If I didn’t kill him, he’d die anyway.
And while I fucking hated messy kills, I’d have to make do.
I grabbed his shoulder and pant leg, then rolled him over. He twitched, but he didn’t fight as I pressed his face into the sand.
Trenton’s fingers curled into claws and his back arched. His heart began to race as I moved my hand from his leg to his back, pressing down on him. He shook his head, and I fisted his hair, holding it there while he fought and failed.
Minutes passed by in absolute silence.
I’d never reveled in killing. Not truly. If anything, it was just a means to survive. Me, or them.
But this death was slow and painful for more than just the victim.
Never in my ten years had killing a supe bothered me.
Not a single time.
But as his struggle faded, and the jerking slowed, and his entire form went limp—I knew this one would.
It might have been me or him, and I wouldn’t regret saving myself, but that was a hard way to go. Too hard for some punk with a gambling problem, even if he was a warlock.
18
I released a tight breath and lifted my head.
Morgan Le Fay watched me, her features impossible to read. After a suspended second where I wasn’t sure what to expect, she gave me a dismissive shrug and turned her back.
“You may prove interesting yet,” she said, not looking in my direction. If not for my advanced hearing, I wouldn’t have picked up on it. She took her seat and clapped twice. The doors on either side of the pit opened.
On the side where I came from, Sienna and Meatface stood waiting. Sasha was off to the side of them, her head turned stubbornly and black tail swishing with annoyance.
I hauled myself to my feet. Pain lanced through me with every shift of my weight as I walked toward them, trying to stand tall. My lips pressed into a firm line, dispassionate apathy my chosen shield, refusing to show them and everyone else how much a single glass shard could hurt me.
Only a foot past the door did I stop and turn. In the center of the pit, a young witch murmured the rights of passing, an incantation that when she tossed the salt in her hand on Trenton’s body, it burst into flame.
The last thing I saw was the skin melting from his face before the door slammed shut in a spray of sand. I closed my eyes to avoid the grit as it clouded the air.
The scent of burnt flesh made me want to gag.
Yet another reason I needed to keep myself under control.
My fire might wipe them all out, but I would be smelling it for a long time after.
“Get moving,” Meatface said. A thick hand barely had time to grasp my arm before a grunt came from behind me, and the appendage dropped away. I opened my eyes and turned back to them.
“Back off, Rafi.” Sienna stood too close for my liking, with her hands on her hips. Meanwhile, my so-called bodyguard took a step back, clasping his eye. “We had a deal. She won the fight.”
“You better watch yourself, kitten. I’ll hold up my end, but—” Rafi started. Sasha chose that moment to interfere, stepping between them, and grabbing him by the balls.
“No, you better watch yourself, Fido. The girl won, so she’s off limits. We need her alive for this work, or have you forgotten the pup you have on the line?” Her saccharine voice made him melt against his own will, but the mention of a pup had him bristling. He took another step back, a hard line puckering between his brows.
“You too?” he asked softly, then laughed once, but it rang with a cynical tenor. “Sienna I get. She’s always had a soft spot for the humans. But you? Sasha, have you forgotten what she’s done—”
The movement was so fast, had I been human like he claimed, I would have missed it.
One moment, Sasha stood there fuming. The next, her outstretched claws raked across his chest. Blood splattered us and the sand. He took a tight, pained breath.
“I know who she is and what she’s done. I do not forget, and I don’t need reminders from you, pup.” She spat the last word with venom, and then turned her chin to lock eyes with Sienna. “Get her back to her cell. We’re too close now to fail because this dog wanted to pick a fight.”
Sienna didn’t say anything, and she didn’t argue. She just grabbed my arm and swung it over her shoulder before walking me to the stairs.
“I can walk,” I objected.
Her ears twitched. “You limped out of the pit. Forgive me for wanting to make sure you get back to your cell in one piece before someone else intervenes.”
I sighed. While I wanted to argue, my foot really did hurt like a bitch, and every step just agitated it more.
“What was his problem with me?” I asked under my breath, hoping that talking would make it easier, and my winces less noticeable.
“Girlfriend’s a witch. You either killed her brother or collected a bounty on him and he was killed.” She shrugged.
“I’ve got a lot of enemies here,” I noted.
“You’re the Witch Hunter, and beyond that, you’re the last person Lucifer was seen with before he disappeared and the witches took over. A lot of people are speculating about your part to play in that.”
I frowned. “I hunted witches. I’d never work with them.”
“Nathalie is a witch.”
“She’s different,” I said gruffly. Sienna chuckled.
“She is, but that doesn’t mean everyone else sees it that way. Even those that think you’d have nothing to do with the witches assume you’re part of the reason for everything going downhill now.”
“Now?” I asked. “This city has been a shithole for twenty years. Your kind and every other magic user took advantage of humans—”
“I’m not debating you,” Sienna said with a deep sigh. We came to a stop before a door that I could only assume was mine. “We could spend eternity going back and forth with who wronged who. Neither side is innocent, and playing the pain game for who suffered the worst just means everyone loses.”
She shoved the door open, and it let out a shrill screech. She held the door open, letting me hobble over to the bed. I half squatted before collapsing back and let out a relieved umph.
“So Lucifer was actually a saint, and now everyone blames me for that as well?” I said, staring at the ceiling. Something twisted in my chest. I didn’t like it. “Oh, the fucking irony.”
“He wasn’t a saint,” Sienna said, picking up the rubber bucket beside my cot and taking it to the water pipe coming through the wall. “He was a king, and the only thing that kept New Chicago from truly falling apart. His hold on the supernaturals kept them in line, and before you go on saying how much they still did—I know. We all know. But it was better than nothing. Better than now.” She turned the nozzle and mostly clear liquid sprayed. She emptied it when the water ran clear and then refilled it with the cleaner stuff.
“Either way, I don’t really see how it’s fair to blame what happened to him on me. He held me prisoner. Of course, I took the first chance I had to get away. People being angry at me for having a survival instinct is not just stupid, it’s hypocritical. None of them would have stayed.”
“It’s not about you leaving. It’s about what happened after you left.”
I started to ask what exactly she meant when cool fingers touching my bare foot made me tense. I lifted my head. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out why you’re limping. You probably need human medical help, but unfortunately I’m the best you’ve got.” I frowned as she prodded at my foot.
“I stepped on glass and took a fireball to my calf.”
She looked over the bottom of both feet, then my calves. “You did?”
I sat up completely, ignoring my protesting muscles.
“Yeah, right here—” The words died on my tongue.
While smudged and dirty, neither of my calves were damaged in any way. That couldn’t be right. I brought my legs up, sitting crisscross so I could examine both of them better. No bur
n marks, and despite the sharp pains that still ran through my heel, there was nothing there. Only a smudge of dried blood and caked sand.
My frown deepened.
“Do you have a rag?”
She tore part of her own shirt off and extended the strip. I dipped my foot in the cold water and used the torn cloth to dry the bottom pad. It hurt to touch, but there was no mark. No cut. No blood.
“How sharp are your claws?” I asked quietly. She lifted a finger, the nail wicked enough to probably cut someone’s throat out with a single slash. “Cut right here.” I pointed at the spot on my heel.
She lifted her golden eyes to my face, studying me. Instead of questioning it, she nodded once and lowered her claw. The cut was quick, I’d give her that. I had to swallow the hiss that threatened to break free.
Blood welled instantly. I reached down and grabbed both sides of my foot, parting the broken skin, squinting to see what I could find.
“There,” I said, thrusting my chin toward the shiny sheen of glass now stuck in my heel. “Dig it out.”
“It looks deep. Are you sure—”
“Dig. It. Out. Quickly. I can’t walk right with it in there, and it’s not like you guys are going to get me to a doctor. Just do it.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when she stuck two claws several inches deep in my heel. I couldn’t stop the grunt I gave as my chest constricted, but of all things, this I could handle.
She locked onto the piece of glass and squeezed, then yanked.
The long shard that came free had me biting into my own shoulder to keep from screaming.
In that brief flash of pain, I felt something familiar, or rather, someone.
Warmth touched me in a ghostly embrace, despite the chill of the pits. Breathing hard, I looked around. But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t—
“No wonder you were having trouble walking,” Sienna said, examining the jagged glass between her claws. I was more concerned about the blood gushing from my foot. I released the two sides I’d parted to try to stem the flow.
Meanwhile, the pain died down, and my suspicion rose.
“You were telling me how I’m somehow at fault for what happened to Lucifer,” I said after a suspended moment. She lifted both her eyebrows, surprised I wanted to continue that talk.
“He went after you, and then several hours later he showed up on my doorstep half dead. His skin was simultaneously peeling off and healing. Before, whenever he’d been injured, he healed like, well, you.” She purposely dropped her eyes to my heel, which was now perfect and smooth, just bloody from being opened only a minute before. “That didn’t happen this time. He said your name, and then he passed out. Sascha and I took care of him for days with no improvement, and then the witches came. He was too weak to do anything about it.”
I released a heavy breath. “I set his ass on fire because he bit me. I don’t know how much you know about demon blood exchanges—”
“I know enough,” she said. I nodded.
“It wasn’t welcome, so I lit up and then walked away. He disappeared before I was even out of the alley. I didn’t know what happened to him, Sienna, and that’s the truth—not that you deserve it.”
We were both quiet for a moment, and I dipped my foot in the water to let the blood run off.
“I don’t,” she said after a while. “But thank you for sharing it with me. I realize this might be pushing my luck, but can I ask another?”
“Another truth?” I leaned back, my foot still in the rubber bucket, my upper half resting against the cold concrete wall. As far as witch-punishments went, this wasn’t so bad.
“Yes,” Sienna said, rocking back to sit on the ground. She crossed her feet at the ankles and rested her elbows on her knees.
“That depends,” I said, after some thought, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. “What are you asking?”
“You have the markings of a demon. Lucifer said you’re his atma,” she started. I wasn’t technically, but there wasn’t much point in correcting her.
“I’m not hearing the question.”
“Yet, you talk like you’re human. You act like you’re human.” I heard the frown in her voice. “I don’t understand why one with so much power would pretend to be human, but you also don’t seem like you’re pretending.”
“That’s because I’m not,” I said. “I am human . . . or, at least I was.”
“I . . .” she started then stopped. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
“Will you explain it to me?”
I lowered my chin and looked down at her. Not so long ago, this was my deepest, darkest secret. And yet she already knew a portion of the worst parts. She knew what I was. She didn’t know how or why, but maybe if she knew, she would see . . .
Maybe she would understand.
But then, did it really matter if she understood?
Her pity couldn’t give me absolution. Her sorrow wouldn’t change things. I could tell her the story—my story—but at the end of the day, the only one it really mattered to was me.
“No.”
She tilted her head, unoffended but curious. Her cat eyes glowed and her tail flicked. “Because you don’t trust me?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. I was human once, now I’m not. What does matter is us finding a way out of here. You want to save Lucifer. I want to help Nat. Who or what I am doesn’t impact that, and for all your talk of friendship—we aren’t friends. By your own admission, you don’t feel bad about lying to me. I don’t blame you for that, but I would blame myself if I trusted you just to be lied to again.” I lifted my foot out of the water, ignoring the numbing sensation as I wiped it on the edge of the bare sheet that covered my cot.
“I understand,” Sienna said. She got to her feet and dumped the bucket in the corner, then set it down. “I suppose I should probably give you a truth too.” I lifted a single eyebrow, waiting. “Whether you help or not, I won’t betray you again. I will be getting you out because I love Lucifer—and he needs you. So try to stay alive because the first chance we see, we’re taking it—and you’re coming with us.”
They were nice words. A rousing speech, really. If I had it in me to give second chances, she might have gotten one. After all, she did claim to have done it for love.
But fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, eat lead.
I already had enough shit going on. People that needed me. My metaphorical dance card was full.
That was until my cell door blew open. The metal panel slammed into the side wall, the sound piercing the air like a car backfiring.
I sat up straight, and Sienna hissed—until we both saw who it was.
Sasha stood panting with both her hands braced on the outer doorframe. Her caramel skin was tinged red from exertion. She took a couple of hard breaths after what I could only assume was running.
“We need to leave now.” She put a hand to her lower abdomen as if helping a cramp. While lithe in form, I got the feeling she wasn’t used to running.
“Already?” Sienna said, frowning in uncertainty. “Are you sure—”
“He’s here,” Sasha replied in a low tone.
I kicked my legs off my cot and used all my strength to haul myself back on my bare feet.
“He?”
Sasha didn’t answer.
A brush of warmth sent a shiver up my spine. I inhaled the scent of dark magic and fire. It burned in my lungs and sent the embers in my chest in a frenzy.
I knew without a shadow of doubt who was here.
The tremor in the very foundation of the pits said it all.
“Ronan,” I whispered.
Sasha nodded. Her eyes solemn. “He’s going to bring the whole place down if he keeps this up. I don’t plan to be here when that happens. So, are you in or are you out?”
I pressed my lips together. Ronan’s magic called to me. It wasn’t kind or good, but it enticed me all the same as it trie
d to draw us together.
He was a demon. One who wouldn’t enter stasis after using his power. Odds were the whole place would be rubble within the hour, and Morgan Le Fay just another legend.
I could go to him . . . but would he do what I asked? Would he help me rescue Nat from her shitty family? Would he save Lucifer so they couldn’t kill him for some twisted ritual?
I wasn’t sure.
So I had my answer.
“Let’s go.” I nodded. Sasha eyed me a moment longer as Sienna stepped around her and out of the room. She nodded too and jutted her chin toward the direction her twin went.
I followed after, letting Sasha bring up the end of the line at my back. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions for me. I half expected her to slit my neck. But Sienna’s words came back to me.
They loved Lucifer.
And to them, I was his.
I shook my head. Both love and magic were fucked up, but I wasn’t sure which was worse at the end of the day.
The walls shook. Loose grit rained down on us as we moved at a brisk pace through the underground tunnels. The lights flickered in and out, and when we rounded a corner to come across three other people, I raised my hands for a fight, right as Sienna raised her flat palms in a sign of peace.
“Just us,” she said. Meatface, a heavily pregnant woman I could only assume to be his witch girlfriend, and a young witch with strange, color-changing eyes regarded me with barely checked hostility.
“What’s happening?” the werewolf, Rafi, asked.
“Demon,” Sienna answered. “Looks like he came for her, after all. We need to get out now—”
“If he’s here for her, won’t having her put us all at risk?” the pregnant witch asked. She wore patched clothes, and dirt smudged her cheek and hands. Her auburn hair was tied back in a loose bun, and she cupped her stomach protectively.
“She’s coming with,” Sienna said in a dark voice. “We had a deal.”
Her eyes flashed. “Last I checked, you need Ruth more than we need you—”
Haunted by Shadows: Magic Wars: Demons of New Chicago Book Two Page 12