Page 30 of A Soul’s Curse (Fallen Souls #1)

It had been four whole days, and I was worried that Caspian may have reconsidered his deal. I had yet to hear from Gray, or the Syndicate, and it left my insides feeling like a shaken soda can, fizzing with nerves. I didn’t have a backup plan if Caspian’s meeting fell through.

I instead spent the time distracting myself by unpacking my things and getting my workspace in the basement set up.

The original owner was a craftsman, and the finished shop in the basement had been originally used for woodworking.

It had ventilation and everything, and thankfully didn’t need many changes.

There was a deep sink already installed that provided running water, the electrical had been upgraded to handle the heavy-duty machinery, and there was ample counter space for working and shelving for storage.

Little natural light shone in through the small basement windows, so most of my plants were scattered around the house upstairs, but the more stubborn ones were kept under grow lights so they could be thoughtfully cared for.

I adjusted the protective eyewear on my nose and sat on a rolling stool, hunched over a wooden bench.

To my left, a few old pots and pans were stacked next to a container of spoons and other mixing equipment.

To my right was my recipe spell book and a few glass vials with the ingredients I was currently using—fairy nectar, lemon balm, and two bottles of my own collected magic.

One was imbued into a batch of purified water, the other into refined sugar.

Ren wasn’t expecting me to make much money from my spell business, but I was determined to prove him wrong.

Now that I had no other job to occupy my time, I could dedicate my full attention to making new spells and perfecting the ones I already had.

I even had the scooter so I could make home deliveries.

A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped, causing me to spill some of the sugar onto the counter. My heart settled when I realized it was Ren.

“What are you making today?” He had spent a lot of his time here with me in the past few days, asking me questions about how my magic worked and the spells I was making.

I thought it would eventually become annoying, but I was usually so secretive about my magic that it actually felt refreshing to finally talk to someone about it.

He always asked if he could lend a hand, and even Ivy and Stella popped in from time to time to help.

“Well, I finished the first batch of anxiety tonics and teas. There’s some stress-reducing lollipops over there along with heartburn chocolates.

” I pointed to a wire rack off to my right.

“Energy gummies and focus candies are ready to go, and the herbs for the sleep tea are currently steeping. Now, I’m looking into death magic. ”

Ren frowned. “I don’t know a lot about running a business, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to kill your customers.”

I grinned mischievously. “Definitely not. But … after what happened at the museum and the attack at the inn, I just thought … I wanted to see if I could create something that could protect you and the others in case something like that happens again. What if Archie’s viper bit you and I wasn’t there to help?

What if we hadn’t shown up at the inn and Tara followed through with her attack?

I want to create something that will at least buy you some time to escape or until I can get to you and help. ”

My cheeks blanched. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some type of connection between me and Ren forming, an invisible thread that constantly pulled us together.

In the short amount of time I had known the demon, I had grown fond of him—and the more time I spent with him, the more those feelings began morphing into something more than just caring for a friend.

We had fallen asleep together again last night, and even if it was only to provide him with my magic, I couldn’t ignore the deep, aching comfort that came with being wrapped in his arms. I might have just gotten out of a messy relationship, and I didn’t know if I was ready to jump right into another one, but I definitely hoped to explore the synergy between us at some point.

The question was … did he want that as well? Ren guarded his feelings closely, rarely expressing them through words. But it was much easier to pick up on what he was feeling through his actions. I just couldn’t tell if he cared about me as a friend … or something more.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Theo.

I can handle myself. Stella, well, I don’t know where she learned to fight, but she certainly can.

And Ivy can summon a number of people to get her out of a tricky situation.

You, though … you rely too much on your weak sign language magic and, while I know you don’t want to actually kill anyone, your dominant magic capabilities are only brushing the surface.

When you’re facing an enemy like the Syndicate, you can’t rely on making someone slip and fall or giving them a tummy ache. ”

“And what are you suggesting, exactly?” I pushed myself away from the table, removing my goggles and swiveling on the stool until I faced Ren.

There was sincerity etched into the crinkle of his eyes, but no lines around his mouth—the man constantly worried but never enjoyed a laugh.

I hoped that one day I could be the one to change that.

Ren had two books tucked under his arm. One was the grimoire, and he handed me the other one.

It was a thin book with a dark green cloth cover.

“You’re on the right track, but don’t create something for me .

Create it for yourself. I found this the other day on James’s bookshelf.

It’s a book on poisons. Figures, the guy would have something like this.

But it might be helpful for you. There are a lot of spells here.

Some are lethal, but there are others that can do things like paralyze or disorient.

Knowing how your magic works, I bet you could break them down and modify them to exactly how you want them to act.

Also, if you’ll allow me, I’d … I’d like to teach you a few basic self defense moves.

” The reddish tone of his skin deepened to a darker shade of red.

I ran my fingers over the rough surface of the book cover.

Whether or not Ren’s feelings were romantic, he did care about me.

Yesterday, he stopped by with new burners when he noticed the day before I was struggling to get my ancient things to heat up.

Then a toaster oven appeared when he saw me running back and forth up the stairs to the kitchen to use the oven.

Even some of my herbs and magic ingredients had been suspiciously restocked.

“Okay,” I told him. I met his vibrant maroon eyes straight-on and offered him a smile bright with excitement.

He was right in that I could do so much more with my magic, but what I was more interested in was Ren training me.

It meant I’d get to spend more time with him, and there would certainly be close, physical contact between us.

It was the perfect opportunity to see how comfortable he really felt around me.

“I’ve never had to fight anyone before, never needed to strengthen my magic or do anything with it more than ease a headache or something.

But I don’t want to be useless, and I certainly don’t want to be a liability to anyone.

So yeah, teach me something. How about right now? ”

“Now?” Ren’s nerves suddenly surfaced, with his hand scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah. Something … easy—that even a weakling like me can pick up quickly.”

“You’re not weak,” Ren mumbled, then sighed a heavy breath before putting the grimoire down on a nearby table. I put my book on top of his and waited for his instruction. “Okay fine. Hit me.”

“Hit you? Okay, but—”

“Humor me, Theo. Trust me, it’s not going to hurt. I’ll be surprised if you could even land a hit.”

That got me riled up. I huffed, grunting as I pulled back my fist and took a swing at his face. He stepped to the side, letting my momentum carry me forward until I stumbled off balance and he slammed me to the ground.

“Ow.” I rubbed my wrists, the impact straining them as they absorbed the fall. Ren held out his hand to help me up.

“You’re smaller and less experienced than most people you’ll encounter. You won’t overpower them with your strength or skills. Use your momentum against them. Try again.”

“Ren, this is pointless. I’ll never—” I launched one of my weak sign language spells to throw him off balance.

I expected him to pitch to the side, but he dropped to his knees—which made my attempted punch even more awkward.

Instead of landing a hit, I collided into him, my fist swiping at air but my groin smashing into his face.

We both tangled and went down together, me on top of him.

Straddling him, my legs on either side of his shoulders, I pushed myself up on my hands so I hovered over his face.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Ren! That … didn’t go how I planned. ”

Ren's usually sharp features froze in wide-eyed panic as he had a full frontal view of my crotch practically rubbing against his face.

His lips were parted slightly, as if words had abandoned him, and the color drained from his face, leaving his usually warm complexion ashen.

He looked like a cornered animal, every muscle tense, trapped between the urge to fight or flee but too stunned to do either.

I should have pushed myself off him, but the selfish part of me wanted to take advantage of the situation. Steadying myself on top of Ren, I shimmed myself further down his body so my dick wasn’t suffocating him, and leaned forward so my face was hovering right above his.