Always Practice Safe Hex (Stay a Spell, #4)

by Juliette Cross

“Are you the spiderman?” I asked, our breaths mingling, mouths inches apart. “No, Lavinia.” He shook his head then dipped closer to me. I was sure he would kiss me, but he skimmed his nose along my jaw until his lips brushed my ear. “You are,” he grated, biting my lobe. “And I’m so fucking caught in your web.”

The thing about grims was that our inner demons weren’t simply psychological struggles or conflicting emotions. They were sentient creatures, given life by our ancestral curse. Not just dark magic, but black magic. Blood magic. It was sealed to our souls by our twisted, malevolent forefather and the things he’d done. The unbreakable spells he’d cast.

“Are you okay?” That’s when I noticed I was crying. I laughed and wiped the back of my hand across my cheek. “Yeah. I know I’m weird, but I tend to cry when I’m really happy.” His small smile was so tender, so dear. He lifted a hand and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “What do you do when you’re sad?” “I get angry and want to break things.” “What about when you’re angry?” “I bake something chocolate?”