Bad Melody (Seven Deadly Sins #3)

Chapter Six: Sacred Blood

I watched in frozen horror as Claudette pulled out the dagger from Dante's side. It was small but wicked looking with a double edged blade that curved slightly. She held it with an air of an assassin who'd used it more than a few times to take out an unsuspecting enemy. Her face was triumphant as a small moan escaped my cold lips, but if she expected Dante to crumble or cry out in pain she was out of luck. Instead of doing either one of those very normal things, he only laughed with dark amusement.

That was different.

Claudette's smile faltered as he reached over and grabbed her wrist, keeping her from releasing her knife. The blade she held in her hand began to glow grey and black with his blood.

"You really do forget yourself, Claudette," he whispered.

Mesmerized, I stared as the blood ran down the short length of the blade towards the hilt in a supernatural rush until it made contact with the witch's skin. The instant his blood reached her pale hand she screamed.

A drop, the size less than one of my normal tears, stained her skin and spread as quickly as melted wax over the back of her left hand and down each finger. Dante released her even as her scream cut off mid-stream, the shock of what was happening starting to take effect. She raised her injured hand to her face, turning her palm inwards.

The contrast of her blackened hand against her pale skin was stark in its entirety. Her once red fingernails were now as pitch black as Dante's sword, the stain stopping just above her wrist. It was as if she'd put on a leather glove, only it was still her hand which made it so much worse. Unable to pull away from the sight, I watched as Claudette's hand spasmed and jerked open, causing her to drop her weapon to her feet with a loud clatter.

The sound broke whatever spell she'd been under. The witch's head whipped up and her face changed into something out of one of my childhood nightmares. Gone was the beauty of the silver screen and in its place was a monster; cracked ashen skin, hair the texture of a straw broom, eyes nothing but two hollowed pits. It was as if her eyeballs had been scooped out or sucked in, I couldn't tell which, but either way she was a hot mess.

Hearing my sharp intake of air Claudette's face wavered, like a patch of air over a sidewalk on a hot summer day. Instantly she was back to her stunning self. Well, almost. Her eyes were on fire.

Literally.

Red and yellow flames licked out of her eye sockets as they blazed with pure hatred from me to  Dante. Bending at the waist, she hugged her blackened hand to her chest, "What have you done to me?" she accused her voice high and shrill.

"Have you modernized so much you've forgotten the old ways?" he teased, circling around her bent form, his voice low and taunting as he continued, "Blood is sacred – even mine. Spill it at your peril, witch."

She shrieked and flew straight at him. He side-stepped her easily, though he kept one hand pressed to his wounded side. "Your laziness has made you stupid and sloppy, Claudette."

The witch crashed into the other side of the wooden bar just a few inches from where I still hid.

"Lanie, now!" Dante ordered

"That's our cue, doll face," he said without missing a beat.

The ghost grabbed my shoulder and instead of going through me, I felt the icy chill down my whole body.

"Wha..." Before I could even finish the word I was crouching outside in an alley. Lanie was nowhere in sight.

"Dammit!" I looked around trying to get my bearings. The sun had set far enough that I had no idea what time it was and since I didn't know my way around Columbia, I had no idea where that crazy poltergeist had zapped me to.