Page 45 of Wrongfully Magicked
As the sun rises in the sky, sand blows across the desert landscape, sounding like rocks peppering the exterior of the truck. Most vehicles are sandblasted within a week, the paint stripped down to the frame.
Even inside the vehicle, I can feel the temperature rising. By mid-morning, the air will be stifling. My shadows wrap around me, sinking into my skin to seek shelter from the light. The tiny shadow that attached itself to Anita buries itself in the strands of her hair, then dips under her clothing to skim across her body.
She shivers at the sensation, many people associating the feeling with someone stepping across their grave. Then I’m distracted by the feeling of her silken skin. Her sweet but spicy scent fills my mind, and I’m suddenly desperate for a taste.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, the plastic groaning in protest, and I grit my teeth as I shift in my seat when it feels like my pants are trying to strangle my cock. It takes all my willpower not to send my shadows coasting over her body until she writhes in her seat and moans my name in pleasure.
Turnabout is fair play, after all.
The fact that she’s completely unaware that she’s torturing me is irrelevant.
I blow out a breath, tear my eyes off the rearview mirror—again—and focus on the directions Darby reads off, ignoring the look he gives me when he has to repeat himself twice. While there are some shacks along the way, they are obvious traps for the unwary, and we keep our distance.
One hour turns into two, and the first hint of trees dot the horizon.
Many would breathe a sigh of relief to see trees and shelter, especially if they are stranded on foot, but that would be a mistake. The forest is where the real dangers hunker down andlie in wait—wildlings once known as beastlings who have long since given up on their human forms, and mages who have warrants out for their arrest after turning to dark magic, curses, or blood magic.
Once a mage turns dark, the power can be addictive.
It twists a person’s magic and soul. Their blood darkens with each spell until it looks like black sludge slithering through their veins. By that time, the taint is so severe, their magic basically consumes them from the inside out.
It’s surprising how often that happens.
It’s a disease that has no cure.
Many people dismiss the warning, thinking it won’t happen to them. Some spells can cover it for a while, but even illusions aren’t strong enough to hide the effects, not when the blood slowly starts to erode them from the inside out until they resemble the decaying monsters of legends—zombies.
I slow the vehicle as we near the woodlands. As soon as we cross the threshold, the sunlight disappears. The silence is so thick that not even the insects dare make a sound. It’s like entering a different world. The trees are ancient, towering in the sky. Their branches stretch overhead, the leaves thick and bright green.
They should look healthy, but they are a little too picture perfect. If you look a little closer, the crevices in the bark are stained dark red from dried blood. We stay on the road for the next ten miles, the trees growing thicker, the path narrower. I can practically feel eyes watching us from the shadows.
The forest is endless and seems to move on its own. No one has been successful in mapping it. They disappeared long before they could complete the job.
Only the desperate venture here.
The road weaves through the trees, narrowing until it’s only a rutted path, and the truck slows to a snail’s pace. When we reacha dead end, I turn off the ignition, and the engine pings in the silence.
The animosity between the guys is long gone, each of them searching the trees for danger.
Anita leans forward, not taking her gaze away from the forest. “Does anyone else feel the wrongness?”
I exchange a look with the guys. It’s the same sensation that has been present at each crime scene. With a heavy sigh, I push the door open and send out my shadows. They don’t go far, just enough to watch our backs. “Let’s go.”
Everyone piles out, and we follow Darby as he winds his way through the trees. We walk single file behind him, and I note how the guys automatically keep Anita between them. Despite how much he might protest her presence, even Cass is protective of her.
We don’t go more than a mile before we come into a clearing. We all stop dead and stare at the body tied spread eagle between two trees. The corpse is so mangled that it hardly resembles anything human. The violence of the crime is brutal, and I barely resist the urge to stand in front of Anita and block her view.
Cass was right.
Bringing her was a mistake.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ANITA
Iwatch in amusement as Soren hovers over me like nature is a deadly foe he must conquer, not that I can blame him. Darkness lingers in the forest, something malevolent hunting for its next meal.
Shaking off the oppressive feeling, I scan the guys to see if they sense something that I’m missing. Porter takes over as lead, blazing a path, and I swear I see little wisps of shadow zip and zing around him, helping him clear the way. Darby is only a step behind, giving directions and tramping down the trail.
