Page 6 of Hellish Witch

“It’s all going to be okay,” I murmured, trying to soothe us both.

I may have just killed a man, but how could I regret saving such a majestic creature?

Her lips peeled back, revealing razor-sharp fangs.

And she struck.

Chapter 2

Ilurched away from the feral hellcat, but my feet slid out from under me, and I landed in the blood-soaked grass with a squelch.

The beast’s jaws locked around my forearm, fangs puncturing my skin.

I yanked out of her maw with a yelp, shoving her off and scrambling to my feet.

“Ow, you fuzzy traitor!” I clutched my arm and bared my own fangs. “Why?!”

Poison rushed through my veins, straight towards my chest in a wave of heat.

The hellcat licked her chops, swiping traces of my blood as she sat back on her haunches with what could only be described as a self-satisfied grin.

I glared at the smug beast.

She rose, turning her snooty cat butt on me, and whacked me in the face with her deadly red tail puff.

I clutched my cheek at the ticklish thwack, but thankfully, the pierce of a stinger was absent. At least the evil furball had only poisoned me once.

She sauntered towards the Bloodwood, and I hissed after her retreating form, “Ungrateful ball of fluff!”

I clamped my mouth shut.

Probably best not to shout in the middle of the night at my own crime scene.

Warmth throbbed along my arm from the fresh wound. A neat ring of pointy marks cut my wrist but, oddly, didn’t bleed. Even with my rapid healing, a bite this deep should have. Instead, it shimmered, an almost glittering crimson.

The warm tingle of her poison worked its way to my chest, pooling around my heart. The adrenaline rush left me strangely energised. Whatever she’d intended for the venom in her fangs, it didn’t seem to have worked.

Another toxin I was immune to, I supposed, thanks to my witchy healing magic.

I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to deal with my real problem.

Blood and cuts covered so much of the body at my feet that it was hard to tell what he really looked like. The familiar metallic scent was at least partially covered by the sharp booze from the bottle shattered beside him.

Guilt bit me harder than the hellcat. He’d clearly been a mean drunk, but had he deserved to die in such a painful way?

Maybe, maybe not.

It should have been a conscious decision though. You shouldn’t just murder people by accident.

I might have been raised in the alternating neglect and violence by my cruel aunts, but even I’d learned that lesson.

An uneasy feeling swam through my middle as I thought ofhowI’d killed him. There was something wrong with me. Twisted. Broken.

Had been for months now.

I stuffed down the fear and grabbed the demon by his ragged boot. Heaving with all my might, I followed the sassy hellcat, dragging her captor towards the woods.

The bastard was heavy given how lithe his frame was, and his curled horns kept snagging clumps of mud, soft from the day’s rain.

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