Page 36 of Hellish Witch (Playing with Demons #3)

Chapter 35

T he coven elder turned as white as bone.

An almost imperceptible shift rippled through the handful of mages clustered around their leader along the stone-marked trail.

Killian’s wings twitched beside me. Tension poured off him. If anyone so much as sparked, he’d be on them in a blink.

“You…look just like her,” the coven elder murmured.

I swallowed thickly. I’d heard that my whole childhood. My aunts had beaten me mercilessly for it, trying to punish me for stealing their beloved sister’s face as well as her life.

“So I’ve heard.” My voice came out as a dark rasp. I eyed him with the sinking sense of impending doom.

I just knew what was happening here.

“How…” He swallowed hard, voice trembling. “How old are you, dear?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Yesterday, in fact,” Killian hissed, tail rising aggressively over his shoulder, stinger peeking from the arrowed tip to glint in the dulling afternoon light.

A pained expression wrinkled the old mage’s features. Everyone gaped back and forth between us.

Except Killian, who growled, shaking with rage beside me. He took a single step forward, and I grabbed his forearm, digging my claws in to hold him back. The contact helped me find strength.

I forced the next words out. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”

“I…” He seemed to visibly gather himself, drawing up straight. “I think so—”

Killian’s vicious snarl cut him off. “I should cut you down where you stand. How could you abandon her? Your child?!” His tail lashed behind him, punctuating with words like the crack of a whip.

I’d wondered that my whole life, and I’d never been more grateful to have Killian at my side. He knew exactly what I’d gone through.

If I’d had a father to raise me after my mother died, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I’d have been protected and loved. Not abused and threatened. Not staring down the barrel of a life in the pleasure houses of a succubus kingdom.

“I had no idea.” He stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Eve, daughter .” He whispered the word almost reverently, a look of wonder replacing the shell-shocked expression. “Please believe me. Lilabell never mentioned she was pregnant. One day, she just disappeared and never answered my summons again.”

“Save your excuses,” Killian hissed.

A burly male beside the coven elder cleared his throat, catching the coven elder’s attention and throwing a pointed look towards Killian.

The older mage seemed to shake himself, taking in the blood smears and bullet wounds across the incubus. “Goddesses, where are my manners? Are either of you in need of healing?”

His eyes glowed, shining like rubies, raking over me desperately as if searching for injuries. Their bright hue put Alvie’s sunny glow to shame, making his power seem dim in comparison.

I shook my horns, unable to voice that I had such magic to heal myself still. “Killian does.”

“I’m fine.” The demon stared the coven elder down until his glow withered away.

Of course the stubborn enforcer would refuse. Apparently, he rejected all healers, not just me.

“If you’re certain.” The coven elder inclined his head. Some of the steel that must have earned him his position seeped in, and he met Killian’s intense stare for a long moment before returning his attention to me. “Please, come with us. It’s a bit hectic with tonight’s initiation, but let’s find somewhere to sit down and talk. Unless demonic fashion has become a lot more macabre lately, you must be tired from whatever trials you’ve faced getting here.”

He wasn’t wrong. It felt like a lifetime had passed in a single day.

Kilian leaned down, whispering in my ear. “Even though this coven is mostly friendly towards demons, we can’t trust them. Especially not him.”

Curiosity nipped at my thoughts as I eyed the back of the coven elder’s head, stalking behind him. How many times had Killian been here if he knew things about the coven’s leader? Had they met before? Who cast his glamours when he came here?

He caught my hand in his, enclosing it in his warm strength. Storm-blue eyes, slashed through with slit pupils, bored into me as he brushed a loose curl back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “If you want to leave, just say the word and we’re gone. We don’t need these people, sweetness. You never have. We’ll figure something else out. Together.”

His blood-smeared wings unfurled, readying to take off on my command.

My heart swelled. Killian meant every word. Even if it put him in danger, he’d take me away from here if I asked him to.

“I can’t be the reason you get hurt again, Kill. Not you, or Rex, or Zoella, or anyone. I have to keep our home safe. I have to fix my magic and be a healer. Be useful,” I murmured, rushing the words out through the tightness in my throat.

“Eve…” He trailed off, head bending towards mine in our own private bubble of intensity. “You’re fucking perfect. No matter what your magic does or doesn’t do for people. Your value isn’t tied to what you let others take from you.”

“Killian,” I pleaded, licking my suddenly dry lips. “You don’t understand. I’m doing this for you. For our family. Our home. I’m doing it out of necessity.”

“You’re doing it out of fear.” Silver sharpened his gaze. “Fear that you’re not good enough. That you’re not worthy. But you are, Eve. No matter what magic you have or how big your horns are. No matter how many poisons you make for us. No matter how wild your curls are first thing in the morning, or how grumpy you are without coffee sweet enough to rot your fangs.”

A muscle feathered along his jaw. The tattooed wing along his throat vibrated with the rapid beat of his pulse, but he held my gaze, unwavering. My own heart pattered with the same flighty cadence.

“You may not see your value, sweetness, but I’ve not been able to stop seeing it since you first tried to poison me with those damn flowers on that damn cake, and I’d eat every toxic crumb, just to be near you for a second longer.”

My lips parted at his words. “Killian…”

Why was everything just so fires-damned complicated?

I wanted Killian. Every fibre of my broken being called out for him. My tattered soul screamed for it.

Yet how could I return home with him, knowing I was still a danger to everyone? How could I look Killian in the eye, knowing the next time he needed me, I could end up killing him instead of healing him?

I hadn’t realised we had an audience until Alvie cleared his throat a few feet behind us. My father and his followers had stopped further ahead, all staring at us. We’d kept our conversation hushed enough to avoid human ears, but my cheeks still warmed.

“Kill…please,” I murmured, squeezing his warm forearm. “I need to do this.”

He nodded, eyes dropping to where my pale hand covered his rich purple skin, inked with silvery chains. “I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go, sweetness.”

I flashed him a tight smile and started after the group of mages, lingering a few steps along the trail.

Alvie had watched our exchange with a soft smile in place, but something churned in his sunshine eyes as he fell in step beside me. “It seems the sister goddesses have blessed our meeting as more than chance.”

“Perhaps.” I shrugged, and the three of us trailed after the coven elder and his cronies at a small distance.

My mind reeled as we continued in silence. The coven elder snuck glances at me over his narrow shoulders, brows raised like he was still shocked.

That made two of us.

Within minutes, the first buildings appeared through the trees, dotted along the path lined with mismatched paving stones. A luxurious village appeared in a large clearing, branching off the widening path that arrowed through the middle. Crescent rows of two-storey cabins sprang up from the forest, the neat squares blending in with the grey-hued trees surrounding the vast open area. In a way, it reminded me of a more uniform, lavish version of the Hybrid Kingdom.

Apart from the rogue hunters, their forest was pretty fangless though.

Mages of all ages and races milled around, giving our party curious gazes and friendly waves as we passed. Just normal people. Who could also do magic.

They seemed nowhere near as bloodthirsty or prejudiced as I’d have expected.

Children giggled, running around with colourful ribbons streaming behind them while harried parents tried to herd them. A cluster of young women sat outside a sprawling cabin we passed, tying bundles of sage leaves together and stacking them on a pile.

The deeper into coven territory we walked, the more buzz filled the air. Chatter, laughter, excited crowds, busy people. Flame-roasted meat, sage leaves, and wood smoke flavoured the cool air.

The coven elder passed the central row of buildings and stopped inside the last ring with his followers.

I avoided his gaze, taking my time assessing what looked like the heart of the coven.

An open-sided shelter spanned the middle, like an enormous gazebo with a rustic canvas top. In its centre, a pile of logs burned low within a raised brazier, its base ringed by ornate white stones and rows of cushioned wicker chairs, filling with people. I followed the path of the smoke, up through a tented gap in the roof and into the dusky sky above.

Two burly men hauled a platter of seasoned meats past our awkward group. They carried it towards an outdoor kitchen, sheltered within the innermost ring of buildings, and the pair loaded an enormous shiny smoker with slabs of herb-crusted joints.

They even had a pizza oven going.

Alvie and Killian eyed each other, another stare-off going down right beside me as we joined the leader.

The coven elder spoke quietly to the mages who’d accompanied him, and they each hurried off in different directions away from the main gazebo, leaving just the four of us in a bubble of hushed tension amid the hub of activity bustling around us.

I drew a full breath, scrounging up the courage to address the mage who’d apparently spaffed me out of his balls. “So… You’re my father, huh? What’s your name?”

I hated that a part of me was curious.

He winced, as if the awkwardness of the situation was hitting him too. “Orion Warren.”

Warren.

Technically, if I’d been raised in the human realm, that would be my last name. Demons rarely bothered with such things though. I was lucky I’d been given one.

Eve Warren.

It was an odd thing to consider.

I’d dreamt of finding my father for years growing up. Until I’d fled and Rex had taken me in. That was when I’d learned that family was your choice, and clearly, my birth father had never chosen me.

“Cool.” I shrugged. “So what can you tell me about fixing magic?”