by Ivy Asher
“You did it, Lennox. You won. He’s gone and he’s never coming back,” Rogan chants quietly to me to help drown out the noise of my brutal memories. I’m surprised to hear such confidence in his voice, like he always knew this would be the case, he never even doubted I might not pull it off.
I shake my head, reeling and in shock over what just happened. It all feels so surreal. I thought for sure it was over, and then it wasn’t.
Did I really just figure out how to climb out of that trap?
I know in the long run, this win doesn’t mean shit. Sorrel is just going to keep coming for us until we find some way to beat her, but we’ll at least live to see another day, have more time to plan for the next attack, and we’ll be together. I hug Rogan so hard he grunts from the impact. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head, and I vow that as soon as we get home, I’m reactivating this tether no matter what. Not being able to reach him was the worst fucking feeling, and I will never let it happen again.
The screams stop, but I can hear the flames still crackling as they finish the rest of Botis off. Out of nowhere, a flash of familiar icy pain moves through me. My gasp is hidden in Rogan’s chest, and as he feels my muscles tighten and strain from the sudden assault, he holds me protectively closer.
“What’s wrong, Lennox? What just happened?” he asks distraughtly, and I can feel him scanning the room for the source of this attack. I shake my head against his chest, but it’s all I can do until the icy clutches of agony start to abate.
Deep breaths, Lennox, this is not your first rodeo, it’ll be over soon. Just breathe.
Dyad stands behind the lectern, his crown of horns making him appear regal and superior. I want to punch him for it. His black eyes take in everyone in the room, and he lifts his chin haughtily. “I officially call the trial of Count Botis the Murk to an end,” he announces, and I look up through the pain to see the High Council members all together again and glaring up at the demons. “I warn the other parties present, specifically the three High Council members, that they are facing future charges for their role in today’s events. I also warn that Botis’s next in line will inherit all open contracts, and that their legal bargains with him are still active contracts.”
I watch the three High Council members’ reactions to Dyad’s declaration. I expect to find fear or apprehension or at the least a slight bit of concern, but Sorrel once again looks smug, like she knows something the rest of us don’t, and it makes my stomach churn with vicious anxiety.
The pain in my body starts to recede, and I relax in Rogan’s arms. He breathes out a sigh of relief and drops his lips to my ear so no one else can hear.
“What just happened, are you okay?”
I nod against his chest and whisper back, “It was a transference of power,” I explain, confusion percolating through me, because I thought Elon and I were the only Osteomancers left, and Elon can’t transfer power to me because he can’t die.
And then it dawns on me.
I look down at my feet, parts of them still stinging from the power I just absorbed. Shock makes me freeze, and my eyes widen as a new shot of adrenaline courses through me. I stare dumbfoundedly at the demon marks now decorating my skin. I trace the lacey circles with my eyes, identifying a mark with the letter A in it, one with a K, and the last one contains a B. Unlike my vow mark with Rogan, the demon marks are black, and I know without a shadow of doubt what just happened.
Holy moon shits.
That wasn’t a transference of magic from an Osteomancer, that was a transference from the fucking demon, Botis.
Which means…
My head snaps up just as Dyad stops talking and Gremory prepares to pound his gavel again and end this trial once and for all.
I step forward, but Rogan keeps an arm draped over my shoulder protectively. “Wait,” I cry out before the gavel can meet the dark wood of the lectern.
Gremory groans, looking thoroughly pissed. And the High Priestess’s shrewd eyes narrow at me.
“What the fuck is it now?” Gremory snaps, but I’m too fucking shocked and excited by what I just discovered to let it get to me.
“You said that the next in line inherited their contracts, is that correct?” I ask, gesturing to the High Council members, who have already turned to leave.
“Yes, now fuck off already,” he growls, raising the gavel again.
“Sorry, just a couple more questions,” I rush to add, and he shoots me a glare that threatens to burn me alive if I don’t shut the fuck up.
I’m not cowed.
“Each of the High Council members lied in their contracts with Botis and then also violated the Accords; isn’t that going to be dealt with?” I demand, and Rogan gives me a warning squeeze around my shoulders as Dyad also shoots me a glare.
“Yes, we’ve already established that the consequences will be determined by Botis’s next in line. The heir can decide if they want to call in the contracts early or simply assign a penalty,” Dyad announces, annoyed.
“Either way, that has nothing to do with you, Osteomancer,” the High Priestess snaps. “Are we done here?” she demands, already skirting Botis’s bones to leave. “And before you get too excited, I’ve already ensured that Botis was the last of his line,” Sorrel tells me, a vicious smirk painted on her face. I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she already starts to plot and plan her next move.
My smile grows wider, and victory sings in my veins as I look up at the three High Demons. “Then, as Botis’s next in line and the new owner of the High Council members’ contracts, I’d like to call in my contracts early,” I inform them evenly, my head high and my heart screaming with excitement.
That’s checkmate, you evil cunt.
23
Outrage and shock bombard me from all angles. And maybe it’s all this new demon magic that I just inherited, but I’m feeling smug as fuck.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dyad snarls.
Sorrel looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “That’s not possible,” she declares dismissively.
Rogan just looks at me, stunned, his gaze dropping to my feet as he makes the same connection I just did.
The High Priestess sneers at me as though she’s calling what she thinks is my bluff. I don’t say anything, perfectly happy to let her think she’s about to walk out of here. The Crone knows, Sorrel Adair has fucked with me enough times for me to appreciate the importance of dangling the carrot and then snatching it away at the last possible moment.
Unfortunately for them, the carrot I’m dangling is their souls, and there’s absolutely zero chance that they’ll be leaving anywhere with those anymore. The High Priestess doesn’t get that yet, but she will. Soon.
She turns on her heel and motions for the other two to follow her as she tries to leave. I turn calmly to Dyad, my eyes icy and commanding.
“I am Botis’s next in line. His transference of power occurred at the precise moment he died. If you don’t believe me, check, I don’t care,” I tell him evenly. “But I suggest you stop them from leaving,” I add, gesturing to the High Council members, “or I’ll personally hold you responsible for allowing three souls that I own to escape,” I threaten, eyeing the High Demons, officially done with all the bullshit.
They wanted to play when I was just a lowly Osteomancer, let’s see how well they do with a level playing field.
Dyad debates for all of two seconds. Oddly, I feel the moment Sorrel and the others call on whatever magic brought them here. It’s not a ley line, but close. I didn’t feel it before, but I certainly do now. Interesting.
“Stop!” Dyad orders, and the High Priestess extends a murderous look at him for the command.
“You can’t be serious. What? Do High Demons now entertain every impossible and ridiculous claim that crosses their paths these days? Maybe you have time to waste, but I certainly don’t,” she snaps at him, and I can’t help but smile when a strand of white hair falls in her face.
Awww, is the High Priestess feeling a little flustered?
Rogan watches everything with a stoic, guarded expression, and I wish more than anything I could feel what he’s feeling right now.
“If you make one more move to leave after you’ve been ordered to stay, I will consider it an act of war. Think very carefully, High Priestess, about whether you have time to deal with that,” Dyad snarks, and if I didn’t hate his guts, I’d be offering him an oh snap.
Sorrel practically snarls and pushes the errant strand of hair out of her face with such force I’m surprised she doesn’t just rip the traitorous thing from her scalp altogether. I look over at Rogan’s dad, whose name I can never remember, and wonder if the man ever talks or reacts to anything. I suspect his wife might have had him lobotomized at some point, but who the fuck knows. Bordow, however, looks like he has a better understanding of the severity of the situation. His olive skin is waxy, and his eyes dart around the room like he’s waiting for the shadows to come and eat him.
“You have exactly five minutes to make it very clear why you’re detaining us, or I will consider this an act of war,” the High Priestess barks as she marches back over to stand in front of Botis’s bones.
Dyad looks over to Gremory and then to Cozen and nods. Gremory disappears without a word, and Sorrel grumbles something under her breath. I’ve never seen her so out of sorts, and I look over to Rogan to see what he thinks about it. He slips me a sly wink and then moves closer to me so that his arm is brushing mine, and I bite back the smile that wants to sneak across my face.
I pull in a deep breath and try to put my game face on as Cozen’s haunting white eyes fix on me and she looks me over. Her gaze stops on my feet, and instead of seeing shock in her gaze, I think I see...satisfaction.
“What exactly makes you think you are Botis’s heir?” she asks me, her eyes alight with the answer already.
“Something happened when Botis kidnapped and tried to kill me. I don’t know what exactly it was, but it bonded his magic with mine.” The orb in front of Cozen blinks white, and I’m a little surprised, although maybe I shouldn’t be.
I technically have an idea of how Botis accidentally bonded his magic to mine, but I’m not lying when I say I don’t know exactly how it happened. Either way, the details of that will get locked in the vault next to my hey, guess what, I can’t die secret.
“When he was executed just now, I felt the transference. And if that’s not enough...look at the marks,” I tell everyone, holding one foot out and then the other for everyone to see.
Internally I thank my Grammy for giving my Aunt Hillen a heads-up to “look at the marks.”
Sorrel and Bordow both look over, which is exactly when the High Priestess once again thinks she’s off the hook. I shrug at her.
“If you don’t believe me, then look at your marks,” I tell her simply, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.
The High Priestess looks down at her high heel booted feet, and for a second, I think she’s actually going to take her bootie off. Instead, she glares at the Contegomancer until Bordow begins to unlace his shoe.
Rogan laces his fingers in mine and squeezes once as we both watch the Contegomancer slip off his shoe and pull off his sock. He stares at the mark on the top of his foot, and I see his shoulders slump in defeat.
“What?” Sorrel stammers, staring at the new pattern of Bordow’s mark as though it’s a cobra ready to strike at any moment. “How?” she demands on a haunted whisper, her green eyes snapping up to mine. Her gaze quickly morphs from denial to bewilderment to outrage.
The High Priestess calls power to her so fast I feel it create a vacuum of magic all around her, her eyes alight with the fire she’s calling on, and Rogan and I both ready ourselves for an attack. She opens her mouth to screech something at us, but before she can so much as blow a plume of smoke in our direction, a glass cage slams down all around them, trapping the High Council members in there and cutting off Sorrel’s access to her magic.
I jump a little as the cage slams down on top of them, and then I try to brush it off as nothing when I feel Rogan chuckling at my expense next to me.
“This is an act of war, do you hear me?” Sorrel shouts at Dyad, her voice slightly muffled by the glass encasing her. “Let me out right this minute!” she screams even louder.
She paces inside the glass like an animal, and I can see her calculating and twisting things and trying to figure a way out. I should feel bad for her; I was just in her shoes, terrified and trying to figure out a way to save Rogan and Elon, but all she’s doing is looking for a way to save herself. She can rot in that glass cage for all I care.
I feel a strange pull on that magical source that feels similar to a ley line, the one Sorrel tapped into earlier when she was trying to leave. I want to ask what it is, but Gremory appears back in the bone room, and he’s accompanied by three other demons. One looks strikingly like a praying mantis with a long human-like face, and the other two demons look like people-sized versions of a bright yellow tarsier monkey. Their eyes are huge and dart around the room frantically in a way that makes me nervous.
All the demons start discussing things amongst themselves again, and this time I don’t even try to listen.
“You okay?” Rogan leans in to ask me, and I nod.
“Yeah, I just wish this was all over already. My nerves are shot to shit,” I tell him, and he nods with understanding. “Are you okay?” I turn to him to ask, looking him over for any signs that what’s happening is taking a bigger toll on him than I realized.
Technically, there are two people in the cage to our left who are the reason Rogan and Elon even exist. I wouldn’t blame him if this turned out to be harder than he realized.
“I’m fine, I keep waiting for her to find a way out of this,” he admits with a hollow laugh. “She’s been hunting me and Elon for so long now I don’t even know if I believe this is it. I doubt I’ll even believe she’s dead when she actually is. I’m afraid to get too hopeful.”
“I know exactly what you mean, and I haven’t even been dealing with her nearly as long as you have. It’s going to take time to deal with everything. There’s a lot to unpack and process,” I agree, and Rogan pulls me in for a hug.
I burrow in against him, relishing his warmth and strength. I thought for a while there I was never going to feel his arms around me again, and now I want to be sure that I never take this for granted, not even for a second.
“Do you not want me to kill them?” I ask quietly, not looking Rogan in the eye so that he feels he has the space and support to answer this question however he wants to.
He sighs and kisses the top of my head. “I hate that they’re forcing you to make this decision. I wish all of this wasn’t on your shoulders, but as brutal as it sounds, they need to die,” he tells me with firm conviction. “There isn’t a redeeming quality in any of them, and the world will be far better off without them than it would with them.”
I nod my agreement and look up at him. I offer what comfort I can in a soft smile and a gaze filled with respect and admiration.
“Should I request that Elon be allowed to witness this?” I press.
Rogan runs his fingers through my hair in thought. “He probably won’t like me deciding for him, but he’s seen enough horrible things in life. I don’t see the point in adding more to that, especially not for monsters like them,” he tells me, gesturing to the glass cage, and I look over to see Rogan’s mother is watching us.
Unease skitters over my skin, and I can tell by the manic twinkle in her eyes that she has a plan.
Oh goodie...not.
“Lennox Osseous,” Dyad calls, and I look up at the collection of demons by the dais. “In order to confirm your claim, Julius will test your magic,” he tells me, gesturing to the praying mantis demon. “Once that’s established, the twins will then review your contract for the souls.”
“Fine with me,” I tell him, and he studies me as though he’s lookin
g for how I’m tricking them right now.
Jokes on you, bud, no tricks up my oversized sleeves.
Julius scurries closer to me, and I try not to flinch away from him as he does. He indicates for me to extend my arm, and when I do, he gives me a small scratch. He collects a small amount of blood and then scrapes it into a vial where he promptly starts to shake it, and then all eyes are on him as he analyzes it with nothing more than his own two eyes.
“Rogan Kendrick, you will let me out of this cage right now, do you hear me?” Sorrel suddenly snaps out of nowhere, and fury instantly boils in my blood.
I hear Rogan scoff next to me like he finds her efforts amusing, but I don’t find anything funny about it. This bitch hired a fucking demon to torture secrets out of her own children, and now she wants to order one around like she has any right to play the mom card.
I whirl on her. “If you know what is good for you, you will never speak to him again. Don’t say his name, in fact don’t even look at him. I don’t have to make your death painless, let’s be very fucking clear about that,” I growl at her.
She glares at me but doesn’t say another word to him.
“The claim is valid,” Julius announces, and then just like that, he disappears.
The High Demons all look at me again like I’m some sort of freak of nature. They’re not wrong, but still it’s rude. Sorrel and Bordow start to argue venomously, but I’m distracted from their catfight when a leather reclining chair appears behind me out of nowhere. I squeal in surprise when there’s suddenly a giant yellow tarsier monkey in my face, pushing me down into the chair. My feet go flying up with a shriek when someone pulls the reclining lever without warning, and Rogan chuckles but doesn’t leave my side. I wrangle in my fight-or-flight instinct and barely stop myself from giving the man I love the bird for laughing at my expense, damn handsy monkeys. The yellow tarsier demons stare at my feet intently, and I try very hard not to fidget.
