Xandros stood in demon form, his snakelike black leather hide wrapped tight around his massive frame. His obsidian horns scraped the ceiling, and his five-inch claws gleamed in the light. The moment he realized Zen and I had arrived, he turned his glowing red eyes to us and smiled, exposing his deadly teeth.
“It’s time for your revenge,” Zen said as he pulled the Demonheart’s box from my pocket. With a simple phrase, the wood flared ice blue, then turned to ash in his hand, exposing the remains of the former demon king.
Xandros’ eyes narrowed, and he roared in anger or triumph—it was impossible to tell.
Zen began chanting something under his breath, and I felt the words as if they were my own, joining in with him as his voice grew louder. Fire began to encircle Xandros’ feet, and he bellowed yet again. The plan was working, and that dark sense of satisfaction I’d craved swelled in my chest where my soul had once been.
But before the fire could trap him, Xandros shot forward through the orange flames licking at his hide—through Ivy’s shield, too—and grabbed Petal around the throat. He hauled her through the blazing fire and plastered her against his chest as her skirt slowly turned to ash and the acrid stench of burning flesh permeated the air. Her anguished screams pulled me from my trance, and I clapped my hand over Zen’s mouth, cutting off the spell. The fire scorching my youngest sister vanished—but her charred skin did not.
“You cannot kill me without your precious witch perishing at my side,” he said, clutching Petal’s lithe frame to his body, using her—the only Lily who had no magic to wield in her defense—as a shield. He stared at Zen and me, and I watched as Ivy and Hazel turned their confused gazes our way. Then I remembered that they could not see us—couldn’t understand what was happening.
I quickly snatched the amulet from around Zen’s neck and cast it through the door. The clatter of it hitting the wood floor in the library beyond preceded the gasps of my sister witches.
“I wondered when you’d come,” Xandros said. “I see you have the Demonheart...” His gaze drifted to Zen’s clenched fist, and his beastly smile grew larger still. “Give it to me and I’ll spare her.”
“Liar,” I snarled. “You’ll kill her the moment you have it.”
“Perhaps, but the way in which I’ll kill her—and you afterward—is still up for negotiation.” He dragged a claw along Petal’s cheek lightly, and I shuddered at the sight, memories of his torment assaulting my mind. And though he didn’t leave a mark on her, I knew it was a warning. The next time, he’d not be so gentle.
“Oleander,” Ivy called, my name both a question and a warning. She didn’t know what to do against the creature threatening the youngest of us, but it was clear that she would not stand idle and watch her be slain. I shot her a look that I hoped said to follow my lead.
“Are you sure you should entrust that to him?” Xandros asked, his eyes fixed on Zen’s hand. “It seems unwise, though you do excel at poor judgment, don’t you, Oleander?”
“He wants what I want,” I all but growled in reply.
The twinkle in Xandros’ ruby eyes made my hair stand on end. “Are you certain of that?” His grip on Petal tightened, and she winced. “I wonder what lies he told you to make you do something as foolish as helping him get the Demonheart. Did he tell you he wanted me dead?” Xandros mused. “I suppose that’s true enough...”
“We must end this now,” Zen whispered in my ear. The hand that held the Demonheart brushed against mine, and I felt its magic flare on contact. Without thinking, I stole it from his hand and took a step away, much to Xandros’ delight. His wicked smile exposed his gruesome canines, and all I could think of was how they’d slice through Petal’s delicate skin if I didn’t find a way to free her.
“Tell me, Oleander, what did Zenophrotesian say when he came to you?”
“He’s stalling,” Zen rasped, his voice low and strained and desperate. I dared a glance at him, and the tension in his brow did little to settle my nerves. Xandros might very well have been stalling, but we couldn’t risk an attack on him while he held Petal prisoner. I’d never forgive myself if she died because of my actions.
Neither would the other Lilies—provided any of us survived to mourn her.
“He told me he didn’t want another demon king,” I said, taking slow, measured steps toward where Ivy stood, her tornado shield now gone. The weight of Zen’s stare landed heavily on my profile. “And he said that I could not kill you alone—that only together could we destroy you, just like the demon king.”
“Did he, now?” Xandros said, turning his attention to Zen. “Is that all he said?” My lack of response made him laugh. “He always was the better liar.”
“I did not lie—”
“Perhaps not, but you didn’t tell her the full truth, either, did you?” Xandros argued. “The truth about why he needs your help…”
“He needs me because killing you requires a demon and the most powerful Daughter of Fire in existence,” I said as I stared down the being I hated more than anything in the world. “And that’s me.”
Xandros didn’t falter. Didn’t cower. Didn’t so much as furrow a brow at my reply. Instead, he laughed. His shoulders shook, and Petal bounced in the air as his amusement at my words hit a fever pitch.
“Oh, how I wish I had your gift with words, Zenophrotesian—your ability to twist the truth until it no longer resembles it at all and yet still is somehow not a lie.” Zen went eerily still beside me. “Your power has nothing to do with why he needs you, but who and what you are most certainly does…” Any hint of humor Xandros had found in the situation fell away in an instant, leaving little more than a cornered, feral being in its wake. “Your mother understood that all too well, Oleander. That’s why she did all she could to keep you a secret, though it seems she failed miserably,” he said, shifting his gaze to the demon at my side. “Isn’t that right, Zenophrotesian?” Fear crept up my spine as the Demonheart in my hand flared to life, a sign and a warning all in one. “Did you never wonder why your mother taught you to hate demons as ferociously as she did?”
No. I hadn’t. It was something that had been ingrained in me from such a young age that I had never questioned it. And, really, was it so strange a thing to caution a young witch about? To beware of a being that could kill you—steal your soul? But what I had never considered in all her teachings was how she had known this to be true.
“Tell me something, Oleander: did Zenophrotesian, in all his candor, tell you how the former demon king fell? How he was defeated by a demon with the help of a powerful fire witch? One who had every reason to want him dead? She was all too willing to join forces with me to eliminate the threat that had ruined her—taken something from her she would not freely give…” Xandros dared a step closer, still shielded by Petal, whose silent tears streamed down her cheeks. “Your mother was such a stunning creature—it’s no wonder he could not resist her. He had to have her—"
“You lie!” Ivy snarled like a wild beast about to attack. “Every word out of your mouth is poison—”
“Is it?” he asked, turning those glowing red eyes to glare at the one who had challenged him. “Perhaps you should ask Oleander’s former coven why they turned her and her mother away. What their Daughter of Ether pulled from the memories of her mother. They’re dead now, of course. I killed them after they gave me what I needed to track your precious Oleander here to New York.” His hideous face slowly turned back to me. “They say there's nothing a mother won’t do to protect her child. Yours was no exception.”
The cold truth of his words slid down my spine like ice.
“She killed him so he could never hurt you, but in doing so, created a void in our realm that I sought to fill,” he explained as my body went numb. “But to do that, I needed to possess all of his essence—all the power of his line—and that requires the dead king’s heart and your soul…”
Powerlust flared in his crimson stare, and his claws bit into Petal’s flesh as his
need for the Demonheart possessed him.
“It took some time to find you and seduce you so that I could break you easily once I’d stolen you away to my realm, but your mother—your clever, problematic mother—found me out and paid the ultimate price in the end.” He turned that fiery gaze to the demon at my side and smiled. “I wonder if Zenophrotesian just got lucky finding you…or maybe he’s known all along. Curious that, with all his disclosure, he never thought to mention that you’re the bastard daughter of the former demon king.”
Time stopped for a fleeting moment while Xandros’ words assaulted my mind. Words I wanted to argue—wanted to refute. But something deep down inside of me, the part where vengeance and darkness lurked, flared to life in recognition of what I was loath to acknowledge. That there was a reason I’d fallen for not one but two demons, despite my better judgment the second time around. That my difficulty assimilating with the Lilies and my deep-seated bloodlust were not solely due to what had happened to me in the demon realm.
They were part of who I was.
My face must have betrayed that very thought, given the smug look of victory on Xandros’ face.
“But maybe Zenophrotesian was just waiting until you were bound to him to share that little secret,” he continued. “Maybe then he would have told you that, in possession of the Demonheart, you could have killed us both. That your bond with him was never truly necessary—for you. Because, by that time, it wouldn’t have mattered. He would have had you exactly where he wanted you.” Xandros’ smug smile was recognizable even in demon form. “This was never really about killing me, was it, Zenophrotesian?” he asked, daring a step closer with Petal in tow. ”You didn’t do it to stop there from being a king. You did it because you wanted to be the next to reign. That was your plan all along, was it not?”
Zen went rigid next to me, but I weathered Xandros’ comment, outwardly unfazed, because I’d known that was likely the case. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t hoped it wasn’t.
“You think that’s some big twist in the story?” I asked Xandros. “That I’m such a fool that I wouldn’t have considered that possibility? Because I did. It just didn’t outweigh my desire to see you dead.”
Xandros’ amusement fell as Zen leaned in closer. “Andy, we must end him—”
“I’m sure you’d like that,” Xandros said, lifting Petal off the floor, her blackened feet dangling like a doll’s, “because you, unlike Oleander, know that, the second you do, you’ll have everything you need to secure your position as king. The Demonheart,” he said as his eyes drifted to me, “and her soul.” Xandros paused to let his words settle upon me. “You always were such a scavenger, Zenophrotesian…too weak to do what needed to be done in the first place, but happy to swoop in and capitalize in the aftermath.” His words wedged their way into my mind and impaled my heart. One look at Zen’s face told me they were true. The Demonheart in my hand flared to life as my fear turned to anger. “All he has to do is kill me and claim your soul, Oleander. Once he has that, you’ll be of no use to him anymore. He’ll sever your bond and take the Demonheart. You’ll die, as you should have, and he’ll be the new king of our kind.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head, as though that could keep the rampant, devolving thoughts from my mind. “If he kills me, he’ll be exiled—he admitted as much.”
Xandros’ wicked amusement returned in an instant, and he leaned closer, his grotesque lips next to Petal’s ear. “But who would exile the king, I wonder…”
And there it was, a plan so beautiful in its simplicity that I could only marvel. Zen had played me for a fool masterfully, and I, blinded by my need for vengeance, had been all too happy to let him. I’d dropped my guard once we were bound, thinking his fate was too intertwined with mine for him to betray me, but the loophole was there and always had been, had I looked closely enough—had I considered that his exile wouldn’t be possible if he were king.
“Andy, please,” Zen said, his tone pleading as his hand brushed against mine. I jerked it away but didn’t move beyond that.
“He won’t kill me,” I said with confidence I wasn’t sure was warranted.
My reaction only served to send Xandros into a rage. His fist smashed the wall to his left, sending dust and debris flying through the room, and he crushed Petal against him so hard I could hear her ribs cracking one by one as her face slowly turned purple.
“You think he loves you?” he said with a sneer. “How quickly you’ve forgotten that I, too, sold you that same lie, and just as easily. Perhaps you’re right, though—maybe he won’t kill you. He’ll just hold you prisoner for eternity through your bond. He’s been so honest with you thus far, maybe you should just ask him. See if he’s suddenly willing to tell the full truth.”
I turned slowly toward Zen, my demon ally, and let my face display the doubt Xandros had instilled. The doubt I was desperate for him to dispel. “Tell me the truth, Zen,” I said, my words barely a whisper. “Tell me you didn’t know about me…about my father…”
The pain in his eyes spoke to the contrary, as did his answer. “I cannot—”
“Then tell me you didn’t do all this so you could become king. That you didn’t plan to sever our bond once you’d succeeded.”
Silence.
“I cannot—but please, Andy, let me explain. I beg you—”
“No,” I snarled, a ball of fire forming in my hand. Even if it meant I’d burn with him, I was willing to do it, if for no other reason than to make him pay—to make him hurt like I hurt in that moment. I’d been a fool and, in doing so, had endangered the only people in the world who cared about me. My rage built and built as the fireball grew hotter, and I could see the delight burning in Xandros’ eyes as he looked on. And all the while Zen just stood there, saying nothing. Doing nothing.
I drew my arm back to lob the fireball, but a tiny cry from Petal stopped me short. I looked over to see Xandros’ claws piercing her flesh, her blood trailing down her arms, and my fire snuffed out. I stared at the other betrayer in the room, his expression smug with his perceived victory, and with a deep breath, I began bargaining for Petal’s life.
“What will you give me for the Demonheart?”
“Andy, you can’t—”
“I don’t seek the counsel of liars,” I said, my voice like ice.
Xandros smiled with delight. “What if I were to promise you that your precious witches would be safe?” He stroked Petal’s hair as she hung from his massive arms. “Would that be enough to end this now? Either way, your fate would not change, but at least you could rest knowing that your sisters will fare better than your poor mother—”
“He will not honor this bargain,” Zen hissed before he grabbed my arm with such force that it demanded my attention. “Once he has it, he will be unstoppable. He will kill me, end you, and then he will systematically pluck the Lilies from existence—”
“Says the one who wants that same power.”
“I don’t deny it, Andy, but I am not Xandros, and my actions are not his.”
“And yet they are, because you lied to and manipulated me, just as he did. And I was a fool to allow it—a fool to trust you, just as I did him.”
“I misled you, true, but I never lied,” he said, his grip on my arm tightening. “And I would never—”
“Enough!” Xandros shouted, cutting him off. “Give me what I came for.” He sliced the tip of his claw down the center of Petal’s chest, cutting through her dress and corset as though they were nothing. Blood seeped through the fabric at an alarming rate, and Hazel lunged toward her. Ivy caught her arm and held the enigmatic witch back as she cursed at him as though she were possessed.
“You psychotic motherfucker! I will flay your fucking hide from your bones and cram it down your fucking throat—”
“Give me the Demonheart now!” he roared as he put the tip of his claw to Petal’s deathly pale throat. “Do not test me, Oleander…” His fiery eyes glanced down at the blood streaming from her
belly. “I don’t think she has time for that.”
“Petal!” I screamed as a torrent of wind ripped through the room, nearly pulling Petal from his grasp, but all it managed to do was splatter her blood everywhere. Ivy’s last-ditch effort to free our sister had failed, and I knew time was running out.
Xandros looked at me, wickedness in his glowing stare. “I’ll come back for them one by one until you give it to me.” Again, his claws dug deep into Petal’s delicate flesh, and with a snap of his wrist, gore flew across the room. She hung limp in his arms as Willow, slowly rising from the floor, screamed her name. The blonde witch closed her eyes in concentration, and I feared what might happen next—feared that the sight of Petal dying might make her lose control. But then I saw the stream of blood draining from Petal's torso reverse direction and flow back inside her body.
Xandros roared in anger when he realized what she’d done, and I knew that fleeting distraction was my only chance.
I lunged across the room, arms outstretched for my youngest sister. My fingertips caught her arm, and my hand wrapped around the pale blue silk now soaked in blood. I held on for dear life as shouting ricocheted around the room, and I felt something tug on my leather coat right before everything shifted underneath me and the floor gave way.
One second, I was with the Lilies, surrounded by chaos. The next, I was standing in the darkness of the demon realm with Zen shouting in my ear and Petal dying right before my eyes.
Massive, clawed hands reached around me and ripped Petal from Xandros’ grip. Zen threw both her and me aside with such blinding speed that it took a moment to process the movement at all. I hit the stony ground next to Petal as Zen slammed into Xandros, driving him backward so hard the crash shook everything around us.
A Curse of Nightshade (Witches of the Gilded Lilies Book 1) Page 24