Ritual Magic: dark urban fantasy (Counterfeit Psychic Book 3) by Thea Atkinson

Author:Thea Atkinson [Atkinson, Thea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-03-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Farrel’s hand tasted of onions and blood and I sucked in all the disgusting taste of it as I tried to inhale enough air to scream past his skin. His other hand planted itself on my chest, pinning me to the mattress. I fought him, grateful the doctor had untied me from the restraints before he left. Had he left me tied, I’d have no way of defending myself.

Since I was unrestrained, I didn’t hesitate to fight. I dug at his face. My legs kicked to give me thrust as I bucked off the bed. The panic sent my heel straight into the iron footboard and I arched back in mute pain, doing my best to scream under his palm but getting nothing out but a muffled grunt.

“Lie still,” he hissed. “Lie still or I swear I will tear your throat out right here.”

Eyes wide with fear, I took in all of his features that I could see in the dim light. He was still human for the moment. A mask hung around his neck, tied at the nape and hanging down his chest. The top ties dangling over me as he bore down. The surgeon’s scrubs he wore were stained with a dark fluid that I suspected was blood.

Could he tear my throat out with human teeth? I didn’t dare find out. I went still, even as my mind frantically rattled along a train track to nowhere.

“Good,” he said as he untied the mask from around his neck with the other hand. “Good. Now, I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. You need to keep your mouth shut.”

I nodded and the taste of blood intensified as my lips shifted just enough for my tongue to contact more of this palm. I grimaced but stayed silent. At least for now. The doctor had lain the buzzer somewhere handy, hadn’t he? I could press that and someone would come running. I mean, they had to. That was the point of the damn buzzer in the first place.

I reasoned I could nod at Farrel in tacit agreement because pressing the buzzer would not break my promise not to scream. I hoped that meant I’d keep my throat wonderfully intact.

He jerked his head toward the window. “The wane is coming. They need to prepare.”

I didn’t like the sound of that and I must have indicated how I felt with some movement in my body because his hand bore down heavier on my chest.

“Easy,” he said. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

I knew my eyes were wild with fear. It took everything I had not to struggle and do as he bid. I wanted that hand off my mouth and I’d have done anything to get rid of it in that moment, even disobeying every instinct that told me to scream bloody murder the moment he peeled it away.

I held his nasty gaze even as I scrabbled my fingers toward my pillow. I wasn’t sure what luck was with me that he’d not noticed I was looking for the buzzer.

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