Agnes, Elissa, and Sybil had each brought one witch, women who were born with potential but lacking in magic because no god had given them that ability. His coven had taught them how to sacrifice, and in turn he had gifted the newcomers with a taste of power.
He didn’t care what their names were. He didn’t even look at their faces. All he knew was that the coven needed to be more powerful, and so he helped. He consumed their sacrifices and gifted them with token magic in return. A hedge witch, a spirit witch, even one who appeared to be just raw power, with no inclination toward a specific magic. All three women were now strong.
But the first of the coven were always strong. Those who joined later would be weaker than this first group of initiates, as his magic had to beshared among more and more witches. It was what inevitably drove them to sacrifice him, in the end. He didn’t tell them that, though. He just sat there on the couch with Jessamine beside him, his arm outstretched behind her in a show of what little ownership he could claim. She was, after all, his.
None of the other witches were, and he wanted them all to know that.
Shaking hands stayed on their laps. Elissa kept opening her mouth, then closing it. She clearly wanted to say something, but none of them wanted to be the first to speak. Even Hugo lingered behind his grandmother with a troubled expression on his face.
Finally, Elric couldn’t take it anymore. “We all know what we’re doing?”
Agnes’s head snapped up, looking at him in surprise. “Of course we know what we’re doing.”
“Then why don’t we all review our jobs one last time?”
The silence that stretched out among them was bittersweet. This was the last time they would all be together before the moment when they changed the world. And it seemed that they were all thinking the same thing this morning.
Agnes reached for Elissa’s hand. “Elissa and I will go with the newest witches to the central square. Together, we will conjure a spell to make it obvious that the coven has returned. No matter who tries to stop us, we will practice witchcraft in public. Real, meaningful witchcraft that will strike horror into the souls of those who see us. We will not stop until we see you again. Then you will join us, after proving that the Deathless One is who he says he is.”
He bared his teeth in a grin that was anything but happy. “For a price.”
“You’ve already promised me the Pleasure District, yes, but I will take more power before you and Jessamine move toward her stolen castle. Elissa would like her lover to be turned back into a human.” A disgruntled look marred her usually severe face. “You still claim that is impossible, so you have offered to give her the ability to speak as a person would.”
He nodded, then looked at Sybil.
His dark witch, the first of his coven and the only remaining legacy ofthe old days, smiled at him. “I will go with Jessamine to where we believe Lady Fortuna is now hiding. Together, we will get from her the information that we need.”
And then he looked at Alexander, the young man who had been shaking so badly when they released him from the prison that he looked like he might throw up. The pallor of his skin had yet to change. After all, he was as shocked by his role in all this as Elric.
“I will be going with you,” Alexander murmured, his voice low and reverent. “Together, we are the distraction.”
“Indeed we are.”
He glanced down at Jessamine, who had curled her hands into fists on her thighs. She was shaking, too, although he had a feeling it was from anger rather than fear.
“Are you sure this is the right time?” she murmured, looking up at him through those dark lashes. “You have never wanted people to know you have returned.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, my nightmare. It is time that everyone knows the gods have returned.”
“Gods?” she replied with a soft laugh. “Only one is here.”
“Ah, but I was lonely, and so I created myself a goddess to worship.” He tucked a finger underneath her chin and tilted her head up for his kiss. Elric lingered on the plush softness of her lips. He didn’t care if everyone watched them. Let them see. Let them watch as a god treated his queen the way she should always have been treated.
When he finally drew away, her lips were dark red, deeper than blood, and her eyes had a slightly glazed look in them.
“Listen for the words,” he said quietly. “You will hear them all bend a knee to the Deathless One who has returned. Then you will return to me, nightmare. My gravesinger. My soul.”
“Be safe,” she whispered.
And together, at the same time, they said, “I love you.”
The words were whispered like they wouldn’t ever see each other again. But how silly it was for him to fear that, because he knew he would.Death itself could not take Jessamine from him, no matter how many times it tried.
Pressing his lips to hers one more time in a fierce, hard kiss, he stood. He looked at everyone in the room again, imprinting their faces to his memory, even the new witches.
And then he bowed to them all. Low and deep, his hand tucked against the small of his back as he gave them all the greatest honor a god could bestow. “My coven,” he said, his voice deep as he straightened. “All your life you have been told you are weak, because the wild feminine in you seeks chaos. That order and reason are denied by your nature and that you should fear what lives inside you. But now you are witches. You should not fear yourself; it is they who should fear you. You need no longer fear the darkness, for a god has made it your home. Rage, and do not fear your own anger. Tear it all down!”
Alexander stood, and together, they left the room of women, who were already brimming with so much magic he could taste it in the air. They were going to make quite the scene.
