Page 13 of A Soul's Curse
He didn’t move to help me. “I warned you.”
Exhaling a heavy breath, I placed a hand over my chest and let my magic flow into me.
“What are you doing?” His hand slowly reached for his knife. His face might have been completely cloaked by the hood, but his hands weren’t, and a flash of dark red skin filled my vision. Was this man … a demon?
“Relax. It’s the venom from Archie’s snake. I removed a lot of it before I passed out, but I don’t think you got the rest of it. I’m trying to neutralize any lingering side effects with my magic.” As my magic fed off the toxic substance, my limbs lightened, the nausea subsiding. “These burns also, well, kinda still feel like they’re on fire. I’m doing a quick pass to start the healing process.”
“Venom?” His spine straightened. “That … I … shoved an antibiotic down your throat because of the burns, but I didn’t see a snake bite on you.” He humphed, seeming a bit disappointed in himself for missing the dangerous toxin.
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. How would you have known? It didn’t even leave behind fang marks.” I smiled at him as I rubbed my neck where there was nothing but smooth skin. I could almost picture him rolling his eyes at me from under the hood. “So, can I repay your generosity by helping to patch up that big boo boo on your arm, Mr. Dark and Brooding Mysterious Asshole Demon?”
“Demon? I—” He went into complete defensive mode, turning away and using his hand to hide the wound on his arm. “I don’t let strangers touch me, let alone treat my injuries. I’m fine, anyway. Since I’m a demon, it barely hurts and it’ll heal quickly.”
“Ha! So youarea demon!” I exclaimed, but he didn’t respond. “You realize the irony of your words, right? Consideringyousaved a stranger and treated his wounds?” I pushed myself up off the floor and frowned at him. “Okay, fine. Well, I’m not a stranger. You already know my name is Theo. And the last time I checked, demons might heal faster than the average human, but not when they’re stabbed with a knife blazing with a rune that prevents wounds from healing.”
He hesitated for a moment, and I wondered if maybe my assumption was wrong. I could feel something radiating off thatwound—toxic magic reaching out to mine. I wondered if it was one of the runes from Leon’s knife.
In a fit of frustration, I snatched my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans, surprised I hadn’t lost it last night. I flipped it open and flashed him my license. “Look. I’m not lying. That’s me,” I said, pointing to the picture on my license, “and now you know my birthday, so I’m expecting you to send me a gift.”
He stared at it for a second, then said, “What would you like me to get you?” I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or being serious. There was no sass in his tone.
“Well, I’m a big fan of wine and cheese. But I’ll settle on an early gift if you tell me your name.” Ever so slowly, I removed the dirty rag he had tied around his arm and placed it on the desk. The gash spanned maybe two inches across his bicep. It looked nasty, and I was right about the rune. While it was healing, there was a subtle presence of magic that was preventing his own demon magic from healing it at the rate it should have been. Even through the fabric of his clothing, I could tell it was still raw and oozing blood.
“Warren,” he said with a hiss as I pressed lightly against the edge of the angry wound. He relaxed, just barely, as my fingertips ran across the sticky fabric on the arm of his hoodie.
“Okay, Warren—”
“Ren, actually. I go by Ren.”
A satisfied smile crept up my face. Now we were getting somewhere. “Ren. This looks pretty deep, and I’m worried that because you didn’t immediately treat it, it’ll become infected. You’re going to need to take off this hoodie so I can have a closer look. It’s dirty and saturated in blood, and I need to assess the damage so I can figure out how to heal it.”
“I’d rather not,” came his immediate answer.
The tremendous willpower it took me not to slap him was commendable. I grumbled under my breath, running a handthrough my greasy hair and wishing I could take a shower to clean myself up. My shirt had a nice hole in it from where the heat of the urn had burned right through, and I felt a layer of grime coating my skin from Archie’s ink magic. “Okay,Ren. I don’t know what your deal is, but you’re a grown-ass adult, and so am I. If you really know who I am, then you know I don’t care if you’re a demon. I don’t care if you’re a part-demon part-donkey shifter with the body of a troll.Please, take off the damn hoodie, before I lose my temper and melt it right off your body myself.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, or at least I presumed he did when he tilted his head at me in that “I don’t believe you” kind of gesture. That damn hood was definitely some kind of concealing spell, because even this close to him I couldn’t make out his face.
Accepting the challenge, I snatched his wrist and released my magic. It latched onto the fabric, burning the thick cotton. The cuff of his sleeve shriveled up, and little by little the fabric dissolved. The sweet aroma quickly turned bitter, leaving an unpleasant stench of scorched earth in the air.
Ren yanked his injured arm away. “Fine! You’ve made your point.”
Even though he struggled to shrug off his hoodie, the wound clearly hurting more than he let on, I didn’t offer help. He kept his gaze averted from mine until he tossed the tattered piece of clothing off to the side and shot me an annoyed glower. “Happy now? Let’s get this over with.”
In a very rare moment, I was stunned speechless. Ren was … mesmerizing—built like a powerhouse, with his unnaturally large biceps straining against the tight fabric of his black t-shirt. Intrigue claimed me at the sight of a similar designed tattoo coiling down both arms, and I almost asked him to take off his shirt too because I wanted to see the whole thing. The black design looked like … tentacles maybe?
I forced myself to stop staring, reminding myself I had a boyfriend and I shouldn’t be ogling some other man, but assessing the rest of Ren’s body proved to be just as distracting. Underneath the dried blood on his arms and smeared across his face, there was an undeniable, dangerous allure that perfectly complimented his “bad boy” attitude. His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and angular nose gave him a fiercely handsome appearance. The silver barbell in his right eyebrow and the small hoop through his bottom lip only emphasized his wild nature. His maroon eyes caught in the filtered sunlight with the richness of a fine red wine. The only thing that seemed out of place was his lack of horns, something unheard of for a demon, although they could have been small enough to be hidden beneath the disheveled auburn hair that curled around his ears and across his forehead.
“What are you waiting for?” he grunted. The natural roughness of his words had a commanding edge.
“Um, right. I wish I had my backpack. Do you have any supplies I can use? Something to clean this up and bandage it?”
Ren nodded over toward the dresser, where my black backpack rested against the edge. My heart skipped a beat. Not only had he treated my wounds, but he took the time to take my backpack with him too? How did he even know it was mine?
“I’m assuming this came from Leon’s knife? Did you have a run in with him at the museum before you found me?” Ren didn’t answer me as I delicately rolled up his t-shirt sleeve and I wiped down his bicep, trying to get a better look at the tattoo as I cleaned it up. He sat as still as he could, grunting only a few times when I rubbed a cleansing salve against a tender spot. He refused to take off his shirt and wouldn’t let me examine him very closely, but he assured me that was the only serious injury he sustained.
Since he wasn’t going to answer my questions, I moved on to something else. “My magic can dissolve that spell the knife left behind and close this up,” I told him, “but if you move around a lot, it probably won’t hold. I’ll need to add a few stitches to keep the wound from opening up again.”
“Stitches? What are you, a doctor or something?” he sniffed.
