Page 19 of Dark Desire (Dark Souls Spin-off Short Story)

Chapter Ten

“ Z -dog! Wakey, wakey.”

I opened my eyes to find the ridiculously good-looking face of my warlock friend, who had zero boundaries hovering above me upside down. His wide smile and floppy hair were far too close for comfort, and I raised my hand, palming his face to push him away.

“Ow!”

I sat up, cracking my neck because I must have fallen asleep in this chair after Ilaria left, in a far-from-comfortable position.

I rubbed my hands up and down my face, momentarily forgetting about the puckered flesh on one side of my face that felt ugly and tight under my palms. Glancing out of the window at the pitch-black night, I turned to Leif.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly ten. You missed family night.”

“I didn’t come here for that.”

“I heard. You came for me.” He winked and threw himself onto the bed. Resting his hands behind his head, he smirked as I groaned and stood up to stretch my aching muscles.

“I need your help.”

“How are you, my handsome friend? How's Heroux? Have you settled in alright? How's life as the new leader of a coven treating you? Are you getting enough pussy and dick to satisfy your extremely high sex drive?” He fired off question after question as I ignored him and walked into the bathroom to splash my face with cold water. “I know I’m your only friend, Z-dog, so let me give you a lesson in how this works. You’re supposed to show an interest in other people's lives, ask them questions, listen, and give advice, rather than just demanding something of them straight away.”

“Is that right?” I grumbled, drying my face with a towel before staring at my reflection in the mirror above the sink.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the scarred tissue on my cheek, the missing patch of hair at my temple that will never grow back, or the raised, mangled skin on my shoulder, chest, one of my arms, and hand.

I heard Leif sigh with exasperation before his footsteps approached me, and he leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded. “What do you need, demon?”

“She’s powerful for a lone witch. She has complex wards to keep me out of her house. She killed a fae using dark magic. I need to find a way to bypass her wards and something that will weaken her powers.”

Leif tilted his head. “Describe the wards. What has she used? Crystals?”

“Yes. The path and gate are lined with various crystals, and she has charms hanging from the church. If I so much as touch the gate, my blood burns and I am propelled metres back on my ass.”

The warlock smirked. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, shoving past him to the table and taking a mouthful of the warm stew. I frowned, expecting it to be freezing cold by now, until I glanced over to Leif, who gave me a wink. He’d obviously warmed it with his magic. “Thanks.” I sat down in the chair and dug in, feeling famished.

“Do her wards repel everyone?”

I shook my head with a mouthful of slow-cooked heart. “No. Just me. I think. Luka could enter. So can humans. So far, I’m the only one I have seen it work against.”

Leif began pacing the floor, bobbing his head with his hands clasped behind his back. “Sounds like a specific restriction spell layered with protective wards to keep those who want to cause harm away.”

“Can you break it?”

“Not likely and certainly not without her knowing. But I can do one better.” He grinned wickedly as he pulled a shimmering black crystal from his pocket.

He muttered Latin under his breath while holding it in his palm, then presented it to me.

I took it, examining the shiny stone closely without sensing or seeing anything of interest. “As long as you have that on you, her magic will not be able to detect your presence.”

My eyes darted up to his smug face. “Really? This will work?”

“Your lack of faith in my abilities deeply offends me.”

Shoving the rock into my jeans pocket, I gave him a very small half-smile. “If it works, I’ll offer my most sincere apology.”

“I look forward to it. And here is the other crystal I promised you. You need me, just rub it and say my name, and I’ll appear like your sexy genie–come to grant all your desires.”

“Fucking hell,” I groaned. “But thanks.”

“I’ll be right back with a few things you can use to restrict her magic.” He created a portal of swirling liquid with a wave of his hand and stepped through it. Five minutes later, I had finished every bit of the stew and he was back.

Leif dumped a leather holdall at my feet, and I leaned down, rummaging through it and pulling out item after item.

I raised my eyebrow in question when I lifted a set of steel handcuffs.

“Kinky, huh? Snap those on her wrists and she can’t use any magic,” Leif explained.

“Same for those ropes. They’ve been doused in a poisonous chemical that leaves us feeling weak and powerless.

There is also a sleeping potion that you could use if you can get to her drink to spike it and a truth serum.

Two drops are all you need in a beverage, and she’ll be forced to tell you all her secrets. Will that be enough?”

Rotating the pearlescent liquid in a small vial, I felt at a loss for words. This was more than enough. She’d be completely powerless and at my mercy. “I owe you. Thanks, Leif.”

“I guess it’s always handy to have a Demonski Upir owe you a favour,” Leif chuckled, folding his arms across his chest and watching me rifling through the bag. “So, what’s she like? This evil witch? Does she have a name?”

“Darcelle Knightsbridge,” I said, hating how the sound of her name on my tongue tasted like the most tempting poison.

“Can’t say that name rings any bells. I'll check the council archives for any information on her background. You said she’s a lone witch?”

“Living among humans. Or I should say, hiding among them.”

“Hmm.” Leif frowned. “Does she know you’ve found her?”

“Yes.”

“And she isn’t running?”

I exhaled and sat back in the chair to look at him. “No. She’s…surrendering.” The image of her with my cock rammed down her throat came to mind. I pushed it away.

“Surrendering? She wants to die?”

“No. I don’t think so. But she’s accepting it.”

“That’s weird.” Leif rubbed his jaw, sitting at the end of the bed.

“Don’t you think that’s strange? After hundreds of years hiding and running from you, you find her and she doesn’t put up a fight?

She’s obviously smart if she’s set up wards and has been protecting herself for this long.

It’s strange that she’d just hand herself over to you. ”

“Maybe she knows now that I’ve found her, it’s over. I’ll never stop hunting her and she can’t outrun me. I’ll always find her.”

“I guess.” Leif shrugged. “So, what was her excuse for turning you into a raven and abandoning you?”

“Evidently, she didn’t want a Demonski Upir as a soulmate. But she couldn’t quite watch me burn alive either.”

Leif’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, man. Fuck. I’m sorry. That’s twisted. Your soulmate?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, grabbing half my hair and tying it back out of my face. “Twisted is one way to describe it.”

His eyes swerved down to the bag of treats he had just handed me and he swallowed thickly. “And you’re still going to kill her?”

I stood up, zipping up the bag and throwing it over my shoulder. “Tell your family I said thanks for their hospitality. I’ll be back soon.” I moved towards the window and stepped onto the ledge, allowing Ambroz out.

“Hey, demon!” Leif shouted, causing me to glance over my shoulder. “If you ever need to talk, you know how to find me. Whatever you need, I got you, boo.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the smile. “Yeah. You too, warlock.”

“C orvus hanc vocationem audi. Sanguinem meum offero sicut magica tua moratur, non tempore nec intervallo alligata. Te ad hanc terram voco. Sentire potentiam meam, responde vocationi eius. Corvus me reperies. Et te liberabo, ” I muttered the spell I had adjusted and adapted from my previous attempt and cut my palms with a knife before digging them into the soil behind the church.

Thankfully, the police had vacated the premises and allowed me back in.

I was still a suspect and was called in for questioning tomorrow, which meant I had to give this another shot.

With the masked assassin hunting me and the possibility of being arrested, I really couldn’t leave this for another day. I had to keep trying.

When I felt my magic retreating into my skin, I growled in frustration. Why couldn’t I connect? Why didn’t I feel anything? The last few times this had been happening, whereas a few months ago, I had at least felt a few tingles or a faint connection to the raven.

My spell was met with silence. A void.

Again, I chanted the Latin spell, louder this time and with greater resolve.

“Raven, hear this call. I offer my blood as my magic lingers in yours, bound not by time nor distance. I summon thee to this land. Feel my power, answer its call. Raven, find me. And I shall set thee free.” Cutting my wounds deeper, I hissed at the sharp sting, then slammed my palms into the dirt once more.

Nothing.

I sat back onto the balls of my feet and panted, gazing up at the moon above.

It was only a waxing gibbous moon tonight.

I might have better luck tomorrow if I’m still alive.

Or perhaps I could try to call upon the St Wythren’s witches once more.

Maybe they would recognise my call as the witch from the night they died and answer me.

Then I could summon a demon to help me find the raven.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Never in a million years did I think I would summon a demon from the Underworld.

But I couldn’t die knowing that creature was still trapped and it was all my fault.