Read Online Split - Coffin Nails MC (Contemporary New Adult Erotic Dark Romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 7) by Miss Merikan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Miss Merikan
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spells she wanted to pass on to Asty, but
most of all, she had been focused on one ritual—one that could bring back
Bell’s soul and have it reborn in the body of a baby. Several conditions had to
be met.
The bearer of the baby needed to share
blood with the one they wanted to bring back, which made Asty the sole
candidate, and she was certain that was what her mother had tried to tell her
when she had given Asty the journals on her deathbed. But it wasn’t enough to
present the devil with the baby, an empty vessel to pour a dead man’s soul
into. After its birth, there needed to be a trade. Asty had to go to hell in
Bell’s place. Saying she was “fine” with it wouldn’t tell the whole story. It
was just something that needed to be done, and her life was the best she could
offer. If the trade were completed, according to her mother’s journals, Asty
would stay in a part of hell guarded by demons, a place for the enlightened,
where her mother would be awaiting her, and where her father and brother would
arrive eventually.
It made sense. It wasn’t as if she could
add much value to the world the way she was now. Earth seemed more like
purgatory for sins she hadn’t committed than anything else. She loved making
things from scratch, so Dad even got the guys from the club to build her a candle-making
shed by the house. She was quite good with hair and makeup and she liked
reading, but none of these things had any true purpose. None of them had her
dad interested the way her mom was. He’d already lost his wife, so if Asty
could, she would give her life this one meaning—bringing Bell back to life.
She took a shuddery breath and dumped the
tests into the trashcan. The hot bath was ready for her, smelling of ginger and
herbs meant to soak into her and fuel the baby growing inside her. Slowly, she
put her feet into the shallow water and rested against the sloping back of the
tub, letting her skin adjust to the intense heat. Her heart was drumming so hard
she felt as if her breasts were trembling from the impact of it as she
whispered her prayers, looking into the white ceiling above. The ritual dagger
was at an arm’s length, sharpened just a few hours ago and ready to be used.
But as her back became numb to the temperature it was immersed in, her front
seemed hypersensitive, vulnerable. And when she looked at the lines she had
drawn on her stomach earlier, she couldn’t help but tense up in fear. There
were so many of them in the symbol of the demon she’d been named after, and for
the good of the baby, she needed to make the drawing permanent.
This was the next step. To create
Astaroth’s seal on her belly once she knew she was in fact pregnant. The cuts
didn’t have to be deep, but they needed to leave scars, even if small ones.
Asty took a few more deep breaths and began cutting along the marks. Lines,
dots, a pentagram with three circles around it. The task made her hiss, and
droplets of blood spilled down her sides and into the water. From now on, she’d
need to drink five drops of blood from the seal every day. She only noticed by
the end of the cutting that she was panting, and sweat beaded on her face. But
she didn’t cry. Pain couldn’t make her cry the way losing her loved ones did.
She slowly moved her index finger along the
round line encircling her navel and gathered the first drop. It melted in her
mouth as if it belonged there. Salty, with a hint of sweetness, it fueled the
agitation coursing through Asty’s body. Once she drank five drops, she slowly
gathered some water into her hands and poured it down on the open cuts. It
stung, and Asty winced, watching the red layer disperse from her skin,
revealing the symmetrical shape that would now protect the baby and aid its
transformation. Some of the lines were deeper than others were, but she didn’t
really care much. She could always cut her skin again if some of the shallower
scars started disappearing as they healed. It was done. She was
most of all, she had been focused on one ritual—one that could bring back
Bell’s soul and have it reborn in the body of a baby. Several conditions had to
be met.
The bearer of the baby needed to share
blood with the one they wanted to bring back, which made Asty the sole
candidate, and she was certain that was what her mother had tried to tell her
when she had given Asty the journals on her deathbed. But it wasn’t enough to
present the devil with the baby, an empty vessel to pour a dead man’s soul
into. After its birth, there needed to be a trade. Asty had to go to hell in
Bell’s place. Saying she was “fine” with it wouldn’t tell the whole story. It
was just something that needed to be done, and her life was the best she could
offer. If the trade were completed, according to her mother’s journals, Asty
would stay in a part of hell guarded by demons, a place for the enlightened,
where her mother would be awaiting her, and where her father and brother would
arrive eventually.
It made sense. It wasn’t as if she could
add much value to the world the way she was now. Earth seemed more like
purgatory for sins she hadn’t committed than anything else. She loved making
things from scratch, so Dad even got the guys from the club to build her a candle-making
shed by the house. She was quite good with hair and makeup and she liked
reading, but none of these things had any true purpose. None of them had her
dad interested the way her mom was. He’d already lost his wife, so if Asty
could, she would give her life this one meaning—bringing Bell back to life.
She took a shuddery breath and dumped the
tests into the trashcan. The hot bath was ready for her, smelling of ginger and
herbs meant to soak into her and fuel the baby growing inside her. Slowly, she
put her feet into the shallow water and rested against the sloping back of the
tub, letting her skin adjust to the intense heat. Her heart was drumming so hard
she felt as if her breasts were trembling from the impact of it as she
whispered her prayers, looking into the white ceiling above. The ritual dagger
was at an arm’s length, sharpened just a few hours ago and ready to be used.
But as her back became numb to the temperature it was immersed in, her front
seemed hypersensitive, vulnerable. And when she looked at the lines she had
drawn on her stomach earlier, she couldn’t help but tense up in fear. There
were so many of them in the symbol of the demon she’d been named after, and for
the good of the baby, she needed to make the drawing permanent.
This was the next step. To create
Astaroth’s seal on her belly once she knew she was in fact pregnant. The cuts
didn’t have to be deep, but they needed to leave scars, even if small ones.
Asty took a few more deep breaths and began cutting along the marks. Lines,
dots, a pentagram with three circles around it. The task made her hiss, and
droplets of blood spilled down her sides and into the water. From now on, she’d
need to drink five drops of blood from the seal every day. She only noticed by
the end of the cutting that she was panting, and sweat beaded on her face. But
she didn’t cry. Pain couldn’t make her cry the way losing her loved ones did.
She slowly moved her index finger along the
round line encircling her navel and gathered the first drop. It melted in her
mouth as if it belonged there. Salty, with a hint of sweetness, it fueled the
agitation coursing through Asty’s body. Once she drank five drops, she slowly
gathered some water into her hands and poured it down on the open cuts. It
stung, and Asty winced, watching the red layer disperse from her skin,
revealing the symmetrical shape that would now protect the baby and aid its
transformation. Some of the lines were deeper than others were, but she didn’t
really care much. She could always cut her skin again if some of the shallower
scars started disappearing as they healed. It was done. She was
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