Blood Sorcery: a High Stakes Magical Romantasy (Cursed Descendants Book 6) by A.S. Green

Author:A.S. Green [Green, A.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Collinwood Publishing, LLC
Published: 2024-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Eighteen

The smell of maple syrup and coffee tickled Stella’s nose, and though the delicious aromas woke her, she didn’t open her eyes.

Instead, she surrendered to the illusion that she was six years old again, waking up to the sounds of her parents cooking Saturday breakfast, Jade stirring in the twin bed next to her, mourning doves cooing in Washington Square across the street.

The bittersweet mind fuck didn’t last long, even as the mouth-watering aromas lingered.

She pushed up on her elbows. There were no windows in the wolves’ storage room, but her overall stiffness told her she’d slept for a long time. She’d put good money on it being well after noon—good money, that is, if she had even two measly nickels to rub together.

She glanced down at Ethan who was still sound asleep and lying on his stomach. She could just barely make out the edge of the white sheet that was pushed all the way down to the small of his back and clinging to the curve of his mighty fine ass.

Not wanting to wake him by turning on the lights, she snapped up a couple of small finger flames and turned to survey the room.

Two coffee mugs and a plate piled high with pancakes sat atop a tower of boxes that were stacked by the door.

Their bath towels lay crumpled on the floor by the boxes; her red dress pooled on the floor a little closer to the bed. Ethan’s pants were folded neatly on one of the wire shelves, and the witch board lay beside it.

The witch board…

Slowly, Stella peeled back the sheet and walked to the shelves on silent feet. They’d been in such a flurry of panic last night, she really hadn’t taken the time to study the strange artifact they’d found under the floorboards of David Hurley’s office.

She’d have to remember to thank Catherine for her visions about the key. Without it, they might never have found the witch board, and it was clearly important. Why else would her father take such pains to hide it?

Stella picked up the board and ran her finger along its smooth edge. It was approximately twelve inches square, half an inch thick, and— she sniffed it—made of cedar.

She was surprised to find that the wood was still incredibly aromatic. That made her think it wasn’t very old, but the design was so plain and straightforward, lacking even the most primitive of embellishments, she doubted her assessment.

Unlike the ouija boards she sold at her store—which had letters arranged sequentially in an arc with the numbers zero through nine in a row underneath—this board had no letters at all, and the silver numbers repeated over and over around its border, though not in a regular numerical sequence.

The center of the board was completely bare. She turned the board over. There was nothing on the back either. Not even a marking to suggest its maker.

The mattress groaned as Ethan rolled onto his side. His voice was rough with sleep when he asked, “What time is it?”

Stella found Ethan’s phone in the pocket of his pants and checked.

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