let go, and I eased away. Immediately the feeling of the open room and vertigo faded. Nervous, I picked up the white cloth he had thrown at me earlier and wiped my hand as clean as I could get it before tossing it into his hearth fire to burn. I'd not leave it around with the blood of both of us on it.
As the cloth caught, I could feel the curse winding its way through me, settling into my bones, becoming a part of me. My vision was blurry, and I realized I was seeing Al's aura, untainted and unsullied by his millennium of ever-after imbalance. Lips parted, I shifted my eyes from his to mine, also visible as we did the curse. Al's aura was a freaking gold. It was shot through with red and purple, but it was gold, same as mine. Same as Trent's.
The demon saw my shock, and he smiled. "Surprised?" he said softly, voice low and seductive. "Funny how these things work out. Doesn't mean anything though. Not really."
"Ye-e-e-eah," I drawled, gaze flicking behind him to Pierce. Either he was still out, or he was faking. Al's eyes were on mine when I turned back, and I felt cold as I recalled him tasting my aura after I did a spell to see the dead. "Can we finish this?" I said, uneasy.
Head bobbing once, Al reached out and simply spun the stick a hundred and eighty degrees. "Omnia mutantur," he said firmly.
All things change, I thought, then blinked when Al shuddered. His eyes closed, and he breathed deeply, as if tasting something on the air. I'd never seen him with his eyes closed like that, and I noticed the faint lines at the corners. "I take this," he mouthed, not a sound coming from him. I remembered the imbalance hitting me when I did the curse. It had hurt like hell until I accepted it. For Al, there had been no pain - but he hadn't tried to avoid it either.
My head was hurting, and after glancing at Pierce, I breathed, "My mark?"
Al's eyes opened, landing immediately on mine. There was nothing in his expression. "It's gone," he said simply, and a thrill spun from my head to my toes.
I scooted my chair back and fumbled at my boot. "I said it was gone," Al said indignantly.
"I believe you." Heart pounding, I wedged my boot off, and it hit the floor with a thump. Fumbling with the sock, I peeled it off like a snake-skin and twisted my foot up and around. Tears filled my eyes, spilling out and down in a warm trickle. The underside of my foot was smooth and unbroken. The raised circle with a slash through it was gone. It was gone!
Blinking furiously, I smiled. "It's gone," I said, letting my foot go. "I did it!"
"Yada yada yada," Al said sourly. "You tricked the big bad demon. Congratulations. The only way I'm going to save face is by snagging some excellent ley-line witches. Coven quality, you say?"
My exuberance died. "Al, wait," I said as I set my foot on the icy floor, feeling the