By Colleen Foley
My fists made eccentric patterns of bruise and blood on her body. I broke one bone for each remembered moment of our history.
blow seemed to snuff her spell building like a candle. Screams became
whimpers whenever she tried to cast. At first, it was like hitting oak.
But each time, I felt a new surge of energy, God knows where from, to
Fist in her hair, I yanked her to her feet in
front of me and bit down on the side of her throat. Seth stood before
us, still chanting. I didn’t care.