That Old Black Magic by Michelle Rowen Page A

my life.”
    “That’s pretty sure.”
    She pressed her hands against his chest. “So should I approach this the same as the spell? Maksim said a curse is made of denser magic and I was supposed to be careful with it.”
    “Yes, you definitely want to be careful. And he was right. A curse will feel different than a spell on that level. It’s stronger, tougher. Think about gum stuck to someone’s shoe. Only it’s not gum and no shoes are involved.”
    Eden’s expression was filled with enthusiasm, hope, and sheer determination. He didn’t want to say anything to break this mood. He liked seeing the worry gone from her green eyes.
    “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said.
    He almost smiled at that. He was more concerned for her, not him at this moment. “The spell could have gotten worse, but a curse is as bad as it gets. Not sure you could do more damage than was already done.”
    Eden nodded. “Then kiss me again for good luck.”
    “I can definitely do that.” He flexed his abdomen and sat up, doing just as she asked. She tasted good. Addictive. His body responded immediately.
    Sure, now it responded. What happened to this surge of desire five minutes ago?
    Stupid Lucifer.
    He slid his hands under the edge of her flannel top to trail up the length of her spine.
    “Should touch you skin to skin again,” he said. “It will help.”
    “It’s helping.”
    “Now try to concentrate, Eden, and break this damn curse once and for all. One shot. That’s all we’re doing right now. Just a test of the emergency broadcast system.”
    “Just a test.” She kissed him one last time, then closed her eyes and pressed him back down to the mattress. “I can do this.”
    Darrak watched her guardedly. There was no change for a moment, but then she frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing . . . but I—I think I can see something. I think it’s your curse. It’s . . . it’s so dark and horrible.”
    He did hope that was the curse she was seeing, not simply his true demon self. “Tell me exactly what you see.”
    “The darkness is filled with evil like a black hole. It scares me.”
    “What else?”
    She hesitated. “On the other side there’s a glow, a—a brightness. Filled with light and life and goodness.”
    That was probably the celestial energy he’d absorbed from her like an undigested candy bar in his gut. “Focus on the dark part. Try to grab that darkness and test it out—you’ll be able to see if it’s really the curse then or if it’s, uh, just a part of . . . yours truly.”
    “Okay, I can do that.” She was silent for a long moment, her forehead creased with concentration. “I’m almost there. I can move it—right now . . . it’s hard to budge . . .”
    Something was wrong, he sensed it deep in his gut. “Eden, wait a minute. Something about this doesn’t feel right. We need to hang off for just a—”
    And then he felt it. Pain—a searing agony more intense and acute than he’d ever felt before crashed over him like a tidal wave. It was quite possible he literally screamed. He pushed Eden off of him and rolled off the side of the bed. And then, suddenly, his body was gone, and there was only smoke.
    This is it , he thought past the white-hot pain tearing through his entire being. The end. It’s over. It’s all over . . .

EIGHT

    Eden panicked, scrambling off the bed so fast and hard that she bruised her knees. “Darrak! No . . . no! Please!”
    He was gone; only black smoke remained for a long, horrible drawn-out moment.
    And then his body returned. Darrak lay on his back on the carpet, next to an old copy of Glamour magazine.
    “Oh, my God!” She grabbed hold of his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to hurt you! I’m so sorry! Darrak . . . are—are you okay?”
    He blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them and meeting her gaze. “How do I look?”
    “You . . .” Eden gulped and scanned