It takes a while for the haziness blurring my vision to dissipate, but I try to fixate on the power source. The blob turns into a middle-aged woman, who, aside from clearly being a dark witch, looks pretty unremarkable: ratty brown hair, checkered slacks, and thick-rimmed glasses. Heck, she could pass as your neighborhood librarian if it weren’t for the black vines shifting beneath her skin. She’s leaning casually on the wall opposite the one I’m being immobilized on by her magic. Veronica lies unconscious in the center of the basement, over the death blanket, a pool of fresh blood beneath her. At least her chest is still moving.
The dark witch smirks before whistling, as if calling a dog. The Lamia glares at her through slitted eyes, then reluctantly trudges to kneel at her feet. “Do you like my pet?”
I can’t believe I haven’t noticed until now the thick leather strap decorated with engravings and sigils adorning the Lamia’s neck. It is said that the Lamia was once a beautiful woman.However, the fact that she couldn’t bring children into the world drove her mad, and she started snatching babies out of their cribs, consuming their flesh so she could feel the life of a child in her womb. She once stole a powerful witch’s baby. Some Order historians say it was Hecate herself who cast a horrible curse upon the woman, transforming her into a four-legged beastly creature—that looks like a cross between a Komodo dragon and a furless bear—before banishing her to Hell for all eternity. No one has seen the Lamia above ground in a hundred years or more.
This witch collared an ancient demon and made it her lapdog. I can only imagine the Lamia is not too happy about that. Its nostrils flare as the witch pats its scaly head before saying: “Good pet. You can go eat now.” It lets out a disgruntled huff but listens to the command, crawling to the scattered human remains and diving right in.
Trying my best to ignore the horriblechomp, chomp, chomp,of razor-sharp teeth gnawing on little bones, I snap, “Why are you doing this?”
The witch tilts her head. “You don’t know by now? You’ve got Hell in a tizzy. The bounty on you keeps growing by the day. And everyone wants to cash in.” She has a lazy gait as she strolls toward me, stopping near Veronica. “With Black watching you like a dragon would its most prized possession, I had to get smart about it. Illusions are my specialty. And you fell right into my trap. I created the little ghost girl especially for you. I even tricked the two wolf shifters he has following your every move. Now that your boyfriend is out of town, I had to shoot my shot.”
The unexpected mention of Kaiden’s name is a punch straight to the gut.
He’s still watching over me.
She flicks her hand, and like a log, I drop to the floor on my side. The impact knocks the air out of my lungs. Copper coats mytongue yet again while the white and red dots from earlier make a reappearance. As if I’m merely a puppet on the witch’s strings, my body bends until my feet and hands are brought together. At the snap of her fingers, rope materializes out of thin air, binding my limbs in a hogtie. The magic releases me, but there’s no way I can reach any of the weapons strapped to my body.
“Was killing all those innocent kids necessary?” I grit out as I start working on the rope. It’s tight as fuck. But I only need a little give.
She hikes a nonchalant shoulder. “Well, you can’t summon a demon just like that. You need sacrifices. And nothing is purer than a child’s soul. Besides, my pet had to eat.”
“What’s the demon’s name? Who put the bounty on me?”
She waves a hand in the air, but this time, it’s to push the remains on the cement floor to the side. The Lamia growls because the move interfered with its feeding. It crawls close to me and resumes the sickening, grating sounds that make my stomach lurch in my throat.
“Ah, I’m in a good mood, so I’ll indulge you with an answer. No one knows. It’s a big secret. But there are rumors that the demon is powerful. Some say it’s a king of Hell. I just have the spell I need to perform so one of his cronies can come collect.”
Shit. I always imagined the demon who put the bounty on me to be powerful, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it might be a king of Hell. But which one of the nine is it? And most importantly, what would he need me alive for?
The witch strides to the stairs to pick up a copper bowl that looks ancient before ambling back to where she cleared the floor. She turns her back to me while crouching to trace a circle with blood-soaked fingers. I really do not want to think about where the blood came from.
If she completes that circle, I’m fucked.
I swing my limbs and slam my left hand to the floor. Threeof my fingers snap. I swallow the whimper, fighting to get free. Thankfully, the cracks were muffled by the Lamia’s chomping.
I’m so close to freeing my hands, now that I’m no longer hindered by the bone structure of my fingers, but the witch has finished the circle.Dammit. She stands to appraise it briefly. After a content nod, she strides to Veronica and bends to place the copper bowl she’s holding on the floor.
Veronica is still out of it until her eyes fly open when the witch grabs her by the hair to angle her head backward. “No hard feelings, but I need to make a call,” she tells Veronica as she snatches one of her daggers before pressing the blade to her throat.
Fuck. They’re too far away, and I still haven’t untied my legs. On instinct, I grab one of the daggers strapped to my belt. I have to make a split decision: send the dagger flying at the witch’s head or release her beast. Because there’s a chance the witch could stop the dagger in mid-air, I lurch my body to where the Lamia is still eating. With a clean swipe, I slice through the spelled collar. The demon roars. It launches like a feral rocket before barreling into the witch’s body.
That allows me enough time to unbind my ankles. A bit clumsily, I jump to stand. The sudden move makes me dizzy, and my limbs are full of pins and needles as the blood starts circulating again, but I regain my balance. I cast a look at the opposite side of the basement, where the Lamia is unloading all of its pent-up rage on the witch.
I can’t say I’m too sad about it. Actually, I’m pissed I didn’t get to kill her myself. I wanted my pound of flesh for what she had done to the poor children. But unleashing a demon on her seems much more poetic. And efficient.
“You missed all the fun,” I tell Veronica, who’s on all fours, heaving her stomach contents on the blood-soaked floor. I can’t tell if it’s because of a concussion or the gory scene unfoldingbefore us. Probably a bit of both. She’s been out of it a long time, and the back of her head is caked with blood. “I had to break some of my fingers on my left hand to get free. It’s useless now. I’m gonna need your help. You up to it?”
Veronica heaves one last time before pushing to stand. She wipes at her mouth and lets out a, “Mhm.” However, right away, she sways as if she’s on a boat navigating treacherous waters.
“You sure?”
“Do it already before I pass out,” she fires back, tone full of venom.
“’Kay, then take out your sword.” I uncoil my whip in a swift motion. I circle it a few times above my head before flicking my wrist. It slices through the air toward the Lamia. The moment it snares around its neck, I use my core muscles to pull the demon toward us. It thrashes and claws at the whip to no avail as I drag it across the floor. “Now!”
Veronica’s sword slashes through the Lamia’s neck. A spray of ichor follows as the decapitated head smacks the floor with a wetthwack. Veronica doesn’t dodge in time. I snort-laugh at the way her full face of makeup gets showered in it. Been there, done that. I can only hope a little got in her mouth, too.
What? I saved her life. I’ve earned the right to be a petty bitch.
