Page 148 of Bedeviled

Nothing happens.

The blood flow doesn’t stem; the tissue doesn’t heal. The problem itself isn’t fixed.

My breath catches when I finally understand.

This isn’t simply poison. This is a curse.

I begin to speak the English version of the Moche curse-breaking spell Memnon taught me weeks ago.

“Begone poisoned death that corrupts the spirit. With love I destroy you.”

Beneath my palms, another wave of magic pulses out. I notice distractedly that it looks a bit more shimmery than usual, and as it twists, for an instant, I catch a flash of indigo in its plumes. I don’t have time to dwell on my power, however, before it sinks into Sybil, moving through her veins until it finds the corrosive curse and begins destroying it.

Within seconds, thick rivulets of inky black liquid trickle out of Sybil’s eyes and ears, nose and mouth.

The curse.

I shudder when I see it. Almost as soon as it’s expulsed, it begins to smoke and sizzle until nothing remains but an oily trail of smoke.

Sybil gasps, coming up for a full breath of air, then coughs out the last of the blood in her lungs.

I exhale, nearly sagging with relief.

Sybil meets my eyes for a split second before—“Sawyer.”

With her new shifter reflexes she flips to her feet and rushes over to where Kane cradles her mate in his arms. Sawyer continues to choke as he lies in Kane’s arms.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sybil croaks out, her teeth a little sharper than usual. Kane glances at me as well, his wolf in the back of his eyes.

“It’s a curse,” I say. “But we can break it.”

It’s then that the screams and choked cries from the rest of the room come roaring back into my awareness.

My eyes sweep over the bloody, agonized faces. Most of the people harmed seem to be coven sisters—meaning they have magic of their own. That’s a good thing, considering what I mean to do.

I place a hand to my throat and whisper a spell. I wait a moment for the magic to sink in, and then I speak.

“Coven sisters!” My voice booms throughout the dining hall, louder even than the screams. I head down the table I’m standing beside until I get to a witch who’s slumped forward in her seat.

“Listen closely,” I say to the room, though hardly anyone can hear me over the noise. “This is a curse. To break it, place your hand on an exposed patch of skin.” I demonstrate by placing my own hand on the forehead of the coven sister beside me.

This should be just like healing oneself. If I can get these witches to incant the spell, they should be able to lift the curse from themselves.

“Now,” I continue, “repeat after me: Begone poisoned death that corrupts the spirit. With love I destroy you.”

As I speak, magic pours from me again. It thickens around my sister’s face before it enters her. I sense the moment my power encounters the dark spell. Quickly, it pushes the curse out of her body, dissolving it as it goes.

Around me, there are still screams and blood and darting familiars, but some of the noise is replaced by incantations. I can hear Sybil’s own voice echoing the words I just spoke, and across several tables, I see plumes of various colors sift out from other witches, followed by the hissing sound of burning curses. I exhale. Some heard me and acted.

I hear my best friend cry out, and when I glance over at her, Sawyer leans forward out of Kane’s arms and kisses Sybil like his life depends on it.

The sight fills me with relief—relief that is quickly squashed when the remaining, fractured screams in the room rip my attention away.

“Coven sisters!” I say, my voice booming once more. “Find someone injured and repeat the curse-breaking spell!”

There’s a flurry of movement. Chairs screech and shoes slap against the floor as witches move through the room to get to those still bleeding.

… Selene … Memnon’s voice whispers across our bond.