Page 21

Chapter 21

Shadow

brIAR

T he woman is beautiful. Ethereal, even.

Her blond hair falls down her back in waves, nearly hitting the back of her knees. She’s got wide blue eyes and a pointed nose. Her shapely body is wrapped in rich green velvet that cascades down to the floor. Gold threads weave through it.

She looks like a dream.

“Mother,” Gerrit says through gritted teeth.

“My baby,” she coos, sweeping across the floor and gathering him in her arms. She’s barely shorter than him, and despite the conflicting feelings I know he holds for her, he melts in her arms. “It’s been entirely too long.”

“Are we just going to ignore that you swept in here and claimed this curse?” Hans spits out. “That you admit to cursing my father?”

“Oh Hans,” she says in a chiding tone. “You know I love your father. I would never do such a thing.”

The Duke coughs loudly into a kerchief as he attempts to sit up straighter, his posture regal despite everything. “But my love, if killing you would weaken the curse…” His eyes fixate on the writing mass of magic in front of me. “Then it is your curse.”

She releases Gerrit and perches on the side of the bed. “Yes, my dearest, I purchased the curse. But I did not create it, and I did not intend to curse you. It was an unfortunate accident. I have been searching for a cure since it happened.”

His eyes brighten at this, but mine narrow.

I have not met many people in my long life, but my instincts are screaming.

I do not trust her.

I wouldn’t drink her blood if I were starving.

“And have you found one?” he asks, clutching her pale hands in his rich brown ones. “Did you bring me a cure?”

“As a matter of fact, I did!” She kisses his fingers and stands up. “While our sons were off chasing a myth, I found someone with enough magic to excise the curse without harming either of us.”

“Impossible!” I snap. “Whoever promised you that is a liar. It has been left to fester for too long. They are intrinsically linked.”

She makes a dismissive noise and turns her back to me. Hans touches my shoulder, and Flint bumps up against my knee. My chest warms at their support.

Gerrit takes a step closer to his mother. “Mother, Briar is possibly the most magical being on this plane. I believe her when she says that the risk is too high without weakening the curse.”

His stepmother spins around, hands on her chest. Her eyes are lined with silvery tears. “You would let her kill me?” she whines. “Your mother? You’d choose that creature over your mother?”

Silently, I beg that he not take the bait. That he does not grow agitated. She is trying to sew discord between us. I do not believe her sweet act one bit, but the Duke seems to buy it readily. He has not taken his eyes off his wife.

“She’s not a creature,” Gerrit says, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

But I am, aren’t I?

A succubus. A demon.

“She is ours,” Hans says, sliding his hand down my arm and clasping mine. “Just like we are hers.”

“Miss Briar!” Flint’s voice is frantic in my head. Hans must hear it, too, because he freezes at the sound. “Run, Briar. Run.” The fear in Flint’s voice is unlike anything I’ve ever heard, and as soon as I register the words, I take several steps backward toward the window.

I don’t know why he wants me to run, but he wouldn’t steer me wrong.

“I…” I whisper, looking at Gerrit. He couldn’t hear Flint. “I have to go.”

Scrambling towards the window, to the disparaging words about my worth from Gerrit’s mother, my mind is reeling.

What could be so dire that Flint would encourage me to run?

The wolf is behind me, nose under my ass, trying to push me out of the window when the door to the bedroom explodes open.

Wood shards go flying, and smoke fills the room, making me cough. A firm hand grabs the back of my dress, hurling me back into the room and onto the floor. My teeth crash together with the impact, and my body aches.

And standing above me is the man of my nightmares.

My Banisher.

He’s dressed as he always is, in head-to-toe black with his face obscured. His hands, pale peach with copious amounts of scarring, are clasped in front of his waist. I don’t have to see his eyes to know the venom he glares at me with.

I can’t look away from him, but I hear shouts from Hans and Gerrit and barks from Flint, but they sound as if they’re underwater.

“Oh, my little demon, you have made a mistake leaving your home,” he purrs. “Did you not learn your lesson on taking on a Complement last time?”

“Last time?”

He laughs loudly, but it is hollow and chilling. “Right, you don’t remember. No matter. It’s time to go home, demon.”

I scramble backward, pressing myself against the wall under the window. “I’m never going back there. I served my time for whatever crime you think I committed. I deserve to live!”

Looking over the Banisher’s shoulder, I see Hans and Gerrit banging on an invisible bubble surrounding us. They’re still yelling, and Flint is snarling. His snout is pointed at Gerrit’s mother, keeping her trapped on the bed.

He follows my line of sight. “Oh yes, your two Complements. Only you could manage to find not one but two willing partners while trapped in the middle of the woods. I’m almost impressed. And I am so benevolent that I will let them live with their memories altered.” He grabs my chin, wrenching my gaze to him. “Aren’t I generous?”

“You won’t touch them!” I shriek, lunging for his knees.

It was an emotional mistake to put myself so near his boots, one that becomes abundantly clear when they connect with my sternum and I go flying backward.

My magic roils inside me, wanting to be let out. But it feels like my flame has been smothered. I cannot command it to come to the surface to save me.

The Banisher steps outside of the bubble and cocks his shrouded head to the side as he regards me. “Please, demon. You may be powerful, but you are untrained. You cannot best me.”

I throw myself against the bubble, screaming and pounding on it. I do everything possible to command my magic to get me out of here, but it’s as if I haven’t fed in years.

He is draining me, somehow.

I can feel my body weakening, my magic abandoning me.

I watch in horror as the Banisher uses purple magic to restrain my men and Flint in the air. They’re thrashing and shouting, fighting against his restraints but failing to get anywhere. I can barely hear their voices and Flint’s mournful howls.

The Banisher then whips some magic towards them both, wrapping their heads with a sparking cage of stars and silencing them. He empties the contents of a waist pouch on the floor and arranges them in an artful symbol.

The Duke and his wife are still, their eyes closed as they recline against the headboard of the large bed.

Did he put them to sleep?

I don’t have time to contemplate it because the Banisher stomps on the symbol, and my loves - Gods, I never told them I loved them - fall to the ground in crumpled heaps. The Banisher turns his attention to the writhing magic mass of red, green, and purple, and with a wave of his hand, the red extracts itself from the purple and green.

It must be easy to undo your own curse. Somehow, she must have purchased this curse from my Banisher.

Tears fall from my eyes as I look at my men and Flint in sleeping piles on the floor.

If I’m lucky, the worst thing that will happen to them when they wake up is they won’t remember me.

All the fight drains out of my body.

I melt into a puddle of tears and curl into a ball on the floor. The bubble around me pops with a soft sound, and my Banisher scoops me up in his arms.

“Shush now, little demon, let’s get you home.”