And part moon priestess, a voice reminded her. The mother of the blood curse had been a powerful witch in her own right and one of the Goddess Mother’s own handmaidens. The demon had stolen Thaia from this world and condemned her progeny to a life of horror and pain, one shadowed by the darkness of his blood. Victoria remembered what Aliya had told her, that the Goddess Mother had deemed their child an abomination and had condemned her to death. Circe couldn’t bear the thought of killing her own granddaughter and had hidden her away from the Goddess Mother, trying—futilely—to bind the girl’s powers.
Leto had said he wanted to return to his demon dimension and take her with him. Victoria would die before she let that happen. But best of all, she vowed that she would use the very powers he had given her to destroy him.
“I know you’re down here,” she called out. “Show yourself.”
The faint echo of mocking laughter reached her as the passageway finally widened into a cavernous room. She stretched to full height, feeling the weight of fresh air on her face, and frowned. It wasn’t so musty anymore and she could feel dampness seeping from the crumbling walls around her. She’d lost her bearings with all the twists and turns of the underground tunnels, but at some point the ground had started to shift upward. Her gaze narrowed at a change in the light at the far end of the space. Was there an exit point leading outside? Into the forest, maybe?
But before she could reorient herself, something slid out of the murky shadows—the same half-cat, half-hulking creature that she’d seen.
“You bring me gifts,” demon Leto said in a conversational tone.
The shock of his guttural voice was like a physical blow. Leto had never spoken. His words had always been mental. She shook it off and focused her power to her core. She’d need every ounce of strength she had if she was going to best him. She eyed him, watching his form shifting into solid mass and then retreating into shadow. It made it hard to look at him—a monstrous amalgamation of the cat she knew and loved and a formidable demon that only cared for its own survival. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you,” he said. “I want to return to my home.”
“I won’t go with you.”
“You do not have a choice,” demon Leto growled. “If you stay here, the Vardlokkur will do what they have been tasked to do.”
Victoria frowned—she did not recognize the word. “The what?”
“What your people call warlocks.”
“The warlocks have been tasked to kill me?” She laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. “The warlocks are not out for the good of mankind, trust me. Gabriel was a warlock and he wanted the curse for his own gain.”
“There are always stray sheep to every flock.”
“The warlocks are evil.”
Demon Leto pinned her with an intelligent green gaze that made her think of her many debates with Leto the cat. “As are humans, vampires, witches. No one race is pure. They all bear the stain of the very first one to fall from the grace of the heavens.”
“They consort with demons,” she seethed, power racing along her limbs and crackling across her fingers. She sensed that he was toying with her.
“I’d hardly call summoning consorting. But yes, they will use their power over my race to bind your very real demon blood. And then they will kill you. We do not belong here. You do not belong here. That is their call to arms as the guardians to the portals between the dimensions, Tori.”
“Don’t call me that!” she snapped.
“As you wish, Victoria,” he mocked. Demon Leto shifted forward and she automatically tensed. “Regardless, your time here on this plane is over. You belong with me. So now that we are done with pleasantries, why don’t you give me what I want? Release the curse and free me from this prison of fur and bones. Do your duty, daughter.”
Her lips pulled back in a disgusted sneer. “I am no daughter of yours.”
“Shall we put that to the test?” He smiled and murmured two words. “Cruentus effero.”
She frowned at the summoning charm that had fallen from his lips and braced herself for a secondary attack, but none came. Instead, demon Leto stared steadily at her, and the minute her eyes locked with his, something started happening. Her blood pushed against the surface of her skin, shoving her toward him with mystical force. She fought it with everything she had, but the pull was inexorable. Inescapable.
She only came to a stop when she was directly in front of him. She would have preferred to be where she’d been standing before. Now, this close, she could see the green mottled color of the demon’s skin beneath Leto’s ragged fur and smell the cloying scent seeping from his pores. She was surprised. She’d expected something far more foul. Victoria peered at the demon—and was shocked to see that it looked vaguely human in features. The sight of the handsome, if stringent, male face made her blood crawl.
The demon lifted a scaly talon and dragged it down her cheek. Victoria didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that the touch had welled blood in its wake. “Even buried within the familiar’s consciousness, I watched all the others, you know,” he told her. “But none were like you. None had your courage. Your daring. Your fearlessness. Deep down, I knew you would be the one to liberate me.”
“But Gabriel—” she blurted out.
“It was easy to suggest the kind of spells needed to crack the Goddess Mother’s bindings to him.” At the look on her face, he shrugged. “Don’t feel sorry for him. Trust me, he enjoyed every second of inflicting such pain. Those spells were not for the faint of heart, and your friend was cut from a fetid cloth.” His grip slid to her shoulder. “Now, come, give me what you have. We have a long night ahead of us. It will be enough to break the last of the bonds, but I will be weak in my true form.”
“How many will have to die?” she asked in a weak voice.
“As many as it takes.”
Her stomach clenched. “Do you truly relish taking all those lives?”
“Relish? No. Require it? Yes. I require their souls to sustain my existence and my endurance.”
“Why don’t you just give up and die and be done with it?” she scoffed, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t lead to the loss of tens of thousands of innocent lives.
His breath feathered into her face, his claws digging into the soft flesh of her arm, the slight stinging tell her that he had drawn blood there, too. “Survival instinct? And to right the fact that I was wronged.”
“Wronged?”
“Thaia chose to stay with me.”
Her sneer was shaky this time. “You coerced her.”
“A powerful moon priestess?” he returned evenly. “She could have left in an instant. No, my child, she chose to stay.”
“With you?”
He stared at her, that gaze of his compelling and intense. “Some of us choose to love those that others deem to be monsters. You, after all, should know all about that.”
“Christian is nothing like you,” she whispered.
“Isn’t he?” he said as a scaled talon raked across the tender skin of her shoulder. “He takes life from others to live. People fear him. He, too, is trapped by his own immortality. I think we are more alike than you’d care to admit.”
The demon’s words made her blood boil. Or maybe he intended to incite her anger. She stared him down, refusing to even dignify what he’d said with a response. Christian didn’t murder innocents—he took blood judiciously if and when he needed it. Victoria frowned as something occurred to her. The demon had said that once he broke free of his corporeal bindings he would be weak. That would be her chance … her opportunity. She’d give him what he wanted for now, and when he was least expecting it, she would do what she was meant to do.
She would give him the liberty he craved.
TWENTY-THREE
Blood Witch
“Okay,” she agreed. “Take what power I have.”
Demon Leto smiled then, one that crept be
neath her bravado and slunk into her heart. She could see a reptilian sheen cast over his deceptively human face. Even in demon form, he bore an odd resemblance to her, and it made her stomach turn. The look in his eyes made her worried that she hadn’t thought of something. She knew that she’d be weak, too, once the transfer was complete, but she was hoping that Christian and the others would be waiting to take advantage of the windfall.
She pushed her energy out, reaching for him. Christian?
“He can’t hear you.”
“And you can?” she shot back, her gaze slanting to his.
“My blood tells me everything.” His words made her blood run cold as the demon looked up toward where the shadows started to merge into dimly lit speckled moonlight. “But your lover is close. Spoils for the taking once I am released. Now come, daughter. Let us begin.”
Demon Leto’s fingers closed around her throat, and Victoria felt her breath catch, a feeling of foreboding filling her. There was something she hadn’t thought of, only it kept eluding her. She blinked, forcing herself to remain calm. Christian had rallied everyone. They were ready. They had to be ready or all would be lost. Once demon Leto assumed his true form, he would consume the life of every creature within a certain radius. It wouldn’t matter—human or supernatural—it would be a purge that no one would see coming.
The demon drew her close. For once, her blood wasn’t surging within her like a wild wave, desperate to defend itself from harm. It no longer needed to protect her, not when it was being commanded by someone else. No, instead, it trilled with delight as if it, too, was finally going home. Victoria hauled a strangled breath into her lungs and swallowed her revulsion as the creature pulled her to him until they were nearly nose-to-nose.
Intense green eyes bored into hers, heat blooming across every inch of her skin as the magic coursed into a frenzy. Her breath slowed to shallow gasps as she felt the blood magic inside of her start to coalesce. It pushed to her center and then up her throat. It felt as if her very soul was being sucked through her body into her skull. And then the expulsion started.
Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. Victoria’s entire body convulsed, rocked by spasms that shook her from head to toe as every last ounce of her power was drained from her body into the demon standing before her. Disoriented, she slumped onto her heels, feeling as if her bones had been liquefied. Her entire body felt like it was made of nothing but air, and her mind became filled with imaginary bees. A dull, buzzing sound filled her head. It hurt to think … to even open her eyes, but she forced herself to focus on Leto.
Flashes of light burst from his body as he, too, staggered backward. Black bands of iridescent magic swirled around him, faster and faster, until it was blinding. The frenetic movements made her feel nauseated and bile pooled in her throat as she pushed herself to her knees, her body swaying unsteadily. No wonder he hadn’t been threatened when she’d given in so easily—she could barely think past the mush in her brain.
Suddenly, the cavern grew bright as if the sun itself had appeared between them. Only there was no sun—it was the sight of a curse being broken. Victoria shielded her eyes, feeling the burst of power hit her like a hot blast. The light winked into darkness, and when she blinked the stars from her vision, all she could see was a form huddled on the ground.
A man’s form … one bound to nothing.
Leto was gone.
She fought the urge to shudder, knowing that what lay there was the furthest thing from human, and wished that she had the strength to slip the dagger tucked into her boot into his black heart. But making wishes when you didn’t have any magic at your disposal was a useless prospect. Gritting her teeth and grasping the dagger in hand, she willed herself to crawl forward on her hands and knees. Dirt caked beneath her fingernails, but with each grunt, she inched closer. She could do it.
A foot away from his nude, shivering form, the man turned, and Victoria blanched. He had her face. She’d seen the resemblance before, but it was nothing compared to this. His dark hair was long and framed a heart-shaped face. Those green eyes, the mirror image of hers, held her captive.
Why didn’t he look like a demon?
Instead, he looked as if he could be her father. Her real father.
“No,” she hissed. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her fingers tightened on the dagger. It was now or never—he was weak and she’d never have another chance like this. His eyes flicked to the weapon in her hand and he smiled.
“Cruentus famulor,” his lips murmured, and Victoria felt her body jerk in response as every remaining drop of blood within her obeyed his command. Her hand holding the dagger trembled as it curved upward, moving toward her own torso. Victoria’s eyes widened at the path of the blade, but nothing she did could stall the movement. She was sure he was going to kill her, but a hair’s breadth from her chest it stopped.
“We are one now,” the man said. “And you are my instrument to control.”
Victoria hauled a breath into her aching chest, her gaze never sliding from the dagger’s tip at her breast. She pushed forward, a drop of blackly red blood smearing the front of her white bodice as she impaled herself on the unforgiving point of the blade. Pain flowered along her nerve endings, but with it came clarity. “There’s one thing you need to learn about me,” she said, “I am no one’s instrument.”
Something like anger flashed in the man’s eyes as he stood. She could see the shaking of his limbs even as he drew himself to his full height. He crooked his wrist and a black cloak appeared out of nowhere. He shrugged into it, a spasm of pain shimmering over his features. Victoria frowned. She needed help—she needed Brigid.
“Effero amulet,” she whispered, her tongue thick in her mouth. Nothing happened for an extended moment. Suffocating her fear, she repeated the command, her nails digging into her flesh, and after a second, something whizzed through the air. She caught the amulet in her fist and summoned the strength of her ancestor. “Evoco Brigid,” she screamed with everything she could muster. “I summon you.”
Brigid hadn’t failed her yet. Victoria knew that she wouldn’t now.
The crystal flared red in her palm as her fist closed around it. Energy stormed toward her as Brigid’s full power leapt from the jewel to her body. The crystal crumbled to dust in her hand as her starved body absorbed every last bit of magic Brigid had to offer. Thank you, she told her ancestor silently as she stared at the colorless fragments of the pendant.
The amulet was gone and this was her last stand.
Without hesitating, she flung a blast toward the man. It caught him square in the chest, pinning him against the wall. She strode up to him, dragging the dagger from her chest inch by painful inch. Her blood still obeyed him, but her mind was strong. Holding him in place with the force of her will, Victoria fought the blade, twisting it with brute force and pushing her palm against it until it bled. Finally, her hands slick with blood, it was pointed toward him.
“You will never control me,” she hissed and slammed the heel of her palm against the dagger’s hilt. It smashed into the rippling skin of his rib cage and met steel-like resistance before falling to the floor. He wasn’t human, she reminded herself. He may appear to be human, but even now she could see the greenish reptilian cast of his flesh and the imperceptible scales that only looked like skin.
Leto was a demon … and a powerful one.
His face registered no surprise at her failed attack, and to her surprise, Leto laughed. The sound was devoid of any humor. “I expected as much from you. I did not see the amulet coming, but believe me, I shall take great pleasure in consuming Brigid’s magic once you learn your place. I can taste it now, along with the pungent tang of your fear.” He closed his eyes and licked his lips.
“I am not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
Her lips curled back from her teeth. “Why? You are a demon, but I am the product of so much more than you alone. We both know why
you felt you had to poison me—it was you who was afraid of me. Just as you are now. The scent of your fear reeks to high heaven.”
“You confuse fear with respect.”
Victoria frowned at the tinge of pride in his voice and leaned close. “Neither of those sentiments will save you.”
“Show me.”
Maybe it was the condescending tilt of his words, or the apathetic look on his face, but Victoria had a sudden desire to inflict pain. She’d meant to kill him to rid the world of his scourge, but now she wanted to punish him. She wanted him to feel the panic she felt. She wanted him to fear her.
“Incendo maleficus,” she said, watching as a yellow-rimmed ball of fire formed between her fingers. It was a spell she’d learned from Gabriel, born of dark magic and evil intentions. She felt it was fitting for the occasion. “Demons deserve to die in hell,” she told him as she released the fire. Victoria didn’t wait to see the fire engulf him in flames—she shoved both hands forward and focused on magnifying the spell so that the fire fountained from top to bottom in the cave.
She was so intent on burning him to ashes that she didn’t realize that her own skin started to blister and peel in sheets from her exposed limbs. She screamed as the cut of a thousand blades whittled across her skin, but when she looked down, she saw nothing. There was no fire touching her. It was at the far end of the cavern, obscuring Leto from view. She frowned and released the spell.
Leto stood there—singed but alive. And watching her, a calculating smirk on his lips.
Victoria stared down at her arms, watching the bubbled and roasted skin there. Impossible.
“Curo,” she said. Her skin healed and flattened, the redness disappearing. She didn’t want to look up to confirm what she already knew, but she had to. Her eyes slid to the man and her breath caught in her throat. He, too, had healed.
“No,” she whispered, eyes going wide.
“Yes,” he said. “I told you that we are one. You cannot hurt me with magic, no matter how much you want to.”
Bloodcraft Page 27
