Xander furrowed his brows at her, Striga’s words only adding to his concern for her. Striga rarely spoke of Lilith’s hold over his mind, nor the terrible things he had done whilst under her control, and to do so the night before his wedding made him wary.
He often wondered if his brothers or other Daemons felt Lilith’s presence the way he did, if she had targeted their minds like she had his. All original Daemons had been under Lilith’s control at some point or another, and they had all broken free in their own ways. Xander had helped his brothers learn to shield their minds, Thomas had trained the Lupi to overcome the power of the full moon, and Striga and Divina had forsaken their chance of immortality. Of course, he had experienced frenzies without Lilith’s input, but he didn’t know of anyone else falling completely under her control ever since they had freed themselves. Lilith reserved that terrible privilege just for him.
Xander knew he could be ruthless during his frenzies, but when Lilith took control, the damage he left behind was always far deadlier.
“Striga, what are you—?”
“It is late,” she interrupted. She let go of his hand and looked around, her gaze drifting across the lake, the gardens, and her home, before giving him a sad smile. “Goodnight, my friend.”
She walked past him without a second glance and made her way to the house. Xander stood in silence, unsure what to make of their conversation. He had always found Striga odd at the best of times, but the sense of uneasiness settled in his stomach as he watched the old woman hobble inside her home set him on edge. Something was wrong, and Striga didn’t want to tell him.
Xander wanted to follow her, but he knew not to press. Striga had always kept secrets, even from her own family, and he knew she would only speak of them when she believed the time was right. And so, he continued his walk home around the icy lake in the darkness.
Striga
Striga slowly made her way up the stairs, the floorboards moaning under her steps. She had climbed those same stairs for over sixty years. She knew every creak and groan of the wood, she knew where the shadows fell and where the light spilled in from the moonlit windows. She had made this house her home shortly after the Courts were formed, a place they could finally settle with their family.
But on this longest night of the year, on this dreaded night, the house felt different. It was eerily quiet, the silence deafening and the cold seeping into her bones. She could hear her fragile heartbeat in her ears, like a dull drumbeat echoing through the sleeping house.
She paused at the top of the landing and looked over the balcony. The house was dark and still, except for the soft snores of the staff in the servant quarters attached to the kitchen. Sebastian often sent them home to their families overnight, but with the early morning start to prepare for the wedding tomorrow, they had opted to sleep in the house.
Striga loved this home, she loved the memories she had made with her husband, her daughter, her granddaughter, and her Adria. She peered into Adriana’s room, smiling as she watched her great-granddaughter twirling round in her wedding dress in front of a mirror, her brow creased with concentration as she tried to lace the corset.
It took everything in her not to gather Adriana in her arms and whisk her away, to protect her from the horrors of the world thatwere sure to come. But she shut her door quietly, locking it from the outside, before making her way to her own chambers.
She kept her coat wrapped around her as she slowly perched on the edge of her bed, sighing at the relief to be off her feet. The moon was full and bright, its light shining directly through her window and showering her in its glow. She could feel its power, feel her own power calling to it, and she could feel her Thomas.
It was a beautiful night, a night she was happy to be her last.
Divina had told her of many predictions, and whilst no prediction was certain, for those visions could change with a simple shift in decision from any person, this one she knew to be true. She only prayed that after she was gone, the chaos caused by her death would not be as her sister had warned. But if that fate were to come true, she could play no part in it, not anymore. They had known all along that one day she would vacate her seat for the next Luciferus, and now that time had come.
She did not fear death, and had never felt haunted by it. Death was inevitable, for everyone, and so she saw no reason to run from it.
But Striga could feel the exact moment the darkness shifted, and it was not the darkness of death that greeted her. She did not flinch when she felt the temperature drop even lower, did not even bother looking over as the shadows formed in the corner of her room. She would not be afraid, she would not give him that satisfaction.
“Good evening, sister.”
She finally turned to Caligo as he stepped through his shadows from the Intermundum and into the Land of the Living, the stain of his unwelcome presence rotting the very floorboards he stood upon. His black eyes were fixed on her, his shadows swarming, his power so strong that she could feel it vibrate through the air. She knew he wanted to scare her, he wanted to see the fear in her eyes before he stole everything from her.
“Hello, brother.”
“You have been expecting me?” he asked, a sickening smile stretching across his pale face. “Ah, Divina. Of course, she had warned you. No matter. You and I both know you are no match for me, Striga. Not anymore.”
“I know,” Striga sighed as she hauled herself to her feet once again, standing to face him. “What could an old woman possibly do against a creature like you? A creature who feeds on the chaos of the world, a creature who feeds fromher.”
“You forget you were once one of her creatures, before you chose to throw it all away. And for what? For that dog?” Caligo laughed at her, his thin lips peeling back from his stained teeth. “Where is your mutt now, Striga?”
Striga tilted her chin, looking down her nose at him. She would not be mocked, she would not be intimidated by Lilith’s scum.
“I chose love. I chose family and friendship, all things you will never experience, Caligo. And I feel sorry for you. I pity that you will never understand those things in this life, just as you never understood them in whatever life came before.”
His shadows flared around him, slowly crawling across the floor towards Striga, as his eyes began to glow a deep red. He’d clearly had enough toying with her. He had been sent to collect, and now he would follow through with his orders.
“I think that is enough, sister. Your time is up.”
Caligo raised a hand towards her, his red eyes glowing in the darkness as his Succuba power reached out. Striga could feel it grip her—deep in her chest. She could feel a cold hand wrap around her soul and twist it in the most painful grip, attempting to wrench it away along with her power.
She held onto her light as best she could, she desperately tried to keep it within her, but she knew she was no match for him. She was old and weak and frail, she had slowly lost her strength as she had aged. But she had known this day was coming, shehad known Caligo would come for her, to take the power of the last of the Three Sisters for his own. He would return that power to Lilith to allow her magic to grow, to provide her with the ability to walk the Land of the Living freely.
