Can we all shut the hell up for a bloody minute? Quinn said. I've got a sodding migraine the size of Mt. Everest.
Quinn was kicked back in a chair with his feet up on the table and his eyes closed. It looked like he was asleep, but he had been meditating and building up magical energies. He didn't think he'd be able to call upon any of the Octessence for spells if this went south, so he was building up the energies from England and the universe. Here on English soil and at Stonehenge he was at his most powerful, but it also gave him a killer migraine at the same time.
The voices inside of head made it hurt more. Especially the one woman's. It sounded almost as shrill as a banshee's scream when coupled with the migraine. The blond's wasn't so bad.
I have a piece of a page of the Darkhold. Half a sheet actually. It makes a great coaster on my nightstand.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
