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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I t’s fucking chaos. Spells are flying across the field as the witches on either side fight each other with their magic. Forrest’s fox shifter husband is putting his sharp teeth to good use too, and even the damn field sprites have got involved. They’ve swarmed the area to throw things, bite, and jab at several unlucky eyeballs. They’re surprisingly effective for beings no taller than fourteen inches on the larger end of the scale.

From an outward perspective, things seem to be going in our favour, but something still isn’t right. Ash is definitely moving strangely. I’d write it off as catching a nasty spell from one of the witches if I wasn’t also feeling like a weight has been tied to all of my limbs. It’s not just my physical body that feels weighed down either. There’s a strange dulling to my power as I cast, like a heavy blanket has been thrown over it. It seems to have affected me more slowly than it has with Ash, but it’s undeniably doing something, and it’s nothing good.

A terrible suspicion is nagging at my mind as I reach for the crystal hanging under my shirt. It’s been constantly warm with Eden and Ash’s presences recently, but now, only part of the crystal glows pink. The other half is clearly darker and deeper in colour, undeniably red. Red means iracaedi, and my powers are still very much sealed, which means he’s here.

I can’t let him get to Eden. I won’t.

I catch Torrin’s eye and quickly flash him a few of our hand signs.

Trouble. Demon. Checking it out.

He nods, expression clearly concerned, but he doesn’t have the time to ask questions as a wave of power comes hurtling at his head. He dodges and returns fire with a more precise use of his own magic, following it with a physical blow to the moron’s face. Satisfied my brother has it covered, I go hunting for the monster who destroyed my life once already. He won’t get to do it a second time.

Finding a demon isn’t all that challenging when it’s what you’ve trained for most of your life. As I track him, I find myself crossing into the next field over, feeling the weights on my limbs and magic lessen with every step. I head right towards a large, ugly-looking tree, and a figure leaps down from the branches before I can get too close.

“I was beginning to wonder if I would need to end the enchantment to come and fetch you, or if you would come to me,” the demon says as his yellow and black slitted eyes stare at me with an unreadable expression. I feel a chill shoot down my spine at his voice.

“So, you know.”

It’s obvious that he’s figured it out, but how?

“That you’re not as dead as I believed? Only for the last few minutes,” he answers, a hint of irritation bleeding into his otherwise emotionless words. “The spell was only meant to affect that moronic incubus, delaying him from following when I went to intercept where they had planned to sacrifice her.”

“They’re—”

“The blond one has gone after her, so he will have to rescue her now,” the demon waves a dismissive hand, cutting me off, then continues on as if I hadn't spoken at all. “I had planned to let her see the real danger she was in, that I was correct in my assumption the witches would come for her. I had hoped it would make her a little more…compliant to my protection.”

His protection?

The urge to gouge his eyes out with my bare hands crosses my mind, but I restrain myself from acting too rashly. He’s too dangerous to underestimate. Instead, I reach for my magic, finding it’s still not fully recovered from whatever the hell enchantment he placed on the other field. I need a little more time to recover.

“How did you get past the barrier?” I ask, attempting to stall him.

Eden was right. He really does seem to enjoy the sound of his own voice.

“I walked right in behind the witches when they so generously opened the way for me with her family’s blood. It didn’t take long to decipher their true plans and prepare my own in turn. Your presence caused an unexpected change in those plans.”

“Why?”

“Is it not evident why I would prioritise coming for you first?”

“How did you know? Not what I am, but… who, ” I reply, unable to actually say it, not even to stall him. To call myself anything he would consider as his…it makes me feel physically sick. It’s not as if the blood connecting us means anything more than confirming he’s the fucking cunt who killed my mother.

“The enchantment targets demon biology, so when you reacted to it, it was clear you were what you are, even if I cannot sense your true power.” His eyes seem to narrow in displeasure at not being able to sense it. “As for who , you are the right age, and you look quite like her. Taller and broader, of course, but she always was rather?—”

“Don’t,” I snap, my hands clenching into fists I barely manage to keep to myself. “Do not fucking talk about her.”

“You’re making demands? I’m afraid that isn’t how this is going to work.” He chuckles. Fucking chuckles.

What little control I’ve managed to keep is gone in seconds. Using my magic, which is still slightly stunted from the enchantment, to boost my speed, I throw myself at him. While one fist moves to punch at his throat, I use a silent summoning spell to call a demon-killing blade into my other, fully intending to stab it right into the back of his fucking neck.

He doesn’t move from where he’s standing, doesn’t even flinch.

The demon catches my fist in one hand, twisting my arm back as he deflects the punch. I grit my teeth through the pain, pushing a wave of energy at him as I spin on my feet, bringing up the black-bladed dagger in my other hand. He blocks the energy and catches my other wrist just as easily, giving me an unimpressed look.

“You should be more powerful than this,” he hisses, sounding almost insulted. The demon then tosses me to the ground with enough force to send me rolling. I use the motion to get back on my feet, staying crouched low as I restrain myself from stupidly lashing out again. I have to be smart about this, but he needs to die.

It’s hard to reason with the anger raging like a bull in my chest.

“Where is your power?” he demands, and it’s my turn to laugh now. Whatever fucked-up plans he had for me, they’re all for nothing. My magic is sealed. I’m useless to him so far as demonic abilities and ridiculous levels of power go.

“Gone, and I'm glad. I don’t want anything of yours.”

“That isn’t possible,” he disagrees, taking a step towards me but stopping his approach when he sees me tensing to move, expression becoming considering. “Then again…you shouldn’t be, either. I felt your energy signature cease. It was bled into the walls of that place, the moment of your supposed death.”

At his mention of it, I can’t help but recall what happened. Sealing my magic had hurt. A lot.

I was too young to fully understand what she and the mysterious person she’d found to help her with it were doing. I’m not surprised that the pain of that moment, along with the cutting off of my power’s presence, was enough to convince him it was my death. She’d still cried more than I had that day. Apologising over and over again for the pain of the ritual. I’d felt hurt and confused by it at the time, but that, like many of my complex memories of her, was done out of her love for me. Her desire to protect me from this monster and from those who would hate me for what I am. She hated seeing me in pain, but I know she made the right call. If she hadn’t done it, he would have found me while I was still young enough for him to manipulate.

“She found a way to seal it, didn’t she?” he questions suddenly.

I force my face to remain blank, not confirming anything. Could he find a way to unseal it if he discovered how it was done? Or will he find it too much effort to even try, kill me here right now and go after Eden again? I reach for my power once more, feeling it out. Almost back to normal, but even at my normal, a demon as powerful as he is…it’s not an ideal fight to take on by myself.

“Althea was always rather clever, for a witch.”

“I said don’t—” Pain suddenly erupts through my entire body, too much to finish my sentence as I collapse and curl in on myself. It’s like a burning poison travelling through my veins. I think I cry out from the intensity of it, but I can’t be sure.

It stops as suddenly as it started.

“And I told you that isn’t how this is going to work,” the demon says chidingly. He sighs, then crouches down and rolls me onto my back. He sets a hand on my chest, and I feel a wave of his sickly energy pass through me, forcing a shudder through my frame. “We will have to fix this error, and I know just where to go in order to do it.”

I never wanted to see this place ever again. If it were anyone else, I’d be surprised at the sadistic choice to bring me here, but it makes a twisted sort of sense that he would find it fitting.

Until now, I’ve only been back to the town once. Ava and James had brought me at my request, but I hadn’t wanted to go anywhere near the house itself. I was thirteen years old at the time, filled with too many questions and overwhelming frustration. None of the locals had recognised me as we’d wandered around, but it isn’t as if we’d lived here long. A few months, if that. I had hoped something somewhere would spark memories, good ones. All I had found was a place that felt familiar but not. I also heard this building being loudly referred to as cursed when Ava had attempted to subtly ask someone about it.

The building looks almost nothing like how I remember it, having deteriorated over the years since it was abandoned, but it’s unmistakably the same place. It’s almost as if I see two different rooms when I look around. The mental images layer across each other in my mind, creating an uncomfortable distortion between past and present.

Mould has consumed the once cream walls of the living area we’ve teleported into, having worked its way across almost all of its surface from the darkest parts near the large southern window. Most of the furniture has been removed, but the sofa remains, now tossed onto its side and out of its intended place. The blue of the fabric has faded. Either that, or it’s too covered in dust to see what’s underneath. I ignore the ominous dark stain in the carpet beside it, quickly looking away.

This was the last house I lived in with my mother. It’s where she sealed my magic, and worse, it’s where he killed her.

“Disgusting,” the demon mutters, drawing my attention back into the present as he gives a repulsed look towards the mouldy rug we appeared on, stepping off from it. Not that the carpet is in a much better state.

I try to take the moment of apparent distraction to attempt another attack but find my feet locked in place and my magic unresponsive. The bastard clearly isn’t taking any chances.

His eyes flick up, staring piercingly at me as he registers what I was attempting. “It appears children are more troublesome than I anticipated, even the adult ones.”

“I’m not your child,” I growl. If I could move, I’d go for him again, whether it’s a stupid decision to do it or not. How fucking dare he…the fucking audacity to strike that claim here—where he murdered her.

“You are. Althea may have hidden you for all of these years, but now you will finally take your place where you belong. Once we fix what she broke.”

“It’s gone. You can’t make it come back,” I tell him, despite feeling pretty confident that he’s going to try no matter how well I bluff.

“We shall see.”

“It won’t, but even if it did, I’d only use that power to kill you.”

The demon laughs coldly at the threat, simply flicking his hand and sending me into the wall with a harsh thump. In less than a second, he’s crossed the space between us, his hand pressing against my throat as he forces me to meet his eyes.

“With it unlocked, you will be powerful,” he admits, although it feels more as if he’s somehow making a compliment to himself for his genetic contribution. “As a hybrid, your raw potential will likely exceed even my own. However, do not mistake that raw power for the ability to best me. I have lived for a very long time, and I’ve spent my years of existence wisely, rising to the very top of iracaedi. Your attempt would be nothing more than an infant wielding a sledgehammer.”

“It doesn't change that I will never help you. I hate you, and I’ll spend every single moment trying to end your miserable existence.”

“You will do as I tell you. There will not be any other choice. We could have done this the easy way, had Althea not interfered with my ability to form a bond with you as a child; however, I’m sure pain will be a sufficient motivator. Eventually, you’ll learn your place.”

“Never gonna happen, asshole,” I inform him, my voice sounding far calmer and more confident than I feel.

“Enough,” he orders sharply, pulling me off from the wall just to slam me back into it again. It hurts worse than being thrown into it had. I can imagine the bruises already. “You should have far more respect for your sire. No matter; I will simply have to teach it to you.”

“Good luck with that.”

To my surprise and discomfort, the corners of his mouth curl up, unfazed, but the smile is a cold, twisted expression on his face. “We’ll start by fixing what was broken. Now, behave and try not to scream too much.”