Chapter 10
TEN
JARETH
Getting to the underworld isn’t pleasant.
It’s not hell in the Christian sense, but most of the popular imagery is based on it.
But even if there’s no literal devil or mass torture scenes, it’s still not a place most people would want to go for a day trip.
At least from what Roman has told me. I’ve been perfectly happy never having seen it personally, but something’s wrong, I can feel it, and I don’t have time to wait around and weigh my options.
I double check my notes and verify that I have everything I need for the spell.
Chalk? Check. Obsidian? Check. Black candle?
Check. And finally, my pocketknife. Check.
I read the incantation a few times out loud so I can get used to the shape of each word on my tongue.
It’s a demonic dialect, so it’s far from natural on my human tongue, but I had Roman repeat it for me several times so I could write it out phonetically.
I bring the candle close to my face, close my eyes to draw my magic from my core, and blow gently.
The wick sparks and the flame flickers and dances as I carefully set the candle back down directly in front of me, exactly six inches away.
Next, I need the chalk. I pushed my kitchen table aside to make space on the floor for this ritual, and I have just enough room to draw the elaborate circle around myself, with runes and demonic symbols spaced around the edges, and precise lines that radiate from where I sit in the center outward to each symbol.
I set the chalk down and pick up the last two items, the obsidian and my knife.
Demons and their blood magic. You’d think every once in a while they’d mix it up and require a more fun bodily fluid, but no, it’s always blood.
I sigh and drag the knife quickly along the middle of my palm, over an old scar I’ve reopened so many times I’ve lost count.
As soon as the blood wells up along the edges of the cut, I stuff my knife back into my pocket and wrap my hand tightly around the obsidian, letting my blood soak the smooth surface of the stone, focusing on the way my magic mingles with the earth energy of the volcanic rock.
When I start to feel the energy pulsing, I set the stone down on the floor, between myself and the flickering candle, and then I repeat the chant again, with purpose this time.
My magic courses through me and the air starts to swirl, ruffling my hair.
I keep chanting and the room vanishes around me.
There’s no floor under my knees to support me, no gray almost-morning light streaming in through the windows, no comforting smell of lavender.
There’s nothing. I try to drag in a breath, but there’s no air either.
Oh no.
Oh fuck.
Did I do the ritual wrong? Am I going to die here, trapped between dimensions, gasping for breath?
Just as quickly as it all disappeared, the world re-forms around me.
Instead of my cozy cottage, I fall forward and my hands hit coarse, barren dirt.
I gulp down air that tastes like sulfur and smoke, then I slowly lift my head to see where I landed.
I should have asked Roman exactly where this spell would drop me off, but he might not have known anyway.
He’s got that fancy quick travel power thanks to the demon he sold himself to, so it’s not like he’s ever had to rely on a spell like this before.
I’m in front of a large, ominous building that’s made of gray stone and devoid of any windows.
I brush my hands off on my pants and slowly get to my feet, right as two demons come rushing out.
One of them is black and red with cute little goat horns and matching hooves, and the other one is much larger, with blue skin, bulging muscles, and half a dozen horn nubs on top of his head.
“Stop right there,” one of them shouts.
“This is private property,” the other adds helpfully.
“Oh good, a welcome wagon,” I mutter under my breath, holding my hands up in surrender.
It’s a silly, human behavior now that I think about it.
If they can tell that I’m a mage, which I’m sure they can from the scent of my magic, then having my hands up won’t reassure them at all.
My hands are, after all, the most powerful weapon I have.
I have no idea if the energy here is anything like I’m used to, but these demons don’t look all that friendly and they aren’t slowing down, so I take a chance.
The blue demon lunges for me and I throw up a shield between us, knocking him back a few steps.
The black and red one hesitates for a fraction of a second, eyeing his comrade and likely weighing up whether he’d rather test his luck or have to explain to his boss why he didn’t.
His boss is obviously scarier than I am, because he throws himself at me, claws out and sharp teeth on display. I knock him back with ease too.
Damn, the underworld energy packs a punch. I might have to take a couple of baggies of dirt and some rocks back topside with me.
“I’m sorry for trespassing, but I’m looking for someone. It’s urgent,” I explain.
“Oh, it’s urgent. Why didn’t you just say? Of course, your majesty, right this way.” The blue demon sneers at me, and the other one laughs.
“Right, that’s Master Auri’s rule: No unauthorized visitors to the compound, unless it’s urgent,” the black and red one mocks.
“Auri? Did you say Auri?” I know that name, Roman has said it a thousand times.
“That’s right.” Bluey postures a bit, puffing up his chest. Clearly, he’s proud to be working for Auri, but I don’t really have the time to wonder about demon power structures and social hierarchies.
“Perfect. Take me to him. He’ll get Roman for me.” I wave for them to go ahead and lead the way, but their expressions change in an instant from sneering to surprised.
“You’re looking for Roman?” the red one asks.
“How do you know Roman?” The blue one chimes in before I can answer the first question.
“Yes, we’re old friends. Please, I need to talk to him right away. He’s the one who told me how to get here, he just didn’t mention that the spell would drop me outside and I’d have to talk to you ass—er, lovely demons.”
They both eye me skeptically for a minute and then turn their backs to me to have a not-at-all private conversation.
“It makes sense. How else would he have materialized right on the doorstep?” Red says.
“He’s powerful,” Blue argues. “He threw up shields against us; he could have done some of that mage voodoo to break the protective spells around the compound.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not not powerful, but they’re definitely overestimating me to save their own egos.
“You think it’s a trick?” Red asks.
Blue shrugs. “Could be.”
They both look over their shoulders at me, and I give a little wave to let them know I can still hear them.
“Why don’t one of you go get Roman? He’ll be able to vouch for me.”
They put their heads back together and actually drop their voices to whispers this time so I can’t quite make out the words, but it sounds like they’re arguing. Finally, the red one huffs and marches back towards the main door.
“Is he going to get Roman?” I ask.
The blue one grunts in response, crossing his arms over his massive chest and flexing. I stifle the urge to laugh at the display. Sure, big guy, you’re in charge here. Whatever you say, as long as I get to speak to Roman. Hopefully fast.
ROMAN
I don’t know how long it took me to finally fall asleep after Lochlan came to visit me.
I jerked off twice, took a cold shower when my dick was still fucking hard, then tossed and turned for a while.
It couldn’t have been that long ago that I drifted off, so I think the growl that tears from my throat when a knock at my door jolts me awake is completely justified.
“Go the fuck away,” I snarl, rolling over and putting a pillow over my head.
I’m expecting to hear a snarky response from either Mac or Cassius on the other side of the door, or maybe another plea from Lochlan for us to talk about what happened.
What does he want me to say about it? Does he want me to tell him that we’re fated mates and that we’re going to break Jareth’s heart?
Does he want me to drag him into my bed and pick up where we left off?
I groan at the thought and press the pillow harder against my head to try to clear the image.
It’s no use. My dick is already swelling again, and my wolf is rumbling with impatience.
Instead of any of that though, I get a different response.
“Sorry, Roman, but we caught a mage outside, and he says he knows you.” It’s Euroth, one of the lesser demon guards who patrols the grounds of the compound, more for show than anything considering in all the years I’ve been here, we’ve never had any kind of trespasser and rarely any visitors.
I sit bolt upright in bed, letting my pillow tumble to the floor.
“A mage?” I choke, already scrambling to throw my covers off and pull on the same pair of sweatpants I wore earlier, last night, whenever the hell it was that I went to Loch’s room and let him feed on me before kissing the hell out of him.
“Yes, a mage. Silver hair, lavender scent,” he says.
I fling the door open, not bothering with a shirt.
“Take me to him,” I demand. Euroth nods and leads the way. “Is he hurt? Did you and Tezrias do anything to him?” I growl.
He chuckles. “He threw up a shield before we could get within five feet of him. He seemed fine, just pushy and nervous about something. He said it was urgent.”
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, picking up my pace to a jog, leaving Euroth to catch up. I can’t imagine what would be urgent enough for Jare to try that spell I gave him ages ago and come down here looking for me, but it can’t be good.