Page 95 of Wrongfully Magicked
On paper, they look like a perfect mage family who can do no wrong.
They’ve had years of practice getting away with their crimes and built layers of protection around themselves. It would take too long to cut through all their defenses and take them down legally. If we don’t deal with them now, they will eventually find her, and she’ll vanish like she never existed.
Her disappearance would destroy me.
I’ve lost too many people in my life, and I won’t let it happen again.
Whether she knows it or not, I’m completely and irrevocably hers. I can usually hide my possessive asshole tendencies since I avoid human contact like the plague, but not with Anita.
Her name is imprinted on my soul, and I have no intention of ever letting her go.
I’m jealous the other fuckers are able to openly claim her as their mate, and I hate that mages don’t have anything as binding.
If I had a chance, I’d tie her to me for all eternity.
I’ll just have to find a way to make myself indispensable until she realizes she can’t live without me.
ANITA
We hit the city limits just as the sun sets. Darkness creeps through the streets, almost like it’s chasing us, smothering any source of life. The guys are alert, practically quivering as they watch the streets…and me.
Porter and Cassius sit in front, taking turns driving, while Stryker and Soren sulk in the third row. I thought they would come to blows over who got to sit next to me, but while they were silently glaring each other to death, Darby slipped past them, reading his tablet the whole time, and stole the seat. Both men looked at Darby for a second, then shrugged and climbed in the back without a word.
Gwen took one look at all the testosterone and opted to find her own way into the city. When I showed concern, she winked and her wings popped out. With a cocky wave, she shot into the air, her snarky remark that she would scope out the area while she waited for us echoing in her wake.
I peer at the dark skies, searching for her small form, anything to avoid looking at the guys. If the men sensed even a hint of doubt, they would call off the meeting.
Unfortunately, it’s much too late for that.
When I don’t see a familiar speck in the air, I sigh in defeat. Without the distraction, I’m once again hyperaware of the guys’ nearness. I’m cognizant of their presence in the back of my mind, conscious of every shift in the air.
It’s putting me on edge.
While the other guys at least pretend to give me privacy, Darby blatantly stares at me with unwavering intensity. His chin-length, honey blond hair is tucked behind his ears, giving me a clean view of his handsome face. Being near him is hard, the scent of wood smoke on a warm winter night luring me to snuggle closer.
Only I can’t.
The knowledge of my past lingers in his eyes, and I swallow hard as things I’ve long since put behind me surface again.
He knows.
My mind has blocked a lot of the hellish nightmares of my past, but if I probe the darkness too much, the horrors come spilling back. Every blow. Every slice of my flesh. The way their magic would try to peel my skin from my body. Starvation. Sleep deprivation. Broken bones. Vivisections. My older cousin loved to see how long I could go before I screamed.
The list goes on and on.
When they ran out of things to try, they would bring in outside specialists.
Murderers.
Sadists.
Not a week went by without them trying something new to bring out my magic, and now Darby knows every dirty little detail.
Mortification and shame battle for dominance. People never look at you the same after they learn the truth. Some show pity, while others are curious, wanting me to tell them what happened in vivid detail. Revulsion and fear happen a lot as well, many people in a hurry to get away from me, like torture is contagious.
In the past, a few sick fucks even wanted their own turn, thinking I enjoyed it and would willingly become their little plaything.
After another minute, I can’t take his concern any longer. “I don’t think Darby should come with me.”
