Page 37 of The Fate of Black Hearts

The witch read the parchment: “By this blood?—”

Someone knocked the gun out of her hand and grabbed her from behind with a hand over her mouth, dragging her backward. She headbutted, kicked, wiggled, and tried to scream. Her captor didn’t budge even when she bit his hand, which meant he wasn’t human.

The eerie feeling of bad magic disappeared, as did the red clay that had surrounded her. The hot, dry air faded into a neutral temperature. In its place was a sense of incongruity, as if everything was frozen and unreal. This was the in-between.

Damn it. Damn him.

“Stop struggling.” Hearing Dom’s voice kickedup her thrashing. He whirled her to face him but kept her in a tight hold. “I’m trying to keep you out of?—”

“Take me back!” she screamed and kicked. She butted her head forward, crashing into his nose. Blood trickled from one of his nostrils.

He released her to wipe his nose.

She stumbled. “You son of a?—”

He grabbed her head and crashed his lips onto hers.

She froze.

“What the hell was that?” She glared at him, wide-eyed.

He craned away but didn’t release her, although his hold on her head lightened to only a gentle touch. “I didn’t know how else to snap you out of your panic.”

“I do not panic, thank you.”

“Sure looked like you lost your shit.”

“I had a plan.”

“What was this brilliant plan? To get your ass swooped up in an ancient magic curse? That type of magic is nasty and virtually impossible to reverse.”

“I’d have killed them allbeforethe curse was cast.”

“It was too late. The witch was already halfway through casting it. They are blood cursed to serve the English Crown, as would you be if you’d stayed. It’s done.”

She could barely register what he was saying. She blinked to try to focus on everything important. He was exquisite. She’d dream walked to visit him more often than she wanted to admit. At first, it’d been about working on her skill in that state. Then,she liked the peacefulness of his place. She liked his lack of judgment. The only thing that irritated her was his unwillingness to talk about himself, or the moments when he outright ignored her. Every time she saw Dom, even when dream walking, she felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. “If you kiss me, do it for real.”

“Why would I kiss you for real?” He cocked his head.

She stared at his crotch where he was fully aroused. “Because you want me.”

“Wanting you and kissing you for real are two entirely different things. My body desires you because, as you know, you’re so bloody beautiful it hurts to look at you.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“No.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

“It wasn’t.”

She leapt forward and slapped him. “Don’t drag me somewhere to insult me while my children are in trouble. Take me back so I can help them.”

He caught the next hand headed for his cheek and held it. “It’s over. What’s done is done. I know you’re frustrated. It won’t help to take it out on me. Did you hear me when I said the curse put them in servitude to the monarch of England?”

“What?” Everything went numb. She stepped away from him and pressed a hand into her chest. “Servitude?Willem wouldn’t enslave his own children.”

He fisted his hands. “He would if he thought it’d make him powerful or rich. Give the monarchy someunbeatable warriors to be used however he or she sees fit? What wouldn’t the Queen pay for that?”