Page 92 of Wicked Flavors

“Shit, okay,” Gwen pulled away, shaking her hands. “What do I do after I get the book? How do I use it to help you?”

“You don’t.”

The words echoed in her ears.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t help me, Gwen. Whatever is trying to force me into existence, I’ll face on my own—”

Before Ambrosius could finish, Gwen had already slapped him across the face.

“Fuckyou,” Gwen snapped.

“My—”

“No, fuck you, Ambrosius!” Gwen cried. “I’m your warlock, aren’t I? I’m supposed to help you! What the fuck was the point of making me your warlock if you won’t let me help you?!”

The rage inside Gwen was growing by the minute. All because this bull-headed demon couldn’t put aside his need for control. Because Ambrosius couldn’t risk being vulnerable, because it was toohumanto ask her for help, even on death’s door.

“You’re not ready.”

“Thenmakeme ready!”

“I’m not sending you to your death! Gwen, you couldn’t fight off a single undead—”

“Donotuse my death as an excuse to keep me from fighting for you!” Gwen exclaimed as black tears spilled down her cheeks. “Ambrosius, why the fuck do you think I’ve put up with all of this supernatural bullshit since we met? It’s because ofyou!Because for whatever fucked up reason, you’re it. You’re everything. And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it, I fell inlove withyou. Horror and all. So, let mefucking help you.”

The partial release of frustration left Gwen shaky more than relieved. Ambrosius was still a demon, and he could disregard her love as just another human condition that ruined her. In fact, Gwen was more than prepared for it, for his anger and cruelty.

Ambrosius tilted his head back against the pillow, dark eyes heavy with something Gwen couldn’t read. The ink on his body was still moving, skittering like the spiders in her bathroom.

“You’ve lost your senses if you think you love me,” Ambrosius chuckled tiredly.

“I never said I was mentally well,” Gwen retorted. “Ro …please. Let me do this for you.”

The demon sighed, “Get the book.”

Still stubborn, but Gwen would take it. She dashed to the bathroom, flicking a switch, and brightening the room with harsh light upon entering. The spiders scattered, drawing to the dark corners of the bathroom. The book hung against the wall, exactly as she had left it. Gwen grabbed it, pulling it free from the thick webbing.

The book was heavy, and as Gwen pulled it free from its binding, she could see it was leather bound. Black, with paper similar to when the book had just been a scroll. On the cover was the same symbol Gwen had seen on Ambrosius’ cards. Gwen was tracing the lines when her foot almost slid out from under her.

Gwen caught herself against the wall, dropping her gaze to the ground. The thing that she had caught her foot on had slid across the floor. Sierra’s bracelet. Gwen had forgotten all about it with the attack, her sudden death, and reconciliation with Ambrosius. The encounter that had happened earlier that day had just slipped her mind.

Wait…

Kneeling, Gwen picked up the bracelet. She wasn’t sure what drew her eye, but Gwen found herself fiddling with the beads. They were black with white letters that spelled out a single word.

Sacrifice.

It was an odd message, and to Gwen’s knowledge, Sierra wasn’t religious by any means. Given the younger woman’s tendency to chat, Gwen was certain she wouldhave heard about a church camp or rock band by now. There was a chance that it was something gifted to her, but if so, why wasn’t there a cross charm to go with it—

I really enjoy UFO’s, occult and…

Gwen frowned, turning one of the black beads over.

I really am sorry, Gwen. I hope you’ll forgive me one day.

Her eyes widened.

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