A Kiss of Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page B

the term ritual, Ms. Phelps? Why didn’t you say spell?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œYou do know,” I said. “You’re not a practitioner. I don’t think you’d use the term ritual without a reason. Just think for a minute. Why that word?”
    She thought about it, eyes staring into space, seeing nothing, tiny frown lines between her eyebrows. She blinked and looked at me. “I heard him talking on the phone one night.” She looked down, then up, defiant again, and I knew she didn’t like what she was about to say. “He’d tied me to the bed, but he’d left the door open a little. I could hear him talking. He said, ‘The ritual will be good tonight,’ then his voice dropped too low for me to hear, then he said, ‘The untrained ones give it up so easily.’ ” She looked at me. “I wasn’t a virgin when we met. I was . . . experienced. Before him, I thought I was good in bed.”
    â€œWhat makes you think you’re not?” I asked.
    â€œHe told me that I wasn’t good enough at straight sex to satisfy him, that he needed the abuse to spice it up, so he wouldn’t be bored.” She tried to stay defiant and failed. The hurt showed in her eyes.
    â€œWere you in love with him?” I tried to make the question gentle.
    â€œWhat difference does that make?”
    Frances took her hand, held it in her lap. “It’s all right, Naomi. They’re going to help us.”
    â€œI don’t see what love has to do with any of this,” she said.
    â€œIf you love him, then it will be harder to free you of his influence, that’s all,” I said.
    She didn’t seem to notice that I’d changed loved to love. She answered the question. “I thought I loved him.”
    â€œDo you still love him?” I hated having to ask, but we needed to know.
    She gripped the other woman’s small hand in both of hers, knuckles whitening with the strength of her grip. The tears finally slid down her face. “I don’t love him, but . . .” she had to take a few deep breaths before she could finish, “but if I see him, and he asks for sex, I can’t seem to say no. Even when it’s awful and he’s hurt me, the actual sex is still better than anything I’ve ever felt before. I can say no over the phone, but if he shows up, I let him . . . I mean, I fight if he’s beating me, but if it’s during sex . . . it gets all confused.”
    Frances stood, moving behind the other woman’s chair, spreading the afghan over both of them while she hugged her from behind. She made soothing noises, kissing the top of her head like you’d do with a child.
    â€œHave you been hiding from him?” I asked.
    She nodded. “I have, but Frances . . . He can find her no matter where she is.”
    â€œHe follows the spell,” I said.
    Both women nodded as if they’d figured that much out for themselves. “But I’ve hidden from him. I moved out of my apartment.”
    â€œI’m surprised he didn’t hunt for you,” I said.
    â€œThe building is warded,” she said.
    I widened eyes at that. For a building to be warded, not just an apartment but the entire building, meant that the protective spells had to be put into the foundation of the building. The wards had to be poured with the concrete, riveted into place with the steel beams. It took a coven of witches, or several covens. No single practitioner could do it. It was not a cheap process. Only the most expensive high-rises or homes could boast of it.
    â€œWhat do you do for a living, Ms. Phelps?” Jeremy asked, because I think that he, like me, had actually not expected the two women to be able to meet our fee. We had enough money in the bank under the agency’s account and in our own accounts so we could do charity work from time to time. We didn’t make a habit of it, but some cases