Dark Hope by H. D. Smith

Author:H. D. Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Demons & Devils, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban, urban fantasy, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 1771551410
Publisher: Champagne Books
Published: 2014-03-02T05:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

The room was bright from the sun outside when I woke. I was on the bed, twisted in the sheets. The room had been put back together and someone had tucked me in.

Cringing at how I’d practically thrown myself at Mace, I thought of the night before and wanted to scream. I moved my head and almost hurled. Nausea was not my friend. I nearly tripped detangling myself from the sheets.

I ran to the bathroom and made it just before I threw up.

After flushing away the cotton candy sludge—the remains of Pagan cake—I sank to the floor. My conversation with Mace ran through my head.

I’d kissed him. I’d begged him to stay with me. God, make love to me.

I wanted to go home, curl up on the couch with Jack—not Mace—and have him hold me. I’d go crazy if I didn’t have something that was normal soon, something that didn’t have anything to do with my insane reality.

My stomach gurgled. I leaned over the toilet and threw up again. Crying wouldn’t help. I had to get out of here. Screw Mace and my pledge to him. I could leave—go to The Boss—he’d fix everything. He might kill me too, but that would be better than pining for Mace.

I stood and washed out my mouth. After drinking several handfuls of water, I splashed more on my face then glanced at the shower, then at my clothes. I’d been in the same shirt and pants for what seemed like days. I needed the clothes off, and to wash away the memory of Mace’s hands and lips.

I peeled off my clothes and started the shower. It was hot and steamy within seconds. Inside, the water washed over me, soothing my nerves and sore muscles. I washed, but no amount of scrubbing made me feel clean. My skin tingled as if his hands were still on me. His touch, his kiss, his smell—it was all around me. Resting my head against the tile, I closed my eyes and thought about home—about Jack. What if I never saw him again? I started to cry. What would he think if I never came home?

I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. When I stood in front of the vanity, I didn’t recognize the girl who stared back at me. Her color was sickly pale, red hair dull and lifeless. She had bruises everywhere and scars. Twisting around to see my back, I gaped at my gaunt reflection and Mace’s mark!

She’s still you, the voice whispered.

I know. I didn’t need to be reminded of everything. Taking a deep breath, I wiped my eyes. I couldn’t lie down and accept this hell. I had to fight.

I leaned in closer to the mirror to more clearly see the mark. It was a red tattoo, a cord of vines and jagged edges circling the emblem of a serpent. It rested in the center of my back, between my shoulder blades. I loathed it and what it represented.

The click of a door shutting brought my attention back to the room.

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