Page 23 of Beneath My Skin

“A long time to be a slave, you mean. Everyone thinks having this kind of magic is a gift. But it’s not. It’s a fucking horrible curse. Sure, I’ve seen the march of time and the forward motion of progress. Most of it’s been from the inside looking out. Never a part of the world.”

“Have you always had a master?” I asked.

“Yes. From the instant I stepped from the smoke and ash with sentience I’ve been under someone’s thumb. Jacqueline is the latest in a long line. I will never be free until one of them wishes it so. Which will never happen.”

He watched me with hooded green eyes. His pained scowl was replaced by a careful, expressionless blank canvas.

“Seems like we’re in the same boat,” I said softly, bringing the two halves of his skin together, slow and steady. “I survived the crash but with something else in tow, and now Jacqueline tells me I will never be rid of her until I make it so. I don’t know what to do. I guess I never stopped to think about it, either. I always assumed I would die with Cer inside of me before I found a way to break whatever it is keeping us entwined.”

I stopped when Dax placed his hand over mine. “We can find a way,” he told me. “Maybe not for me, but for you. I promise I won’t stop until you’re free of your demon. Once she’s gone, Jacqueline will have no more desire for you.”

He trembled and I tried to hurry and finish the job.

“Tell me what you’ll do when you’re free. Close your eyes and describe it to me in great detail. Pretend like I’m there with you, seeing what you see.”

He watched me for a few more seconds and then—much to my surprise—he closed his eyes. “There’s a market in Morocco,” he said, “with the greatest array of spices in this world. The air fills and is almost colored by them. There are market vendors calling out with great voices. Animals and people and sights you can’t imagine. The sky is clear and calm and there is shade beneath the canopies. It is warm. Peaceful.”

I finished closing the wound as he painted the picture for me. After cleaning off the area of all blood, I stood there, rubbing first one hand and then the other. I felt rather than heard his breathing deepen.

“We would go to the coast afterward,” he told me lazily. “Bright blue water and coral. Fat lazy seabirds taking their ease on the rocks.”

I wanted to see it for myself. More than I wanted anything else in the world. Then when Dax laced our fingers together and opened his eyes, I realized I wanted him, too.

We stayed there together for a long moment. Trapped. Unable to move or think.

A sharp pain ricocheted from my wrist to my elbow. I tried to ignore it. Whatever Cer wanted from me, it would have to wait.

Nope, not waiting. I bowled over with a howl of pain, the agonizing burn of words pressing up through my skin shooting from my arm down my torso. Like opening the door to her once gave her enough autonomy to impact more than just my forearm.

“Mariella!” Dax surged to his feet then went pale.

I held out a hand to stop him before the pain forced me to my knees. “Don’t touch me. It will be over in a minute.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like not being able to help you.”

I forced my focus down, worried when my eyes crossed and my vision went dim on the edges. “Look,” I said to Cer, “whatever you want me to know better be good. Ugh!” I doubled over again, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain. “It better be a way to stop Jacqueline. Because our last plan was a crap shoot.”

When I finally managed to open my eyes, lines of writing in blood-red adorned my skin.

She’s coming.

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