Page 39

38

Trusting

Gwen

G wen was barely able to get Ambrosius to her bed.

Strength wasn’t Gwen’s strong suit, but in her desperation—and with the demon’s help—she had somehow managed.

All the while, panic built in her throat.

The ink that often swayed on Ambrosius’ skin was violently convulsing, like electricity ran through it.

He was sweating, burning up under Gwen’s fingers as she loosened the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Ambrosius, what’s happening? What’s going on?” Gwen asked.

As more of his skin was revealed, Gwen could see eyes and mouths within the clusters of ink.

A horrific sight made more gruesome by the obvious expressions of pain they displayed.

Silent screams that Gwen felt more than heard.

The demon groaned between clenched teeth, hands twisting into fists .

“Something’s wrong,” he managed.

“It feels like I’m being … pulled from my vessel.”

“Your vessel?” Gwen pulled his dress shirt open.

“A demon at its core is still a spirit. This body—” Ambrosius’ eyes shut tightly as a slight tremor ran through his form.

“This body isn’t my real form, but something I made in my image. It’s meant to host my spirit, as I cannot exist in the world without one. But it’s not without its imperfections. Sometimes, my real form pushes through—fuck, it’s hot .”

The eyes, all the demonic parts of him, Gwen realized.

Quickly, Gwen helped him shed his jacket and dress shirt.

“And being separated from your body—” She pulled at the button of his dress pants.

“—this hurts you?”

“It hurts when something else is pulling on my spirit,” Ambrosius managed.

“But I don’t know what. I felt something like this when you died. I thought it was our connection on the verge of breaking, but this is something different. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“But you have felt it before? You know what this is?”

If Ambrosius knew, he needed to tell Gwen immediately .

The sooner Gwen knew, the sooner she could fix whatever this was.

Yet, she could tell by his gritted teeth that he was reluctant to do so.

The same way he avoided questions she had asked in the past. Ambrosius was suffering, and a feeling of helplessness rapidly ate away at her nerves.

The pain in her hands burned with every anxious ‘what if’ that tried to play through Gwen’s mind.

“Something or someone is trying to summon me. ”

“Summon—what do you mean summon you?” Gwen licked her lips.

“Do you mean like fucking high school kids trying to summon Bloody Mary?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“I’m already stretched thin with the Antiquarium. It shouldn’t be possible, as every human who comes into contact with me through the shop dies within a week of meeting me. And I’ve been very careful about keeping myself hidden. Whatever is happening, it’s tearing me apart. We have to act fast.”

“Okay. Okay, just tell me what to do,” Gwen said.

“Take the book in the bathroom. I’ve implanted it with tools that will help keep you alive. It won’t protect you from everything, but it will ensure your survival. It’s intuitive. You won’t have to read it, just take the book into yourself. It will do the rest—fuck! Fuck, shit, fuck! ” Ambrosius swore, his hand reaching for his hip.

Immediately, Gwen went for the zipper of his pants, but Ambrosius halted her hand.

“Leave it. The pressure helps,” he said weakly.

“It’s not the source, just a side effect. I’ve had this pain longer than what’s happening to me.”

“Shit, okay,” Gwen pulled away, shaking her hands.

“What do I do after I get the book? How do I use it to help you?”

“You don’t.”

The words echoed in her ears.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t help me, Gwen. Whatever is trying to force me into existence, I’ll face on my own—”

Before Ambrosius could finish, Gwen had already slapped him across the face .

“Fuck you ,” Gwen snapped.

“My—”

“No, fuck you, Ambrosius!” Gwen cried.

“I’m your warlock, aren’t I? I’m supposed to help you! What the fuck was the point of making me your warlock if you won’t let me help you?!”

The rage inside Gwen was growing by the minute.

All because this bull-headed demon couldn’t put aside his need for control.

Because Ambrosius couldn’t risk being vulnerable, because it was too human to ask her for help, even on death’s door.

“You’re not ready.”

“Then make me ready!”

“I’m not sending you to your death! Gwen, you couldn’t fight off a single undead—”

“Do not use my death as an excuse to keep me from fighting for you!” Gwen exclaimed as black tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Ambrosius, why the fuck do you think I’ve put up with all of this supernatural bullshit since we met? It’s because of you! Because for whatever fucked up reason, you’re it. You’re everything. And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it, I fell in love with you . Horror and all. So, let me fucking help you. ”

The partial release of frustration left Gwen shaky more than relieved.

Ambrosius was still a demon, and he could disregard her love as just another human condition that ruined her.

In fact, Gwen was more than prepared for it, for his anger and cruelty.

Ambrosius tilted his head back against the pillow, dark eyes heavy with something Gwen couldn’t read.

The ink on his body was still moving, skittering like the spiders in her bathroom .

“You’ve lost your senses if you think you love me,” Ambrosius chuckled tiredly.

“I never said I was mentally well,” Gwen retorted.

“Ro … please . Let me do this for you.”

The demon sighed, “Get the book.”

Still stubborn, but Gwen would take it.

She dashed to the bathroom, flicking a switch, and brightening the room with harsh light upon entering.

The spiders scattered, drawing to the dark corners of the bathroom.

The book hung against the wall, exactly as she had left it.

Gwen grabbed it, pulling it free from the thick webbing.

The book was heavy, and as Gwen pulled it free from its binding, she could see it was leather bound.

Black, with paper similar to when the book had just been a scroll.

On the cover was the same symbol Gwen had seen on Ambrosius’ cards.

Gwen was tracing the lines when her foot almost slid out from under her.

Gwen caught herself against the wall, dropping her gaze to the ground.

The thing that she had caught her foot on had slid across the floor.

Sierra’s bracelet. Gwen had forgotten all about it with the attack, her sudden death, and reconciliation with Ambrosius.

The encounter that had happened earlier that day had just slipped her mind.

Wait…

Kneeling, Gwen picked up the bracelet.

She wasn’t sure what drew her eye, but Gwen found herself fiddling with the beads.

They were black with white letters that spelled out a single word.

Sacrifice.

It was an odd message, and to Gwen’s knowledge, Sierra wasn’t religious by any means.

Given the younger woman’s tendency to chat, Gwen was certain she would have heard about a church camp or rock band by now.

There was a chance that it was something gifted to her, but if so, why wasn’t there a cross charm to go with it—

I really enjoy UFO’s, occult and…

Gwen frowned, turning one of the black beads over.

I really am sorry, Gwen.

I hope you’ll forgive me one day.

Her eyes widened.

“ Shit, Ambrosius!” Gwen shouted, springing to her heels.

She nearly tripped again, narrowly hopping over a tiny spider making its way back into the bathroom.

Ambrosius had been resting his eyes, but the moment Gwen fell to his side, his gaze was on her.

“What—”

Gwen dropped the book and tossed the bracelet at the demon, which he caught with a single claw.

Despite his weakened state, he was still alert.

It would have been comforting if Gwen’s mind wasn’t racing at a dangerous speed.

“Before my neighbor attacked me, my coworker stopped by. She wanted to apologize for spreading rumors about me at work. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was upset about you breaking up with me—”

“I never—”

“—but I didn’t feel anything from her! She was blank, like a wall! And I noticed she left that in my apartment! The reason that dead asshole got into my apartment is because I heard a knock on my door! I thought she was coming back for this bracelet, but what if that’s not what happened at all?!” Gwen exclaimed in a rush.

“Gwen, what are you— ”

Before Ambrosius could say another word, Gwen reached for the bead that had clicked everything together.

Carved into the back of it was a familiar symbol.

One that mirrored the intricate design on the demon’s precious cards.

Ambrosius’ eyes widened, black bleeding to cyan.

“Who had this?” Ambrosius growled.

“My coworker,” Gwen explained.

“Look, I don’t believe in coincidences—not after meeting you. This has to mean something, right?”

“You said the body—your neighbor— attacked you after she left?”

“Yes.”

“We need to know everything. Starting with your neighbor,” Ambrosius said.

“Who he is, how he came back from the dead.”

“Okay, okay,” Gwen pushed back onto her heels, reaching into the hidden pocket for her cell phone.

“Wait, fuck, shit! I don’t know his name! Goddamn it, I never even thought to ask!”

“Give me a moment,” Ambrosius said, closing his eyes.

The snake heads at his neck began to slither, coiling up his skin.

It traveled along his jaw and reared back, poised to strike his eye.

“James Howard,” he said.

Gwen dropped the name into a search engine and cursed when she got multiple hits.

She searched again, this time using Everett, Washington to refine her results.

Still too many. Gwen refused to give up, pulling up social media.

If there was one place that somehow connected people by location, it would be—

“Found him! ”

James Howard, the man she had killed and who killed her in return, was a thirty-seven-year-old man who worked at an industrial equipment supplier.

Gwen had no idea what the fuck that meant, but it didn’t matter.

What she needed was details about who he was in connection to Sierra.

His family tree boasted no familial connections, and James had no dating history.

“This isn’t going to cut it. I think I need to go deeper—fuck it, I need to get inside his apartment,” Gwen dropped her phone.

“You—”

“—are doing it with or without your approval,” Gwen said.

“And fucking relax. I’m not going without preparing first.”

“You stubborn, wretched —”

“What do I do with this?” she asked, lifting the book from the bed.

“You said I take this into myself, right? Intuition or something? Do I have to eat this thing?”

“For fuck’s sake, Gwen, I swear when I come out of this, I’m going to—”

“Punish me later, Daddy, ” Gwen scolded, pulling the book close to her chest. “I’m trying to read— ow, goddamn it! ”

For all of Gwen’s bravado, she was completely unprepared for the weight against her frame.

It felt like the book was being pressed into her chest, like someone was trying to crush her lungs with it.

Her fingers curled around the corners of the book, felt the leather sink deeper through the fabric of her dress.

Searing pain tore through her chest, like a thousand paper cuts.

Gwen gasped as the book continued to sink into skin, into muscle, into bone until the book disappeared completely.

It left Gwen panting, a small sheen of sweat on her skin as she shakily tried to maintain her balance.

“What I was trying to tell you was that it was going to hurt, ” Ambrosius said smartly.

“Thanks,” Gwen huffed, then paused, eyes darting back and forth.

“Fuck, I don’t feel anything!”

There were no weird sensations, no swelling of power that gave Gwen any confidence that something was different.

She felt just as normal as she had after binding her soul to Ambrosius.

Had she done something wrong?

“Why do you insist that you’ll feel something every time?” Ambrosius asked.

“You didn’t feel anything when your hair changed, did you?”

“Because movies and shit told me so, okay?!” Gwen barked.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know this worked?!”

“You’ll just know!” Ambrosius snapped.

“Like you knew to feed when the time was right. You told me to trust you, you told me to make you ready. Consider this part of that and listen to me for once! My power isn’t something so easily defined, Gwen. It’s not logical, it never has been. It’s fear and chaos, it’s not meant to make sense. Stop trying to rationalize it and trust your intuition. Trust yourself.”

Gwen bit her lip, the natural urge to resist lingered, but she pushed through it.

Eventually, she relaxed her jaw and her rigid stance grew lax.

“Okay,” she sighed, then more assuredly. “Okay.”

“Okay.”