She’d completely forgotten about the possibility of having an altered form until this moment, but when she felt the dark energy bubbling up inside of her, she recognized it immediately. And she realized she had felt it before in the past, but just as Murmur had said, she had unconsciously repressed it, believing she was keeping her emotions in check.
She didn’t repress it this time.
Sharp black claws grew from her fingertips. Her canine teeth lengthened into deadly points. Her eyes washed over with pure black. And while she stayed the same size, her skin took on a faint purplish hue. The increased strength she’d had her entire life augmented until it felt like she could snap bones with her bare hands.
Any other time, her mind would have been blown. But right now, all she could think about was using her newfound weapons—claws and teeth and strength—to rip Murmur’s heart out. Just as he’d done to her.
She’d trusted him. She’d let herself soften toward him. She’d been vulnerable with him, in a way she’d never been with anyone before. And now this.
“You fuckingbastard,” she snarled. “You backstabbing piece of shit. You fuckingliar!” Her nostrils flared, her chest heaved, and her demonic eyes were black pits of rage. Her reflection in the mirror looked crazed—an apt description, because she fucking was.
This wasn’t just a betrayal. Murmur hadn’t just lied or cheated.
This was a literal knife in the back. Because he was going to fuckingkillher.
She hadn’t been stupid enough to believe he was some reformed “good” demon just because they’d bonded, but she’d thought they had an understanding. They’d had sex multiple times, and she’d thought he cared for her in whatever twisted way he was capable of. She’d thought they had a bond.
Wrong.Wrong, wrong, wrong.
She seethed. The anger felt like pure fire running through her veins. The betrayal burned like acid in her stomach.
She needed to find a way to deactivate that fucking mark immediately. If she’d thought it would work, she would’ve used her newly formed claws to gouge it off right then and there. But she didn’t understand how the spell functioned enough to risk it. And knowing what she did about black magic, she had a terrible suspicion that once the mark had been on her skin for several hours, the damage had been done.
She ran to pick her phone up off the floor. With shaking hands, she fumbled to reply to Moira’s email, her claws scratching at the screen.
Once the mark has been applied, is there a way for the sacrifice to deactivate it?
Back in her bedroom, she donned her shirt and sweater and then she sat on the bed, trying to figure out what the fuck to do. She tried to drag her hands through her hair only for her claws to get caught in the tangles. There wasn’t time to waste, but she needed to know what to do to save herself first. If there was anything.
Moira’s reply was swift.
No, not from the sacrifice’s end. That’s what makes it so deadly.
The only way to deactivate it is if the caster interrupts a line of her seal. Or, if the death mark is never activated, the sacrifice’s mark will heal, and the magic will fade with it.
Hope that helps and good luck. :)
Suyin leapt off the bed. Maybe there was hope after all. She’d lasted this long. If she could just find a way to stop Murmur from activating the mark, she’d be golden.
She had two options: She could begin a period of diligent study or even ask Iris’s boyfriend and his brothers for help in trapping Murmur. But that would require trusting a bunch of unknown demons, and it would take time she didn’t have. It had been hours since Murmur had put the mark on her. She didn’t know why he hadn’t activated it yet, but she figured she didn’t have long.
Which left her second option: go to Hell, find him, and stab him until he bled out.
Was it stupid? Reckless? Probably. If he was willing to kill her, he truly felt nothing for her, which meant he’d be ruthless if he caught her. On top of that, the odds of him having left the hellgate in his library open were low.
She probably wouldn’t even be able to get there, but it wasworth a shot. Considering her options were do or die, she was inclined to take risks.
Mind made up, she hurried into her living room, which was still taken over by her expired paranoia wards. She grabbed the mop from the kitchen and washed a clean spot on the floor. Then she called up an old text saved on her computer for reference, grabbed some chalk, and began inscribing a hellgate sigil.
With a bit of walking around, she could have found the empty apartment Murmur had used, but again, that would take time she didn’t have.
As a blood-born witch, she was naturally able to travel through gates, while witch practitioners had to consume demon blood first. That had led to the age-old rumor that blood-born witches were descended from demons, something Suyin had always scoffed at.
She wasn’t laughing now.
According to her father’s research, blood-born witches were the descendants of Cambions, so they did indeed have demon blood in their veins. Which was why they could use hellgates. Go figure.
When the gate was finished, Suyin activated it, visualizing the gate she wanted to connect hers to and hoping like hell Murmur had left it open. Then she ran back into her room, dug out one of her ritual daggers from her closet, and strapped on the worn leather sheath. The blade was far sharper than anything in her kitchen.
