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“—do you take card?”
“Yes,” Ambrosius replied, a bit more curtly than he usually did.
The technology to run credit cards was still old-fashioned, a clunky device that was decades behind, but Ambrosius was forced to work. The Antiquarium had a limited amount of technology at any given time. The spirits tended to interact poorly with such devices, and it was incredibly rare for any of them to attach properly to one. The particular radio device the unfortunate human soul carried a particularly nasty spirit, but Ambrosius didn’t care about that. Something was wrong, and not knowing what irritated him.
“Than—”
“All sales are final,” Ambrosius interrupted. “Have a good day.”
And with more force than he meant to, Ambrosius reached deeply for the chain that connected the radio to him and shoved the human out the door. He heard the man fall as the bell chime slowly came to an end.
“Where are you?” Ambrosius hissed under his breath. “Whatare you?”
This was different, something new had taken root, but what? Ambrosius found himself pacing, twirling his cane as he went. Anything to get out the pent-up energy of not knowing what it was. He supposed it was possibletheyhad found a new item. Crafty vermin, sneaking them into the Antiquarium when its Antiquarian had been unaware. Yet, Ambrosiuscould not feel the weight of the new binding so much as he felt it pulling at his frame like—
A crack split through his mind.
“Gwen.”
Ambrosius’ form swelled, his true body pressing against the chains angrily. In the pit of darkness, his gruesome claws reached toward that fraying bit of yarn in desperation. She was failing, she wasfalling,and the connection between them was unraveling. If he couldn’t reach it, the Antiquarium would never let him go to her. The demon strained, pushing the limits of his body until muscles tore. When the tip of his claw finally wrapped around the end of that string, Ambrosius felt his body shift and dissolve into nothing.
When he manifested inside the apartment, it was to a sight that nearly tore Ambrosius’ human form apart. His eyes fractured, splitting into several glowing cyan orbs that could barely be contained within their sockets. Limbs stretched, growing jagged and thin as his spine lengthened until he nearly touched the ceiling. Serrated teeth erupting from his gums as his bones cracked and popped.
Ambrosius tore the monster from Gwen’s prone form by the back of his skull, claws sinking deep. He shoved him onto the floor, and once he recognized the twisted, vacant face, set his rage upon him. The demon hooked a claw into the man’s open mouth and viciously sliced down to his navel. The monster came apart, hot entrails hitting the floor. Within the contents, Ambrosius could see half bitten flesh that had once belonged to Gwen.
It was easy to hate the creature that had tasted what Ambrosius could not. Jealousy suffocated his insides as he thought of it. If anyone was going to eat his preciouswarlock, it should have been him. Not thisthingthat barely deserved to lick the floor she walked on.
If Ambrosius had time, he would draw it out more, but this reanimated creature had no sensation for pain. And there were more pressing matters at hand. Ambrosius shoved the creature back by the shoulder, brought his knee up, and slammed his foot down onto its skull. The impact was so hard that the monster’s head cracked like a watermelon, spraying blood and gray matter across the room.
Having thoroughly finished the job, Ambrosius wiped his foot on the man’s jeans and followed the trail of blood back to the bathroom. When he entered the doorway, Ambrosius paused.
Gwen laid in a pool of her own blood, and for a moment, the demon was transfixed at her partially eaten form. It was normal to be entranced by death, as it was what any demon would hope for. The corruption, the fear, the madness. All of it led to this point for humans … andfuck, if Gwen didn’t make it sobeautiful. Gorgeous in life, gorgeous in death, it didn’t matter to Ambrosius because she waseverythinghis terrible existence could have ever hoped for.It was so easy to get lost in the vacant look in her eyes, to lift her still hand and feel pride at the flesh beneath her fingernails. She had fought as best as her humanity had allowed her.
Ambrosius wouldn’t mourn her … because he hadnointention of letting her go.
With a flick of his wrist, water quickly began to fill the bathtub. Ambrosius gathered Gwen’s broken body in his arms as his spectral hands pulled the curtain aside. Hestepped into the tub, shoes filling with water before he sat down. Leaning back against the end of the tub, he maneuvered Gwen so her back pressed against his chest, submerging them both in water.
Ambrosius cradled her jaw with one hand, turning her face toward him and used his fingers to pry her mouth open. The other hand moved toward her damaged body, hovering over the fatal injury. Ambrosius brought Gwen’s face near, pressed his forehead and the bridge of his nose against hers.
Then hebreathed.
Power—the same power that sustained his form—was expelled from his throat and entered Gwen’s mouth. Ambrosius felt it linger on her tongue and breathed again. This time, it went deeper, past the back of her mouth, down her throat.
Her soul reached out to him, welcoming his spirit in a crying embrace and—
Gwen gasped, a heavy breath that Ambrosius matched. She blinked rapidly, lashes brushing his own face, but the demon kept breathing. With every shuddering gasp for breath, he could feel his power work through her. It reached the injury and reacted. New tissue boiled into existence, expanding and melting into old flesh. The pain was excruciating for her, yet Ambrosius held onto her with every shaking breath. He didn’t stop until her abdomen was whole again.
“There you are, my gorgeous girl.”
“Ambrosius,” Gwen said, so weakly against his lips. “I’m so—”
He kissed her.
He didn’t want to think of what she could have said then, because the words were too much for him to endure. This woman—his warlock—had nearly left him for death. Ambrosius had little care for the thing beyond the ether, the unknown entity that occupied the space spirits dwelled. But the thought of Gwen being alone with it set his blood on fire. Nothing and no one would have any part of her as long as his spirit existed.
Ambrosius held onto her until Gwen complained about pruning skin.
Reluctantly, he gathered her from the filthy water and peeled the layers of soaked clothes from her. Unlike Gwen, when Ambrosius vacated the bathtub, he was completely dry. As if he hadn’t submerged himself in water at all. At one point, Ambrosius had to sit Gwen on the edge of the bathtub as her frame was quite weak. He knelt before her, examined her abdomen, and pressed his fingers to make sure his essence had made her flesh strong. Once satisfied, he pressed an open mouth kiss there. It made her shiver with both fear and want, but there would be time for that later.