Sett and his King (Demon Gods #3)

1. Drew

Drew

I popped the lid off and the sapphire liquid almost danced before my lips, its enchanting vapors that tasted bittersweet, an entrée to the main meal that followed when I tipped my head backwards and downed the contents of the vial.

The magic crawled under my skin like a layer of courage-turned-shield and I took a deep breath before stepping inside the old witch’s lair.

“Welcome, child!” she said, and upon seeing me paused.

“H-hi.” I hesitated but managed to wave at her in my nervousness. “I…I was told you could help me?”

She nodded and showed me to the center of the room where a fire pit burned bright. I sat in front of it and the heat turned into sweat on my skin, as if this were a trial.

Mother Red Cap walked around the pit, her eyes trained on me. She was infamous across London and beyond. Her underground workings had been the stuff of urban legend for hundreds of years. If there was a person who could find a solution to anyone’s problem, it was her.

After all, my friends had come to her for help too and they’d gotten more than they could have dreamed of. There was no reason why I couldn’t get what I needed.

“Hmmm…what is it you need, my child? Or shall I ask…who?”

I tried to catch her gaze, the piercing gaze I’d been told to watch out for but it didn’t scare me. She didn’t scare me. I had faced far more sinister eyes. She was an angel by comparison.

I crossed my hands, swallowed the frog that had formed in my throat and said the words I’d been dreading.

“I’m imprisoned by a god and I need another god’s help to save me.”

Mother Red stopped, drew her dark red hair to the sides of her face and smirked.

“And who is the god you’re in search of?”

“I was told you’d know,” I answered.

She shrugged. It seemed so unnatural for her to shrug. Not because she was old and frail. In fact she was anything but. She didn’t look her age. Maybe late forties? Fifties? But her eyes? Her eyes revealed the wisdom the rest of her appearance concealed.

“There’s only so much a witch can know. I may require some help.” She raised her hand and beckoned me closer.

As soon as I stood, she turned and walked away. I followed her through a dark tunnel into a LED lit room where rows after rows of drawers lined a wall.

It was just like I’d imagined. The buzzing silence of the room paired with the creeping cold made this moment so…charged. So petrifying.

I knew I had to do it, but a part of me wanted to turn and leave.

Leaving wasn’t an option. Not while he still had control over me.

I inhaled, the hint of a putrid smell hitting my gag reflex, and took a step forward.

“Are you after a Norse god perhaps?” She touched a silver drawer and I shook my head so she moved on to another drawer. “A Celt?”

I shook my head again and she walked along the morgue wall before passing several doors where unsuspecting dead bodies lay waiting for a fate unlike anything they’d ever anticipated.

“Oh, I know.” She lifted a finger in the air and stopped walking. “You’re after a king, aren’t you? An original king,” she said.

I bit my lip and with some hesitation, I nodded.

She pulled the handle of the drawer next to her and it slid open with a mechanic whirl until I had full view of a dark naked man covered in a sticky gold substance that looked a lot like honey and oil with a spark of magic.

Melichrisma. The anointing honey to preserve what’s dead.

I approached the man and a sparkle of magic emanating from the anointing potion tickled my fingers.

“Is…is this him?” I said and stared at the man’s face.

The dead man’s face.

He was so serene, so peaceful. With flawless sun-kissed skin and a five o’clock shadow to be envious of.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Mother Red Cap said as she grabbed my hand and sliced at my palm with a knife she’d produced out of nowhere.

I hissed and stepped back. She closed her eyes, muttered under her breath, raised the bloodied knife above the dead man’s chest and…

Stabbed him right in the heart, piercing the Melichrisma and his toughened skin.

At once, his eyes popped open and he took a deep, hoarse breath before he shot up and looked around in panic.

But then, his golden gaze met mine and everything went still. The room, his body, my heart.

All I could do was stare at the awakened king before me and marvel at his beauty as the anointing potion dissipated and left him just as human and exposed as the rest of us.

“Hi,” I whispered and took a step forward.

“Hello,” he answered.

And so it began.