“I know someone who fits that description who will be willing to help.”
The demon’s eyes lit with pre-emptive victory. “I wish I could say I was surprised, but—”
“But it’ll cost you.”
“I have money—”
“Not in coin,” I said,
His gaze fell heavy on my chest and his eyes narrowed. “Something else, then, perhaps?”
I closed my eyes and gripped the latch hard enough for pain to eclipse the brewing warmth in my belly. “In information.”
He let out a put-upon sigh, and I opened my eyes to watch as he rearranged himself on my bed, leaning back on his outstretched arm. He made the pose look far more seductive than it should have. “And what is it you’d like to know, Andy my dear?”
I didn’t hesitate. “How to kill Xandros—without your help.”
“It cannot be done,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I know of a grimoire that says otherwise,” I replied. “A book written by your own kind containing a spell to do just that.”
He sat up slowly, any hint of amusement and seduction gone from his icy glare. “If this were true, then you wouldn't need me to tell you.”
I weighed my words carefully before speaking. “Our translation will be complete soon enough. If you tell me what it says, then I will help you.”
“But then you would not need me, according to your own admission.”
At that, I shrugged. “Such a conundrum, Zen my dear. Whatever shall you do—”
In a flash, he was on me, his hand wrapped around my neck as he slammed me against the door, fingers flexing against my throat. A low, animalistic growl escaped him, his nose skimming my cheek before his lips reached my ear.
“The clever witch thinks she has me over a barrel, does she? That she can leverage me into signing my own death warrant somehow?” His teeth grazed my earlobe, nipping the tender flesh hard enough to draw blood, and I pressed harder against the door out of reflex. “But what she continually fails to realize is that it will take one of my kind to help her achieve her end, and endeavoring to find a volunteer would seal her fate—the one she narrowly escaped months ago.” He dragged the fingers of his free hand along my cheek, just as Xandros had the night I’d escaped. “Is that what you really want, Andy? To die? Because I can give you death, once you help me kill Xandros—”
“If I wanted to die, I’d have let him finish me off in your realm, but I didn’t. I don’t plan to let you, either.”
“But was it your will that saved you, or something else?” he asked.
“The call of the Lilies pulled me from the demon realm just in time.”
He pulled away to assess me. The fathomless depths of his dark eyes stared as he searched mine for something; then his rigid features softened, and a wicked, mirthless smile spread wide across his face. “Is that how it happened?” he asked, sounding not at all inquisitive. “Or is that just how you choose to remember it?”
“I remember it well,” I lied, leaning closer despite his grip on my throat.
“So I see.”
“Tell me or I won’t help you.”
His eyes skimmed my face and my body as he considered his options. Then his hold on my neck loosened before his hand fell away altogether, leaving me pressed against the door before him, breathing hard. “All right, Andy, I’ll make you a deal,” he said, sounding much more like I’d come to expect. “I will tell you how to kill a demon, but only after you bind yourself to me.”
“What?”
“This will ensure that you can’t do anything foolish once you know the secret.”
“Bind myself to you? What does that even mean?” I asked, knowing that the answer couldn’t be good. Binding oneself to anything as a witch had consequences, and they were rarely if ever worth it.
“It means that your power would combine with mine. We’d be magically tethered, essentially.”
“Of all the half-witted ideas I’ve ever heard—”
“That is my deal,” he said, cutting off my rant. “You can take it or leave it.”
“Then I’ll leave it,” I snarled as I pushed forward against him.
“Then Xandros will win and you will die.”
The truth in his words only fueled my anger and I glared at him, channeling every bit of it at him. “I hate you!”
“Which is unfortunate, to be sure, but it changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.” Terror and anger warred within me, tearing me apart from the inside. I would never have revenge if Xandros succeeded—an unfathomable fate—but so too would be being bound to a demon, no matter what all that entailed. Being tethered to a bringer of death, a stealer of souls, would be equally terrible and tragic, and I had no intention of doing it.
Then the thought of Xandros annihilating the Lilies flashed through my mind, and the battle for what to do waged on.
“What will happen if I don’t do as you suggest?”
“Xandros will soon learn the Demonheart’s whereabouts and procure it, then come looking for that shred of soul you still owe him; and you, in all your foolish pride, will be without the ability to stop him from finishing what he started. Or maybe he’ll find you first…”
I thought about the grimoire and the spells Ivy and the others were working to decipher. They hadn’t gotten as far as I’d bluffed they had, and with demons amassing in the city, I wasn’t sure there was enough time for them to learn the secrets it held before one of those demons found me—other than Zen. Still, binding myself to a demon in order to ensure my safety and that of my sisters was lunacy at best.
But perhaps I could convince him to help me without that bond.
“Tick tock, Andy…”
“What if I agree to help you without the bond? Then we both get what we want.”
His eyes narrowed. “But then you’d know how to kill a demon, and I’m afraid I need some assurance that you can’t turn that knowledge on me once we’ve met our mutual goal.”
“Wouldn’t I need a demon to help me? Unless you’re lying about that, of course.”
His mouth pressed to a thin line in irritation. “I’m not, but it wouldn’t be difficult to find one willing to help you achieve that end.”
“So, this whole thing was a ruse to get me to bind myself to you?”
He spread his hands wide. “You merely presented me with an opportunity to make the offer I’d have made eventually anyway.”
“The offer I must accept if I want to defeat Xandros.”
“Precisely. So, what’s your answer, Andy my dear?”
No.
“There must be a catch to binding myself to you,” I said, cocking my head. “I want to know what it is.”
He took a step back and smoothed his frock coat. “There are benefits to the bond and disadvantages as well. It will allow me to stay on Earth without limitation, which will speed our search, given that not even Xandros can do this at present. It will also grant us access to one another’s strengths and power when necessary.”
“And the shortcomings?”
“Severing the bond is not without consequence, and whatever damage one sustains while bound, the other will share to some degree or another—including death.”
“So, essentially, binding myself to you would enable me to kill demons, but if I were to kill you, I would die as well.”
He nodded. “A predicament, to be sure, but together we would be too powerful for Xandros to defeat, unless he finds the Demonheart Opal first and finishes the rite. The one for which he needs your complete soul…"
Suddenly, both Xandros’ hunt for me and Zen’s desire to use me became clear. Either my former torturer or I would survive this mess, but not both, and he already had the advantage: Xandros knew how to claim what he desired. I, however, did not.
As though my thoughts were playing out in my expression, Zen watched me curiously. “Given your silence and bizarre countenance, I shall assume that I forgot to mention t
hat tidbit before now.”
“Yes,” I finally managed to say, “you did.”
“Well, fear not, Andy my dear. It changes my plan not at all.”
“But it changes mine.”
He canted his head. “How so? Do you no longer wish to kill him?”
“Of course I do—”
“Then nothing has changed. You merely understand the stakes better. And now that you do, you can see why binding yourself to me is in your best interest.”
“Say that I go along with your plan and bind myself to you. What are the consequences of severing the bond?”
Again that malicious smile. “Banishment and death. The former for me, the latter for you.”
“Are you implying that this bond would be for life?” I asked, my tone incredulous, because that couldn’t be true. What madness was this?
“I’m not implying it, Andy my dear—I’m stating it outright.”
My mind reeled with this information, searching for loopholes or trickery. He was, after all, a demon. Honesty was not something one could depend on from them. “How do I know you’re not leaving out other crucial details?”
“You don’t.”
“Then why should I trust you?”
“Because all I care about is stopping Xandros.”
“Enough to lie to make that happen?”
“Yes. But I’m not.”
“And if that was a lie?”
“Well then, you’re once again in quite the pickle. I wonder how you’ll sort it all out…”
“I need some time to think about it.”
“Somehow, I knew you’d say that, so I’ve already planned for your uncertainty. But do not ponder for too long. You never know when another demon might darken your doorstep.” He reached past me to unlock the door, then brushed my hip as his hand gripped the knob. A crackle of magic flared through that area on contact, and my breath hitched in my throat at the feel of it. “If you’d be so kind, I’d prefer to slip into my realm somewhere a little more private.”
I stepped away, and he swung the door open. It clicked shut just as my mind cleared enough for more questions to come forward. Questions like what he planned to do with the Demonheart Opal—and what would happen to my soul—once Xandros was dead. I ripped the door open to ask, but the long hallway was empty, with no sign of Zen. I backed inside and locked the door again, wondering what in the world I was going to do with one demon trying to bind me to him and another trying to take the final shred of my soul. The latter had taught me well that demons couldn’t be trusted.
So how could I trust the former?
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was early afternoon the next day when Ivy finally tracked me down. In fairness, I was halfway to the guild when she walked up behind me and hooked her arm in mine. I hadn’t been trying to avoid her or the others, at least not entirely. I’d just needed time to come up with a plan that would help us stop the demons without my having to reveal the source of my information—or bind myself to Zen. No easy feat, I’d realized as I’d wandered the streets from the richest wards to the poorest in search of answers.
“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk—which meant I was in for quite the battle.
“I had a long night. I woke up late, and then Mrs. Whittle waylaid me with tales of a young blacksmith she met recently. He’s single, you know, and not at all particular.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Indeed.”
She gave my arm a squeeze and leaned in closer as a gust of icy wind blew past. “Oleander, let me speak plainly. I’m worried about you—”
“Don’t be—”
“—your behavior has been a bit…erratic since the…well, the you-know-what arrived.”
I stared down the group of well-dressed men walking by, their eyes glued to Ivy. “Can you blame me?”
She smiled at them, then dared a sideward glance at me. “Of course I can’t. None of us do. But I know you well enough to be concerned about how this is affecting you.” She bit her lip as she thought through her next words. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for you—to live without your full soul. To be woken every night by the same dream—”
“How do you know about that?”
“Your past haunts you, Oleander, and I can see it.”
“It would haunt anyone, Ivy. Now, tell me how you know about the dreams?”
Her gaze fixed on the distant horizon well beyond the buildings of the city and never faltered. “When you finally came to us—answered the Lilies’ call—I had Petal watch over you.”
I pulled out of her hold and ground to halt in the middle of the street. A carriage veered around us, nearly crashing into another as the driver looked back at us, spewing curses. “You did what?”
“You have to understand my position—”
“You violated the number one rule of the guild…of…” I cut myself off before I shouted ‘witches’ loudly enough for half the city to hear me.
“You were not well,” she argued, squaring off to face me. Though shorter than me by two inches and with a slighter build, she was intimidating—a delicate force to be reckoned with. “I had to think of the safety of the others. Had to consider the importance of what we do as a whole.”
“And just what, pray tell, did Petal see?”
Her lips pressed to a grim line as she inhaled sharply. “You.” That word lingered between us for a moment before she leaned in closer. “Shackled to a wall, beaten, broken, and bleeding. She described your body as having been ‘carved up’. She said that she watched as that monster pulled your soul from deep inside you; watched you weaken and wither and collapse to the ground. But then she said that she felt the fight come back into you. Saw you reach for your soul in an attempt to right the mistake you had made in a moment of desperation. That’s when our call must have finally reached you—”
“Why do you say that?” I whispered, disbelief and the memory of that moment making my limbs grow cold. “What did she see?”
Ivy took my icy hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. “She said that she saw the tether between you and the creature who had stolen you fading from you to him, and then, in a blur of motion, you disappeared, and everything went black. She said that it feels like you’re missing something from that memory, and that you’ve had that dream every night from the time you arrived until now, as if you are subconsciously looking for that missing piece.”
The hole in my memory that I could not fill couldn’t be found by Petal either, an ominous sign indeed. Or, perhaps, a mercy. I pulled out of her grasp. “She still does it?” Panic mixed with anger, warming me instantly. “You had no right, Ivy—this is an invasion of my privacy!”
“It is a necessary precaution.”
“Was,” I snarled, leaning my face into hers. “It ends now.”
“I will make it stop if you promise me one thing.”
My scowl deepened. “What?”
“That you will stop going after them alone—no matter what.”
“I’m not—”
“Please don’t insult me with your denial. I am no fool, Oleander. I know damn well that you haven’t just been wasting your time at the saloon, drinking away your sorrows.”
I couldn’t keep the shock from my face, nor the fear that followed close behind. “Do you have Petal watching over me when I’m awake, too?”
“On occasion, though she swears you have not been doing anything reckless. Yet.”
“Ivy—”
“Promise me that this stops and I won’t have her do it again, Oleander. You can go after them once the translation is completed, but not a moment sooner,” she said, hands on hips. “And this is a job for all of us, not just you.”
I took a breath to steady myself, allowing my curtain of discontent to fall into place. “If I agree, how do I know you’ll keep up your end of the bargain?”
She cocked her head at me and folded her arms “How do I know you will?”
“Wit
hout using Petal, you don’t.”
“There is another way,” she said slyly. I didn’t like anything about her tone or the look in her eyes. She was baiting me into a trap, and I, with my temper in all its glory, was walking right in.
“I will not whisperswear it, Ivy, if that’s what you’re trying to suggest,” I said, leaning in for only her to hear. “I should not have to bind my word magically.”
“But in this matter, I don’t trust you.”
“That’s your problem.”
“It is…and I shall deal with it accordingly. Including having Petal continue to keep an eye on you.”
Ice shot through my body once again. I had heard the Greek myth about Scylla and Charybdis as a child but had never felt myself in that predicament before. But there, standing in the bustling street with the leader of the Lilies, I was quite literally between a rock and hard place. If I whisperswore to her that I wouldn’t go after Xandros, the magic would bind me from attacking him and taking my revenge—with or without Zen’s help—which would let him ascend as the demon king and wreak destruction upon the Earth. If I didn’t, I feared what Petal could learn if she focused her growing skills on what else was in my mind, apart from my dreams.
I needed a spell or potion to block her from doing just that.
“Give me until tomorrow to think about it. I’ll have an answer for you by then.”
She eyed me for a moment, then nodded; in her eyes, the matter was closed for the time being, and just like that, her pleasant mask fell back into place. She hooked her arm with mine again, as though we hadn’t just had a standoff in the middle of the street. As though she hadn’t just admitted to the biggest taboo amongst witches—using their powers on their coven sisters (or fellow Lilies). It made me question everything I knew about Ivy Foxglove and the leader she’d become.
It made me realize how easy she was to underestimate.
“Now,” she said, patting my arm, “we have something else we need to discuss.”
“And what might that be? Has Petal been rooting around in the other Lilies’ heads, too?”
A Curse of Nightshade (Witches of the Gilded Lilies Book 1) Page 7
