Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1)(32)

I blinked, looking at the brooch that still sat in the box.

It was the same.

I jerked back, shock lancing through me.

“What is it?” Mary’s voice interrupted my vision.

I looked up. “Uh, I think this brooch might be a person.”

“Told you.” Mary nudged Coraline. “What else did you see, Carrow?”

I described the pink smoke and the words that the person had said, hoping I got them right. The witches seemed satisfied, at least from the looks on their faces.

“Do the brooch now,” Mary said.

I touched the brooch, which burned like hell. Blackness exploded in front of my vision, and I surged backward.

“Shit.” Shaking my hand, I looked up. “I couldn’t see anything besides darkness.”

“Well, that Ophelia is a bitch.”

“And she’s now a brooch?” I looked down at the metal.

“Yeah, and we’ve got to get her out,” Beth said.

“I thought you said she was a bitch,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s our bitch.” Coraline grinned. “What exactly did you see in the brooch?”

“Blackness, like I said. Let me try again.”

I touched it once more, and a shrieking sounded, followed by a bright flash of light in the shape of three triangles overlapping each other. I opened my eyes and described it to them.

Mary nodded. “Thanks for your service. You’ve confirmed what we thought and told us the spell that turned her into that thing.”

I didn’t remember telling them a spell, but they seemed satisfied. “No problem.”

“Jeeves will bring you the potions to change your appearance.” Mary looked at Mac. “You both need to take them.”

“In the meantime, enjoy the party.” Beth grinned.

“We kind of need to get a move on,” I said, my head still woozy.

“Well, you’re going to need to walk off your drunk a bit,” Coraline said. “Might as well do it here.”

“Yeah, sure.” I looked at Mac, who nodded.

The three witches left, hurrying off with their box. Which contained their friend.

Weird.

Mac looked at me. “I’m going to go try to find something so we can sober up some.”

“Cool.” I turned and looked at the glittering room. People still danced, seeming to sway in front of my vision. A flash of movement in the corner caught my eye, and I blinked. “What was that?”

“What?” Mac asked.

“I swear I saw something.”

Mac frowned. “You’re pissed.”

“Maybe. But I saw something.”

“Go investigate. I’ll find you soon.”

“Deal.” I staggered toward the flicker of movement against the dark, glittering wall. My steps became more graceful the farther I walked, but I was still pretty out of my mind. Fortunately, the drunken dancers around me hid most of my awkwardness.

As I neared the wall, the air seemed to vibrate slightly. I pushed my way through the rest of the crowd, finding a hallway. It was shadowed and apparently empty, but it beckoned to me.

My heartbeat surged as I stepped toward it.

Was someone in there?

I moved forward, swaying only slightly now. I still felt drunk, but I at least had control of my limbs. I wasn’t going to faceplant.

Anticipation surged through me as I stepped into the darkened hallway.

I smelled him before I saw him—a spicy, whiskey-and-fireside scent. And the connection…that strange fizzing in my chest, a lightness I’d never felt before. The wire that connected us.

The Devil of Darkvale was here.

I squinted into the dark, barely able to make out the shadow of a man. He was huge, towering over me with a leonine grace that was all threat. My heart leapt into my throat as my hand flashed out and miraculously collided with a light switch. I flipped it on, and a faint golden glow gleamed from the ceiling.

It cast the Devil in a fiery light that only seemed to emphasize his icy hardness. He leaned casually against the wall, every muscle perfectly still but ready to pounce. If I tried to run, he’d be on me in a heartbeat.

Shadows flickered over his eerily perfect features, making his cheekbones look sharp as glass and his lips full and kissable. They didn’t fit with the rest of his hard face, and the contrast made something in my belly flutter.

He was still dressed in an impeccable suit, but it didn’t make him look staid or boring or even like a businessman. No, he looked like a spy. If spies had fangs. I couldn’t see his now, but the memory of them flickered in my mind.

“Why are you here?” I was glad that my voice sounded stable. I could still feel the wooziness that came with the drink I’d had earlier, but the sight of him sobered me up some.

His gaze traveled down my body, and I remembered with a start that I was still dressed in the blue bikini. My hair was wet.

We were a good two meters apart, but it was too close. I stepped back.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“When you look at me like I’m a piece of steak, yeah.”

“Not steak.”

“No?”

“Cake.”

I scowled at him. “I am not food.” I pointed to his mouth. “And considering the fact that you do eat people, I’m finding that comparison a bit too close for comfort.”