“Well, I doubt it,” she blurted out. “You’ve got decades of training, and I don’t even know what this is.”
“That’s fair, but you would not be using an exterior conduit for once. I could attempt to enthrall you, and you could use your arcana to defy the order.”
Amma’s instinct was to tell him no, that she wanted desperately to forget the talisman even existed because it meant there was still something horrible left undone that he hadn’t given up on.
But he was also right: she couldn’t use a door or a seed to withstand the order, it would all come from inside her, and she hadn’t considered that possibility yet. And if she could fight it off, then Archibald certainly could, and it would be useless.
Amma took a breath. “Okay.”
Damien nodded, brows knit, and he began fidgeting, awkwardness still peculiar on him. He was looking about, then eyed Kaz, “Go busy yourself with something.”
The imp grumbled but stalked off into the trees.
Hands on his hips, he took three long steps back from her, appraised the space between them, and then his face fell back into brutally-decisive-and-just-a-little-irked Damien. “Are you ready?”
Amma bit her lip but kept from shaking her head. Instead she closed her eyes, let her arms dangle at her sides freely, and insisted to herself that relaxation was possible. With a breath, she nodded. The first thought that swam into her emptying mind was,I should have asked what he’s going to make me do.
“Sanguinisui, come here.”
Amma snapped to attention, a jolt that shot down through her spine and took over the entirety of her body. When she opened her eyes just a moment later, she was standing right before him, vision level with his chest, and as the spell flooded out, leaving her sore and squirmy, she groaned, “Shit.”
Damien tried to stifle his laughter. “Apparently, you were not ready. Again?”
She shuddered, but this time did not close her eyes. Amma squeezed fists, tensed her muscles, and focused hard on not moving. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Sanguinisui, take my hand.”
With a wave of arcana that simply nudged her elbow, her fingers unfurled and were sliding over his outstretched palm before she could even think to hold still. There was the magic again, slimy and irritating, but it scrambled back out of her again when she had complied with his order. Amma clicked her tongue, pulling in her shoulders and scrunching up her face. “I can’t,” she groused, holding his hand up in front of his nose.
“Are you even trying?”
“Yes, of course!” She released him and crossed her arms. “I mean, it might make it easier if you order me to do something I don’t want to do.”
“Well…” Damien averted his eyes, and she was glad, realizing what she had admitted a moment too late, but then his jaw tightened, and he frowned. “Fine. Are you ready to try once more?”
Amma’s heartbeat quickened at how intent he’d gone. She took half a step back, planting her feet firmly in the soft earth, flexing her fingers as she uncrossed her arms. Her body still prickled with the magic, uneasy as it slithered beneath her skin. She nodded.
“Sanguinisui,” said Damien, “stab me in the chest.”
“Wha—” Amma’s voice was torn from her along with all of her breath as she moved lightning quick, hand falling to the dagger holstered on her thigh, fingers wrapping around the hilt, and brandishing the weapon like she’d never done before. Without abandon, she swung, a scream caught in her throat behind arcana that flowed through her as violently as she plunged the dagger forward.
No, stop, don’t!her own voice shrieked silently in her mind, the blade but a glint of silver through the air until it came to an abrupt halt, its tip just nicking the leathers across Damien’s chest. A tight hand was on her wrist, holding her at bay, but Amma was still pushing forward, feeling the urge to stab, to kill, in her body, but none of it in her mind or heart. Sweat broke out on her neck, a second burst of energy exploding through her as she tried to wrench her hand away from him and thrust back at a different angle, but he held her still.
Fight it, she said to herself, but there was no change, even as her entire body began to tremble, and she brought her free hand up to slam atop the other and drive the weapon into him.I don’t want to do this. I can’t.Tremors ran through her as she practically hung off the knife, digging feet into the ground and sliding, going nowhere.Oh, gods, make it stop.
“Damien,” she choked out, “please.”
“Sanguinisui, stop.”
Her silver dagger fell to the forest floor, disappearing into the ferns, and she collapsed, the world blurring behind tears that sprung painfully to her eyes. Damien caught her, hands under her elbows to hold her up, but it wasn’t enough. With her muscles so spent, her knees went out, and he staggered back into a tree, holding her right up against him as she began to truly weep.
“Amma, it’s all right,” he said urgently.
“No, it’s not!” Her voice was hoarse, burning her throat. She balled a weak fist and blindly struck his chest with no real force. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
“I-I won’t,” he stammered, squeezing her waist as she continued to sob.
Her head hung, pressing the top of it to the place she’d been trying to stab. She could hear her own voice, feel herself moving, but the surrendered sensation in her body wouldn’t abate. She hated it, fumbling to regain command of herself as she repeated increasingly senseless blubbering that devolved into pitiful begging. “Please, Damien, don’t.”
