To Bewitch An Evil's Heart
"Keep doing that, little witch," he murmured, h
with a disappointed t
s fingers mentally. His body turned rubbery, black bleeding in his sight. He is m
if he killed her stopped him. He stopped drinking, moved aw
, though. "Try me," she whispered, infusing t
ower lip. "Maybe I will." He
oes, stinging heat, throbbing pleasure, a pain for more. Her lips were
e could find, and burned it with fire. It's on fire. More. He nurtured the flames, fanning them higher, until the power of his magic was a dazz
demon with all its might, expelling him. Crying, he f
ing play of light and shadows on the grave. Panting, he watched the demon move. His aura grew darker as he lift
e last battered, exhausted magic within him, and brought it closer. It would hurt like
s power. It rotated, eager to release. His energy hiss
from her, the next right in his face. Damn, he's fast, wa
eady, his power leaped to the surface. His other arm
her mouth with a kiss
ed her lips, her tongue demanding as she licked him, all except ordering her to open up. In an
red back. "Dam
ine to his senses - dark spice, scorching heat, kissed by a trace of iron from his own blood. Its energy enveloped her as it pulled her closer, pressing the suddenly sensitiv
d and tasted and met its tongue, out of need and hunger. She moaned at the kiss, dropped her body on him, and_good gods, the feelin
from under him. For the second time tonight, he fell on his back on what must have been the hardest floor ever ma
His one hand had been cradled behind his head during his fall, and now g
metime," he said, kissed
drenaline slowed, and the results of the battle fell on it. His magic - weakened, almost exhausted - boiled to a flash. His body ached i
illed her, left her almost broken lying on the floor. Wo
d his ass
hur
like a fine mist in the air. More. He needs more. Twenty years bound to the Shadows, and he was so hungry with the sharp taste of pain that he couldn't even resist the beating of t
orner of the back alley from the street. The third did everything to merge with the wall behind him and disappear from Atticus' vie
s 'clothes before he started - the white T-shirt from Idiot One, dark blue jeans and the boots from Idiot Two, and the jacket from the third man. Yes, clichéd bad boy leather jacke
e over-confidence he displayed when Atticus left the shadow of the night, interfering with the quality of the gang's time with their victim. How quick
took a little thought to convince Knife Guy to remove his other clothing. He then dug de
repeated, and the man was bewildered and twisted, the pain exploding in the air. Atticus drank it. He sav
tempting to feed him too, and deep down in him, there was a part of him that was hungry for more than he had tasted. More pain, more blood, more death. It's the dark, abominable p
the teenager. This, Atticus thought, made the difference. He enjoyed inflicting pain, yes, he even enjoyed it, just like the men he had just killed. Bu
and involvement in what had happened. Passing the wide -eyed young man, who was trembling at the s
mpulsion, he turned away from the scene. He
has calmed down. Walking the streets of Kinland, Nevada rains a whisper on hi
nothing but disease, darkness, hunger, and more. It ate him, slowly, uncontrollably, ch
doubt and set him free again. Considering the weak friendship they had, the
ny demon in the witch type. When he felt he had died a few years ago - by weakly tying him up after he had bound him -
Anything. He even killed the beautiful little witch - who would have been the first to take a woman's life, an
two decades of p
lling the truth, and he would not endanger the freedom to know it. So, as he fights him in the d
t requires patience and skill. He had to win his freedom secretly, he had to pe
at he would go straight home, where all his belongings were. He had to mix something - one of those witchy decoctions
ed for it. He volunt
its lavender walls and white décor are weathered and chopped up, it rises to the end of the long driveway like a small castle. For a brief mome
ushed past and all regret into the darkest place within him. Eyes trained on the faint glitter of the magical ward
here is no guarantee that this will work, though. Otherwise, he will bounce and like
ower that would overthrow him if the ward decided he was an undesirable companion. The speed of the heartbeat, he waited. The roar of the wi
Marga na talagang nakilala ito ng ward sa kanyang mga ugat at pinayagan siyang makapasok.
monyo, kahit na pagkatapos ng mga dekada ng pagkakakilala sa kanya. Nalanghap niya ang iba't ibang pabango na nakasabit sa hangin, bukod sa mga
ob ng mga dekada, na sinamahan ng amoy ng kahoy at ng bato ng matandang Victorian, ang mga halamang gamot ng lah
Sa ilalim ng kanyang balat, ang mga pader ay umuugong sa kapangyarihan, napakalakas, napakasigla, sa
nowledge to be used correctly. However, it can be very powerful. It was this obsession that caused his dow
saw her lying on the sofa, sound asleep. There was a pitcher containing some unidentified mud on the cof
ly faint from exhaustion as his body regenerated. Witches may not have the accelerated healing of most creatures in other
was still pale, though not as white as when it left him in the mausoleum. She has th
d not a single drop of blood stained his clothes. Well, he is nothing if not clean. And at least when it comes to women. Marga'
g, aching for touch, for the hot heat of skin-to-skin contact and the madman falling into the depths of carnal pleasure. Marga is a pack of witchy hotness,
e startled him, revealing a hidden streak of temper. Her own personal little witch volcano. So far, however, his
and he saw the sparkle of his fighting spirit in his eyes as they quarreled in the mausoleum. As she studied h
e within him, leave him lost and broken. He bit his teeth until something painful popped out of his ja
he could overcome his freedom at all costs, so he grabbed the ann
of of his strength as a sorcerer, but he still feels his horror as a knock on the mind. And, sure
ck in her aura. Amusement curling inside, he turned to study the contents of the shelf on the wall, giving her an unblocked
glance at her over his shoulder. "Ah. She's awake at last. " Turning his attention t
y held. He casually caught it in the air. And there was his earnest disposition. beautiful. He
less... "He flaunted his word search, snapped
red at her with a stare tha
though it should have featured the Ghostbusters movie. Strange. He put it back on the shelf, exactly al
u get past
that sweet, sweet blood of you
ks around the air. It was a tangible force that resounded through his skin, causing h
g her. "Where did yo
"Took them o
ll alive?" Her voic
it smiled at him.
, thickening, clearly ready to fight with himsel
e the aura of the people, dark and streaked with deat
bind you in th
p you?" He walked over to the unlikely flat TV and knelt in front of i
hint of arousal - similar to when they kissed in the graveyard. Interesting. He deli
rs to the top of the TV. Where is the ba
tudy in incredulity. "You're rea
ht I'd renege on
n an inch of my life, and then left me th
or ... "Striking sigh, she gave him her best look of long-suffering holiness. "Besides," he
un
be a full pleasure he did not expect. And that's not part of the plan.
him to hear. "You drank my blood.
off pain... "He raised his hand to touch her cheek. "And pleasure." His finger dropped to the line of his jaw, and he shivered. So soft, so delicate. "I have had your blood. I hav
nt. The story of the beautiful blush creeping do
mm
to sleep
ng I'd rather do than lock myself in a secluded room with you and make up for twenty years of involuntary celibacy. But- "He strok
scent of her arousal spread through the ai
ly. His finger care
ipples were obviously hard under her
ly doesn't consent, he won't be forced by it, and not just because it's hard to take pleasure from someone who doesn't like it. But he was int
d if it rejects him, he needs to find someone else. Even if the whole city is at his disposal, though, he prefers to
woman's interest followed her shrinkage, refuting her hurtful words. "Why don't you
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