19 Dáinn #2
“I was feasting on his soul, just as Ludmilla ordered me to do. Then a human appeared, and she told me to stop. I felt the magic in her voice, Baz. Her words hit me like a flaming arrow to the chest.” I press a hand over the spot that still aches.
“Every glimmering piece of the soul I was devouring was choked out of me. It poured back into the witch. He still lives.”
“Sweet Isis,” Baz says on a breath. As he sinks down, a puffy white armchair appears behind him. His expression is dazed. Slowly, he shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was possible. Wraiths can’t be stopped. That’s sort of your whole mythos.”
“Well, we can. Tonight, I was. And I need you to look into this for me. I need to understand how it happened.”
He nods, still lost in thought. “A human, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else remarkable about her?”
I’m all at once at war with my own covetous nature. I know my friend. He likes to collect curiosities. If he thinks my human is interesting enough, he’ll try to claim her for himself. And that prismatic princess is all mine. No one will be claiming any part of her but me.
But I really do need his help. I have no idea how much time remains of my freedom.
My focus must be all for Jasper, his coven, and the death of my unholy mistress.
Taking a chance, I tell the mage the truth.
“Hers is the most dazzling aura I’ve ever seen.
It’s blinding in its beauty. A revelation. I ache to drain her.”
His eyes go wide, those lilac irises flaring to deepest plum with excitement. “You long to drain the only human who can stop you?”
I nod.
“Fascinating,” he murmurs. “I’d like to meet her . . . see this dazzling aura for myself—”
My creature nature takes over in a flash. Swooping forward, I grab the mage by the throat and drag him from his chair, dangling him above the ground. “The human is mine. Do you hear me? Touch her, and I will rip the soul from your chest and wear your immortality as a bracelet.”
He grins wide, purple smoke curling from him, twisting with my creeping black shadows. Reaching out, he pats the hand now at his throat. “Easy, old friend. You asked for my help, remember? It will be difficult to take the full measure of things without meeting the human, wouldn’t you agree?”
Gods, I know he’s right. It’s the only way. But can I trust him? Can I trust myself not to devour her before I get the answers I seek?
Wait—can I even devour her?
Baz chuckles. “Oh, you do want her, don’t you? Desperately, it would seem.” With a hiss, I let him go and he drops to the floor. Lifting a hand, he massages his throat, soothing the spot where I just choked him. “You know, when I ask a friend for help, I tend to refrain from bodily violence.”
I lower my head in contrition, adjusting the front of my robes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He considers for a moment. “Apology accepted. Now, when shall we do this? I’m assuming time waits for no man? Or in this case, no wraith?”
Now we come to the first hurdle. “It can’t be tonight. I’ll have to find a way to bring her to you.”
He arches a dark brow. “Why?”
“The human is now on Burr Island. Unless you’ve discovered a way to pass through the coven’s wards, you can’t go there.”
At this, Baz’s eyes widen with surprise. “Ludmilla sent you to Burr Island to devour the soul of a witch?”
I nod.
“Which one?”
“Jasper Lyons Prescott.”
He gasps, lifting a hand to his mouth for a moment before dropping it back to his side. “Hecate’s saggy tits! That rotten witch sent you to kill their high priest? In hell’s name, why?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I must find out. I go now to Burr Island to seek out the witch. I must understand what she wants from his island and why she wants him dead. In this, I may need your help as well.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “Dáinn, I’m sorry, but no—”
“Baz, please.” I grab his arms. “You’re the only one I can trust. The only one with the magic to help me.”
He lifts his hands, wrapping them around my bony wrists. “There are many things I would do for you, my darling Dáinn. But I have two simple rules in life: Never walk north through a south-facing door, and don’t fuck with witches.”
“But you’re a mage—”
“Exactly!” He slaps my hands down and backs away.
“Which is why I know not to fuck with bloody fucking witches! Especially not ancient covens like the witches on Burr Island. You go messing with them, and they’ll rip the cowl off your head and spit down your throat.
I’m warning you, Dáinn. You think you’re dead now? Those witches will tear you apart—”
“I seek only to help them!”
He leans away, searching my face, his expression wary. “Help them with what?”
“Killing Ludmilla.”
His eyes alight with interest. “You would kill her?”
“It’s the only way we can all be free of her.
Whatever she wants with their island, she won’t stop with killing the high priest. And I can’t kill Ludmilla myself.
The magic of my bond won’t allow it. They need me as much as I need them.
I will go now and offer them my help. But first I need your help. ”
He groans, daring to turn away. “I really can’t be involved.”
“What is your freedom worth to you?” I call after him. “What would you be willing to risk to keep it?”
Wincing, he turns back. “Now, Dáinn, darling, you must play fair. No tugging on a mage’s heartstrings—”
“But there is no playing fair!” I drift closer, reaching out with both hands. He stiffens and I let them hover there, not touching him. “Nothing about this has ever been fair. I ask you, my oldest and dearest friend, if you were trapped, what wouldn’t you do to fight your way free?”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, fresh tears rimming his eyes. “Shit.”
I sigh with relief. “Baz, thank you.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“I know, but you will.”
He narrows his eyes in annoyance. “You’re going to get us both killed. You know that, right?”
I shrug a bony shoulder. “I’m already dead.”
Growling low, he steps forward, pointing a warning finger in my face.
“If this comes around to bite me in the arse in any way other than pleasurably, I will haunt you until the end of time. Do you hear me, Dáinn? You will never know another moment’s peace.
” The tip of his finger crackles with purple sparks as he seals his threat with an unspoken curse.
I smile, even knowing he can’t see it beneath my cowl. “I would like that.”
Huffing, he crosses his arms. “All right, fine. What else do you need from me then?”
I glance around at the trappings of this magical mortuary, an idea blooming in my mind. “Can you make a death certificate?”
“Who died?”
“No one.”
“Well, then why do you need a death certificate?”
He can’t see it when I smile again.