“You all chose to become the very thing they’d accused you of,” I said, but there was no judgment in the words. I understood the choice they’d made, because how could I not? To be condemned for something everyone involved knew wasn’t true was a frustration that none deserved, false allegations that would change the course of history forever.
“We were dying either way. What difference did it make? So when Lucifer asked me what kind of magic I would like to possess, I knew I wanted nothing more than to take all the jealousy and desire that had condemned me to my cell and make it my power. I wanted to take what they had made into a weakness, what they’d turned into something abhorrent, my beauty, and make themkneelbefore it. That is what the darkest part of being a Red witch is all about. Finding power in desire.”
Everything in me stilled, her words loosening something in my mind. They were an echo of my mother’s—of what the binding ritual had done to my magic when it separated me from the Source. “The darkest part?” I asked, trying to feign casualness. I didn’t want to raise any flags about what she might reveal out of fear that she would stop sharing her story, that she would stop teaching me the lore that I’d never be able to get from history books and a corrupt lineage.
“Yes,” she said, her smile twisting in a way that came off self-deprecating. “It was not my finest moment, though I like to believe it was understandable under the circumstances.”
She didn’t offer any further information, and my curiosity got the best of me as I pivoted my body in the chair suddenly, spinning to meet her stare head-on and foregoing the mirror entirely. “But what you’re talking about islust,” I argued, surprising even myself as I reached out and took her hand in mine. Touching another Red always brought a small measure of comfort, because I could not easily manipulate them to my will.
Touching another Red didn’t come with the same consequences as touching all others.
“What else would I be talking about?” she asked, her smile faltering as she stared down at me with such confusion. I couldn’t ignore the missing pieces, the implications in her story and her statement about our magic.
“But lust is theonlymagic we have. You said it is the darkest part of it, and that implies that there is something light in us,” I said, my desperation clear. Her brow furrowed as she studied me, stroking her thumb over the back of my hand.
“Magic is neither good nor evil. It simply exists within all of us, but it is balanced. Every darkness has a light,” she said, using her hold on my hand to tug me toward the window overlooking the gardens. Couples lingered in the shadow of the trees and flowers, stealing moments of intimacy. She pointed to one couple in particular, a brunette woman leaning against a tree while a blond woman cupped her cheek, leaning in close enough to touch their foreheads together. The moment was so reminiscent of the one I’d shared with Beelzebub in the sanctuary before entering the Second Circle that my breath caught. “When you look at them, what do you see?” she asked, turning her attention from the couple to watch me as I studied them.
“I see lust,” I said, my eyes falling to the place where the blonde trailed her fingers up the slit in the thigh of the brunette’s dress.
“That is no mere lust,” Amelia said with a soft chuckle. “Look deeper. Feel what they feel.”
I raised my hand to the glass of the window, pressing mypalm against it. I reached out with trembling fingers, sending my magic coursing through the pane and into the gardens so that I could feel their connection. It was different than what I’d come to know of lust, warmer somehow.
Like the comfort of a fire in the hearth during winter. It was not the hot, balmy passion of sweat-slicked bodies, but something stronger that tickled at my senses.
“What is it?” I asked, flinching back from Amelia’s shocked gasp.
“It islove,Margot. That is our light. That is the true purpose of the magic of the Reds, not the lust we use against our enemies, but the love we can use to make the world a better place. Happy people who are in love with both themselves and their life partner do not feel the need to harm others. Love can inspire great change,” Amelia answered, and my gaze dropped to where she ran her fingers over my wrists. The skin shifted as she pressed her magic into it, the indentations of rope revealing themselves to her.
My binding.
“Do all in the Coven bear these marks?” she asked, her jaw clenching as she guided me back to the chair and set me in front of the mirror once again.
“I don’t think so. Only the Tribunal heirs,” I said, considering what my mother had revealed in our brief conversation before everything went to shit.
“I am not familiar with the magic of bindings, but I do know that only the person who bound you can unknot your magic—”
“And if he’s dead?” I asked, suddenly horrified by the implication of what that binding meant. I’d never been in love, never felt an inkling of that heavy emotion or even recognized it in others. Had Itan taken that from me, too?
“Then it would take something very powerful to snap those bonds,” she said sadly, hanging her head forward for a moment as she fiddled with my hair once again.
I swallowed, picking at my fingernails as my gaze dropped to them. I felt my face twist, trying to find the words to communicatehow her story and revelations had left me feeling. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Because I see a little of myself in you, Margot. You’re afraid of what you are, and until the day comes when you learn to love yourself, you’ll never be able to come into the power that those bonds took from you. I can feel your magic simmering away inside of you. It’s trapped there and it is going to overwhelm you. You’re a ticking time bomb, and it will eventually explode if you don’t embrace it and release it regularly,” she said, stepping around the chair. “I understand that it is more complicated than it should be with you cut off from the Source, and the lighter side of the magic that would have offered some balance to all that darkness, but that understanding will not change your fate.” She set to doing my makeup, continuing on through the process of preparing me to join the festivities downstairs even though I wanted nothing more than to stay locked within this room.
“You don’t understand. I can’t stand being touched—”
“There are ways around that. Your own pleasure is a release, and it does not matter if it comes at your own hand if that is what you choose.” I protested, and she held up a hand to silence me before she continued on. Pleasure was not something I had any interest in for myself, refraining from it entirely for fear of what would happen to me once I opened that door. “You can plant visions of pleasure into the minds of others while barely touching them if that is easier for you. If you feed their release, it will release some magic for you as well. But be mindful here, Asmodeus’s magic has a numbing effect on us. It can strip away our inhibitions and make us far more susceptible to the pull of lust. For what it’s worth, it may be worth taking advantage of that numbness for a night.”
“Okay,” I murmured, stilling when she returned with a red gloss to paint my lips.
“Either way, Asmodeus will not allow you to pass through to the Third Circle without givingsomethingto the magic. I suspect Beelzebub is attempting to convince him as we speak, but Asmodeuswill not be swayed to go against the rules. He never is,” she said, taking my hands and guiding me to stand.
I nodded my understanding, trying to think of what I could do that wouldn’t require what I could not give. What I could give oflustwithout spiraling into a tunnel of grief and trauma.
“Now,” Amelia said, stepping back to grab a deep red dress off a hanger in the closet. She carried it over, and I quirked a brow. “Let’s get you dressed.”
I nodded, stepping behind the privacy partition in the corner of the room before I stripped off the clothes that Beelzebub had given me in Purgatory. “I don’t have any other undergarments,” I said, shucking everything into a pile I stacked neatly at the side of the partition.
