Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
But he doesn’t move a muscle.
And when the blackness in his eyes fades, they reveal the fluttering whites of his eyeballs rolled back in his head.
“Brom!” I yell at him, shaking him now by both shoulders. Is he suffering from falling sickness? Is this possession?
I don’t like to hurt him without his permission and not when he doesn’t deserve it, but I wind up and slap him across the face so hard that my palm stings, and the impact would have knocked anyone off-balance.
But not him.
Oh shit.
Shit.
Then finally, finally, he closes his eyes and his chin dips down for a moment.
“Abe!” I try, shaking him again in panic. “Abraham Van Brunt!”
His head tilts back and forth for a moment and then he looks up at me. His eyes are normal, black in this dim light.
I place my hands on either side of his face, his beard rough against my palms. “It’s me.” I swallow hard, staring deep into his eyes, willing him to come back to me. “It’s Ichabod.”
“Ichabod,” he repeats, blinking. Then gives his head a shake as he steps back, running his hand over his face, the chains clinking. “What the devil just happened?”
“I was hoping you would know,” I say, my fingers closing over his wrist and holding him. “I went to go look in the hall, and when I turned around you were staring out the window like this. Your eyes…they’d gone black at first, then they rolled back in your head. What happened to you? Where did you go?”
His jaw tenses, his brows coming together, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. It’s only because I’m looking at him so closely that I see the dimple appear in his beard, just for a moment. The quickest, faintest smile.
Then he turns his head to mine, his gaze impassive.
“I don’t know what happened,” he says blankly. “I don’t remember.”
And I know he’s lying.
Chapter 18
Kat
The next day went slowly. Classes had been canceled for an official day of mourning over Lotte, so I didn’t see Crane or Brom until I ran into them in the library. It was busy in there since the students didn’t have much else to do, but I managed to sit with the two of them for an hour. We didn’t discuss the ritual because Crane’s voice only works one way and there were too many people around us, but when we left he did tell me that we would meet in a glen in the woods at three a.m., wearing a robe with nothing underneath, and in order to prepare I was to cleanse myself thoroughly. In his words, my cunt and my asshole should be clean enough to eat off of.
Naturally, that night I didn’t sleep a wink. I kept my eye on the clock, watching as the minutes and hours ticked down to three. I’d had an extra bath as Crane so crudely instructed me to do but that did nothing to relax me. All I could think of was what was going to happen tonight.
I know blood magic involves blood, so that part has me a little squeamish.
I know sex magic involves sex, and even though I’m fairly certain I’m open to anything, my inexperience might get in the way. I know by now that my trysts with Crane and Brom, and even poor Joshua Meeks, have been varied but sex magic with two partners at once is beyond everything I’ve ever thought about.
Alright, I suppose that’s a lie. I’ve thought about it. I’ve fantasized about it until I was hot under the collar. And, of course, I was partially involved in one last week. But Brom never touched me and he had been restrained. What will happen when he’s free to do what he wants?
Crane is in charge, I remind myself, he’ll keep Brom in his place.
But a sick part of me wonders what would happen if Brom broke free?
At ten to three, I take off my nightgown and drawers so that I am completely nude, then wrap the dark ceremonial robe that students all have around me. Boots were too fussy, but I don’t want to go through the woods barefoot, so I put on my slippers, knowing I was going to damage them, open my window and steal away into the night.
The damp grass kicks up on my calves as I run across the campus toward the library. Crane had said to go behind the building where the Gothic windows are and walk straight into the woods from there, but with no moon in the sky, it’s hard to see the library itself, and I’m too afraid to light my fingertips in case of calling attention to myself.
But even though I’m entering the woods in the pitch dark, I can sense Brom and Crane ahead of me. I don’t see the light from their candles yet, nor do I hear them, but my body is pulled forward anyway, their energy calling to mine.