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Elena slipped the flimsy shoe back on her right foot and swore to make a fur coat out of the first fox to cross her path. She would never be able to grow that toe back, no matter how many concoctions she came up with.
The heart had a tendency to harden off after being forced to survive inside a life two sizes too small, deprived of the oxygen of dreams.
He likened it to obeying the same instinct that warned one not to pick up a scorpion by the tail. Her allure held hints of danger, which, if he were honest with himself, was part of the attraction, but the reasonable side of his brain knew better from experience.
It’s merely magic. Or, if you prefer one of your scientific terms, you’re getting a glimpse of what’s found at the end of the spectrum, outside the range of what your mortal eye can see.”
How could something exist if I can’t see it? That, I believe, is the essence of what you’re wrestling with, monsieur. And the answer is in the cheese.”
She understood the mind exploring the thrill of the risk, but to leap to the act? A warning crawled up her back one joint at a time to perch on her collarbone.
Elena had been cursed, stripped of her powers, and accused of murder, but she’d never been violated so deeply it left a void empty of hope.
She rubbed the stone in her pocket and uttered the quick rousing spell, delivering him from a sleeping nightmare and into a waking one.
He decided then he must have transcended into hallucination, because there was no other explanation for seeing a harlequin imp toting three glinting axes in her hands while lurking inside a world-class wine cellar.
A trail of smoke seeped in through a tiny crack in the cellar’s foundation, a passageway only a spider ought to know of.
But then I expected you’d still be hopping around your swamp, plucking flies out of the air with your tongue. Or giving some stray dog indigestion by now.”
