Something Wanton (Mystics & Mayhem) by AJ Myers Read Free Book Online

reaching out to tilt my chin up when I didn’t immediately obey him.  “You’re going to be fine.  You can do this, Em.  If anyone can, it’s you.  You’re stronger than anyone I know, beautiful.”
    His aura flared a little brighter, and I caught a faint hint of his mouthwatering scent.  But, rather than back away from me like I was contaminated when I sucked in a deep breath of it, he just gave me a sympathetic smile and molded one of his long-fingered hands to my cheek. 
    “You sure about that?” I asked, trying to turn away as a sad little sob broke through the dam I was using to hold them back. 
    In answer, he pressed a kiss to my forehead.  I knew then that he wasn’t sure.  He wasn’t sure at all. 

Chapter 4:  The Captive Chronicles
     
    Day 1: 
    I have decided to stay in bed .  Maybe forever.  I’m calling it my coffin.  What?  I’m dead! 
    Anyway, I found a crack in the ceiling over the bed that I’d never noticed before. My mission in life now is to decide if it looks more like a duck or a pig…
    I know, right.  Deep thinking at its best .
     
    Okay, so I didn’t take the news that I was a life-sucking demonoid with a smile.  Really, I don’t think anyone would.  For those first couple of days, I kind of went on autopilot.  I moved only when I had to, I talked only when I had to.  I climbed behind my internal walls, pulled the covers over my head, and mourned for everything I’d lost. 
    The real problem was that I didn’t know how to be me as a darkling.  I didn’t look like me, I barely sounded like me, and I sure as hell didn’t feel like me.  Mostly, I think, because everything that made me me was suddenly missing.  It was all gone, all of it, and I didn’t know how to cope with the losses that just kept hitting me from every direction. 
    My friends?  Gone.  My boyfriend?  Just a painful memory.  My Grams?  Yep, you guessed it—absent and not showing any signs of becoming a presence in the house again anytime soon.
    My life was over, and, unfortunately, I didn’t know how to start a new one. 
    Tyler checked on me every half hour like a prison guard waiting for the convicts to revolt.  I could almost feel the frustration rolling off him every time the door opened and then closed when he found me exactly where I’d been since I’d seen that damned video.  I felt bad for worrying him—but not bad enough, apparently, since I wasn’t in a hurry to do anything about it.
    “It’s a nice day out,” he said when he came to give me my shot at noon my second day on the new meds. 
    Indeed.  And he was telling me this why?  Because I looked like I cared?  It wasn’t like I could go out and enjoy it, after all.
    “The sun is out, the birds are singing,” he continued as he prepped my thigh before using me as a pin cushion.  “The Earth is even still turning on its axis.  Weird, huh?”
    How awesome for the rest of the world. 
    “All right then,” he said cheerfully when he was finished playing nurse—seriously, he’d looked like he was actually enjoying himself when he stabbed me that time.  “Well, let me know when you’re finished pretending to be a corpse and want some company.”
    I really hoped he wouldn’t hold his breath while he was waiting.
     
    Day 4:
    Nothing much to report.  I decided the crack looked more like a sheep than a duck or a pig .  I stared out the window for about twelve hours.  I let Tyler give me my shots. Yeah, my life is so exciting.
    On a brighter note, I have now come up with at least a hundred ways to kill a fairy. 
     
    By day four, Tyler’s patience had started to wear thin . When it was time for my last shot of the day, he marched into the bedroom like he was going into battle.  If I hadn’t been so mired down in self pity, I might have found the look on his face when he saw the empty bed amusing, but I didn’t.  I didn’t find it un amusing, either.  Actually, I didn’t care enough to feel any way