Page 9 of Discord and Cinder (Fire Witches of Salem #7)

CINDER

“F rigging harpy-hounds and their dagger claws.” I gingerly touched the bruises my wardens had created when they’d shoved me into the cell.

I’d tried negotiating with the fiends, explaining my predicament, but I might as well have been talking to a broomstick.

All they’d done was grunt and bark the entire way here.

One of them had snapped at me, but the leader had wacked him on the snoot, reminding him of Discord’s order not to hurt me. “No bite,” he’d said before shoving me into the cell and slamming the door.

I waited until their footsteps receded before grabbing the bars to give them a shake. Big mistake.

A bazillion volts of electricity rocketed through my body, sending me careening backward into a stone wall. My head smacked it with a thwack , and my vision wavered as my knees buckled and I sank to the floor.

I squeezed my eyes shut before blinking three times, bringing my prison back into focus. Three stone walls surrounded me, with a gate made of metal bars closing off the rectangle at the front, a stone floor and ceiling adding the finishing touches to my claustrophobic cage.

My palms stung, bright red lines marring my skin where the electricity got me.

As a fire witch, I could withstand heat and flames that would cook another witch alive.

Needless to say, I wasn’t used to getting burned.

Not by fire anyway. Electricity, on the other hand, could burn me like a mother… Chemicals too.

I cast my gaze to the ceiling, making sure there wasn’t a massive showerhead up there ready to rain acid on me if I tried to escape.

The only things occupying space in this cell besides me were a stone slab attached to the wall and a hole in the back corner of the floor that I could only imagine was supposed to be my toilet.

That or it was the passage some hellish animal would crawl through to come eat me in my sleep. Yikes.

I scrambled to my feet and peered inside, but I couldn’t see a thing. Lighting a fireball in my hand, I held it over the hole, illuminating the top half of the crevice. I still couldn’t see the bottom, so I turned my hand over and dropped the flames inside.

A whoosh of rancid air shot out of the hole when it reached the bottom, and my fire danced across the surface of a sludgy pool of muck.

Yep, definitely a toilet. Gross.

I extinguished the flames, lest I light a ball of methane and create a literal shit storm in my cell, and I tugged my phone from my pocket. No signal, of course. This was Hell, after all.

I set the useless device on the slab and focused my attention on the lock. Fire wouldn’t melt it. I knew it wouldn’t, but without a spell kit or a lock-picking set, I had to give it a shot.

It started as a spark in the core of my being, the magical fire building inside me, gathering in my chest, growing hotter and hotter, until I could no longer contain it. Heat rolled down my arms, blue-tinged flames erupting on my palms before I shot streams of witch fire at the lock.

If I were in a mundane prison, the entire mechanism would have melted. But I was in Hell, so…you guessed it…not a damn thing happened.

I called the fire back and dropped onto the stone slab. I started to hang my head in my hands, but the moment they made contact, the electrical burns screamed at me. Ugh ! If only I had Patrice’s healing salve.

“Think, Cinder. There’s got to be a spell that’ll bust open this gate without a potion.

” I racked my brain, sorting through all the charms and incantations I’d memorized over the years.

I remembered the spell I’d used to break into the Boston Magic Society’s library, but it was a doozy.

That spell didn’t just open doors, it temporarily neutralized wards and erased all evidence of entry. I’d definitely need a potion for that.

“It has to be something simple. Oh, I know.” I rose and stood in front of the bars, holding my hands toward the lock. “Iron bound and sealed so tight, hear my call and yield to might. By flame and force, I break your core. Unlock, unbar, and open the door.”

Magic gathered in my chest and flowed down my arms, shooting out my fingertips and entering the lock. I leaned forward, waiting, listening for the telltale thunk of the mechanism disengaging.

Nothing happened.

“Son of a bitch.” I shook my hands and gently pressed my palms together, closing my eyes and trying my best to ignore the pain. “I call on the goddess Hecate. Please hear my prayer and grant me the power to escape this cell.”

“You’re lucky that cell is enchanted to keep magic from escaping.” I recognized Discord’s deep, gravelly voice, but I chose to ignore him.

“Hecate, please hear me.”

“I warned you not to invoke your goddess in this realm. You have no idea the extent of her wrath when she finds out what we’ve done.”

I opened my eyes and arched a brow. “What we’ve done? I hope you’re not including me in that plurality.”

“You are as much a part of the problem as I am.” He crossed his meaty arms, his biceps flexing with the move.

“I’m not the one who got bested by a witch. Twice.” I mimicked his posture, though my muscles barely protruded beneath my skin.

His brow slammed down, and he stared at me for a few seconds before he spoke. “How did you recognize me?”

I rested my fingertips on my hips, careful to avoid irritating the burns. “I’m the one who summoned you, dingus. How could I not?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m wearing a shroud. I can change form in this realm.”

I shrugged. “You look the same to me.”

He flicked his gaze to the sigil on my arm, and it glowed deep red. “Interesting. It seems our bond allows you to see through my disguise.”

“Lucky me.” I splayed my fingers and dropped my hands to my sides.

“What happened to your arms?” He stepped toward the bars, his eyes tightening even more. “And your hands? I ordered the sentry dogs not to harm you.”

“Yeah, well…” I gestured to the bruises before holding up my hands. “And these lovely wounds are courtesy of your electrified bars. If you could turn the pain amplification down a notch or two, that would be fantastic.”

He growled, but I couldn’t tell if he was mad at the harpy-hounds or at me. “I have no control over the pain you feel. This realm was designed to torture mortal souls. You should not be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have had your minions lock me up, yet here we are. Let me go so I can find my parents, and I’ll get out of your hair.” I stepped toward the bars. “Oh, wait. You don’t have any.”

“You’ve done nothing but lie since you summoned me. Why should I release you?”

I focused on my inborn gift, lacing my words with persuasive magic and making myself appear confident and in charge. “You know I’m not a threat. All I want is to find my parents and take them home. If you help me, I’ll be gone before you know it.”

A deep chuckle emanated from his chest. “I can feel the silver-tongue magic you’re attempting to use through our bond, but you’re wasting your vim. Magic can’t escape your cell, and even if it could, I am immune to your wicked power.”

I ground my teeth because, dammit, he was immune. He’d have brought me to Hell willingly if he wasn’t. “First of all, my power is not wicked. I never make anyone do anything they don’t want to.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you do exactly that all the time.”

“I do not.” I reached for the bars, but they zapped my fingertips before I could grab them. “Son of a banshee.” I shook my hands and took a step backward so I wouldn’t be tempted to do it again.

“What you call my silver tongue is passive magic. It’s not mind control, and I’m not taking away anyone’s free will.

It only affects me, not the person I’m talking to, so if you’re feeling something when I do it, it’s because of that symbol carved into your skull.

” I held up my arm. “And because of this.”

“Which you will remove.”

If only I knew how. Other than my bleeding on his skull, I had no idea how I’d formed this intense bond, and I doubted reversing the simple, temporary connection spell I’d cast would do it. But I couldn’t let him know that. For now, it was best he thought I simply refused.

Refusing put the power in my hands. “Are you sure you want me to do that? I can see through your disguise, thanks to our bond, and you can see through my influence glamour. If I remove the marks, you’ll be exposed to my full potential.

You’ll want to help me find my parents. Believe me, I am very persuasive. ”

“Hmm.” He extended a claw and ran it across the bars, making a tink, tink, tink sound. Apparently, the hex on my cell only affected the person inside it.

I blew on my palms, willing the agonizing burn to subside. My attempt only made it worse. I sank onto the stone slab and rested my hands atop my knees, breathing deeply and focusing on my thoughts rather than the pain.

I was useless inside this cell. All I’d seen in this realm so far were the massive cave-like entrance and the inside of these walls.

When the harpy-hounds had whisked me away, they’d flown so quickly that my surroundings had blurred.

I had no idea where my parents might be, nor how to get out of this realm once I found them.

Discord was my only ticket home. Maybe I should start being nice. “Look, I’m sorry I vanquished you. It’s just… My parents are here because a demon tricked them, and I really, really need to take them home.”

“Your role as High Priestess began because your mother made a deal and paid the price.” He leaned against the wall beside the gate. “Now you’ve attempted the same and left me no choice but to imprison you.”

“No, this is different. I never offered you my soul.” I winced at the stabbing burn in my hands and shook them.

“Yet you’ve bound mine to yours.” He inclined his chin. “You’re in pain.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I stood and paced the width of my cell. “Your hex nearly turned me into a Kentucky fried witch.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t understand your references.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Stand still.”

I turned toward him. “Why?”

He inhaled deeply, his gaze locked on his sigil on my arm. The mark glowed again, growing brighter and brighter until a cooling sensation spread through my entire body. My skin tingled, my muscles contracting and then relaxing as his essence washed through me.

“Better?” he asked.

My head spun, and I rested a hand against the wall to steady myself, gasping and jerking it away when I realized what he’d done. “You healed me. How?”

“My power is immense in this realm.”

“I bet.” I laughed dryly and held my wrist, gazing at my palm.

Once red and angry, my skin was now smooth and unmarred.

My other hand was normal too. I rotated the ankle I’d rolled earlier, and it moved freely, without a shred of pain.

The glow on the sigil subsided, and the cooling sensation dissipated from my body.

I rubbed my hands together and looked at him quizzically. “Why did you help me?”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it quickly, his expression morphing into one of confusion. “I didn’t like seeing you in pain.”

“Why not?”

He huffed a breath through his nose. “I assume the magic connecting us has infused me with empathy toward you.”

“Then why won’t you let me go?”

He straightened, his chest expanding as he recovered from his moment of uncertainty. “You have no idea the extent of damage?—”

“You keep saying that. The extent of damage, the extent of wrath, the extent of my boot up your ass if you don’t stop being so cryptic.

” I crossed my arms, shifting my weight to one leg.

“I’ll continue to have ‘no idea’ until you tell me, so why don’t you explain it to me like I’m five to be sure I understand.

Or do you think I’m too stupid to comprehend the ‘extent of everything’ I’ve caused?

” I made air quotes and crossed my arms again.

“You must be stupid to voluntarily cross into Hell. Apparently, it’s genetic.” He mirrored my posture, so I dropped my arms to my sides.

“Fine. Don’t tell me anything.” I rested a hand on my hip. “Leave me here to rot, and you can deal with all the ‘extents’ yourself.”

His lips twitched. “You have two sisters.”

“And?”

“You said the curse that cost me four hundred years of my existence hadn’t come to fruition, that you and every High Priestess before you made certain it never would. Yet a third daughter exists in your realm. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie. I am making sure it doesn’t happen. That’s why I’m here.” I started to reach for the bars but thought better of it. “Wait. How do you know about my sisters?”

“The seer showed me all I missed of this realm while I was imprisoned. She attempted to show me Isabel in yours, but the vision focused onto you and your sisters before it dissipated.”

“Then you know it hasn’t happened yet. My parents summoned a demon who promised to deliver you to them. That plan didn’t work out in their favor, so I did a little breaking and entering and committed a few magical crimes to find you myself, and here we are.”

I spread my hands. “You’re going to break the curse.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I would have complied, had you not vanquished me prematurely.”

I shrugged. “My parents are suffering. I had to improvise.”

“You—” He froze, his muscles going rigid, a white glaze forming over his eyes. He didn’t breathe, didn’t so much as twitch a lip as he stood there in what looked like some sort of trance.

“Discord?” I focused on the connection I’d formed with him, searching the invisible tether that should have connected us for a sign of life, but I felt nothing. It was as if someone had plucked his consciousness from his body, leaving only an empty shell.

The tether tightened, the low demon vibration I’d grown accustomed to returning, getting deeper and slower.

A snake-like sensation slithered along the invisible cord, making my stomach turn as it approached.

The sigil on my arm heated and glowed, and it felt like a metal wall slammed down, stopping the sickening advance.

Discord gasped and blinked, the white film over his eyes dissolving as he locked his gaze on me. “Lucifer has summoned us.”

“Us?” My heart dropped. Attending an audience with the devil himself definitely wasn’t on my bingo card today…or any day for that matter. “He knows I’m here, and he wants to see me too?”

He nodded. “Indeed. And if you wish for your soul to survive, you will do exactly as I say.”