Page 21 of Chaos Carnival (Cirque de Sanguine #2)
Chapter 20: Threading Magic
Tess
“Focus on the threads.” Lilith's voice drifted through my consciousness. “They're everywhere, waiting to be woven. Every curse, every supernatural bond, every bit of alchemy— they all use these same streams. You just have to learn to see them.”
I sat cross-legged inside the circle of black salt and obsidian candles, trying to quiet my mind. After three nights of the moonlight ritual, Maverick's strength was returning, though the celestial poison still lingered. The past few days had been a whirlwind since Lilith had revealed the truth about wraithshades—how they used these fundamental filaments to bind themselves to hosts, the same way Susannah's curse bound my soul to Maverick's. Understanding these connections was our only hope of breaking both.
She'd shown up at Maverick's Crimson City apartment dressed in designer clothes and trailing a whiff of brimstone, her Louis Vuitton luggage materializing beside her. Her first words weren't about wraithshades or curses, but about webs and veins—the building blocks of all magic.
“Your mind is wandering again,” Lilith chided. “The strands don't respond to scattered thoughts. If you can't even see them, how do you expect to understand the bonds that hold you? Or break the ones that hold your friend?”
I took a deep breath, pushing away the memory of her critical assessment of the apartment: “Quaint, I suppose, for a seraph trying to play human.” She'd immediately rearranged the guest room into something more to her tastes, manifesting dark, red wine-colored silk sheets, black candles, and various occult items in what had once been a simple spare bedroom.
I huffed in frustration, uncrossing and recrossing my legs on the hardwood floor. The black salt circle around me felt stifling. It seemed like no matter how hard I strained to see these lines, all I saw was the inside of my eyelids.
“Perhaps if you stopped mansplaining magic to her, she might actually learn something,” Oscar's crystalline voice cut through the tension. After escaping Ivan's carnival, we'd retrieved him from Lux, who'd kept the crystal skull safe in his backpack at the safehouse. The skull sat on Maverick's kitchen counter, somehow managing to look smug despite being made of crystal. Having Oscar's acerbic commentary back felt strangely normal, like reclaiming a piece of my old life.
Lilith's perfect eyebrow arched. “I wondered when you'd next grace us with your wit.”
“My dear, your teaching methods are about as effective as a temperance lecture at an Irish wake.”
I bit back a laugh as Lilith's eyes narrowed at the skull.
“And what would you know about the fundamental threads of fate?” she asked. “Most can't even perceive them, let alone understand how they bind wraithshades to hosts or souls across lifetimes.”
“More than you might think. I spent considerable time in Paris's occult circles. Though I must say, their demon-summoning parties were rather tame compared to some of my Saturday soirées.”
“Oscar,” I warned, though I couldn't keep the amusement from my voice. I took a deep breath and tried to focus again. Time wasn't on our side, and understanding these weavings was our only hope of breaking both bonds.
“Better,” Lilith murmured as another thread responded to my call. It curled around my ribs like a boa constrictor, squeezing until the boundary between magic and bone became uncomfortably blurred. “Your hybrid nature makes you uniquely suited to be a conduit.”
The sounds of Crimson City faded away—the constant hum of traffic, the distant sirens, the bass from the car outside two blocks over. But the protection thread didn't just weave a barrier. It threaded itself through my flesh first, using my own body as a pillar. Each pulse of purple energy sent shivers through my body, rearranging something fundamental about my physical form. It felt like my humanity being slowly unknitted, replaced by something older and stranger.
“Don't fight it,” Lilith instructed as I gasped, watching my fingertips temporarily become transparent, showing the strands weaving through my skin like glowing sutures. “This is why Baphomet found you so interesting, caught between worlds as you are.”
The first few days had been tense, with Maverick watching Lilith's every move like a hawk while she lectured us on wraithshades and soul curses, between making snide comments about mortal amenities. But gradually, a routine had emerged. Thread-weaving lessons in the morning, supernatural theory in the afternoon, and evenings spent analyzing the patterns that bound both wraithshade and curse while Lilith sipped expensive wine and filled in the gaps in our knowledge of demon arcana.
“Even I can see them forming in your mind,” Lilith said, her voice taking on that eldritch echo she got when using her powers. “Do it now, reach for them. These are the same threads that bind Ivan's wraithshade to him, that tie your soul to Maverick's. They're like silk ribbons floating in water. You just have to...”
I saw it then. Or rather, felt it. Lines of countless colors, textures, and thicknesses swirling all around me. Some fizzed with the same dark energy I'd sensed from Ivan's wraithshade. Others shimmered with the familiar resonance of my soul bond to Maverick.
They responded to my attention, dancing just out of reach.
“Come on,” Lilith breathed. “That's it. Now grab one. Any one.”
I mentally reached for a thread that seemed to pulse with a deep purple energy that felt familiar somehow. Like it was beckoning me, not the other way around. Like something I'd always known but never had the words for.
“Good choice,” Lilith said. “That's a protection thread. They're everywhere in this city, begging to be woven. Take it. Understanding these basic weavings is crucial. Only then can we attempt to unravel the wraithshade's grip on Ivan.”
The purple thread slipped through my mental grasp and into my physical form, weaving between muscle fibers and bones, leaving trails of cold fire in its wake. My concentration shattered, frustration bubbling up. Every moment of failure was more time for Ivan to strengthen. “Dammit!”
“Fuck,” Lilith huffed, and I opened my eyes to find her watching me with that irritatingly knowing smirk. “You suck at this. But you're doing better than expected. Most mortals can't even see them, let alone manipulate them.”
“I'm not even mortal anymore,” I reminded her, wiping sweat from my forehead. These sessions always left me drained. Time was running out for both Addie and Maverick.
“No,” she agreed, her dark eyes glinting. “You're not. You're a hybrid. The way you perceive both mortal and immortal lines is precisely why this is so thrilling.”
Like I was some sort of science experiment. I supposed I was to her. The demon sorceress had made it clear she found my situation captivating, particularly how Maverick's claiming had altered my abilities in ways that might help us understand both wraithshade bonds and soul curses.
“Open your eyes,” Lilith commanded. “But hold the weaving.”
I did as she asked, gasping as the more threads I touched, the more my sense of my own body became... uncertain. Were my limbs where they should be? Had I always had this many fingers? Was my skin always this fragile?
“Well,” Lilith said, looking genuinely pleased for the first time since she'd arrived. “Now you're beginning to understand how these bonds work. Perhaps this won't be as tedious as I feared.”
The barrier flickered and dissolved as my concentration broke, but I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Each small success brought us closer to saving Addie, to understanding the curse that bound me to Maverick.
“Don't get too excited,” Lilith warned, rising gracefully to her feet. “This is just the beginning. Tomorrow, we'll work on maintaining the weaving while under distraction. Once you master that,” her smile turned wicked, “we can start examining the wraithshade's specific threads.”
“Well, if you're quite done rearranging the poor girl's molecular structure for the day,” Oscar's crystalline voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, “perhaps we could discuss something more pleasant. Like how our demon houseguest has turned this apartment into a tribute to Victorian Gothic horror.”
I snorted, grateful for the break in tension as I stretched my aching muscles. “I thought you'd appreciate the aesthetic, Oscar. Wasn't that your era?”
“My dear, I appreciate tasteful decoration. This?” The crystal skull somehow managed to look disdainful. “This is what happens when someone's entire understanding of the nineteenth century comes from reading Dracula once and misinterpreting everything.”
Lilith's eyes flashed dangerously. “I lived through your precious Victorian era, you crystalline nuisance. I was there when—“
“Yes, yes,” Oscar interrupted. “You were there when everything happened. Though I must say, if you truly attended Lady Windermere's soirées as you claim, you would know that black candles were considered terribly gauche by 1892. We'd all moved on to blood-red tapers by then. Much more festive.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at the way Lilith's perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms.
“You know,” Oscar continued blithely, “for a being of supposedly infinite power and knowledge, you do seem rather stuck in your ways. Have you considered updating your aesthetic? Perhaps some fairy lights? A nice throw pillow or two?”
“Careful, you might get lost in storage,” Lilith scoffed.
“Darling, you'd miss my commentary. Besides, who else here appreciates the irony of a demon teaching alchemy while dressed in Chanel?”
“You two should get married.” I chuckled, watching their matching expressions of horror. They were not amused, though I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of Lilith's perfectly painted lips.
As I stood on shaky legs, I caught my reflection in the apartment's windows. I watched with horrified fascination as my veins briefly turned the color of each thread I’d touched, purple protection forging dark rivers under my skin. But then it was gone, leaving me wondering if I'd imagined it.
The door clicked open and Maverick strode in, his eyes darting between Lilith and me with barely concealed suspicion. His hair was windswept, leather jacket spotted with rain. “Any progress on the wraithshade bonds?”
Lilith stretched out on the velvet chaise she'd conjured her first day here, her movements liquid and graceful. “Your little halfling managed to grasp the basic threads. Once she masters those, we can start mapping the wraithshade's specific binding patterns.” Her eyes flickered to the poison's spread visible at his collar. “Unless you'd prefer we rush in blind?”
Heat flooded my cheeks at her dismissive tone. My temples throbbed from maintaining focus on the tendrils for so long, and my limbs felt like lead weights. The purple energy still flowed behind my eyes whenever I blinked.
“We're done for now,” I said, gathering the obsidian candles from their points around the circle. The black salt had already started to fade, dissolving into the hardwood floor like it had never existed.
“Until tomorrow.” Lilith's voice carried that edge of command. “We'll work on your stamina. You'll need it to untangle those wraithshade bonds without getting yourself killed.”
I slumped against the back of the couch, my muscles aching from the magical exertion. The webs still flickered at the edges of my vision, taunting me. If I could just master this faster...
“You're being too hard on yourself.” Maverick's hand settled on my hip, his touch grounding me. His eyes met Lilith's. “But this better be worth the time. Every day that passes...”
“Is another day Ivan's wraithshade grows stronger?” Lilith finished. “Trust me, seraph. Your little hybrid needs to understand these fundamentals before we tackle those bonds. Unless you'd prefer she accidentally bind herself to the wraithshade while trying to free your friend?”
Maverick's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. Two more nights of the moonlight ritual and he'd be strong enough. Then we'd have to move, ready or not, as far as I was concerned.
“Let's grab lunch,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on my shoulder. “You need a break.”
Lilith didn’t look up from flipping through a magazine. “Yes, she needs to replenish her energy. Humans are so uptight about… a lot of things….”
“Join us?” Maverick asked, ignoring her comment, though amusement shone through his eyes.
He agreed. Of course he did.
Lilith rolled her eyes. “And watch you two eye-fuck each other across the table? I'll pass.”
“We do not—” I spluttered, heat rushing to my cheeks.
Maverick's deep laugh rumbled through his chest as Lilith's musical chuckle filled the room. I glared at them both, but that only made them laugh harder.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that, halfling,” Lilith said, waving her hand dismissively and dropping the magazine beside her. “I'll order in. You two go... have lunch.” She emphasized the last word with a knowing smirk. “I have some reading to do anyway.” She gestured to a stack of ancient-looking tomes that had materialized on the coffee table. “Till tomorrow morning, Tess.”
As Maverick led me toward the door, Oscar's crystalline voice rang out. “Do try to actually eat something this time. Your last 'lunch break' involved considerably more physical exertion than nutritional intake.”
I froze, mortified heat crawling up my neck. “Oscar!”
“What? I'm merely expressing concern for your dietary habits. Though I must say, the sounds coming from your bedroom suggested quite the... voracious appetite.”
Lilith's laughter echoed through the apartment as Maverick grabbed my hand and pulled me through the door before Oscar could make any more observations about our private activities.
“That skull needs an off switch,” I muttered as we headed down the hallway.
“Cajun or Italian?” Maverick's hand pressed against the small of my back as we waited for the elevator, his touch sending sparks through my already magic-sensitized nerves.
“Don't care.” My legs still felt wobbly from the morning's lessons. “As long as there's food and it's not moving when it arrives.”
The elevator dinged and we stepped inside. Maverick crowded me into the back wall, his body blocking my view of the mirrored doors. “You're pushing yourself too hard.”
“Says the guy who got himself poisoned.” I jabbed a finger at his chest. “How's that feeling, by the way?”
His fingers traced down my chest, making me shiver. “Better. Thanks to your healing magic.” His voice dropped lower. “Under the moonlight. Skin to skin.”
“You're impossible.” But I didn't pull away when he leaned closer.
The elevator stopped and an elderly woman got on, giving us a disapproving look. Maverick grinned at her but kept his hand on my waist as we exited onto the street.
Crimson City's afternoon traffic roared around us, the air thick with exhaust and the lingering scent of rain. My newly awakened senses picked up traces of supernatural energy everywhere, flickers of faerie glamour in shop windows, the residual buzz of protection wards, the oiliness of darker alchemies lurking in the unseen corners.
“You're going to give yourself a migraine,” Maverick said, steering me around a puddle.
“What?”
“Whenever you get that look in your eyes, you get a migraine.”
The gentle concern in his voice made my chest ache. I knew he was right. He'd been watching over me, catching me when the magic overwhelmed me, holding me through the worst of the episodes. But I didn’t have time to learn to control these powers at a cautious pace, so I did push myself as much as I could.
I forced myself, for now, to dial back the awareness. “I need to master this fast—“
“We’ll get her,” he cut me off. “We're no good to Addie if we're both burned out.”
The truth of his words stung, but the gentle squeeze of his hand took some of the edge off. We walked in silence for a block, his thumb tracing absent circles on my hip.
“So,” he said. “Cajun it is. You look like you could use something spicy.”
“Is that another one of your terrible innuendos?”
His laugh echoed off the buildings. “Monstre, if I was making innuendos, you wouldn't have to ask.” I glanced up at him, and he caught my eye. “For example, I’ve got something spicy for you right here.” He cupped his crotch, and I pushed him away, laughing—but he caught me and pulled me close again.
As we walked out into the bright Crimson City afternoon, Maverick kept his hand on my back, steering me through the crowd. I thought about those webs, the way they'd responded to my call, how they seemed eager to unmake me from the inside out. Whatever Lilith was up to, she was teaching me something powerful. Something that scared me as much as it thrilled me.
My reflection in a store window caught my eye. For a moment, I could have sworn the strands moved beneath my skin, changing the topography of my face. Maverick's reflection stood too close behind mine, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense. Two monsters in the making, one already formed, one still transforming.
I just hoped I was strong enough to handle it.