Page 32 of A Hunter Cursed
The man had appeared so quickly, she had been stunned. Tall and well-dressed, he was surprising in his beauty, his smile heart-stopping, but Keegan had been able to feel the evil rolling off him in waves so hot it practically burned. That smile on his face hadn’t lasted long. A greeting had barely left his lips when he was seized in a brutal storm of paralyzing power that had thrown Keegan to the ground.
The demon had screamed in impotent fury and Evangeline had laughed as she’d spoken the incantation that drew the demon’s power into herself, laughed at Keegan as she admitted her crimes, bragging at how easy it had been. The transfer complete, she’d turned eyes that burned with an unholy light toward Keegan. “Thank you, child,” she had drawled with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Your sacrifice will be remembered.”
Bloated with her newly acquired strength, Evangeline had disappeared, leaving Keegan alone with an enraged demon set on taking vengeance upon Keegan for what he saw as her duplicity in luring him into a trap. She’d run, the demon’s weakened state the only reason she’d had any chance of escaping, but, despite that loss of power, he had still been so close on her heels she could practically feel his breath on the nape of her neck as he bore down on her, intent on taking the power she had promised him before destroying her completely. If not for the angels, Keegan was sure he would have succeeded.
The sound of thunder booming, lightning flashes that lit the sky to daylight brightness, and then wings surrounding her as she hit the dirt. Wings of bronze, wings of black, wings of white, a glint of metal from the swords they’d drawn. They’d spoken words she hadn’t understood, but whatever they had said, had banished the demon. When they’d turned to speak with her, perhaps to ascertain if she was all right, she’d screamed hysterically, pulling at her hair as the night’s events converged in her mind. So much horror, so much fear, so much pain. A betrayal that had splintered her heart. It was all too much. The angels had witnessed her meltdown and had taken her memory to save her from the trauma. It was an act of kindness, but in doing so, they’d also taken the memory of what Evangeline had done.
Keegan began gagging again as she recalled the sympathy she’d felt for the woman, her mentor, her friend when she’d later been bound and imprisoned by the coven. Hell, she’d even gone to visit her, sat with her, begged her to relinquish the power that had poisoned her so that she might be released. Keegan had wanted her friend back, not realizing that Evangeline had been a monster long before she siphoned the power from that demon.
“You forgive me then, child?” Evangeline had asked.
Without her memories, Keegan had thought the witch had been talking about the overall mischief she had caused the coven which had led to her imprisonment, so she’d answered without hesitation. “Of course I do.”
If she had remembered the grievous crime committed upon her, Keegan never would have said that. She never would have given Evangeline that absolution.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” Keegan gasped out, her eyes accusing as she glared at the angel. “I could have warned the others…” she could have saved so many lives, her foster family included. Demonic powers hadn’t caused Evangeline’s corruption, it had only magnified the darkness that was already there, focused it, and given the witch an arsenal to draw from in her lust for power. Had Destin known, had the coven known, they may have chosen a different path in how they had dealt with Evangeline.
Practically choking on the knowledge, Keegan stumbled away from the angel and out of the kitchen. All these years, she’d been working under the assumption she was cursed, still believing the lies she’d been told. How different her life could have been had her memories not been taken.
“We have a rule not to interfere with humans. We broke that rule that night at Zeph’s behest. Your reaction to us, however, was proof as to why that rule exists. We did what we thought was best for you.”
Keegan had lurched around to face the angel as soon as the first word had been uttered, an angry retort ready, but she couldn’t say it, not after seeing the distress on Cam’s face, the remorse. They hadn’t known, she reminded herself. They couldn’t have known what they had taken. From their point of view, they had seen a human girl distraught and hysterical at being chased by a demon and then being saved by angels – creatures mortals should never witness. Their choice to take her memories, to them, had been an act of mercy.
Taking a deep breath, Keegan shook her head. “I can’t say it’s all right because the lack of those memories cost me too much, but I understand why you did it.”
Chapter Seventeen
His patrol shift over, Jeremiah made his way back to his cabin as the sun made its first appearance on the horizon. He was exhausted, hungry, and cranky as hell considering his wolf was still playing hide and seek. He was tempted to go visit the healer and see if she could give him any insight into this new development, but considering his bad attitude, he thought it might be best to get some food and a nap in first. In the mood he was in, he’d probably end up snapping at Marguerite and the healer didn’t need that kind of bullshit first thing in the morning.
Efrem Deeds, one of the juveniles Jeremiah had been training, called out a greeting as he emerged from his family’s cabin wearing a black tank, track pants, and running shoes in preparation for his morning sprints.
Jeremiah headed over. He wasn’t really in the mood for small talk, but such was the way of pack life. The juveniles especially needed to feel that connection with their alpha and their alpha’s second. “How’s it going, Ef?”
The youth shrugged, flipping an unruly lock of sandy hair out of his eyes. “Too early to tell. You just coming off patrol?”
Jeremiah nodded. Raising his arm, he scrubbed a hand through his own hair. “I need to get some chow and some sleep.”
Efrem nodded as well, his eyes narrowed as he pointed. “Looks like you brushed up against something in the woods unless you were working on your rig earlier.”
Confused, Jeremiah looked down at his shirt with a frown but didn’t see anything.
“On the back of your arm,” the boy told him. “It looks like oil or something.”
Grabbing the arm with his opposite hand, Jeremiah pulled on the skin of his bicep to get a look at the back. Sure enough, there was an oily looking black streak peeking out from beneath the short sleeve of his shirt. His gut clenched, but it didn’t smell like that black ooze he’d encountered previously that now had everyone in a panic. Ef was probably right. He’d most likely brushed up against something in the woods.
“Guess I’ll be taking a shower as well,” he told the boy before wishing him a good run and striding once again for his cabin.
The first thing he did upon arriving, was plug in his phone. The battery had died shortly after he’d sent off those texts to Keegan. It was a good thing a howl was enough to raise an alarm had there been any trouble, because calling anyone would have been a no-go.
Stripping off his clothes, he headed to the bathroom. Going straight for the shower, he turned the water on and stepped back, waiting for it to get hot. It was then he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above the sink.What the fuck?The black wasn’t just on the back of his bicep but smeared all over his back. A thick swath coated the line of his spine with tendrils like the branches of a tree spreading out over his shoulder blades, onto his arms, and up the nape of his neck. Leaning closer to the mirror to get a better look, he let out a yelp of alarm as he saw one of the smaller branches move, creeping even further across his skin.
As if the black was sentient and realized it had been seen, it gave up its stealthy approach. The black slime seemed to lift and undulate in a fast-moving wave. It crawled up his face as he tried to scream, howl, anything, but it was in his mouth, silencing him, rushing up his nose to choke off his breath. It was in his eyes, blinding him, in his ears, and Jeremiah lurched for the door, trying to escape as he clawed at his face. He was drowning and he needed help.
He slammed into a wall, bouncing off it into the living room. He felt the impact of furniture as he tripped and fell. He vaguely heard the sound of something crashing and breaking against the floor through the rush of what sounded like water in his ears. He could no longer see, no longer hear, but he could feel, and it felt like he was being consumed by fire, by ice, every nerve ending in his body lighting up and screaming in excruciating pain. In his last moments of clarity, his pain-riddled mind summoned an image of Keegan. She’d blame herself, he thought. She’d once more believe she was cursed despite what the angel had told her, and that pain was worse than whatever this hellish death was.
∞∞∞
When Jeremiah came to, he was no longer in pain but he was also, he realized, no longer in his cabin. Fuck. He was dead. That was the only explanation for what he was seeing. He’d died and was now in hell.
