Wicked Souls Read Free Page A

leaky
shower head. Everything seemed normal. “My head is fine. The rest
of me, not so much.”
    Lucifer’s gaze went to the spot between my
breasts where Gabe’s fist had been planted. He swallowed hard, but
his eyes didn’t stray, which I appreciated, and glanced back up at
me as if to ask permission. I nodded, hating myself for being
willing to let the Devil lay his hands on me in order to get rid of
the pain, but there it was. I’d do anything to get Luc’s hands on
me.
    Wait, that wasn’t right. My brain
backpedaled. To feel better , I corrected myself.
    The pain eased the instant his hot hand
touched my chest where it caved in, and whatever damage Gabe had
done began to heal. For several minutes, neither of us spoke, my
head, still not functioning at full capacity, filling with memories
of Luc’s hands on other parts of my body. A flush pervaded my skin,
heating it, and more memories flashed across my mental landscape. Happy times. Satisfying times. Lust and sex and love all wound up
and permeated with the magic only Luc could spin.
    I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. Luc’s eyes sparked with a familiar, devious glint, his body
relaxing into his normal confident self. “Better?”
    The cavity in my chest disappeared, the pain
with it. My breathing returned to normal, if a little fast and
shallow, thanks to the familiar, but inappropriate sensations
coursing through my body.
    Although all appeared to be healed, however,
my chest cavity felt lighter, emptier than it had a few minutes
prior. “Yeah, I think so.”
    Luc helped me sit up and handed me the towel
rather reluctantly. “Was Gabriel really trying to kill you?”
    After securing the towel, I rubbed the
vacant-feeling spot, hoping the weird empty sensation would stop. All it did was trigger a ripple of goose bumps over my bare skin
and a renewed sense that something was out of place. As in
literally gone. “He accused me of casting a spell on him. Wanted me
to reverse it. When I told him I didn’t know what he was talking
about, he got pissed.”
    Luc lifted one eyebrow in question. “And?”
    “And what?”
    Luc inspected the cracked tiles again and
then the back of my head as if unconvinced I was tracking right
yet. “Did you?”
    I jerked away and a wave of dizziness almost
toppled me, but I righted myself. “You mean, did I cast a spell on
him? Of course not. I’m two days and a few hours away from hitting
my six-month magic-free anniversary. I’m certainly not going to
jeopardize that with spellcasting. Besides why would I cast a spell
on Gabriel?”
    Luc laid a hand on the tile behind my head
and leaned in close. The heat coming off his body hit me in waves. Waves that felt good. Too good. “What about Emilia?”
    As another chill swept through me, I fought
the urge to snuggle up to Luc’s warm body. Every cell, every
muscle, every bone wanted to press against him. Must’ve been my
brush with death making me act stupid. “Emilia is not a strong
enough witch to cast any kind of spell on Gabriel. Without your
help, that is.”
    At that, I gave him my best Law &
Order confess-your-guilt glare. Luc seemed unfazed. Either I
needed to practice harder or give up the idea I’d make a good
cop.
    Luc heaved a frustrated sigh, then narrowed
his eyes as his gaze stopped on the hand still rubbing the spot
between my breasts. “Are you still in pain?”
    “Not pain,” I said. The sensation was hard
to describe. “Just…empty. Like there’s a hole in my chest.”
    The showerhead let go a series of rapid
drips and all the muscles in Luc’s body tensed.
    His gaze scanned me from head to foot,
hyperaware, as if he were searching for something. “A hole.” It was
said in an unemotional way, but all his nonverbal intensity made
the warning bells in my head ring like Immaculate Conception
calling me to prayer.
    “Probably nothing.” I forced a smile,
stopped rubbing the spot, and took a step to the side. The ticking
of the clock in the