by A C Wilds
A pang of sadness flows through me. If she doesn’t agree, the friend I’ve had for eons will not exist anymore. This is all my fault. Presenting the Holy Magic to her in public was a terrible idea. I should have been more covert or at least made it seem like she was a prisoner.
“Tenebris might view him that way, but I know a different demon. One who sacrificed everything so our people could have a better life here on Earth. He’s the only one who stood by us and held back the worst of the horde. Without him, your realm wouldn’t exist.”
My words must hit home because uncertainty flies across her face. It’s just a flicker, but it’s there.
“What do you mean by the worst of the horde?” She leans toward me as if she’ll miss something if she’s not close enough. I move even nearer until she has to tilt her head up to look up at me.
“Anima, we didn’t come to take over the Earth. We came to seek refuge.”
Anima
There isn’t much in this world that can shock me. I’ve killed hundreds of demons, and I’ve committed horrible acts in the name of Tenebris. I’ve seen others perform despicable actions and derive pleasure from torture. But this revelation spins my world off its axis.
“Explain to me what that means exactly, please. Because according to history, the demons came to Earth with only one intention—to conquer. Why weren’t we told differently if what you say is true?”
“It was part of the treaty. When the initial wave came, we thought we’d be accepted, but we were attacked. Tenebris and the other covens were waiting for us. After we overtook them, the treaty was put into place.”
My expression must give away my clear disbelief because he continues. “Two treaties were signed that day. One was bound in blood—the true treaty that cannot be broken—and the other was signed in front of the masses proclaiming the demons to be the invaders. We’re being hunted… willingly.”
Pushing him out of my space, I pace out of the alley. I have no destination in mind, but after talking with Shelley, I’d realized I needed to leave. My presence there had put her in danger.
“Please, I’m not too proud to beg,” he mumbles. At first, I think I’m hearing things, but no…it’s there. Palpable and at the surface, his words are coated in sorrow.
“How would I help? Even if those sigils do mean something, it only happened when I touched the orb. I have no idea what to do with them.”
“If you’ll let me, I can walk you through it. I’m familiar with how it works.”
Giving myself a moment to consider it, I stare at his impossibly beautiful face. He’s frightened for his friend. If it were Shelley and only he could help her, I’d do anything, too. Promise him everything.
“I’ll try.” Those two words leave my mouth of their own volition. By the time my brain catches up, he’s wrapped me in his arms and turned us into smoke.
14
Anima
We reform in the office at Hallowed Ground. There are many demons and humans below, my internal witch waking up and sensing their energies.
Torque puts me down, then moves to a safe behind his desk. Once the orb is in his hands, I can’t help but stare at it. It’s a beautiful shade of white with flecks of all different colors. It gives it a subtle glittery glow.
He hands it to me. Immediately, my magic responds. The sigils return to my skin, my flesh covered in tiny glyphs. If I remove my clothes, I bet they’d be all over my body.
“You can read these?” I whisper, flipping my left hand to watch them sparkle in the lowlight of the office.
“Some, but others are in the language of the Pure Gods. I’m not proficient in it, but I know someone who is.”
“Tell me how to save Mammon.” My voice sounds stronger, harsher. The magic flows freely through me, forcing the entirety of my being to stand at attention. Parts I usually wouldn’t have been able to feel are scratching at the surface, freed from their cages.
A hum vibrates in the center of my chest, my life essence forming a solid sphere of magic. It’s addicting and enlightening. I imagine this is what the gods felt like.
“Don’t let it consume you. You cannot let the power overtake you. There’s no surviving that. I have plans for you, little witch, and it would be a shame if I lost you too soon.”
A devious smile tugs at my lips at the thought of exploring those plans with him. The magic makes me feel brave. I’m unstoppable.
When he pulls the orb away, it’s like my soul is being ripped from my body. Crying out in pain, I double over, clutching my stomach. “Why would you do that?”
Before he can answer, I hear the clomp of heavy boots on the floor outside. Two demons rush in to see what’s happening. On my knees with tears in my eyes, I appear weak and small. My insides crumble at the thought.
Pulling a knife from my boot, I stand on shaky feet and stare down the intruders.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” the tall one says. He’s wearing a cut nearly identical to Torque’s, but the patches on his left breast are different. The other demon stands in the doorway, scanning for threats. They are both on high alert.
“She’s going to heal Mammon.” They both start to object to Torque’s statement, but he throws up his hand. “You will take care to remember who your king is.”
The change in their posture is almost immediate, bowing to their sovereign and awaiting his command. My views on demon politics aren’t the best. But as I become more aware of how they live, I begin to understand how little I know.
“Anima. If you please,” he says, gliding past the two demons whose heads are still bowed.
Getting up, I follow him out of the room and down a flight of stairs. Demons lounge on tables and couches, but when Torque enters, they scramble to rise and bow to him. My attention stays riveted as I note the changes in their demeanors.
Torque’s shield has dropped. His magic leaks through, showing how powerful he is. It’s like standing too close to a fire. His intensity rubs off on them, the energy around us heightening.
I’m led into the princep of New City’s throne room. Mammon’s prone body has been arranged in the center of a table. This day keeps getting weirder and weirder.
“This is Tara, Mammon’s vampire. They have been together for decades. Her blood is his and vice versa. She should have been able to pull him out, but something is blocking the healing properties.”
I study the demon. He’s as big as a tank, corded muscles showing through his cut, a full beard, and a permanent scowl. He’s not one of the good ones. Doubt flashes in my mind.
“Anima,” the vampire sobs. “Please save him. I know we are not your people, but he’s my everything. Please.” She grabs his hand, then kisses his knuckles. He doesn’t respond to her touch. It’s almost like he’s in a coma.
“How do I do it?” I direct my question to Torque, who holds the orb out to me.
“The sigils on your arms act as an enhancer—a way to manipulate the magic without becoming it. Think of your body as a filter. It will flow through you, releasing your intentions with it.”
“I have to shape it to my will?”
It’s the only thing that makes sense. This magic is the essence of life. I can feel it deep within myself.
“Yes, and you have to release it. Before, you held it in. If you’d continued doing so, it would have taken over. You need to focus on pulling only a little in. Slow the flow until it’s manageable, then use the sigils to bend it into healing magic.”
“You make it sound so simple—like I’ve already been taught and should know how to do this already. If I can’t stop the flow of magic, then what happens? To Mammon and me?”
“I don’t know for certain, but I can surmise that either you or he or possibly you both will die. It’s not magic tainted with the essences of the realms. It’s raw, wild, and straight from the universe’s core. It has to be controlled.”
The more he speaks, the less I want to try this. My soul is anxious to feel that power again. It’s allu
ringly tempting as it made me feel like I had the world at my feet—like I was an unstoppable force.
“Please,” Tara cries, her tears dripping unheeded down her cheeks. When Torque gently lifts her to ease her away from Mammon, she gasps and sobs louder, but allows him to manhandle her into a seat out of the way. Once he’s satisfied she’s okay, he drops the orb into my hands. This time, the connection is instantaneous.
My dark magic swirls and mixes with the untainted magic of the orb. Its shape is malleable, and it can do whatever I want.
The sigils glow, pulling me from the thoughts of destruction and conquer I have in the forefront of my mind.
“Focus, Anima. Let the magic leak out into Mammon, then use the sigils to complete the spell.”
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s not a spell—it’s an emergence with my life and the magic. To create an intention, I must become the magic. It’s overwhelming.
I throw the ball in the air. It floats above me—in view but separate. Torque sucks in an audible breath, clearly nervous I’ll drop it, but I don’t.
I touch the sigils on my arms, pressing the ones the magics seem to want the most. Focusing, I picture them healing Mammon, introducing their essences into his soul while bringing him back from the brink of death.
I drop my palms to his chest, yanking on the core of my magic. It swirls together with the holy energy, and I spill it into him. Too much at first, but then I feel the right flow, and I begin to push.
“That’s enough,” Torque yells. He sounds far away even though he’s right behind me. I don’t listen, though. His friend has a web of magic around his inner power. It’s gripping the strands so tight that it’s literally squeezing the life out of him.
When I pluck at the strings, the web instantly dissolves. I yank the magic back, but not quickly enough. Mammon snaps awake, lunging for my neck. Nails scrabbling for purchase in my skin, he snatches me closer, sinking his fangs deep into my neck. The magic explodes out of me, knocking everyone back.
The last thing I remember before seeing darkness takes over is Torque running toward me.
15
Torque
“Get off her, Mammon,” I shout as I tackle the demon. He’s ravenous. Eyes wild with hunger, his teeth rip into her throat. I have to separate them before it’s too late.
My magic rushes over him. I squeeze gently, slowing the blood flow, but it’s not enough. This is going to hurt him, but I can’t lose her. Not now.
Releasing more magic, I stop his heart. He gasps in pain, his fangs retracting. It gives me the exact advantage I need to separate them. Tara rushes over to try to catch Mammon’s big body when it appears he’s going to collapse. I don’t try to assist her. Instead, I scoop Anima up into my arms and cradle her to my chest before releasing the magic.
Gently laying her on the floor, I search for any other injury besides the jagged holes in her neck. When my fangs extend of their own volition, I puncture my wrist. A swell of blood forms, hot and thick with my magic. Dipping my fingers into it, I smear the liquid onto her wound.
Immediately, it begins to heal, and I heave a sigh of relief. If she were too far gone, it wouldn’t have worked. Now all I can do is wait until she wakes up.
“Mammon, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” Tara coos, clasping his face between her palms.
“What… what happened?” He shakes his head, shifting toward me for answers. Color slowly returns to his skin, a slight glow appearing around him. I wonder if it’s from the witch’s blood.
“You were attacked by Tenebris. They placed a spell on you, but Anima freed you from it. You attacked her when you came out of your sleep.”
I won’t sugarcoat his actions. He’ll apologize, but it wasn’t something in his control. When a Blood Demon is injured, we need life essence to bring us back. He was acting on instinct.
“Shit. What were they doing in Hallowed Grounds? How did they get past the wards?”
“The first I can answer. However, the second I can only speculate about. They were looking for Anima and me. She can wield Holy Magic, and Rahna has placed a hit out on her head under the pretenses she is working with us.”
Neither speaks, too shocked to respond. A Tenebris witch working with a Blood Demon is a lot to take in.
Two sharp rat-a-tats precedes the door opening and Caymn entering the room with two other demons on his heels. I rise from the floor, ready to face any confrontation head-on, but his eyes soften as he sees Mammon alive.
“I’m glad you’re okay, brother. It was a hell of a thing not to be able to bring you back right away. Scared the shit out of me.” His words hold meaning. We are all deeply connected by our clan. This war strengthened the bonds we have with one another.
“Thanks, care to fill me in on the attack? I seem to have lost my memory.”
I pick Anima up from the floor, carefully placing her on the table Mammon recently vacated. Her tiny figure doesn’t even take up half the space. Brushing a lock of silky hair off her forehead, I have the intense desire to press a kiss to her lips.
“Eight came at once. Marched right through the door. We didn’t even have time to prepare. Our only saving grace was our numbers. In the end, we were able to force them out, but not without cost. We’re lucky to have only lost a few.”
“Did they have Holy Magic?” I ask with a sneer. The only way eight witches could do this much damage was if they’d been equipped with something extra special. They were too confident to fight a room full of demons.
“Unclear, Pres. The spells they cast did have an extra kick, though. And when the witch cursed Mammon, it felt like the world was about to end. A huge flash of light hit him. Afterward, the witch who cast it passed out. It’s probably the reason they retreated. Usually, they fight until the end.”
Caymn has a point. Tenebris witches are known for their sacrifices. We’ll just have to wait and ask Anima when she wakes up. She must know something about their strategy.
Anima
Pain. It’s the first thing that registers when I open my eyes. My hand flies to my neck to feel around for the source. I prod with shaky fingers at a raw, jagged patch of skin, but when I pull away to examine them, there’s no blood. Torque must have saved me.
I attempt to sit up, but the room spins as soon as I lift my head. Turning to the side to get a better idea of where I am, I realize a bedroom has replaced the throne room.
I lay on a plush mattress with crisp white sheets underneath me. Silks hang from the ceiling, and the scents of a campfire and chocolate mingle in the air.
“You’re awake,” Torque breathes. I shift toward the voice to find him sitting in a chair next to the bed. Dark bags under his eyes and a day-old beard attest to his exhaustive state.
“How long have I been out?” Rough and dry, my voice sounds and feels like sandpaper. He immediately gets up from the chair, anticipating my need for water.
“Around thirty-six hours. You lost a lot of blood. I’m glad I got to you in time. He would have killed you.”
His tone is stern as if what happened were my fault. Torque is the one who asked me to heal Mammon. It’s not like I could have known what to expect.
“I’m sure you’re waiting for a thank you, so thank you, Princep, for saving my life from the demon you asked me to heal.”
He considers my sarcasm before a smile tugs at his lips. “Are you always this testy in the mornings, little witch?”
Groaning, I close my eyes, resting my head on the pillow. I have no energy to enter into battle with him right now.
“When I pictured you moaning in my bed, I didn’t think you’d be fully clothed and healing while doing so. My image was much more—colorful.”
A zing of desire ping-pongs around my body. Even almost dying at his demon’s hand doesn’t prevent my reaction to Torque. “The thought of you fantasizing about me is going to send me back into a coma.”
Chuckling, he saunters over to the door. “I’m going to get you somethi
ng to eat. If you need to use the facilities, the bathroom is located through that door. Don’t overdo it. Your body still needs to make more blood before you are back to normal.”
He silently exits the room as I close my eyes. The king of Hallowed Grounds is playing handmaiden to a Tenebris witch assassin.
Could life be any more messed up?
16
Anima
When Torque returns with food, I’m sitting up in bed. It took me about twenty minutes to get from the bed to the bathroom, having fallen twice. I’m grateful he wasn’t here to see it. I don’t think my pride could have taken the hit.
The scents of onions and carrots fill my nose as he brings the tray over. A bowl of soup, a plate holding three slices of crusty bread, a tall glass of ice water with lemon, and three dried figs are artfully arranged on its surface.
“Thanks.” I try to take the tray from him, but he shrugs me off and settles it across my lap.
“This should get your iron supply up. There are lentils in the chicken soup.” He seems different in this setting, almost caring. Nothing but a demon king, a ruthless killer, someone who preyed on humans and didn’t care for the law to me before, Torque is now showing me an entirely different side of himself.
He takes a seat in the chair next to the bed, motioning for me to start eating. The soup is delicious, full of thick cuts of vegetables with chicken and lentils. It’s hearty without overdoing it.
I finish the whole bowl, even using a piece of bread to clean the remaining juice from the bowl, before reclining with a contented sigh to examine him. “What’s the plan now? There’s no going back after what happened. Tenebris has put hits on us both, and there’s no way we can survive on our own.”
“The plan is to travel to the Demon Realm. We’ll seek out Nox, and hope like hell he’ll help. It’s the only chance we have to stop her.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. My training taught me to kill demons, but it didn’t prepare me for what could happen in the Demon Realm. I would be completely vulnerable there.