Demon Curse

by Linsey Hall

  I should have tried to make it work with Declan—whatever it was. A relationship? Just getting to know him?

  Hell, anything.

  I shook him again, tears prickling my eyes.

  His chest moved on a breath, and my shoulders sagged.

  Thank fates.

  The guards had been able to see him—how big and strong he was—so no doubt they’d dosed him with extra knock-out juice. And whatever it was made of, it was strong.

  Heart thundering, I reached into the ether and withdrew the potion bag that I’d stashed there. I sorted through it, finally finding an energy potion.

  This had better work.

  I pinched his jaw and dragged it open, then poured the liquid down his throat. He swallowed and sputtered, finally sitting up.

  I threw my arms around him. “Thank fates you’re all right.”

  He coughed and pulled back, searching my face. “Are you okay? You looked devastated.”

  I wiped a few tears from my face and ignored the question. “How are you?”

  “Alive.” He rubbed his forehead, clearly trying to remember. “We were caught?”

  “Yeah. The prisoners started a ruckus and the guards found us. Hit us with all they had, too.”

  He dragged his hand down his face. “Clearly.”

  Confident that he was all right, I turned from him, inspecting the room. It was a small box of a space—ten feet by ten feet—with no window and just a metal door.

  “They’re taking no chances with us,” I said.

  “You’d think they’d ask why we’re here.”

  “I tried to tell them we just wanted info.” I shrugged. “Then they slammed me with the knock-out juice.”

  “They’ll come back to interrogate us.”

  I swallowed hard. I probably wouldn’t enjoy interrogation. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

  I stood, grabbing my potion bag, and went to the door. Carefully, I inspected it. The big lock was a sturdy mechanism. I patted my pockets, unsurprised to find them empty. They’d taken the keys I’d stolen from the guard.

  I raised my bag of potions, grinning. They hadn’t thought to check the ether.

  “Have you got something in there to get us out of here?” Declan asked, his voice low.

  “I should.” I rummaged around in the bag and pulled out a cobalt blue bottle of potion. “This will melt just about anything.”

  Declan eyed the lock, then drew his sword from the ether and spoke, his voice barely audible. “There will be a guard on the other side. I’d bet my best whiskey on it.”

  I nodded and uncapped the little bottle, then dripped it onto the lock. My breath caught in my throat as I watched. Waited.

  Come on.

  I poured some more, trying to splash it into the lock. The metal began to fizz, the potion eating away at it.

  “It’s working,” Declan murmured as the metal was destroyed.

  I stepped back, drawing my mace from the ether. Whatever was on the other side, I wanted to be ready.

  Finally, the lock disappeared. The door swung open, dragged by its own weight.

  Declan lunged out into the hall.

  I followed.

  There was one guard, a burly man who stood next to the door. He jumped when Declan appeared next to him, but moved too slow. Declan had his arm around the guard’s throat in a flash. He pulled tight, cutting off the guard’s air until he passed out.

  “No point in killing him,” he said, stashing his sword in the ether. “Stand guard.”

  I did as he asked, turning to inspect the hall as Declan bound the guard in his own cuffs and gagged him.

  The hall was empty save for our cell—clearly a holding area for dangerous, unknown prisoners.

  They hadn’t realized how dangerous we really were, thank fates.

  Declan dragged the body into the cell, then returned.

  I met his gaze. “We still have no idea where Cell Block Z is.”

  Wally appeared at my feet, the shadow sprite at his side. Both of the small, smoky figures looked up at me.

  “Great timing.” I grinned at Wally. “Can you ask your friend where Cell Block Z is?”

  Wally looked at the shadow sprite, who seemed to vibrate with nervous energy. He bounced on skinny legs, barely reaching my knees.

  After a while, Wally looked back at me. Follow us.

  I shot Declan a grin. He nodded back.

  Wally set off down the hall, following the shadow sprite. The little figure floated more than he walked, and he moved quickly. I had to trot to keep up.

  Wally turned back to look at me. We’re taking the back way.

  “Perfect.” I looked at Declan and translated, since he couldn’t hear Wally.

  The shadow sprite led us through narrow corridors that seemed to be built into the walls, almost. At points, I had to turn sideways to fit through, and Declan got stuck a couple times.

  Finally, we reached a hallway that was lit only by a couple of old light bulbs that flickered weakly, revealing an ancient hall lined with empty cells.

  “This is it.” I didn’t ask it as a question. It was too obvious.

  This was the oldest part of the prison, no longer in use. There wasn’t any electric light, and some of the cells were missing their doors.

  Even better, the dampening spell that had repressed my magic in the active part of the prison wasn’t working here. I could feel the power flowing through my veins again, thank fates. Not just the nullifying power, but all of my magic.

  “We’re looking for the cell of Acius the fallen angel.”

  The shadow sprite turned and walked down the hall. We followed. With every footstep, my heartbeat ratcheted up.

  This was it.

  This was where we would find our answers.

  The spirit led us into a dark little cell, and I shined my light on the interior.

  There was nothing.

  Not even scratches on the wall to count down the days.

  What the hell?

  “There’s nothing here.” My devastation sounded in my voice.

  “We don’t know that yet.” Declan went to the walls and began to search, feeling around each stone block.

  Wally helped, sniffing at the corners of the room. The sprite just stood there, seeming frightened.

  I blinked at him. He’d been anxious before, but now he was downright scared. Why? We were just in an empty cell. This should be the least dangerous place.

  I knelt to look at him, realizing that it felt colder near the ground. Ghost cold, almost. There was a sparkling energy, too. Not quite malevolent, but definitely unpleasant.

  Was there something here, after all? Something we couldn’t see?

  I closed my eyes and tried to get a feel for it. What was it?

  I couldn’t figure it out, so I looked at Wally. “Can you ask your friend if there are ghosts here? Or spirits of some kind?”

  Wally turned to look at me, his red eyes blazing, then strolled toward the sprite. The two communicated, silent as usual, while I waited, drumming my fingertips on the ground.

  Declan kept searching the stone walls.

  Finally, Wally looked at me. There is a ghost here. A woman.

  “Can he speak to her?”

  There was a moment while they conferred, then Wally looked at me and shook his head.

  “Does she know about Acius?”

  After a moment, Wally spoke. She was here the same time as him.

  That was it, then. She was our clue.

  Except, we couldn’t speak to her. Unless…

  I looked at Declan. “You’re an angel. Can you speak to the dead?”

  He turned from where he was poking into a hole in the wall and met my gaze. “Unfortunately, no. Not on earth, at least.”

  Shit.

  I sat back on my butt.

  How the hell did anyone survive in this awful place?

  They went crazy. It was the only explanation. If Acius hadn’t been crazy before he�
�d gotten here—which, who was I kidding, he’d probably been crazy—he was nuts by the time he left.

  The cold seeped into me, along with the feeling of being watched.

  The ghost.

  I needed to talk to her.

  She was our only clue. My only way to figure out where Mari was.

  Talking to ghosts wasn’t a skill I currently had, but I could have it. If I wanted it badly enough.

  Quickly, I sliced my thumbnail across my finger. A spark of pain was followed by a drop of blood. I used my dragon magic, envisioning myself contacting the ghost.

  At first, there was nothing.

  I closed my eyes and tried harder, calling upon the magic in my soul to create a new power. At least temporarily. I just needed to speak to her for a moment.

  I could feel the magical energy in the air increase. It felt as if there was another presence here.

  Yes!

  I was getting close. I could almost feel her. The chill of her presence on the left side of the room. She was watching me.

  I opened my eyes, looking for her.

  There was no one there.

  But I could feel her.

  I tried harder, pulling on all of the magic in my soul. Though I could feel the ghost’s presence still, it wasn’t enough to actually summon her. To talk to her.

  My shoulders sagged.

  Shit.

  I’d been afraid of this.

  I wasn’t using enough blood. With my Dragon Blood ability to create magical skills, more blood equaled stronger magic.

  Contacting this ghost required more powerful magic, which required more blood.

  The downside, though…

  It could make this skill permanent. Yet another permanent magic, changing my signature forever.

  It was a risk.

  I drew in a shuddery breath. There was only one thing I could do.

  Open my veins and create new magic.

  13

  I raised my gaze to Declan.

  I didn’t want to do this in front of him, but there was no choice. It was the only way to get the information I needed to save Mari.

  And I’d do anything for her.

  I’d already decided to try to trust him. What was the point of my epiphany back in that cell if I couldn’t trust him with this? It was part of me.

  “I’m going to create new magic,” I said. “We need to talk to this ghost, and it’s the only way.”

  “Permanent magic?”

  “Yes. I’ve tried to create temporary magic.” I held up my bleeding finger. “It wasn’t enough. Ghosts are tricky. They straddle the line between life and death, and I need more power to contact her.”

  “It would be enough power that the magic could become permanent, then?”

  “Yes.” That was what changed my magical signature, what made it more obvious to the world that I was changed. Different. Dangerous.

  Would this be the time that I made too much magic? Would it increase my magical signature to the point that I couldn’t hide it anymore?

  Fates, I hoped not.

  “Considering that the alternative is you dying from the curse or us never finding your sister, I’d say it’s worth the risk.”

  I nodded, glad that he’d agreed so easily. That he acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. I didn’t want to do this, but if I had to, I appreciated the support.

  Carefully, I shifted into position, kneeling on the hard stone ground. I sliced my sharp thumbnail across both of my arms. Pain shot through me as blood pooled on my skin.

  I tilted my arms to the ground so it could pour onto the stone.

  It hurt, but fear didn’t fill me. Not like it had when I’d done this last week.

  It almost felt like the process was getting easier.

  That alone should make me nervous, but I was so full of worry for Mari that there was no room left in me for other concerns.

  I looked away from Declan as my head began to grow woozy. My blood flowed out of me, weakening me with every second that passed. Once enough had spilled onto the stone, I pushed out my magic as well, giving everything I had.

  As I worked, I envisioned exactly what I wanted: to be able to see this ghost and speak to her. To ask her where Acius was.

  I swayed where I sat. Declan came to his knees next to me, and I could feel his concerned gaze on my face. It warmed me, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the magic that I wanted to create.

  My desire to speak to the ghost roared through me.

  I have to do this.

  I have to finish.

  “Isn’t this enough?” Declan asked.

  “No.” Blackness started to steal in at the corners of my vision.

  Creating new magic required sacrifice. In my case, I had to almost die. Maybe one day, while trying this, I actually would die.

  My breathing grew shallow as I worked, draining my blood onto the stones and forcing my magic out with it. My heartbeat raced and my skin chilled. Wally joined me, brushing his smoky fur against my side, giving me some of his strength. It wasn’t enough to keep me going, though. But then, that was the point. I was about to collapse when the magic in the air changed.

  Finally.

  It sparked with energy, swirling and bright, then flowed back into me, surging into my soul and lighting me up from within.

  I gasped and straightened, power rushing through me. My eyes popped open as my veins filled with fresh blood. Strength rushed into my muscles, making me feel like I could pick up a truck.

  I sucked in a breath and focused on the new magic that I’d created. It felt chilly inside of me—a bit like the ghost.

  I leaned back, away from the puddle of my blood, and looked around the room.

  “You can show yourself,” I said.

  There was nothing there.

  So I called upon my new power, drawing out the cold magic and letting it fill the air. Like a welcoming committee for the one I wanted to speak to.

  “Are you all right?” Declan asked. Gently, he gripped my arm, and I looked at him.

  “I’m fine. Really.” I turned back to the other side of the room, to where I thought the ghost stood. “Come out. We just have some questions.”

  Magic fizzed in the air, as if she had heard me and responded. Wally and the shadow sprite watched anxiously, interest gleaming in their eyes.

  I poured more of my new magic into the room, determined to talk to this damned ghost. After what I’d just done, there was no way I was walking out of here without the info we’d come for.

  Finally, the ghost appeared.

  She was a tall woman, skinny and hard-looking. Her dress was ragged and her hair dirty. The look in her dark eyes was slightly crazed, and now that I could see her, I could also feel her signature.

  Yuck.

  She smelled of a dumpster and felt like slime.

  This woman was evil.

  And maybe crazy.

  Her dark eyes flicked down to the white blood on the floor. “What are you? What did you do?”

  Her words were slightly garbled, but I could understand her.

  “I created new magic.”

  She gasped. “Not possible.”

  Her words still sounded a bit strange, and I realized that she was probably speaking another language. But I could still understand her. My ghost power, translating perhaps?

  I shrugged and turned on my iciest voice. “I’m powerful, what can I say?”

  She cooed her interest and drifted forward. “Impressive.”

  Okay, good. I had some cred with the crazy, evil ghost. Probably because she thought Dragon Bloods were evil. Some of us were, especially those who’d been driven mad by power.

  “Why are you here?” she asked. She chilled the air around me, and I shivered.

  “We’re looking for Acius.”

  Her eyes took on a dreamy cast. Yep, she definitely recognized him. And if I wasn’t wrong, she totally had the hots for him, too.

  Ew.

  I co
uld dive right into questions about him, but I didn’t want to scare her off. Just because I had the ability to talk to her didn’t mean that I could force her to talk.

  “Who are you?” I asked. “You don’t look like the type to be in a prison like this.”

  She kind of did, actually. But people loved to prove other people wrong.

  “Oh, but appearances are deceiving.” She cackled, the sound icing the blood in my veins. Her ragged hair quivered around her head, and her eyes took on an intense light. “I’m responsible for the genocide of 1252. In Wallachia.”

  I searched my mind for a memory of it, but came up with nothing. Either way, genocide was enough for anyone to end up in this place.

  Clearly, she was proud of her accomplishments.

  I swallowed the bile in my throat and tried to sound impressed. “Well done. That was quite the spectacle.”

  Her eyes brightened. “You’ve heard of it?”

  I nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve admired your work for a long time.”

  She leaned forward. “What was your favorite part?”

  Ah, shit. I’d gone too far.

  The heads. Wally’s voice drifted to me. The ghost didn’t startle or look toward him, so I assumed she couldn’t hear him. Say, “The heads.”

  “The heads.” I nodded like I was really into what I was saying. “Definitely the heads. Really…cool.”

  Cool? Probably the wrong word, but this was freaking tough.

  “I know, they were wonderful.” She looked into the distance, a dreamy expression on her face.

  All right, this woman was a nut. An evil nut.

  “And you met Acius here,” I said, trying to push her into talking more now that she was in a good mood.

  “Oh, I did.” She leaned back against the wall, as if we were about to have a gab session. Her form drifted slightly through the stone, but she stopped herself from disappearing. “I was already here. He arrived shortly after. He’d broken ties with the High Court of the Angels in the worst way possible.” She giggled and met my eyes. “He killed twelve other angels!”

  Shit. He was strong, if he could do that. And evil, considering the angels were a tight bunch, from what I’d heard.

  “Wow, so impressive.” I tried to make my voice sound awed and didn’t look at Declan. This was fucked up, but she clearly liked the guy so much she’d talk about his accomplishments all day long.