Spell-Weaver Read Online Free

feverish and sick. Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe I’ve finally lost my shit.
    Vic’s cell rang and she thought of her own sitting on the desk in her purse back at the shop. What had she been thinking, leaving without her purse? She hadn’t been thinking. Her brain had been totally and completely jammed up on what had just gone down. Dyami on the floor, blood seeping into his shirt, the look of pure agony on his face. His features distorted. That must have been what she’d seen—just his reaction to the pain from being attacked.
    â€œYa, I have Summer in the car with me. The beas…him too.” Vic cursed and the car jerked to the side, swaying Summer in her seat. “I can’t talk right now, I’m driving. You’re going to need to meet us. There’s a complication.” He paused, lowered his voice. “She’s been marked. We’re going to have to take care of that first.”
    Summer jolted. Marked? Take care of what first? Her vision wavered, the urge to push everything away and slip into complete denial was so tempting. This had to be a dream. It was too surreal. Vic was her boyfriend. She’d known him for two months. He was charismatic, charming, kind. He was not a murderer. Throwing blades like an expert was not something she normally screened boyfriends for. She hadn’t even known he carried a weapon.
    â€œHe’s subdued, tied up in the back. I couldn’t take care of it in public!” he roared. “What would you have me do exactly, take him out and leave him there?”
    Take him out? She shot another look at Dy. There was nothing threatening back there. Just a man. Someone she’d probably unwittingly dragged into this twisted situation. How was she supposed to know her boyfriend was psychotic? Was Vic going to take care of her the way he’d taken care of Dy? She swallowed tears, fighting to remain stoic. Her ears rang as her blood pumped hard and fast, her heart ramping to the point of pain. Dy wasn’t just a man though, was he? Dy was the drummer for one of the biggest shows in town. Someone would come looking for him.
    A plan filtered into her brain. She needed to run. Get out of the car, find a phone and call for help. A famous rock star had just been stabbed and kidnapped. The media would be all over that and so would the police. She steadied herself, her resolve building as she settled on her hasty plan.
    Vic slowed the car at a stop sign, though she knew he wouldn’t halt, as he hadn’t for any of the others they’d crossed. Summer didn’t hesitate. Yanking on the door handle and pushing hard, she braced herself for impact. Except all she felt was a strong tug back before Vic had her throat between his biceps and forearm, dragging her down. She stared up at him, her head on his lap. How she’d gotten there so quickly wasn’t entirely clear.
    â€œYou don’t actually think I’m gonna let you bolt, do ya?” He flashed one of his charming smiles, the kind of smile that used to make her melt. “Nah ah, you’re mine, Summer. Mine. ” He kept her down with a firm hand on her shoulder, bringing his fingers to her forehead. “It’s time you had a little nap too, I think. Just ’til we get this all sorted.”
    She came out of sleep gradually. Waves of awareness brought her back to reality. She didn’t want to wake up, not really. She was having the most amazing dream about Dyami—one with him under her and both of them naked. The dream was drawing her back, pulling her consciousness away once again. And then she curled her legs up, nestled into the pillow, sighed deeply.
    Just a few more minutes .
    A heartbeat passed, then another.
    Pillow?
    Her brain snapped online. She was on a bed, unrestrained and feeling very groggy, like she’d been drugged, but not so out of it that she didn’t remember everything that had happened. Dyami. Stabbed. She needed to