The Mafia CEO's Possession Contract
The witch smiled with absolute cynicism, her fingers moving up my shoulder until stopping right in the center of my bare chest.
“I'll just do a little blood magic trick, pup,” she responded, her eyes shining with a mystical glow. “Don't worry. It's not going to hurt more than it already does. I'm just going to boost what Silas's injections are doing to your hormones. I'm going to weave a bridge that distance cannot break.”
Without further words, Jasmine pressed both palms against my sternum. The physical contact was the trigger for a mystical explosion.
The witch closed her eyes and began to release chants in an ancient dialect, a rhythmic murmur that made the laboratory air turn freezing.