Angel of my Dark Heart [Last Days 1.5]

Chapter 11-a

Ireland

Tara's high temperature lowered to a human-like one as soon as her father left. Her demonic features also vanished at the same time. She turned to Marcus, and tears rolled down her cheeks in seconds as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the ground. The grass beneath her was a bit scorched by her earlier show of power. Much like her heart.

Her father's visit had opened a Pandora's box inside her, freeing the worst of her memories. Nightmares she didn't feel capable of locking away this time.

"A witch's heart may be made of stone, but it can break just as with any other creature." Tara closed her eyes as the image of her mother's last moments continued to assault her mind.

"I'm sorry, Tary," Marcus whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder and offering her his free one. "I didn't know seeing him would bring you so much pain. I wouldn't have made a deal with him otherwise."

She lifted her ambers filled with sorrow to him and put her hand inside his, letting him help her to her feet.

"Will you tell me what happened between you two?"

"I don't think I can tell you, but I can show you." Tara offered with a voice roughened by tears. Her hands didn't wait for a reply, they grabbed the sides of his head before she rose on her tiptoes to touch their foreheads together.

Up close, his irises looked more like light coffee than chocolate brown.

Unlike the time she saw his memories, the witch eased herself into an emotional connection with Marcus and then pushed all her turmoil toward him. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes in seconds, and he tried to step away, but she held on to him fast, speaking softly, "Don't fight them. Feeling my emotions will smoothen the connection."

"Tara, all this pain-"

"Are you chickening out?"

"No." The man narrowed his dark eyes and, grabbing her chin, kissed his witch. Her pain hit him again, this time with the force of a speeding cargo truck. He squeezed his eyes shut, and, fighting his instincts, let everything in.

When the pain finally abated, he opened his eyes. Darkness had swallowed him. It seemed that happened a lot to him lately.

I may have to start using night googles.

"And cover those yummy Ferrero Rocher?" Tara's voice echoed before a translucent version of her stood before him. Beside his ghostly girlfriend hovered the watery image of a dark, creepy forest.

"Are you making jokes now?" Marcus asked with a pained expression.

"You are contagious."

"Oh God, please stop. I know I'm bad, ok? Just stop."

She giggled just like she used to back when they lived together, and then turned deadly serious, pointing at the creepy forest. "Here is my most painful memory and not only the reason behind my hatred toward my dad but also of why I hadn't used my magic in over four hundred years."

He stared at the landscape before him. A shiver went down his spine at how the shadow form of the trees seemed to sway with a breeze. Foreboding was the word that came to mind, and yet his hand reached for the image as if it showed him a mesmerizing treasure. The surface rippled with the action.

Eyes on his wet fingers, he rubbed them together and asked, "Is this water?"

"Water is a good medium for magic." Translucent Tara smiled at his curiosity. "Go on. Pass through the mirror, and you'll see everything you wish to know."

With one more glance at his girlfriend, Marcus stepped into the creepy forest. He shivered as darkness and a bit of fog enveloped him instantly. Feeling anxiety in his heart, his feet started walking on his own, seemingly knowing the way.

A wolf howled nearby, and his heartbeats increased. Nonetheless, he somehow knew the fright slowly taking hold of his body wasn't because of the beast. It had to do with whoever or whatever he was walking toward.

An owl hooted eerily, and another wolf howled, or was it the same?

Cold dread ran down his back, making his heart want to jump out his throat. The Witching Hour was near. Feeling tears wet his cheeks, his feet transitioned from brisk steps to a full run.

From where did all this knowledge come from? More importantly, what the fuck was the Witching Hour? Could he be inside Tara's body living all her memories alongside her?

But before he could confirm his theory, he broke into a clearing, stopping a step away from breaking inside a circle made of bones ... animal and human bones. The large circle had about four meters in diameter, and five golden plates were evenly placed on it, making a five-pointed star. Inside four of the plates rested human hearts, still juicy and bloody.

Marcus grimaced inwardly but the owner of the body he was tagging along in merely shifted its gaze to the center of the circle, where a naked woman of long, shiny red hair hovered between the legs of a man.

She was...

Marcus could have blushed at the scene if he had any control over the body of his girlfriend.

The woman was giving a blowjob to the male under her, one he clearly didn't want because he trashed over the stone altar, pulling taut the ropes attached to metal hoops at the altar's sides. The redhead continued heedless to her victim, who begged her to stop in an old form of English. Moments later, the man groaned, muscles rigid with an obvious orgasm, and the woman leaned away, righting herself. Lifting her hands, the cum was pulled upwards, forming a small ball that hovered in midair before floating down into a wooden deep plate that the woman made appear from thin air.

Marcus didn't want to know what the redhead planned to do with fresh semen, but his host was completely entranced by the ritual, her previous fear all forgotten, so he had no choice except to keep watching.