Tomin locked eyes on me; the emotion within them screamed of unspoken years. For a split second he looked almost ancient. “You know nothing of the hierarchy of demons, Hector Briar. But we do. I do. Minor demons may be destroyed by simple means, so simple that some burn with the use of salt or iron shavings. But princes—Lords of the Pit—such as Bahmet… well, they are harder. Much,much, trickier to destroy. Usually, their demise can be brought on by a demon higherorequal on the hierarchy of power. But Bahmet used his deal with Eleanor to eradicate any threat to his life. For years I have believed there was no demonic power to rival that of Bahmet, untilyou.”
The car came to a stop so suddenly that the lack of a seat belt sent me jolting forwards. It was Tomin’s strong hand that stopped me from hurting myself, but it was the look of ‘I’ve got you’ in his stare that had me acting out.
“Well, this has just been aball. Thanks for the information. I’m sure it will come in handy,” I said, mind whirling with demons and hierarchies. It was harder to picture the symbol I required, but as I fixed it in my mind, I knew my eyes were glowing silver.
“Are you sure you want to try this?” Tomin said, not an ounce of fear painted across his face. “Lash out against me and doom your brothers and sisters.”
Grasping for the air in the car, I focused on that which lingered inside of Tomin’s lungs. I wrapped invisible hands and squeezed, drawing out his breath into a globe of the element between us. It whirled and thrashed as more of the air drained until there was nothing left in his body to sustain him.
His eyes bulged, the vessels popping through his body as they were suffocated of the substance they required. Tomin’s mouth split wide open, spittle linking his lips as he choked on nothing but his impending death.
“Fuck you, Tomin. Really, fuck you to hell, you nasty, malicious bastard!”
With every second of his death, I gave in to my own darkness. This was all I had ever wanted, years of searching and fighting for the moment to destroy the man who had killed my parents. Although it was Arwyn who picked up the athame and completed the task, it was Tomin who gave that command. Perhaps I should’ve asked him why he did it. Why make his child partake in such evil? Maybe there were more answers to questions I hadn’t thought of yet. But my desire to make him suffer was too sweet of a fruit to pass.
I climbed onto Tomin’s lap, legs straddling him as my fingers wove around the threads of his final breath and removed it. Sweat beaded down my temples, soaking into the heavy neckline of my knitted jumper. In the reflections of his bloodshot eyes, I smiled at myself, imagining that the joy of his death would soon reveal itself.
But as the seconds passed, nothing came. No swell of elation, no sharp spike of serotonin that I’d won, and he would never hurt another person again.
Panting, my magic evading me, I just sat there and stared down at his limp and lifeless body. “Come on,” I hissed to myself, fists balled and tears filling my eyes. “Come on.”
Nothing happened. I was numb to the core, completely empty of celebration. And in a strange sense, I felt that it was actually Tomin who had won instead of me.
The car door was flung open behind me. Many harsh hands grasped at me, dragging me out of the car. I had no fight left to give, no strength as the door was slammed closed, and Tomin’s body was shut from view.
“Restrain him,” a high-pitched voice rose from beyond the fray.
The lilt of the voice was familiar, and yet I couldn’t place the speaker.
What followed were my hands being tied behind my back, bolted in place with metal. A sharp prick pained the side of my neck. In the reflection of the blacked-out window, I could practically see the needle injecting thistlebane into my bloodstream.
My lasting hope of getting out of here was in the hands of Romy, Kai and Emon.
They had access to my blood, courtesy of the wound I’d commanded Emon to give me on my wrist. My allies had the means to scry and find me. It shouldn’t take them long to findme and get me out. Perhaps they were already here, lurking in Emon’s shadows, waiting for the moment to strike.
What mattered was I’d just cut the head of the beast off. Tomin was dead. And why did I feel so fucking empty?
“You know where to take him for the meantime,” the woman said again, and for a moment I got a glance of aged lines, a mass of curly brown and grey-streaked hair before I was hoisted from the floor.
Through tear-stained eyes, I looked over the Witch Hunters who had hold of me. No one regarded me with the disdain expected for the person who’d just severed the head of the metaphorical snake that ruled them.
That was when I heard it, the click of a door opening. I snapped my gaze back to the car and watched as Father Tomin clambered out of the back seats, skin flushed with life, eyes full of colour and a smile—winning and proud—cut across his devilish face.
“Nice try, Hector. Commendable.”
He stood tall beyond the car, clicking his neck from side to side before loosing a heavy breath as he regarded me.
“H—how?” I stammered as they dragged me away.
Tomin simply winked, not an ounce of suffering lasting on his entire person. And with that, he swept past me, a million questions thrumming through my head, and left me to the uncaring hands of my captors.
14
ARWYN
Iremembered the first time I killed my father like it was yesterday.
The memory haunted me, stinging the core of my soul even with the hate that had built between us over the years. You’d think I would’ve enjoyed taking a knife to his neck and drawing the blade across soft skin, or holding his head beneath the water until the final bubbles of air from his lungs rose to the surface.
