Free Swamp Magic (Crimson Romance) by Bobbi Romans Page B

with, but the evil bitch herself.
    How many others shared his fate? Were there only a few, or were there hundreds of others like him? Held captive for her own perverse sexual pleasures? After all this time, surely he would have encountered more than just Damien, the only other one like him he’d ever encountered, if there were.
    A bright orb appeared and without warning burst into a bright, blinding flare. When his nocturnal sight adjusted to the sudden intrusion, Octavia stood before him, and she wasn’t a happy camper.
    “Well, smile while you can, my love, for it will be short-lived. I’ve left you a gift in the southeastern end of Bog’s End. One I’m sure you’ll enjoy.” With her parting shot, she vanished. Simply vanished, in what appeared to be a puff of red smoke.
    Her whispered promise oozed revenge, and he knew without a doubt she’d killed yet another innocent to prolong her worthless, miserable life. She loved nothing more than to flaunt her powers and, more to the point, her power of immortality. For that alone kept him bound to her, never to be free to go on to his family and beg their forgiveness. If he could even gain entrance into heaven. He knew, for the crimes he’d committed, he shouldn’t be. No honorable or worthy man should even think to ask forgiveness for such a heinous crime as forsaking one’s own wife for the lust of another. He hadn’t meant to follow the devious Octavia that night. But when he’d caught sight of the beautiful woman, wandering about when looking for the children, he’d assumed the woman lost herself. But the way she’d toyed with him. Luring him, flirting as she had … he’d become enchanted and lost track of time. Didn’t matter he’d been ensnared by a spell, he should have never followed in the first place.
    A roar soared past his lips as hate, anger, and regret seethed from within at the very prospect of having to obey her command. After what he’d done to her, through no fault of his own, he knew what waited would be bad. He would be punished for acting out, though it had been her spell that caused it. Worse, he would not reap the physical end of her torture. No — instead she would force him to bear witness to her destruction of someone else.

Chapter Twelve
    Beth came to with a pounding headache and no real recollection of anything short of the vague memory of a crash and dragging herself out of the swamp.
    What the hell had she missed, between sighing in relief on the muddy bank she’d crawled onto and now? Peering downward, she realized she lay on a cold, wooden floor clad only in her underthings and an over-sized T-shirt. Her hands and arms were bound above her head to something resembling a wrought iron towel hook. She would have screamed her anger, frustration, and pain, but damned hellfire, she’d been gagged. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She fought the panicked urge to begin gulping in air. Figured if she did while gagged, she’d hyperventilate — the last
thing she needed to add to her
oh, shit,
list right about now.
    Right then the she-devil came into view, starting from the bottom of a shimmery black silken train to wind upwards to a shapely yet slim pair of hips. Beth craned her neck to look farther, her gaze skimming past tits to the face of pure evil.
    If not for the stone-cold look in the dark abyss of her eyes, Beth would have proclaimed her beautiful, exquisite even. Kind of like one of those fine porcelain dolls. Pretty, but damn well creepy as shit too.
    But those eyes. You couldn’t miss the evil lurking within them.
    “So, you’ve awoken. Took you long enough. I would ask how you feel, but your dreadful appearance speaks for itself, and it’s not as if you’re able to answer me, anyway.” The bitch shrugged as if Beth were an afterthought and nothing else. Her voice sounded like a cross between a purr and a hiss, with far more emphasis on the
hiss.
    “Damien, come to me,” she cooed in a singsong voice that