I snag a thin but sharp bone fragment from the side of my cell and hurry over to the corner of my cage where two lines of demon symbols meet, the corner closest to the dais. Jamie’s chanting changes slightly, and excitement enters her tone, and I look up to see her placing the blade of her knife against the skin of Elon’s arm.
Shit, she’s moving too fast. I need to slow her down. I rack my brain for what to do or say, and it hits me.
I start laughing loud and hard like I’ve completely lost it. My glee is beyond overexaggerated, but I need to get the nutcase’s attention. I hold my side as though I have a stitch in it from whatever it is that I find so amusing. And when I look over, relief slams into me when I find Jamie’s eye on me. I shutter my emotions, refusing to allow the relief to leak through and continue to cackle like a deranged hyena.
“You are so stupid,” I announce loudly, pointing at Jamie and laughing. “I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to figure it out, but you just never did,” I taunt, giggling so hard that the sound of it annoys even me.
“Do you really think the Order was just going to let me be taken?” I declare as I put my hands behind me and discreetly cut into my forearm with the piece of sharp bone. Heat pools along the cut, but I run the shard of bone over it again and again to ensure it’s deep enough.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she demands impatiently.
“You didn’t think they’d have a backup, a way to find me just in case you had any more traps hidden around?” I ask her, with a raised eyebrow and a judgmental snicker. “Nice note by the way, the Order techs were very impressed with that piece of magic,” I offer, hoping a little flattery will keep her listening and the blade of her knife away from Elon.
“They’re coming, Jamie,” I warn her, offering my own unhinged smile as I feel blood start to drip steadily from my fingers. I begin to pace the line of demon symbols that have me trapped, doing what I can to make it look like a slow contemplative prowl and hiding the fact that I’m spilling blood on the line as I go.
“You’re only going to get time to take the magic from one of us,” I tell her confidently. “And then the Order is going to be here to try and stop you. You really want to waste your time on Elon?”
She glares at me, clearly not buying it, so I tsk at her and shake my head.
“You’re running out of time, Jamie, and you don’t even know it. I’m offering you a trade. Put Elon back and take me. It’s the only way you’re going to stand a fighting chance against what’s coming,” I tell her, and I hope with everything I have left she believes me.
Her demon marks are lit up just like they always are when she uses their magic, but the rest of her looks ashen, like she could crumble to nothing if the wind pushed too hard.
“You’re lying,” she counters, and I laugh in response.
Of course I am, but as much as she wants to believethat, I see a speck of doubt in her eye. There’s abut what ifdebate happening in her demented mind, and I hope against hope that she might actually listen to me.
Elon is panting on the altar, his eyes trained on the knife in Jamie’s hand. “Lennox, don’t,” he growls out, wincing as Jamie presses the knife into him harder.
“You don’t care if I survive the Order,” she snarls, the wheels in her head turning slowly and finally arriving at this conclusion as proof of my deception.
“No, I don’t, I hope they find a way to flay your very soul and make you suffer for eternity,” I admit, vitriol spilling out of every syllable. “But I do care about Elon. This is about helping him. I will sacrifice myself and give you my magic if you will let me trade places with him right now. But the Orderiscoming either way, so now you have to decide which is more important: the power you say you want or torturing an innocent witch because you don’t like his mom.”
Her demon marks flare with my words, and her grip tightens around the handle of the knife. She studies me for a second and then another, as though my words are sluggishly sinking into her and fucking with all of her plans.
“Tick tock,” I mock as I make another pass with my bleeding arm inside the black demon marks etched all around me.
“You’re just trying to save him,” she accuses, her gaze suspicious but hesitant.
“Of course I am, you stupid bitch, that doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth though,” I snap at her. “You want to risk it?” I challenge. “Are you going to miss your opportunity to kill the source?”
Her nostrils flare with anger, but thankfully the knife doesn’t move any closer to Elon.
“If I’m lying, you kill me and then you kill him,” I tell her with a casual shrug, “but if I’m not, they’ll stop you, and I’ll watch them gut you while the demons you owe rip your soul apart,” I tell her, annoyed that she’s still debating this. My logic is fucking sound, butthismental case isn’t. I don’t know if she’s going to fall for it.
My foot catches on the edge of an uneven stone, and I stumble, my arms shooting out to catch me at the threat that I might fall down. I recover quickly, but Jamie’s eye drops from my confident stare down to the blood spilling off my arm. She moves away from Elon, taking a step toward me, her features pinched with mistrust and anger.
“What are you doing?” she growls, her gaze shifting from my arm to the now bloody symbols on the ground.
“Coming for you,” I growl right back, and I don’t miss the fear that flashes across her face before fury takes over.
The doors to the church slam shut with a resounding boom as though she’s magically barricading us in here. I know right away that I’ve lost her, and she shoots me a glare and then moves back toward the altar.
“I’m going to rip your soul out of you myself!” I bellow at her as she once again presses the knife against Elon’s skin.
She starts to chant, and Elon screams in pain as she slashes the knife down his arm. I’m lost to the desperate fire growing in my body, Elon’s cries spurring me on. I call on my magic, begging for answers. My blood decorates the inner line of demon symbols, seeping into the grooves and bends like my essence is reclaiming them in a way. I stare at the marks intensely like they’re a puzzle I know I can solve if I just find the right angle, and that’s when words pop into my mind unbidden. I start weaving them together, spelling and chanting, empowering the words with my magic and will and then feeding it into the blood. The marks respond to my use of magic, but it’s not at the same level of pain as when I tap into my natural Osteomancer abilities. I pick up the pace, weaving and chanting even faster. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, but I put my faith in my magical instincts, trusting the blood magic just as I’ve always trusted the bone magic.
Elon screams and begs for Jamie to stop, just as the symbols all around me start to steam and hiss in reaction to what I’m doing as my blood works to take over. I shove more magic into everything, ignoring the pain as Elon’s forlorn cries push me to press even harder and work faster. My words and spell weaving would give the best auctioneer a run for his money, and I feel a strange climax starting to build in the magic itself.
