Haunted by Shadows: Magic Wars: Demons of New Chicago Book Two
Page 21
Her mouth slanted into a smirk, a sly expression entering her features. “Well, judging by all that red on your tits, you really did let Ronan suck your blo—”
I couldn’t hear her say it again. I whacked the door with one hand, and it shot back, the handle burrowing in the wall. Both Nat and I paused, then looked sideways at it.
I slipped past her while she was scratching the back of her head. “Is this thing going to blow up if I just pull it out of the wall?” she called after me. I continued down the hall toward the shared bathroom.
“Not if you’re careful,” I called back. Then I thought better of it, and added, “Probably.”
Her curses followed me into the shower, but after a quick rinse and dressing in my own clothes, I returned to the living room. I hadn’t heard a bomb, so I was fairly certain she was fine, the gaping hole in the drywall notwithstanding.
“You know, I go to your bedside twice a day for five weeks, and this,” she motioned to the door, “is how you repay me?”
“I’m still sore on the fact that you spied for Ronan. Don’t push it.”
“Oh, let it go. That’s old news now,” she said, putting a kettle on. “Besides, now that you’re a full-fledged demon, we’re going to rectify it.”
“The bond is complete. I’m not sure if that’s the same thing as being a ‘full-fledged’ demon—”
“Close enough,” she said, dumping some dried leaves that looked like potpourri in a cylindrical ball with holes. “Now that the bond’s complete, does that give him access to your mind?”
“Parts of it,” I said grudgingly.
“Fascinating,” she murmured, dropping the ball in a mug. “Can he read your thoughts?”
“Not unless I want him to. It’s more of just a general feeling. I get the sense he’s watching my emotions closely.”
Nathalie snorted and then let out a witch-worthy cackle. “Of course he’s watching. You just bonded, and then you up and left him. And by the way you looked when I opened the door, don’t even try to lie and tell me nothing happened. You fucked.”
I didn’t deny it, instead opting to pick at a hangnail on my thumb.
“Are you done here?”
“I’m not the one that showed up at three a.m., dude. You’re lucky I’m just wired from being worried that my apartment was going to blow up after that crap you just pulled with the door—which by the way, if that’s a demon thing, you’re going to have to work on it. I’ll pay for the damage this time because you just got a power up, but we’re going to have to work something out if this becomes a habit—”
“Nat,” I interrupted. “As much as we both know how you love to drive me fucking crazy—I didn’t show up on your doorstep this early in the morning to talk about Ronan or the exchange.” I gave her a pointed look while she poured the hot water from the kettle into the mug. The scent of jasmine and vanilla perfumed the air.
Nat inhaled its aroma and then sighed. She set the mug back down and walked over to her coat rack. Unzipping a small satchel, she pulled out a familiar hairbrush that was covered in long brown hair.
“I guess it’s a good thing I gambled you wouldn’t enter stasis again and stole this out of Bree’s room this afternoon.” She set the hairbrush on the kitchen counter. “I don’t suppose you’ll let this wait till morning?” She gave me a hopeful look, then cast one toward the hall where her bedroom was.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ve been searching for answers for a decade, and my sister isn’t immortal. For all we know, the morning will bring some new enemy to our door, and I just can’t chance it. Time is never on my side. I have to do this.”
She blew out a tired breath, unsurprised but still put out that she couldn't sleep more. “All right, but I need to finish my tea. You’ll need me awake to do the summoning.” Nat reached over and clasped a plastic handle, pulling a serrated knife out of the block on the counter. “In the meantime, decide where I’m taking blood from and what our deal will be. Then grab a tarp out of the greenhouse.”
I frowned. “What do you need a tarp for?”
The look she gave me was pitying. “The way we’re going to get her back is the same siphoning I used on Lucifer with some minor tweaks. I spent the time while you were in stasis working on it. Tailoring it to find her. But even with my changes, I couldn’t get around the blood price. I won’t lie to you, it’s a lot. Are you sure you can pay it?”
“Is this really a question? You know I will,” I said, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Where is this going? Because you already know the answer.”
Nathalie sighed, then took a sip from her tea. “There are things to consider here.”
“Such as?”
“All the shit that can go wrong, Piper. I’m fairly confident this will work, but let’s talk about the what ifs here,” she said.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No.”
She smacked her hand on the counter. “Yes.”
I raised my eyebrows, assessing her in that moment. I exhaled, annoyed and feeling like she was trying to talk me out of it. I waved my hand at her, telling her to go on.
“Aeshma didn’t go as planned when they summoned her. That’s why you’re here. The summoning with Ronan didn’t go as planned, and we all see how that is working out. My arrogant family siphoning Lucifer didn’t go as planned . . .” she trailed off, momentarily lost in thought. Clearing her throat, she went on. “Basically we have nothing but failure to compare this to. Not once has it worked out the way anyone has planned. I know you will do anything for her. I know it. I won’t try to talk you out of this, but I have to say these words out loud. Can you truly pay whatever price this will cost?”
I didn’t hesitate because to me, it didn’t matter if I could or could not.
I would find a way through sheer force of will.
This would not fail because of me.
“I can,” I said in a hushed voice, the edges of the serrated knife glinted in the lights of her kitchen.
“Then get the tarp. I’m not ruining my floors when it can be avoided.”
30
I sat cross-legged on the floor across from Nat. Between us were two blades: the kitchen knife and a ceremonial athame. Hundreds of candles formed a circle around us, casting a soft glow over the apartment. Inside, we lined the circle with salt.
“Have you decided?” she asked, her light brown eyes turning golden in the dim light.
I picked up the serrated blade. “I have.”
“And?”
I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. Three months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it if someone told me I’d be binding myself to a witch and letting her use my power to open a portal to Hell. I looked back and knew what led me here, but I didn’t relate to it anymore. It felt like another life. Another person entirely.
My words were strong and steady when I lifted the knife and my hand, looking Nat in the eye. “I ask for unyielding loyalty and honesty in all matters that pertain to me. In return, I give you my blood so that you may shed your ties to all others. Nathalie Opal Le Fay, do you accept this bargain?”
Magic reverberated in my words. It was in every exhale of my breath, wrapping around us both in the makings of a bond. An oath.
“I do.”
Her words were a flick of a thumb over a lighter. A spark of flame over gasoline. The magic that had been tentatively weaving itself snapped taut, very much alive.
I turned my index finger to press it to the edges of the knife. The pointed metal dug into my flesh, a slight prick of pain. I pressed harder until two drops of blood welled between my finger and the blade. Then I carefully pulled it out, taking the magical ichor with it.
I extended the blade to Nat. She took the handle from me and without fear, licked the drops off the blade.
I gasped as an invisible tether snapped between us. It wasn’t the bridge that Ronan and I had, but instead a tight rope. A lifeline. There was something intimate about it that I didn’t expect.
She regarded me with a shrewd expression for a moment, then shrugged.
“I don’t want to own you, or anyone for that matter, and I don’t think I could search through your mind if I tried. I just don’t want you reporting to Ronan about me.”
She nodded and tossed the blade outside of the circle. With that part out of the way, it was time for the real finale. My heart sped up a little and my magic grew restless. I sensed Ronan watching my emotions flutter and fluctuate, I tried to push the nervous anxiousness down, but it did little good when Nat picked up the athame.
“Once I start, I can’t stop. I can’t pause. We have to follow it through to the end—otherwise we run the risk of losing control and unleashing your magic on New Chicago.”
My mouth went dry. I nodded stiffly.
“Piper,” she sighed. “Are you sure—”
“I’m sure,” I snapped a little harder than I meant. I knew she was just concerned. Worry permeated her features between the drawn together eyebrows and pinched lips.
“I’m going to do my best to go slow enough to give your body time to heal as we go. The further along we get, the more the magic will start urging me on. I can’t stop, but if you fear you’re going to black out, snap your fingers three times.”
The reason for the snapping made sense when she lifted a clean rag I was meant to bite down on. A cold flush broke out over my skin.
“We have to start,” I told her. “Ronan can sense me even if he can’t read you. If we take too long—”
“Say no more.” She lifted the athame and pointed at me. “Strip down so that all your brands are visible.”
“Do I need to do anything during the siphoning?” I asked, shucking my sweater off. The cool air made me stiffen.
“No. I’d probably try to focus on Bree since she’s the reason you’re doing this. Gives you something to hold on for.”
I wasn’t a coward, nor was I scared of a little pain, but I also wasn’t a masochist. Nathalie had spared me the grisly details of what she would do to me so that she could harness my magic and single-handedly open a portal.
It shouldn’t kill me. Shouldn’t. Nathalie wouldn’t do it if she weren’t confident she could keep me alive.
But even all the confidence in the world wouldn’t matter if the spell went sideways. I just had to hope she was right.
“Let’s do this.”
She straddled my waist in baggy sweatpants and a hoodie. Her long hair was tied up into a messy bun, and sleep still lined her eyes, even if they were bright and calculating. She lifted the knife and pressed the tip to my sternum.
A cold wind blew through the living room, but the windows were closed.
Every candle went out.
And my heart stuttered.
Ronan was here.
“I’d hoped you would at least wait till morning,” he murmured.
Shock ran through me.
“Wait. What?”
I eyed Nathalie suspiciously, like she was the cause for his presence. She lifted her hands, athame and all, in a sign of surrender. “Not me, dude. I kept this from him while you were in stasis.”
Which meant—
“I’m ten thousand years old, Piper. Did you truly think you could keep this from me? I knew you two were up to something, and I’d already worked out that a portal was the only way to bring your sister back. Here you are, as expected, and you don’t even have her body,” he said.
My cheeks heated, and I was thankful for the dark in that moment.
“Congratulations, Harvester. You outsmarted two twenty-somethings. Would you like a cookie or a bone?” I said acidly.
Nathalie stifled a laugh, attempting to mask it with a cough before she spoke. “I don’t need Bree here, Ronan. She just needs her body to return to. Was it ideal that she’d wake up in your apartment? Not really, but beggars can’t be choosers. It’s not like you would have just handed her over.”
“You didn’t bother asking,” he said quietly.
Tired of the back and forth, I asked, “So good for you, you’re here to stop us. What now?”
“Actually, Atma, I’d like to help.”
I shot up, and Nat fell back, catching herself on her wrists.
“Forgive me for having a hard time believing that—”
“What’s so hard to believe?” he questioned, stepping forward. The hundreds of candles that surrounded us illuminated once more when he entered the circle. In his arms was my sister, Bree. He took two steps to the right and twisted to lay her body on the couch. His muscles bunched and contracted as he lowered her, and then he turned around. “I tried to keep you safe, and you fought me harder, almost dying multiple times in the process.” Silver eyes turned glacial as he looked over my half-naked body with unmasked possessiveness and something else. “I might be stubborn, but I’m not dense, and I won’t make the same mistake twice where you’re concerned. You would die for your sister if you thought it would bring her back. I see that. Just as I would if it were you.” He turned his cheek to look at Nat, who sat on my legs and was looking back and forth between the two of us. “Which is why you’re going to use both of us.”
“Both of us?” I uttered.
“I would do it alone if you’d let me, but—”
“Not a chance.”
He smirked. “I suspected as much.” Ronan dropped onto one knee. He was already shirtless himself. “Which is why you’ll go first.”
I narrowed my eyes. Inside, I was screaming this was too good to be true. But a smaller voice whispered, what if it is?
He’d given me the third exchange so I wouldn’t be a slave to my own power.
Now he was going to help get my sister back.
The things he did for me weren’t hearts and flowers. They were as deep and raw as this thing between us. They were real.
And while I didn’t love him, they made me feel something.
“All right,” I said. “You want to help? Fine, but I’m not giving you anything in exchange for it.”
His smirk widened. Ronan dropped to his knees and cupped my cheek, then dropped his hand lower to grasp my throat. “I already have everything I want,” he said, the meaning in his gestures clear.
I narrowed my eyes, and Nat cleared her throat.
“If we’re going to do this . . .” She made a laying down motion.
I pulled back, and Ronan held me there for a moment—just to prove he could—before releasing me. My back settled against the scratchy tarp. Warm fingers wrapped around mine.
I tilted my chin to look over at him in silent question. He returned my stare, unwavering. He shoved the clean rag between my parted lips.
Then metal pierced my skin.
Nathalie began to chant.
My breath lodged in my throat.
Rage burned.
“Breathe,” he commanded quietly. His hand gripped mine, hot and hard with a staunchness that kept me grounded.
Nat kept cutting. The blade swept over my skin like a paint brush, tracing the lines of my brands. If she meant to do them all—
I hissed in pain as she dragged the tip over the side of my breast.
Her eyes said what her words couldn’t. She spoke faster. Stronger. Louder.
Magic filled the room, and the more blood of mine that spilled, the more that magic wrapped around us.
The pain was starting to mix together when her legs slid over my lap. She nudged my side for me to turn over. Ronan helped me, and she used the blade to trace my sides carefully as he did so.
She worked her way over my ribs, then up my spine, before going ba
ck down. When she only had the arm he was holding left, we maneuvered again. I couldn't count the number of times I screamed and moaned. Each sound drew a frown from Ronan. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t try to stop her.
I should have been focusing on my sister—but it was Ronan that occupied my mind and held me there.
When the blade moved from the edge of my wrist directly to his, I knelt at his side and held his hand the same as he’d held mine. Our blood mixed and mingled, but with the third exchange out of the way, I didn’t feel the overwhelming desire to drink it like before. Certainly not with the open wounds on my chest, back, and arms still bleeding. My sternum was only just starting to close.
The breath hissed between his lips as Nat traced the athame over his brands.
I ripped the rag from my mouth and shoved it toward his. He shook his head once, and I glowered, tossing it aside.
If he wanted to risk biting his tongue off, let him.
Soon, another magic was filling the space beside mine. Where the rage in my veins felt like fire and burned like hate, this other magic was unruly. Dark, yet not evil. It felt like temptation and the edge of choice. It was adrenaline and desire. It carried hints of rage, of spirit, of death—but it wasn’t them. It was wholly different.
While in the throes of our exchanges, I never had the head to pay close attention to what his magic smelled or tasted or felt like. But I did now, exhausted and weak as I was.
It brushed against my skin, both taunting me and calming me simultaneously.
“Chaos,” I whispered beneath Nathalie’s haunting chants. “You’re a chaos demon.”
Ronan’s eyes flashed in recognition, not that Nat herself seemed to notice. A glazed look had taken over her face. One of rapture. The magic she was wielding had pulled her entirely under.
A sliver of uncertainty crept into me as she climbed over Ronan’s body without even seeming to notice what she was doing. Her hand grabbed his naked side, pushing it in silent request for him to turn. She kept cutting as he hauled himself into a sitting position.