Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) by Jennifer Harlow Page B

Dario’s mildew covered couch, stared at the black stain on the ceiling, and immediately burst into tears. What the hell had I done? Was this the life I wanted for myself? To be like my parents? To take advantage of people for a little bit of money? To all but prostitute myself just for companionship and a roof over my head? I couldn’t continue. I didn’t have another month left in me, but what choice did I have? Boarding school was worse than prison; I wouldn’t go back. YaYa would just send me back to school. I was trapped. Completely, utterly alone. Why had he stopped loving me?
    Dario stumbled into my pity party, and though I tried to quell the tears, the dike was demolished, and there was no reassembling it. Through my tears, I could still see the disgust written on his face.
    “What the hell is the matter with you? Stop crying,” he ordered. “Stop it.”
    I just sobbed harder, coming close to hyperventilating, and actually curling into a ball. About ten seconds later, the couch shifted as Dario sat beside me. “It … it’s okay,” he said, lifting me so he could hug me. I rested my head on his shoulder. He reeked of tobacco and sweat, but I didn’t care. “It’ll be okay.”
    It was lovely having someone just hold me. The sobs lessened as he kissed the top of my head, then down my forehead. He lifted my head to kiss my lips. He tasted of liquor and cigarettes, neither of which were appetizing. Neither was the tongue he shoved in my mouth. I pulled away.
    “Stop.”
    He kissed me again. I tried to squirm away, but he held on tight. “I said stop!”
    “Come on,” he muttered.
    “No!” I said as I pinched his side.
    “Ow!”
    He released me enough so I could literally shove him down on the couch and spring up. “I said no!”
    “Bitch!”
    “I may be a bitch, but at least I’m not a shitty thief like you. I’m outta here.” I started collecting my meager belongings, mostly clothes strewn around.
    “Good. Saves me the trouble of kicking you out. Just leave me the money from tonight, and get the fuck out.”
    I scoffed. “Hell no. I earned this money while you were drinking your weight in booze and getting turned down by someone’s grandmother. It’s mine.”
    He leapt up, face contorting in fury. “Give me that money, Anna.”
    “No way. I need it, I earned it, it’s mine.” I zipped up my suitcase and hoisted it from the kitchen table. “Nice knowing you.”
    I made it one step past him before his hand clamped on my forearm, and he spun me around. “Give me the damn money, Anna,” he growled.
    “Go to h—”
    Merde. I’d asked him not to bring the switchblade to the club, but of course he had. The moment that blade popped in his hand, my blood ran cold. Not good. Not good not at all. “Give me the money, putana .”
    My first instinct was to hand him the cash and run. But aside from the fact that without it I’d have to sleep on the street that night, I just didn’t want to. The scared little boy bullying me had no right to it. He had no right to threaten me. Who the hell did this bastard think he was? I glanced down at his hand, then at his angered expression. Mine went deeper. “You have three seconds to let go of my arm, or you’ll lose yours.”
    “What the fu—”
    He reacted to my knee going for his groin, releasing me but turning to deflect the blow. With only a split second for us to both adjust our tactics, he was almost faster than me, slashing the knife toward my chest. Just as it was about to make contact, I raised my palm and shouted, “ Lapsus !” as YaYa taught me. I’d never used the spell on a person before, so I gasped as Dario literally flew across the room, whacking his head against the corner of the cabinet then collapsing to the floor. His eyes remained shut the ten seconds I stood stock still, just staring as the blood began to pool around his head.
    I’d killed him.
    No, his chest slowly moved up and down but not in a steady pace. My mind ran so