All Things Wicked by Karina Cooper Read Free Book Online

she didn’t have time to sit and nurse it. She was getting out of here.
    And yes, she was going to rescue Caleb Leigh while she was at it.
    No one deserved to be tortured to death.
    Hurriedly shaking off the loose rope from her other hand, she bent and fumbled with the knots by her ankles. As the ropes hit the dirt, she pushed herself to her feet and thrust her hands out blindly in front of her. Six steps, maybe seven. She took them cautiously. Her fingers slid through air warmer than the ambient temperature, and she sighed shakily in mixed relief and anger as they collided with muscle.
    “Caleb,” she hissed. “Wake up.”
    No response, not even as she pressed forward and found her palms full of wet, warm skin. Muscle flattened. Rose and fell beneath her touch and as heat climbed her cheeks, she realized she’d found his chest. His lean, beautifully defined chest.
    He breathed, slow and even. Thank God, he was alive.
    And she was an idiot.
    Muttering under her breath, she blindly mapped the contours of his torso, skimmed the taut, round shape of his shoulder and slid her fingers over smooth flesh. No ridges scraped under her fingertips. She’d found his right side, then.
    Slowly, holding her breath, Juliet traced the very tips of her fingers across his chest. They glided across smooth skin and dipped into the valleys of muscle; a warm flush slid to her belly. Pooled lower. Without anything for her eyes to adjust to, her sense of touch seemed somehow stronger. Infinitely more sensitive. She found herself leaning forward, outlining tendons and sinew.
    Smelling the warm, musky fragrance of his body.
    Oh, Jesus, she had it bad.
    Corrugated skin rasped under her shaking touch, and she blew out a hard, surprised breath. In the dark, the nodules of his scars felt monstrous. Terrifyingly thick and oh, how much pain he must have suffered.
    A muscle tensed under her probing stroke, and she jerked upright, appalled. An arm. No time to be stupid, it was just an arm. Harmless and exactly what she needed. At the end of this arm, there would be ropes.
    She sank to her haunches, sternly setting her jaw, but her palms glided over his elbow in slow exploration. Her fingers dug into the overwhelming contradiction of his body—soft and hard, smooth and ridged. Warm and alive and damp. She traced his unscarred forearm. The wiry hair tickled the pads of her hands, and she stifled a groan.
    She knew exactly how strong those arms were. Remembered the feel of them tight around her, iron and silk and so secure. Like they’d hold her forever.
    “Lies,” she hissed, shaking her head hard enough to catch a tiny breeze from her swinging hair. She bent forward, running her fingertips over the binding with effort. The ropes were tighter than her own had been. The ridges where it puckered into his wrists would hurt later.
    Every nerve thrummed, high alert, her ears straining to hear even the smallest change in sound around her as she concentrated. She found the knots by luck. Cursed silently as they evaded her damp grasp. Grimacing with the effort, her temples throbbing, she sat back on her heels and worked her fingers between his limp hands.
    The ropes twanged. Juliet bit back a shriek as hard fingers clenched over hers, and she froze.
    For a long moment, only his labored breathing filled the silence. It echoed her pounding heart. His hands were damp, hot around hers. Hard enough to hurt.
    Then, pain wrapped through his tightly restrained voice, he said thickly, “Knife in my boot. They didn’t check.”
    She stared into the endless wall of black and weighed her options.
    Could she leave him behind? Yes.
    Could she make it far without him? Maybe.
    Would she ever sleep again, knowing what Alicia planned to do? Imagining the uniquely creative ways the witch could get what she wanted without ever putting him out of his misery?
    She set her jaw. “Which leg?”
    “Left.” He let her go.
    Moving as quickly as she dared in the black void, she