Art of Death by Becca Vincenza

Art of Death by Becca Vincenza

Author:Becca Vincenza [Vincenza, Becca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780463554753
Published: 2018-09-03T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 15

My head exploded with pain. My powers were unleashed now. Death Lines shot out of my fingers, desperate to control any dead they could find. The power pulled at the delicate bones in my fingers and I flinched, trying to rein it in while also trying to control my vision that had gone haywire.

Ghosts filled every space of the room. Some noticed the power that shot out from me and staggered forward, all speaking at once. Some of the ghosts were echoes, barely there, lost souls who had been in our world for far too long. And a few of the ghosts shockingly kept their attention on Indigo and his sort-of roommate.

“Fuck, tell her to turn it off.”

“If you can’t control yourself, Rowan, I’ll kiss you again.”

I focused on that. Gods help me, I focused on our last kiss. The way his heat penetrated through my clothes. How his hands felt digging into my skin, owning me, supporting me, and how it felt to be held like I was the only one he wanted.

Anger simmered under my skin. No, that wasn’t true. If he did, he wouldn’t have betrayed me. Wouldn’t have left me.

Inhaling a deep, long breath, I held it for a beat before slowly releasing. In my mind, I saw the dimmer switch, and I forced it down. My Death Lines retreated into my body, the magic sizzling as it returned to a resting place, coiled in the palms of my hands. It had never felt like that before. The times I accidentally used my Death Lines in the past, they had come out and retreated as if just part of me.

“What the hell are you doing back?” sort-of roommate asked.

Indigo moved out of the way, ushering me into the apartment. I stepped forward and halted again when my eyes met cold slate black ones. A shiver went down my spine. Unable to control my reaction, I studied him.

Taller than Indigo, which was a feat of its own, he looked even more massive with sweeping elegant horns that sat just above his temples. They rounded off like a ram’s. The tips of his horns pointed to his thick lips. He had a prominent brow that looked almost ridged from here. Wouldn’t surprise me. I blinked, still trying to take all of him in.

“Rowan, this is Cornelius. Neil, this is Ro.”

Cornelius grunted as he eyed me, and it was only then that I could fully take him in because his wings twitched behind his back. Holy shit, he had wings too! The dark gray of his skin resembled the rock his kind had been mistaken for.

“You’re a gargoyle.”

“How observant of you, necromancer,” he said, obviously peeved.

I didn’t even care that he’d insulted me. Meeting a gargoyle was not an everyday experience; from the little I did know about them, they were solitary creatures and had migrated to the mountains centuries ago. Their shape had been harder to glamour, and they usually had to go to a witch or fey to get spelled items.



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