“My baby!” Mom rushed toward her, but Discord blocked her path.
“Do not touch her,” he said, “or the curse will jump to you.”
“I’m not letting her stay like this!” Mom shrieked, her voice cracking as she strained against Discord’s grip. “She’s my daughter! If the curse wants someone to burn, let it be me!”
“It doesn’t work that way, Scorsha.” Discord’s voice dropped an octave, vibrating with a frequency that finally made Mom go still. “The curse doesn’t want a host. It wants a conclusion. If you touch her, you won’t save her; you’ll just absorb the malice, creating two vessels instead of one.”
I stepped between them, my heart hammering against my ribs like the wings of a trapped bird. Ash looked…hollow. The color had receded from her skin, and the silence coming from her now was more terrifying than the screaming before.
“Discord.” My voice trembled. “You said you could save her. You promised.”
He looked from Ash to his brothers. Chaos was a wreck, his hands shaking, his gaze fixed on Ash with a level of agony that made my own chest ache. Mayhem stood back, his violet eyes flickering, his energy still humming with the need to destroy something.
“The counter-curse is based on pure demonic resonance.” Discord shifted his gaze toward the library door where Patrice stood, guarded by Shade and Miles. “But this curse wasn't just made of our magic. It was anchored by Isabel’s spite. It was forged in her blood.”
Chaos’s head snapped up. “Like for like.”
“Exactly.” Discord turned fully toward Patrice. She looked small, her face a mask of tear-streaked terror, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. Resignation.
“The frequency inside her,” he continued, his green eyes narrowing. “It’s the same key that locked the door. We’ve been trying to kick it down with brute force, and all we’re doing is crushing the person inside. We don't need a battering ram. We need the key.”
I looked at our healer cowering between my friends. I couldn’t fathom everything my sisters…this coven…had gone through in my absence. I didn’t yet know the extent of the damage she had caused, but I did know one thing.
She was the reason Chrys was dead. She’d given her the amulet. She was the reason their world had turned into a nightmare in my absence. But she was also the only one who could end it.
I walked toward her, and Shade and Miles stepped aside, their expressions grim.
She didn’t flinch as I approached. She just waited, unable to meet my gaze. “Blood magic is forbidden,” she said. “The Higher Power will condemn us all.”
It was a little late for that argument. Going to Hell, summoning demons, and binding your souls to theirs were at the top of the Higher Power’s “no can do” list. Adding a little more blood magic to the mix wouldn’t make a difference.
“You said you’d do anything.” My voice sounded cold. “You said you wanted to fix what your family started.”
“I do,” she whispered.
“Then we need to spill your blood.” I didn't sugarcoat it, didn’t lace it with magic. I shouldn’t need to persuade her to stop the vicious cycle her ancestor had set into motion. “Isabel used her blood to bind these men and curse my family for four hundred years. Now, you’re going to use yours to set us free. You owe us that much, Patrice. You owe it to Ash, to Ember, and to me. But mostly, you owe it to the people who didn’t make it.”
Patrice swallowed hard. She looked at the floor, at her bag Miles had set on the counter, and finally back at me. Resolve replaced the fear in her eyes as she straightened her spine and nodded. “Tell me what to do.”
“Bring her here,” Discord said.
I guided her to the center of the library, positioning her just outside the circle the three demons were forming around Ash.
“Join hands,” Discord told his brothers.
Mayhem and Chaos gripped Discord’s hands, and the air in the room thickened instantly. Heat radiated from their bodies, the sulfurous scent of hellfire permeating our senses as they began the ritual again.
“Patrice,” Discord said. “The blood must be fresh. It must be offered willingly.”
“How…” She cleared her throat. “How much do you need?”
“We will have to wait and see,” my demon said, and Ember handed her a dagger.
Patrice inhaled deeply, whispering a prayer before pressing the blade into her palm and slicing her skin. A thin, red line appeared, and she held her hand over my little sister, lying motionless on the floor.
“Now!” Discord said.
The demons began to chant, not the rhythmic Latin my sisters and I used, but a guttural, ancient sound that seemed to vibrate in my very marrow. Purple, green, and black energy erupted from them, swirling together into a vortex that centered on Ash.
