Page 89 of The Little Shop of Curiosities, The Music Box Part 2

Demonfire.

Olivia gives an almost negligent gesture, and a ring of green flames suddenly encircles the demon. He opens his mouth and howls in rage, trying to step forward, but he can’t seem to cross the circle of fire.

She is beyond impressive. I watch, absolutely fascinated, as her magic radiates from her. Her eyes glow gold and her hair whips back from her face as if caught in an unseen wind. She raises her hands and pulls her fists apart, causing a bow of sapphire-coloured flames edged in black to burst to life in her grip. Notched in the flaming bow is an arrow of pure black.

Ishaan struggles against the demonfire that has him trapped. Unable to escape and clearly realising the power of the woman before him, his eyes widen in panic. “Please, don’t send me back.”

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “But you don’t belong here, and Shiva’s sentence stands.”

She releases the arrow and it hits him dead centre in his chest. He opens his mouth to scream, but it’s filled with flames. I watch as his entire body is engulfed in fire, and then he’s pulled downwards, disappearing through the floor, still clawing uselessly to stop his momentum. But it’s too late.

Olivia whispers something under her breath that I can’t hear and it’s over. The demon is gone, the hole in the floor closed. For a second, no one moves or speaks, frozen in shock.

“Where did you send him?” Tristan whispers.

“Naraka.” Olivia sighs. “I don’t like to interfere with Shiva’s choices, and Ishaan didn’t belong here. I can’t have demons roaming the mortal world.”

“Is Naraka really eternal torment?”

“There’s always a path to redemption.” Olivia shrugs. “But in my experience, demons generally don’t want to be redeemed. The longing for chaos and destruction is too deeply ingrained in their nature. But…who knows? There are no absolutes and the world is a strange place.”

I shift and groan at the throb of pain in my side.

“A little help here,” Sam says. “Harrison needs medical attention.”

21

“Okay, let’s see what we have here,” Olivia says matter-of-factly, moving Sam’s hand away from where he’s still applying pressure to my wound. She glances at the now closed demon trap. “I’m guessing whoever gave you this was related somehow?”

“What makes you say that?” I hiss as she prods the deep tear in my skin.

“A centuries old demon trap suddenly springs open, and you’re the only one around here bleeding all over the floor?” She raises a brow. “Call it a hunch.”

“Cousin.” I grit my teeth as she lays her palm over the uncovered wound.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes sympathetic and her tone sincere.

I wince in pain. “Several times removed. Didn’t know him.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Never met him before he decided to stick a knife in my ribs.”

Olivia gives a small smile. “You’re lucky your cousin has shitty aim.”

“Not sure it was luck.” Even though words are still a struggle, my pain is lessening, which makes me wonder what this woman is doing. “I’m pretty sure he was planning on taking his time carving me up after he got his pet demon under control.”

Sam hisses. “He’s lucky he ended up in that fiery pit or I’d be carving chunks out of him with his own knife.”

“Easy there, tiger.” Olivia huffs. “Trust me, whatever is happening to him down there is way, way worse than anything you could do.”

“That does make me feel marginally better,” Sam grumbles. I try to reach for him, but my limbs still feel a bit numb. “Shouldn’t we be taking Harrison to a hospital? And not being funny, but I don’t think you should be touching an open wound with your bare hand.”

She snorts in amusement. “Harrison, is it?” I nod. “I’m gonna need you to hold still and try to relax. The more relaxed you are, the quicker the magic will work, okay?”

I nod again. She takes a breath and her eyes glow. A warmth begins to spread through my body, centred around the wound and my stomach.

“Huh, he did make a bit of a mess. What did he use? A steak knife?” Olivia looks down at my stomach as she continues to press her warm palm to the wound. “While everything is knitting back together, why don’t you tell me how you ended up getting stabbed, and why your blood is tied to a demon trap.”

I draw in a tired breath. “Both me and Issac were descended from a family named Crawshanks. I don’t know where they originated from, but they lived in India for a while during the height of the British colonial empire before coming to London and settling in this property. There were three siblings. A boy by the name of Cornelius who was a very famous—or rather, infamous—Victorian medium, and his two older sisters. Cordelia, the eldest, who was a witch, and Constance, the middle sibling. She was very powerful too, from what I understand, but very kind and quiet. The eldest daughter, Issac’s ancestor, had stolen a book of magic.”

“A book?” Olivia’s brow piqued in interest. “What kind of book?”