by Cece Rose
Somehow I don’t think he’d miss the heart.
“We agree. Right, Kayla?” Rhydian responds, glancing at me for… approval? What the hell? Doesn’t he usually just do whatever he wants, why start asking for my approval now?
“Of course we do,” I agree. “I mean, you gave us such great options to choose from, but somehow we impossibly managed to decide between them…” the snarky words make it out of my mouth before I can stop them. And honestly, I’m not even mad at myself for it. They can deal with it. It’s not like they didn’t just threaten to murder me, after all. Fuck pleasantries.
“That’s settled then,” Rhydian’s mother responds quickly, as if trying to get in before her husband. “We will speak about the arrangements tomorrow, once everyone has had a chance to calm down.”
“We’ll be leaving then.” Rhydian stands and I follow his lead as he moves to the door to leave without a real goodbye. Not that I think they’re the kind of family to do such things.
“You surprise me,” The King calls out after us as we reach the door. Rhydian pauses, but I’ve had enough of this shit-show, and leave the room, stopping and leaning against a wall in the hallway outside. The door remains open though, and I can’t help but overhear what’s said next.
“Why?” Rhydian questions after a moment or two of silence.
“I thought you would have just killed her. It would have been the wiser choice, though it seems you may have picked the more interesting path. I only hope you do not come to regret it.”
Fifteen
Death by Hunger
As soon as Rhydian finishes phasing us into my kitchen, I pull away and walk straight across the room, perching myself on the countertop facing him. Rhydian stays standing across the room from me, an uncharacteristically apprehensive look on his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me we’d need your father’s permission to break this off? Did you not think that little, not-so-insignificant, detail might have been worth mentioning?” I question him sarcastically, wondering if I sound as pissed off as I feel.
“Because I thought he’d do it, okay? I thought that he’d be so bigoted about the situation, he’d be glad to put an end to it the whole thing and just agree to break it off. I'm so sorry, Kayla. You have to believe me that I didn't think he'd ask me to do that,” he answers seriously, moving to lean against the other counter.
“Really? Are you honestly expecting me to believe that you didn't think he'd jump straight to the murder the witch option?” I can't stop my eyes rolling at that thought. Rhydian’s entire family seem a little too murder-happy for me.
“I didn't expect for him to allow, let alone push for us to get married this week either, sweetheart. That doesn't change the situation we're in now though, I know that. Which is why, if you can't go through with this, I'll understand.”
“I can't choose not to go through with this, Rhydian. He said he would kill me, remember?” I fidget as I respond, shifting my position on the countertop.
“He can't kill you, if I kill him first.”
“Woah, wait a second there...” I trail off, feeling my eyes widen as I stare at him. He can't be serious. “He's your father, you can't—
“Can't what? Kill him? Take his throne and call off our engagement myself?” he asks, his voice getting louder with each question. “Why not?”
My stomach, much to my embarrassment, chooses this moment to growl loudly. I cringe. Great. Perfect fucking timing to realise just how hungry I am. I wonder how long I was in that stupid cell? I should probably check the time.
Does time even pass the same between the two worlds, and if it doesn't, how do the fae keep track?
“Hungry?” Rhydian asks in a much more relaxed tone, pulling me from my internal questions with a small smile.
“I'm starving, but that's hardly the point considering you just suggested murdering someone,” I answer pointedly.
“Let me make you something to eat. What are you in the mood for?” He moves across to the fridge, pulling the door open to peer inside.
“You can't just fix me something to eat right now; we're having a serious discussion. Do you even know how to cook? Wouldn't you have servants and chefs for that kind of stuff growing up?”
“Yes, I can—to both of your first questions, and the third is irrelevant. I haven't had either for several years now. Plenty of time to learn,” he answers, as he starts rummaging in the fridge and pulling stuff out, before moving to cupboards to find some more ingredients for whatever he's trying to make.
“Look, you need to stop so we can talk about this for a minute. Please, Rhydian.”
“What’s there to talk about, Kayla? There are two viable options here, and while neither of those involve you dying, one involves killing him.”
“Your father,” I remind him.
“I know he is. It’s not a great option, and I'll only do this if you want me to. If you can't go through with this wedding, I'll kill him so that you don't have to,” he responds, pausing for a moment before adding, “I can put a stop to Cia’s then too.”
“If that was a choice you really wanted to make, surely you’d have done that before this?” I prompt. “You don’t want to be the king, do you?”
“No, and with luck, I won’t ever be. I just can’t stand the idea of Aven getting the job by marrying my stupid, naive little sister.”
“You’re older, though? Why wouldn’t you get the throne instead of her?”
“Because I always planned to refuse it. A thing my parents both loathe me for, as it meant they had to have another child,” Rhydian explains.
“They didn’t want Cia?”
“Does it seem like they do? They only want her to be the heir I refuse to be. That’s why they don’t care about Aven, so long as our bloodline stays in control. I honestly don't understand why they care about something as ridiculous as that, but they do. Much more than they do for either of their children.”
“Great, now you have me feeling sorry for her again.” I let out a sigh, feeling the rest of my anger at Rhydian dissipate. “Look, it's up to you whatever you decide to do, but I can't make that decision for you, and not just because I don't want to be charged as an accomplice. If you don't want to kill him, you don't have to do it. I'd rather be forced into a fake marriage with my friend, than force that friend to literally kill his father.”
“So you're willing to do this?” he asks quietly, as if afraid I’ll change my answer.
“Unless you can figure out another way to get us out of this before Saturday, yes, I will do it,” I agree, trying to force some confidence into my voice, but I know it falls flat.
Feeling like the conversation is over, I hop down from the counter and move past him. I go to start putting away the various foods he’d pulled out from the fridge and cupboards, spotting a few things I swear didn’t come from either. Rhydian places his hand over mine as I go to pick up a particularly bizarre-looking piece of fruit.
“Hey, don’t touch the food until it’s ready. Now that we're decided, you can stop glaring at me and let me finish making you something to eat. I promise I'll leave you to enjoy it in peace as soon as I'm done,” he offers playfully, not removing his touch from my hand even as I move it away from the fruit. The familiar creeping of the magic between us intensifies, yet I don’t push his hand away.
“I'm fine, you don't have to do that. I'm perfectly capable of cooking something for myself.” Though, I am a little curious about whatever it is he was planning to make.
“I know you are, but I'm doing it anyway. So, unless you're complimenting my culinary skills, zip it,” he retorts, finally moving his hand away, taking the strange fruit with him.
Sixteen
Friends & Demons
I deliberately take longer getting ready than I usually do. After taking the longest shower of my life, I then take the time to blow dry and straighten my hair, dragging the process out as much as I can without killing my blonde strands from the heat. I change my o
utfit four times, and then re-do my makeup twice. I debate curling my already straightened hair just for something else to do. Anything to avoid being ready to leave and having to head over to Darren's place.
How the hell do you tell your boyfriend you're getting married to his best friend?
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, seeing the frown spread across my face. I doubt it matters much that we don't have a lot of choice in the matter, that this was all a mistake. And now, If we don't go through with this, I'm dead. Rhydian's father had said as much. He'll kill me just to free up the ring so his daughter can get married to Aven. He doesn't care that Aven's apparently a sociopath, and he definitely doesn't care that Rhydian said he doesn't want to rush this. He even doesn't care about casually murdering a witch he hardly knows. He just doesn't give a shit about anything. No wonder Rhydian's so messed up, with parents like that. I chew my lower lip distractedly as the worries keep rushing through my head.
From the corner of my eye, I notice the blur of something moving behind me in the mirror's reflection. Suddenly on alert, I turn around and grab my hairdryer to throw at whatever intruder has broken into my bedroom.
“Hey, bestie,” Lizzy greets me, grinning widely as she gives an amused look at my weapon of choice.
“Oh, it's you.” I let my hand holding the drier fall to my side. “Aren't you supposed to be in hiding? Dropping by like this all the time might get you caught.” I hope she knows my words are from concern, and not from being unhappy to see her. Honestly, I'm relieved at the added distraction. Buys me a little more time to try and figure out what the hell to say to Darren.
“Well, hopefully I won't be in hiding for much longer,” she responds in an upbeat tone.
“You're still trying to find a way to come back?” I ask.
“I've found a way,” she corrects me before continuing, “But I need your help to do it, Kayla. And his.” She turns her head to the side, and I follow her eyes to a very smug looking demon sitting at the foot of my bed.
“Why the hell are you summoning him without a circle?” I demand furiously, my current concern for my best friend’s safety overriding any annoyance at his presence once again in my home. Though, the audacity of him just getting comfy on my bed, half-dressed, like I didn’t tell him to go to hell a few days ago really rubs me the wrong way. Okay, so maybe I’m a little irritated...
“You’re one to talk,” my best friend retorts, rolling her eyes at me. “We have an arrangement. One that includes my safety. I’m not a fool, Kayla.”
“Fine, so you’re being careful. But, seriously, please tell me you're not making a deal with that thing to get out of this mess. You know it won’t end well,” I say as calmly as possible, while placing my hair drier back onto the dresser.
“I can't do that.” She doesn't even look guilty about it.
My eyes dart back to Solas, sending a death glare at him. This is all his fault. I sure as hell didn’t give her the ritual to summon him, so he must have left Lizzy a way to reach him when he repaid his debt to me by saving her. What the hell is he playing at?
The demon grins, flashing his perfect white teeth. “I’m sensing you’re not happy to see me, little witch.”
“No. I'm not.” I turn my focus away from him and back onto Lizzy. “How can he help you, and why do you need me involved with this too? I'm a little magically useless at the moment, as everyone here is well aware.”
“Well, technically, I just need his help, but he won't help me unless you help him. I hate to ask, but this may be my only shot at being able to come back. For everything to be normal again. Don’t you want that for me?” she asks.
“Of course I do… just how can Solas do that for you?”
“It’s complicated, but trust me, I’ve exhausted all my options, and a demon curse is the only thing powerful enough to get me out of this mess. You know what that’s like, I know you do.” She gives a pointed look between me and Solas. “You've summoned him plenty of times yourself to get yourself out of trouble.”
She’s not wrong. I’ve been using the demon as my own literal get out of jail free card. Even if he is one with sneaky costs attached to him. And this time, his cost is that he wants something from me. Just freaking great. I’m a total fucking hypocrite, and now I get to owe the demon something. Peachy.
“What does it want from me?” I ask, hating how whiny my voice sounds, but I can’t seem to help it. Why is everything in my life so messed up? Surely the crazy should be more evenly distributed amongst people.
“I'm right here, you could ask me directly, you know. Witches have no manners these days.” Solas tuts in annoyance at me as I continue to ignore him, and choose instead to raise an eyebrow at Lizzy.
“He wouldn't say,” she responds, pressing her lips together nervously, already knowing that I won’t be happy with that answer.
“And you just agreed for me to help without knowing what it is he wants?” a tinge of accusation colours my tone.
“No, of course not! He said it wouldn't cause you any harm, and it's up to you if you want to agree or not. I can’t make you do this for me, but I hope as my best friend, if whatever he wants is reasonable, that you’ll help so I can come home,” she gives me wide, pleading eyes as she explains. She’s like a freaking cute puppy or something, and not my murderer best friend.
Begrudgingly, I turn back to the demon for more information. “What do you want? I swear to the goddess, if you suggest something repulsive or illegal, I'll burn your name and summoning ritual out from all of my family's grimoires, and I swear I’ll never summon you again. None of us will. And whatever weird 'thing' you have for the witches of my family will be done with. Forever. I’ll make sure of it.”
“It won't matter what you do to your spell books, witch. You already know how to call me, and we both know that you'll do it again. You won't be able to resist with the amount of trouble you manage to find yourself in. However, your threats are pointless, and your concerns completely unfounded. All I require from you is your presence, and a few drops of your blood. Then, I give you my word that I'll return you back here, unharmed, save for the pinprick on your finger.”
“You want my blood?” I feel my eyes widen. Why would he want my blood?
“And for you to accompany me somewhere,” he adds for me, but he might as well have kept his stupid, demonic mouth shut. I’m not doing this.
Lots of dark curses use blood… but why would he waste his time putting a curse on me when he could have killed or tortured me plenty of times already? It must be for something else… whatever it is, it can’t be good.
“I'm not going anywhere with you.” I cross my arms and stare at the demon with distaste. He shrugs seeming unbothered by my response, and then vanishes into thin air, before reappearing right behind Lizzy. She jumps, but doesn't move to get away from him.
“If you don't, then your friend here is never going to get to come home. What a shame, really. Perhaps I should save your detective friend the trouble, and drop her off where I rescued you from? Those dark and dingy caves, filled with the scum of your world, I'm sure she'll fit right in,” Solas threatens.
Lizzy tries to move to escape, but he's far too quick. He has his arm around her neck and her pinned against his front in less than a second. He gives me a look over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at me. “Unless you've changed your mind?”
“Seems like you're not exactly giving me much of a choice here,” I respond, trying to remain calm. Panicking right now will only give him even more of an advantage.
Lizzy wriggles in his grip, trying to break free. “You can’t hurt me. We have a fucking deal,” she hisses, struggling to get the words out amidst her uneven breaths. I freeze as I watch Lizzy flinching under his tightening grip, seeing the look in her eyes change to pure, unadulterated fear as she finally realises she’s not quite as safe as she previously believed.
“Leaving you to be harmed by another wasn’t barred in our agreement, you foolish witch
,” Solas responds in a too pleasant tone. Like the idea of leaving my best friend to get torn into by vampires is just so damned appealing he’s struggling to resist.
“What do you want my blood for?” I demand.
“Nothing nefarious,” he answers vaguely, tightening his grip when Lizzy tries to pull away, clearly hoping he’d be at least a little distracted by our conversation.
“By your standards or mine?”
He stares silently at me with his black eyes, not answering my question.
I glance between their two faces and let out a resigned sigh as I come to a most likely terrible decision. “Let her go,” I instruct.
“You agree to my terms?” He doesn’t sound surprised at my change in answer.
“Why not. What’s the worst that could happen?” I ask sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Lizzy freaking owes me for this. I’m sure whatever this is will only cause me more problems later, but I can’t let Solas put my best friend in The Tomb. Whatever the cost is.
He releases her, and she darts away, leaning against the wall while she catches her breath. She gives me a grateful smile, and I try to return it, but I can’t help but think my smile probably looks real uncomfortable and faked.
This is just so damned peachy.
If the coven thinks me talking to Kier is bad, I wonder what they’d make of me having a day trip with an actual demon?
Solas moves towards me, with the slow, deliberate prowl of a predator. He holds out a hand towards me, a silent invitation to take it. I spare a final look at my friend, before turning back to him.
“Can’t you just open a normal portal so that I don’t have to touch you?” I inquire, though I’m already pretty sure of his response. He’s hardly going to miss an opportunity to irritate me further.
“I could, but I won’t. Come on, it’s time for us to leave, Kayla Marie Harlow. We’ve got places to go, things for you to bleed on,” he drawls slowly in reply.