Page 66 of Bewitching Her Monsters
I realize too late that I should step back.
Before I can react, a hand reaches out from the open door and yanks me inside.
I’m pushed against the wall. The wind is knocked out of me with the force of it. Whoever is attacking me is strong.
I stop panicking and see who my attacker is. I’m in shock.
“Jade?”
She’s holding me against the wall with one hand fisted in my shirt’s collar.
I quickly glance down, and she isn’t holding a gun in the other hand. Thank fuck.
“Nope. Guess again,” she answers in a deeper, more combative tone. And a faint accent that I recognize.
“Osen?” I grab her wrist, but not tight enough to hurt her human flesh. “Let go of me!” I snap because the longer he holds his aggression, the more my beast wants to be unleashed. Maybe that’s what he wants. “I won’t hurt Jade,” I promise. “So stop provoking me, dickwad.”
He lets me go with a shove, turns away, and paces the room. “This witch is somehow sifting through my memories, searching for names and faces of the people who are working to eliminate the ASO. She’s a damned spy, and I’m trapped inside her.”
“I don’t think she realizes the dreams are real… that they are your memories.”
“It’s all an act,” he says with certainty.
The confidence in his answer makes my heart drop into the acid pit of my stomach. Has he seen Jade’s mind and uncovered her innocence as a lie?
But I refuse to believe that about her.
If it’s true, she’s dead. Not by my hand. I could no longer do the deed. But Calder has been itching for a reason. He would snap her neck in a heartbeat.
“How do you know it’s an act?” I ask. “What proof do you have?”
“It’s obvious!” he shouts, pulling on her long, silver-threaded hair in angst. “She ensnared my soul. I can’t move on. I can’t rest. No, she makes me relive all my memories—all my failures.”
It sounds more like his own guilt is making him relive his past. I don’t see the kindhearted woman I know doing that to him… not on purpose, at least.
“I don’t think she means to keep your soul. She’s been distressed about what she considers to be dreams.”
“She’s a witch! That’s all we need to know.” He charges at me and gets in my face. With his spirit invading her entirely, I can almost see his masculine features overlaid on hers.
He is the most attractive and charming man I’ve ever known, but he now is downright demented. He was always obsessive… but now?
My heart aches for his condition, but he’s not sane. And I won’t have him hurting her or convincing the other guys to hurt her.
“Kill her so I can be free,” he begs of me. “You’ll be safe.”
“She may be a witch, but she’s not my enemy.” I hold my hands up in surrender so he knows that I don’t intend to hurt Jade.
“You really care about her, don’t you?” Osen steps back, disgust written all over her face. “Enough to betray me? Me?!”
“I don’t want her hurt,” I agree, my voice soft.
“Even if she wants to kill us?” he asks.
Flint’s voice rumbles from the open door. “We don’t know that she has any ill intent. She doesn’t feel like a threat to me. I would sense that much.”
Osen huffs and falls back on the couch, sighing with defeat, giving up the fight a bit. We all know Flint’s intuition about threats supersedes all of our senses, even Maxum’s. It’s built into a gargoyle’s basic and primal nature.
Jade’s hand rubs her face in a very Osen way. He grumbles, “You sure, Flint?”
