Death Kissed (Nightworld: Court of Magic Book 1) by J.N. Colon

Author:J.N. Colon [Colon, J.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

I struggled into a sitting position in my bed, an invisible mallet pummeling my skull from the ludicrous amount of fae wine I chugged last night. My gaze lowered to the large black T-shirt swallowing my frame. A familiar citrus scent infused the fabric.

My heart took a flying leap into my throat.

Why the hell was I wearing Caleb’s T-shirt?

I jumped out of bed and tripped on my discarded jeans, stubbing my toe. Damn it! Hopping on my uninjured foot did nothing to dull the pain.

Did Caleb help me to my room last night? Did he stay? Did something happen?

My bra dangled from the lampshade in the corner. Warts on a witch.

Chills and hot flashes ran over me as I imagined all the different scenarios that could have occurred.

Hazy memories of last night sped to the surface. The vampires were not responsible for the murders, or if they were, Mila and her posse hadn’t been involved. I’d used my gift of death for nothing. We were back at the beginning with no leads.

Images of dancing with the angelic-looking demon at Shade flashed through my mind, setting off a whole new wave of hot flashes. Had I really done that in front of Caleb?

The twisted dagger I saw in Link’s mind when my powers accidentally latched onto him suddenly bombarded my thoughts. I raked my fingers through my gnarled hair. Something about the ancient weapon nagged at the edges of my consciousness. Had I seen it before? Maybe in a grimoire in Ellexia’s reliquary?

That really wasn’t important right now. Finding out what happened with Caleb was priority number one.

The bright morning sun—way too damn chipper for my liking—streamed in through the windows to the left of the stone fireplace. Of course the one time the clouds decided to take a break I had a wicked hangover.

I flicked my wrist, closing the white gossamer curtains and then the heavy drapes. A throb pierced the center of my forehead from the movement.

Why did I drink so much?

I searched the elegant white room for anything of Caleb’s that might give me a clue as to what transpired. How could I have let this happen? Fae wine was not the same as human alcohol.

My lids squeezed closed as several deep breaths filled my lungs. Meditate. I could meditate to retrieve my memories and save myself the embarrassment of asking that arrogant fae prince.

I waved my hand to float a fluffy pillow to the soft rug in front of the fireplace. Blood thundered in my ears as I bent to retrieve a small wooden box from under my bed.

Oh, gods. I choked back the sickness and stumbled across the room, folding down on the cool silk pillowcase and crossing my legs.

A few herbs and oils were tucked into the box from an occult store down the street owned by a self-proclaimed Wiccan expert. I snorted. Humans wouldn’t know what to do with real magic if it hit them on the head. They were too busy accidentally summoning spirits or demons while trying to conquer love, power, revenge, or money.

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