“Like Edna then?” she asked, confused by how withdrawn he had become. He had been fine when they were in the hotel. He has more mood swings than a woman! she thought.
“Yes, like Edna. Everyone else will be preparing for the spell. It'll take a lot of magic for Ada to perform it. Benedict will help her, of course, but still.”
“Why are you suddenly mad at me?” she finally asked once they were around the corner and away from prying eyes. She was getting annoyed. She was nervous about what she was about to do and really needed his support. Dealing with his PMS was something she shouldn't have to be doing.
“Yes, I’m mad.” He whirled around to face her. “There is no need for you to do this. This is a difficult spell, even for Benedict and Ada!”
Lilliah stared, too shocked to respond.
“And yet here we are! You’re just walking into this like it’s nothing!” he finished, almost shouting.
“Where is all of this coming from?” she asked, her own anger simmering. Could he not just help her through this? Couldn’t he just hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be all right?
“We've been through this. I need to know my past,” she answered, wanting his support more than anything, but she refused to beg for it. “How can I do any of this without remembering who I am or what I’m capable of?” she asked him, trying to make him understand. “I can’t save my mum or protect myself as boring, old Lilliah Daniels. And you being like this”—she waved her hand in front of him—“isn't helping. It's actually making it worse.”
The only sound in the hallway was Lilliah's soft panting. They stood there, looking at each other, both breathing heavily but not speaking. What made it worse was that everyone had probably heard them.
“You are the same person,” he finally said, coming to stand in front of her, their noses just touching.
Closing her eyes and breathing him in, Lilliah felt more relaxed and confident all at the same time.
“You don't need to know your past. It doesn’t dictate your future. Whoever that girl was, it doesn’t matter now. She lived and breathed a long time ago.”
Lilliah could feel herself getting more and more deflated as he spoke. She knew the words he was saying were true, but she wanted this, even if it was for crazy reasons. She wanted to remember.
“You promised to take care of me, and I know you will. But I have to take care of my family. I can't do that like this,” she explained.
“Fine, if this is what you truly want. I'll come and hold your hand and be by your side. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this.” Azrael caught Lilliah as she threw herself at him, finally letting go of the breath she had been holding when his arms tightened around her.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I want to do this, for me. I can’t do this without you.”
Slowly releasing her, Azrael reached for her hand. “You can do anything you want,” he told her, his face serious. “But I’ll be here anyway. I won’t let go of your hand.”
Feeling invincible, Lilliah followed him through the door and up the narrow stairs. The dark hallway they entered led to an even darker stone stairway, as if they had just walked into a castle.
“This is the older part of the building,” Azrael explained, walking ahead. “It's more than five hundred years old.”
“Azrael, it's been a very long time. But you haven’t changed a bit,” a female voice spoke. Stretching so she was on her tiptoes, Lilliah looked past Azrael. She could see an older woman waiting for them at the top of the stairs. She was at least fifty years old, and the cape she was wearing hung loosely around her. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
Lilliah watched her turn and walk away, her long blonde hair swaying behind her.
“You ready?” Azrael asked, turning slightly to see Lilliah nod.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied, letting Azrael lead her.
The cold air hit her instantly; the room was freezing and dimly lit by candles, taking Lilliah a couple of seconds to adjust.
“There you are, Azrael. I presume you are Lilliah, yes?” an older, shorter gentleman asked, coming to stand in front of them. The black cloak he was wearing flowed behind him, giving her a glimpse of his black jeans underneath.
Even warlocks wear denim. Lilliah silently giggled.
His smile was kind, but his eyes were hard. She couldn’t help but feel on edge.
She noticed that six other people were in the room, all wearing the same black cape but with their hoods up so she couldn’t see their faces. The woman who had led them in stood near the wall, observing everything.
“You are quite a rarity, my dear,” said the warlock. “I'm Christopher. It is my pleasure to meet you.” He smiled, holding out his hand in such a theatrical way that she couldn’t help but smile weakly. He reminded her of an old drama teacher she’d had at school; she had never liked him either.
“If we could just get this moving, Christopher; we don't have all day,” Azrael cut in, making it clear he didn’t like this man either. Knowing she wasn’t the only one getting bad vibes put her at ease.
“Azrael, my old friend.” Christopher laughed, sounding overly friendly as his eyes finally left Lilliah to look up at Azrael. “You have eternity.” With one more glance in Lilliah's direction, Christopher turned, walking back to the six others who hadn’t talked or moved.
“He does know that I’m not immortal, right?” Moving so she was closer to Azrael, Lilliah leant in as close as she could possibly get.
“Yes, he knows that,” Azrael replied, his eyes staring straight ahead at Christopher, who was talking with another caped figure.
“Was the woman who met us Ada?” She had never met Ada Washington in person. She felt that was a little unnerving since her life would shortly be in Ada’s hands.
“No. Her name’s Megan.”
Lilliah looked up, annoyed with his short answers. Hadn’t they already decided not five minutes ago that he'd put his opinion aside and just help her through this? What could have possibly changed from then to now?
“Right,” she answered, still looking at his face. He was staring ahead still, his eyes narrowing on Christopher. “Is Christopher like Ada? Looks young but is actually two hundred years old or something?” she pressed, wanting him to talk. When she was nervous she tended to ramble, talking about nothing for the sake of talking. Her mum had always teased her about it.
“No. Christopher's just another warlock. He won’t even be in the room when the spell is performed. He's just getting the preparations ready. Are you okay?” Azrael finally looked down at her, his brow creasing.
“Yeah. Just suddenly nervous.”
“You'll be fine. I won’t leave the room at all. And if you want to stop it any time, all you'll have to do is say so,” he said with a smile, taking her hand.
“I know, I know. I'm just being silly. Where’s Benedict?” She looked around, not sure whether he was one of the hooded figures. They really did all look the same.
“He's probably preparing. They have to perform certain rituals before they undertake a big spell like this.”
“Oh. That's good then,” she said, quickly looking around the room. It was small and dark, the stone walls making it even darker. And there was nothing in it except for a chair and a set of drawers that held a few candles.
“It'll be performed in the next room,” Azrael leant in and whispered in her ear, correctly guessing what she was thinking, as if he could read her mind. “There should be a door somewhere around here, and through that, there'll be an altar.”
“An altar?”
“Yes. It’s a very powerful place for witches and warlocks. It’s where their magic is the most powerful. Every witch or warlock will have one. The one we're about to go to is their most sacred,” he informed, still whispering.
“If you'd like to follow me, we can begin.”
Lilliah looked up, startled. She hadn’t even realised Megan was standing in front of the
m, smiling politely with her hands folded formally in front of her. Lilliah watched her turn and walk across the room to the far wall. Megan raised her hand and muttered a few words, and a large wooden door appeared.
Lilliah smiled. “Well, that’s pretty cool,” she said, leaning into Azrael.
“You’re impressed very easily. Are you ready?” Azrael asked, smiling down at her, his hands still gripping hers. Following all the hooded men and women, Azrael led her through the door and into the altar room. It looked more like a dungeon than a sacred altar, Lilliah decided, taking a good look around. The stone walls were high, leading up to a small window at the top that was the room’s only source of natural light, but it also gave a nice view of the coming sunrise.
“What do the symbols mean?” she asked, pointing to the markings that were carved into the walls, as well as to another large one on the floor. In the middle of that symbol sat a stone block. Well, I know where I'll be, she thought, looking at the uncomfortable piece of stone.
“They’re just magical symbols. That one,” he said, pointing to the symbol on the far wall, “means life. It’s very powerful, and it’s even on the Holy Grail.”
“That's amazing,” she whispered in wonder. “Wait, the Holy Grail actually exists?”
“I'll tell you everything about it when you’re finished, okay?”
She smiled, liking the way he was trying to take her mind off what she was about to do. This was the Azrael she needed.
“Promise?” she asked, looking up at him.
His blue eyes stared back at her. “I promise. Go on, I’ll be right here.”
Taking in a shaky breath, Lilliah let go of Azrael and walked over to Megan, who was patiently waiting for her. The others in the room were calmly waiting too.
“Okay, darling. If you just want to jump on here and lie back,” Megan instructed, helping Lilliah lift her legs so her whole body was on the rock.
The coldness of the stone sent shivers through her body. What have I got myself into? she thought, staring up at the ceiling and at the small window where oranges were mixing with yellows as the day began.
“I need to secure your arms and legs. You might thrash around, and it will keep you safe,” Megan informed Lilliah while already securing her wrists with rope that was attached to the stone beneath her.
She could almost feel the tension rolling off Azrael, and a quick look in his direction proved her right. He stood near the door they had just come through, his arms folded across his chest, and his unwavering eyes solely on her. She tried to smile reassuringly at him, to show that she was all right, but she wasn’t sure it came off that way. Instead of a nice smile, she almost whimpered when she saw him. She could see his whole body tense. It probably hadn’t made him feel better.
“When's Benedict coming in?” she asked, turning to Megan. She didn’t want to make Azrael more nervous than he already was.
“He'll be in shortly. He's preparing,” Megan answered, focusing on tying Lilliah’s feet.
“Okay,” she whispered, trying to relax by focusing on her breathing. In and out, in and out, she silently chanted. Everything is going to be fine. You asked for this, she reminded herself, twisting her bound arms. The rough material burned her skin. Azrael is here. He will keep you safe, she chanted silently, closing her eyes. He will step in if anything goes wrong. You’re safe.
“Are we ready?” Lilliah's head shot up as far as it could with the restraints, trying to see who the voice belonged to.
A woman stood in the doorway; a door that hadn’t been there just a moment ago. This must be Ada Washington, Lilliah realised, trying to get a better look. The woman stood in her cloak. It was different from the others. Hers was decorated with gold around the edges and the hood was down. She was beautiful in a very sophisticated way. Lilliah decided she liked the way the woman had neatly piled her hair on top of her head. It wasn’t how she had imagined her to look at all.
“Take your places,” Ada commanded, walking into the room, her head held high and her eyes focused.
A cloaked figure followed closely behind. Benedict, Lilliah guessed, smiling. She felt safer knowing he would be involved with the spell. She knew that he didn’t want to return to The Cure, and she knew the only reason he had gone back was for her, to help her with the spell. She smiled gratefully, knowing she wouldn’t have been able to go through with it unless he had been the one doing the spell.
All the caped men and women stepped forward, forming a circle around her, their heads still bent. Ada joined the circle last, her eyes on Lilliah.
“This is it,” she muttered, taking another deep breath. No going back now.
“From the sky above to the sands below,” Ada spoke clearly, her voice echoing in the silent room. “I ask the permission of the witches and warlocks who have come before us. Let me use the never-ending spirit, the ultimate power. I am your vessel.” All at once, every unlit candle in the room suddenly lit, giving the room a warm glow.
“Join hands.”
Lilliah watched everyone in the circle surrounding her hold out their hands. She turned to watch Ada; her head faced her, but her eyes were closed.
“Memory lost and memory bound. Now replace what is found. From the depths of the fires below, release what cannot show.” Ada's body started to shake. Lilliah watched, unable to tear her eyes away. “Fire, water, earth and air, come together and—” Ada stopped talking, her body trying to gasp for breath.
“Seek da doom la shing so ma. Lees mener ta lee uns seem.” Ada's body shook, and she spat the words, her voice sounding deeper than it had just a moment ago. A few heads in the circle looked up, but no one moved. Was this supposed to happen? Lilliah kept her eyes on Ada as her body stopped shaking and her eyes opened. They were black.
“Leave now.” The voice was loud and deep and definitely was not Ada's. “Leave.”
Lilliah stared into the black eyes, fear creeping down her spine.
“What's happening?” Lilliah asked, looking around at the cloaked men and women surrounding her. They all started chanting something she couldn’t fully hear and didn’t understand. At first, she felt a buzz in her toes, nothing more than uncomfortable. The feeling grew and grew, creeping up her body.
“Oooh,” she moaned, gritting her teeth and pulling on the restraints. The chanting got louder and louder. Ada was thrashing about, but not in the same way, and speaking in tongues.
Lilliah's body felt as if it were on fire, burning from the inside. “It hurts,” she whimpered, her body lifting from the stone. Floating in the air. The fire inside her rose until it reached her head, and it kept building and building. She didn’t want to scream. Clamping her mouth shut, she tried to focus on anything but the pain. The chanting got louder. She tried to focus on the words, tried to understand what they were saying, but it was no use. The burning continued to pulse through her body. She could feel little beads of sweat dripping down her face.
“It'll be over soon. It'll all be over soon.” She wasn’t sure whether she had said the words out loud. She didn’t care.
“Stop now or burn. Your souls will be damned to the fires of Hell!” Ada fell to her knees, the deep, menacing voice booming above the chanting, which didn’t stop.
“STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!” The voice shouted over and over, clear and defined. Ada shot back. Her face tilted to the ceiling, black smoke pouring out of her and filling the room. The burning inside Lilliah stopped. She lifted her head to stare around the room. The black smoke slowly disappeared. Was this it? Was it over? This isn’t half as bad as I imagined, Lilliah thought, relieved.
“No one move. It's not over.” Ada panted after the blackness had cleared. “Whatever you do, do not break the circle.” For a moment, no one moved or spoke, not really sure what to do next.
Lilliah looked at Azrael. He was still there, arms folded yet ready to pounce if he thought anything was going wrong.
“Lilliah,” a voiced hissed from the other side of the room. Her head s
hot in its direction, not sure who had said it.
“Who said my name?” she asked, not sure whether it was part of the spell.
“Your name? No one said your name, Lilliah. What did you hear?” Ada pressed urgently, still on her knees.
“Someone said my name,” Lilliah repeated.
“Lilliah,” the voiced hissed again, this time stronger and closer.
“It said it again.” She panicked, trying to pull her hands away. “What is it?”
“What can she hear?” Azrael demanded, stepping forward.
“Azrael, stay where you are. You cannot enter the circle!” Ada shouted, her eyes darting around the room.
Lilliah stayed focused on Azrael, not daring to look anywhere else. Did it go wrong? Is this supposed to happen?
It started with her hands, then her legs. Before she knew it, her whole body was violently shaking and she couldn’t stop it. She had no control of her own body.
“What's happening?” She could hear Azrael demand, but she couldn’t answer him. She couldn’t control her body as it thrashed, a fire burning in her stomach, ripping her from the inside.
“Lilliah.” The voiced laughed mockingly, sounding as if it were standing next to her, whispering in her ear. “You stepped into the depth. You won’t come out.”
She could feel its breath on her neck. There was something here. She wanted to scream for help, to tell them what she was hearing, but she couldn’t. It was impossible for her to speak. The pain was unbearable, as if someone were crushing her head with both hands, while at the same time reaching into her chest and holding her heart. She tried her hardest to keep looking at Azrael. There's someone here! she screamed in her head. Please help me! No matter how hard she tried, the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Nothing did.
“Something is wrong. Stop this, Ada!” she could hear Azrael shout. She could see him almost pleading with Ada, who was not standing up.
“No. This is okay. I think this is working. Please calm down.”
“You think! You think?” he roared. “I’ve warned you, Ada. If she is harmed in any way, I’ll kill you all. I'll . . .”
Ruined (The Seraphim Series Book 1) Page 24
