Page 15 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Amelia

Amelia paced the dimly lit room, consumed with thoughts of her encounter with the eerie witcher.

If his magic maintained the invisible veil over the Hospital, it meant Mikhail was also paying him – in hearts, more than likely.

But how had Mikhail delivered the blood tithe?

Did the witcher open dimensional portals or leave through physical ones?

He had to have a means of leaving Antambazi.

She remembered his warning: ‘If you value life as you know it, forget everything I’ve told you. Never envision the necklace, nor any of the Seven Sacreds.’

The witcher believed Amelia was collecting the artefacts for the Queen.

‘You’ll see necklaces like it on every second witch dabbling in forbidden magic,’ he’d said.

Her mind conjured an image of a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and piercing eyes, adorned with a necklace.

Moments later, the vision shifted – her imagination cloaked the woman in black, her head and most of her face hidden beneath a burqa.

Heavy fabrics obscured not only her beauty but the necklace as well.

Is this how the true bearer of the necklace will look?

Amelia wondered. She visualised her gaze piercing through the woman’s clothes, revealing the hidden necklace, exactly as the witcher had described: ‘A two-headed serpent… When your eyes see the true necklace, the heads come alive, locked in a battle of light and dark, good and evil.’

Amelia imagined the heads entwining as if alive. What would it feel like to wear such a powerful artefact so close to the heart? Would it fill me with courage or paralyse me with the fear of losing it?

In her vision, she became the one wearing the necklace, its weight resting against her chest. ‘You’ll feel love and strength – immense strength.

Picture holding the necklace and grasping the threads of life, of birth itself.

Imagine guiding a soul into a body, pushing it towards physical birth, pulling it back… ’

A surge of energy flowed through her, not jarring but revitalising, both creative and destructive. Her fingers reached for her bare neck, as if the necklace might be there.

Her vision shifted. Where her bed had been, a green expanse appeared. On a small hill stood an old house with a modest, well-kept yard. Amelia found herself walking along a rural path. Before her, a sign marked the end of the village.

When she strained to read it, a force gripped her neck, diverting her gaze from the sign. Her resolve stiffened. Something primal stirred within her – an aggressive longing for possession, angered that someone else had what she now considered hers.

With renewed determination, Amelia delved into the consciousness of the woman wearing the necklace. She tore through memories and thoughts with ferocity, refusing to retreat without her prize. She didn’t persuade – she stole.

The other person resisted, struggling to banish Amelia from her consciousness, not yet grasping that the fight was over. There was no way out.

Amelia withdrew only when she was truly satisfied.

The shadowy depths of her room in Antambazi welcomed her once more.

Amidst the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind, one became crystal clear – a sharp desire, a painful longing that thrummed through her spine and settled in her chest. It was intoxicating, that dizzying pull of temptation, the pleasurable ache in her core when confronted with something she craved.

She’d felt this way once before, towards Mikhail.

Now, the same sensation overtook her, and she fell in love at first sight with the necklace.

***

Constantine

Constantine rested his hand against the wall by the window, indifferent to the creature behind him. The view of the sea stirred him as little as the reptilian woman’s attempts to strike up a conversation.

Her foot tapped against the wooden floor, as though her small show of frustration might influence him. What a na?ve thought! Didn’t she realise his sole aim was to test how much pain they were willing to inflict on him?

So far, they hadn’t impressed him. He was certain they were capable of worse. Such inaction on their part only confirmed their dire need for him. Maybe necromancers were even rarer than the rumours suggested?

What a pity they had nothing to tempt him with. His lost necromancer senses? Not long ago, he’d believed he was incomplete without them. Now, he was grateful for being insensible to the gaping voids in his life.

If he still had the power to steal souls, he might have ventured to the Beyond and grabbed one particular soul. He would have blocked her passage, consumed her. She could have made him whole again.

Yet, no matter his anger, he had no right to do that to her.

The memory of Diana’s death poked the ravenous, vengeful demon in Constantine’s chest. He faced her killer.

“Those gloves must be exceptionally important to your Queen if she’s keeping me alive.

Important to you , too. All that grovelling for my cooperation.

Or are you just looking for approval from Mummy dearest? ”

The violet sheen in her eyes flickered. “You mistake patience for weakness?”

He leaned against the window frame, arms crossed over his chest. “I think you’re weak.

Selling yourself out to please a lunatic.

What’s the grand plan, anyway? Let me guess: weaken the other immortal species, team up with humans, and – like countless other deluded egomaniacs throughout history – take over the world?

” Kathrine didn’t answer, but he hadn’t expected her to.

Constantine wasn’t seeking answers. “Really, who wants to rule the world? There are far more enjoyable ways to waste your time. If you weren’t such a coward, you could be living your life right now with a man worshipping you and making you feel as if you own not just the world, but the whole damn Hell. ”

Her chest rose and fell as if it took every ounce of her self-control not to snap his neck then and there.

Constantine pressed, “Tell me what you need those gloves for, and I’ll consider getting them for you.”

Kathrine’s expression remained unmoved. “Listen carefully, necromancer. The Queen has been exceedingly generous with you. She’s provided you with a room, clean clothes, and tolerated your absurd behaviour.

But don’t be mistaken. That won’t last. She’ll find another necromancer – one much more cooperative than you – and when she does, she’ll kill you. ”

Constantine chuckled. “I’m shaking with fear.”

For years, he’d been sinking deeper and deeper. He’d seen everything, had possessed everything – until he’d lost his senses. Then Diana had come along, and he’d discovered there were things he still longed to have; things in this world worth witnessing.

The woman standing before him had killed Diana in the Al-Hatib Tournament. Not through an honest duel, but through deception. How many times had he warned Diana that a tournament filled with monsters was not a suitable place for her? How often had he hoped she wouldn’t participate in it?

More than once, he’d blamed himself for letting her go to the tournament. If he’d tried harder. If he hadn’t encouraged her by sparring with her. If he hadn’t brought her to that stupid fighting match where she’d seen Swan, and gotten inspired by his skills. If…

The anger over her loss flared up once more, contorting his features. “A vampire participated in the Al-Hatib Tournament. Tell me how you killed her.”

Kathrine tilted her chin. “A vampire?”

“Her name was…” His fists clenched and relaxed. “Her name was Diana.”

Something flickered in her expression. “What was she to you?”

Despite the pain, his lips curled into a smile. “Nothing anymore, tigress.”

Had she ever truly been anything to him?

Kathrine didn’t reply. Did she even recall the name?

Then, without a word, she left the room. As if the question had never been asked. As if Diana had never existed.

For the first time, Constantine wondered whether her existence had ever mattered – or if he was merely using her death as an excuse to stop fighting.

***

Zacharia

Between hours spent repairing the roof, waiting for intel from that lokio , and darting to the car for a dose of blood from the cooler, Zacharia found himself in the bed of the ‘old’ witch. Not that he was complaining.

Under her veil, she possessed exceptional beauty, an impressive sexual appetite, and the skills of a seasoned professional. Who would have thought that treasures like her hid in the depths of the mountains?

Now, he thrust into her, quickening his pace. The position they were in was arousing as sin but quite demanding for his partner. So, when the witch reached her climax, and her moans of pleasure subsided, her abrupt withdrawal made him wonder if he’d caused her pain.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

She shook her head, concealing her nudity by wrapping herself in her black clothes. “Your lokio will soon be fed and provide the information you seek. After that, I want you gone.”

He gestured to his still-rigid arousal, standing between them like unfinished business. “And who’s going to finish feeding this lokio ?”

“I don’t feel well.” She stared out the window. The air in the room suddenly crackled with tension.

Zacharia could take a hint. The conversation – and everything else – was over. He wasn’t the type to get attached, but after spending the past few nights in this woman’s bed, he wasn’t ready to leave without addressing whatever had unsettled her – especially during sex.

Sliding into his jeans, he approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What’s wrong, mysterious witch?”

A corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Mysterious witch?”

“Seems fitting, since I don’t know your name.”

“I like it,” she replied.

He stepped in front of her. Her eyes shimmered with subtle beauty, but what captivated him most was the hint of feminine vulnerability beneath her steel resolve.

“I’m just a stranger who’ll be gone tomorrow, never to be seen again.

But while I’m here, I’m all yours – for roof repairs, sex, or a simple chat. ”

She stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she sighed.

“Years ago, I took something that wasn’t mine.

It became both my greatest power and my deepest secret.

It granted me access to a kind of magic few witches ever touch in their lifetimes.

” She placed a hand on her chest, just above her heart.

“But for the past few days, I can feel it leaving me. It burns with impatience because it knows someone else is looking for it. Someone it desires more than me.”

A thousand fucking devils.

Conversations with women often left him perplexed, but this one far exceeded the usual mysteries. This wasn’t just a female problem – it was a ‘witch problem.’ And he’d sworn not to get involved in those.

Yet the question tumbled out before he could stop it. “You struck a poor deal with the Higher Powers?”

“If only it were that simple.”

He paused, debating whether to push for more. “So, what is it, then?” he asked at last.

The witch pressed her lips into a thin line. “I can’t say more.”

“Does it have anything to do with the necklace you guard more fiercely than your life?” He nodded towards her chest, where two snakes were intertwined in a delicate design.

Her fingers traced the pendant. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

The slight stung, and a bitter taste filled his mouth at the offending statement. “Try me.” When she remained silent, Zacharia dropped it. “Well, you know what they say… If you love something, let it go. If it loves you back, it’ll return.”

The witch appeared more at ease. “I think I owe you for this enlightening chat.”

Zacharia spread his arms in mock surrender. “I was here. You weren’t very forthcoming with the words…”

He stopped mid-sentence as she knelt between his legs and finished what she’d started earlier.

Women. Who could ever figure them out?