Page 18 of Discord and Cinder (Fire Witches of Salem #7)

DISCORD

“I suggest we run.” I leaned forward, checking the streets for adversaries, but Cinder took my suggestion without hesitation. She darted toward my secret residence, leaving me no choice but to follow.

The siren still blaring, we slipped inside before the locals could decipher the signal. Cinder went for the light switch, but I caught her hand, holding it tightly as the message blasted through my psyche, filling my mind with the rules of the game and information about the bounty.

She swayed and clutched her head. “Holy mother of magic. Ouch.”

“Everyone in the realm now knows we’re fugitives.” I removed my mucus-stained jacket and paced to the closet before tossing it onto the floor. The clothing here, though magically preserved, was four centuries old and out of fashion, but what did it matter? I was an outlaw in my own land.

I grabbed a pair of pants from a shelf and shook them out. The coarse fabric didn’t stretch at all, and its roughness made the clothes I currently wore feel like butter against my skin. I sighed and dropped the pants on top of my discarded jacket. It appeared I’d be on the run in formal attire.

Cinder took off her boots and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Where can I change?”

I pointed to the bathroom, and she stepped inside, kicking the door behind her.

It didn’t close all the way, leaving me an obstructed view of her as she undressed.

She tugged the shredded dress over her head, and blood rushed to my groin.

It seemed Belira had neglected to lend her any undergarments.

She bent down and stepped into the satiny swath of fabric I’d found in her pack. My, how underwear had changed over the centuries. My dick hardened, and I licked my lips before turning around and beating a fist against the wall.

Before my thoughts had turned to a hollow void in the dark prison, I had vowed that I would never associate with a witch again. My hatred and distrust of Cinder’s kind hadn’t waned, yet I found myself inexplicably drawn to her.

The desire to protect her, to provide for her, and to make her my own overwhelmed me.

It had to be the blood bond fabricating these emotions.

She had done nothing but cause me pain and strife from the moment she resurrected me, and I would take pleasure in her demise if only it wouldn’t mean my own ending as well.

A growl rumbled in my chest, the anger that consumed me shifting its focus to myself. How could I have let this happen? I replayed the moment she vanquished me in my mind. She’d moved quickly, plunging the dagger into my heart without considering the consequences.

I had let my guard down, assuming her self-preservation instinct would force her to consider my vanquishment meant her death. It appeared that was an instinct she lacked.

Cinder was rash, single-minded, arrogant, and bold. Her impulsiveness put us both in danger every time she opened her mouth, and I couldn’t help but admire her for all those qualities and more.

I was a fool.

“Where’s my grimoire?” she asked from behind me, and I turned around to find her fully clothed in black pants and a dark gray shirt. She set her bag on a chair and rested a hand on her hip, drawing my attention to her curves.

My hands fisted of their own accord. “I traded it to the seer for a glimpse of the past four hundred years.”

“You used my spell book to pay for a history lesson?” Her expression was incredulous. “Couldn’t you have watched a few documentaries on the Discovery Channel? I need it back.”

“I’m afraid it’s gone, and we have more pressing matters to deal with. We’re being hunted…or have you forgotten?” I opened a panel in my closet wall and retrieved a leather satchel.

Cinder glared, pursing her lips. “Fine. What’s the plan? Whose house is this? Another ex-girlfriend?”

I set the satchel on the table and loosened the drawstring. “This residence is mine.”

“I thought you lived in the palace.” She crossed her arms.

“Officially, I do.”

“You mean did.”

I blew out a hard breath and took a hunting knife with an eight-inch blade from the bag. “Before I was imprisoned, I officially resided in the palace. Lucifer, as you have learned, can be intense. I built this home as a secret residence where I could escape to seclusion when I needed it.”

I laughed dryly at the memory and set down the knife. “I used to crave solitude. I was created to instill conflict and disagreement in everyone around me, but even the essence of discord itself gets tired of the ruckus.”

“I get it.” She picked up the knife and examined the blade, weighing it in her hand. “You were the devil’s right hand, but sometimes you have to be your own man.”

I flicked my gaze to her eyes, expecting to be met with ridicule. My desire for solitude, my need for separating myself from the position I was created to perform, was a weakness at best. Some would even call it my fatal flaw.

She met me with compassion and understanding.

“Before all this, I was being groomed to take over as High Priestess of Salem. But something about it doesn’t sit right.

There has always only ever been one, and when it comes time for me to be that person, I’ll have to be prepared to shoulder it all on my own. ”

“And you aren’t ready to accept the challenge.” I took a thigh holster from the bag and strapped it on.

“I would have been, if my parents hadn’t done what they did.

I was learning to do it all on my own, but it always felt so…

lonely.” She held my gaze for a moment before blinking rapidly and shaking her head.

“Anyway. Being High Priestess is my birthright, so I’ll figure it out.

Being hunted like wild game in Hell, I did not sign up for. ”

“And I did?” I yanked the strap on my holster, narrowing my eyes, her final words needling me.

“What did you think would happen when you bound yourself to a demon and vanquished us both? Did you expect me to drop to my knees and kiss your feet? To magically know where your parents were and be willing to send you all across the veil with a flick of my wrist?”

“Something like that.” She shrugged. “Look, I didn’t expect unicorns shitting rainbow sherbet, but I figured you’d have some pull since you’re…you were…a prince and all.”

I huffed and continued strapping on my weapons. Cinder opened her bag and did the same.

“You do realize you’re dead, I hope. Your parents too.

” I tossed the empty weapon bag into the closet.

“Your strength allowed you to maintain your corporeal form when you crossed the veil, but unless you have a necromancer on the other side, you cannot go back alive without Lucifer’s blessing.

Lucifer’s… The man who just put a price on our heads. ”

She drummed her fingers on the back of a chair. “I’m sure there’s another way.”

“Are you?”

Her jaw tightened. “First things first. Let’s find Hecate. I’ll get her to forgive you and Luci, and I’ll convince her to return to the palace. You’ll get back in his good graces, and then we’ll go from there. Maybe Hecate can send me home.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Like a Sunday morning.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, a look of confusion contorting her features. “Wait. If you knew you were headed to your secret house here, why did you drag me through that forest? Why didn’t you do your little space-bending thing and bring us right here?”

“With the way you reacted last time, a jump that far might have killed you.”

Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “I thought you said I’m already dead.”

“Obliterated you. Decimated your soul. You know what I mean.” I focused on my mark emblazoned on her arm, and it glowed softly in response. “It is in my best interest to keep you in your current state of existence, remember?”

She looked at her arm and ran a finger over the sigil, making my entire body hum as if she’d wrapped me in silk. “Then it’s in my best interest to keep this baby here as long as possible.”

“Indeed.” I opened a cabinet and dialed the code to my safe. Inside lay three stacks of ashmarks. I took them all and handed one to Cinder.

“What’s this?” She tilted her head, examining the bills made of magically flexible obsidian. Their denominations were marked in ancient sigils, and red veins pulsed through them as if they were alive.

“Ashmarks. Money. We’ll need it to buy food and supplies on our journey.” I shoved a stack into each pocket. “Can you cast a cloaking spell to change your appearance?”

She put the ashmarks into a small pouch on the front of her bag and crossed her arms. “I might have been able to if I had my grimoire. Spells like that require potions.”

“You don’t have one memorized?”

“I’ve never needed one.”

“At the very least, I will change mine.” I turned toward the mirror and focused on my face, allowing my magic to build in my chest before forcing it upward. My skin heated and tingled as it should have, but my appearance did not change.

“You still look the same to me,” she said.

I tried again, focusing harder, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Now you just look constipated,” Cinder said.

I opened my eyes and blew out a hard breath. “It appears some of my powers were stripped along with my title.”

“Well, that’s frigging fantastic.”

“Not in the slightest.” My stomach soured, my fury finding a new culprit to focus on.

“I was Lucifer’s right hand for eons, his most trusted advisor, his confidant…his friend. This bounty he’s placed, the stripping of my title and my powers, is nothing short of betrayal. And all this over a woman? It’s unfathomable.”

“Not really.” Cinder stepped toward a window, pulling the curtain aside to peer out. “Love makes people do crazy things…like curse an entire bloodline.”

Lucifer had been in love with Hecate. I knew that because he had confided in me about their relationship many times. But to completely uproot his court…to ask for his right hand’s head on a stake…all because of a woman scorned?

“If she meant that much to him, he never should have wagered the amulet,” I said.

She shrugged. “Maybe he thought there was no way he could lose.”

“We must find her.”

“Pretty sure that’s been our plan since the game began.” She stepped to the side, dropping the curtain and peeking through a slit. “How many people know this is your house?”

“None.” I stepped behind her and peered out the opening in the curtain, where a throng of mid-level demons fanned out around the front of the building.

“It looks like a few dozen or so just figured it out,” she said. “Got a back door?”

“This way.” I paced down the hall with Cinder on my heels. When we reached the exit, I checked the window and held up a hand to stop her from barging out the door.

Six shedims blocked our escape.

“How do you think they found us?” Cinder peered out, curling her lip at the sight of them. With their cracked charcoal skin, flat noses, and jagged teeth dripping with black drool, they appeared grotesque even to me.

“They sense my energy. Mid- and lower-level demons are drawn to my power. Before I became a fugitive, they would also do my bidding.”

“And you didn’t think to cloak your so-called secret house?” She scoffed. “I’m surprised no one found you here before.”

“I had it cloaked. The magic has apparently worn off.” I ground my teeth. “Would one of your spells last four hundred years?”

She pursed her lips. “Maybe.”

The front door rattled, and the bang of a shoulder smacking the surface reverberated through the building.

“Shedims have two hearts in the center of their chests.” I clutched my longest dagger in my hand. “You must pierce both to decimate them.”

“Got it.” Cinder opened her bag and rummaged through it.

The front door cracked. The demons outside howled.

“We must go now,” I said.

“Okay.” She retrieved an envelope before positioning the backpack on her shoulders and buckling it at her waist. “I’m ready.”

I gripped the doorknob, and every muscle in my body tensed. “If you die in the Underworld, your soul will be obliterated. There is no coming back. Not even Lucifer can will it.”

“You worry about you.” She slid a hunting knife from its scabbard. “I can take care of myself.”

I hoped to Hades she was right.