35. X #3
Riot huffed in indignation. “Nice, real nice, Spade. But you fucking took the key dagger away that I gave her?”
Reaching into his coat again, Spade retrieved the familiar white dagger and handed it to me. I held both items in my palms, feeling their weight and the thrum of their magics calling to my blood. “For me?” I asked, astonished at the charms.
Firelight danced along the scar across Spade’s eye and otherwise perfect features. “All the better to protect you with, my dear.”
“Why would any of you care about protecting me? You’ve all refused to help me find my sister. You’ve tormented me and kept me captive here. Why do you suddenly care? What benefit am I to any of you?” The room hushed apart from the crackles and pops of the burning wood.
Riot turned his face toward me, though he only stared downward and not in my eyes.
His white hair hung sleek and down today, no ponytail, just the moonlight strands framing his masculine, angelic face.
“I believe it’s safe to say we’ve all grown fond of you.
As far as benefits… there could be benefits for us all if we stuck together… and that’s all I will say on that.”
“All you will say—or all you can say?” Silence again. “The midnight disappearing, not leaving the grounds, the cryptic shit… are you guys already hexed? Or under some sort of curse?” Twenty, Spade, and Riot all avoided my gaze. I pressed on, sitting down my empty glass. “How can I help?”
Spade’s piercing stare flicked to mine. “You wish to help?”
“Yes, for some stupid reason, I do. Even though you won’t help me. Call me a glutton for punishment.” I rolled my eyes before tucking Riot’s dagger and Spade’s watch into the pockets of my dress.
Riot measured his words carefully. “We could … help you… should you help us.”
Spade warned lowly, “Careful, Riot.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Riot stretched his arm over the back of my seat, his eyes falling to the crook of my neck.
With a gruff exhale, Spade stepped closer and offered me his hand. “Let’s teach you a basic combat spell for my peace of mind.”
I took his hand, and he led me to the center of the room. Though I could feel his brothers’ stares burning into us as I held his palm. What had gotten into them? Did they all actually like me, or was I stuck between some family competition? Regardless, it seemed to finally be working in my favor.
Twenty crouched in the corner by a spinning red sphere. “What divination are you thinking?”
“A Requiem spell. If I can only teach her one, I think that’s the best to start with,” Spade answered.
Riot shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered over.
“Requiem spells are too dark for her. It’ll feed off her power and do more harm than good.
I’d go with an Alkaline incantation. Simpler, will stun whatever rogue townsfolk coming after her, like little farmer Billy downstairs, allowing her to escape. ”
Fire versus ice, I realized in that moment. Shadow and light, the two men couldn’t have been more different. For two utterly opposing forces, how could I feel myself already so torn between the both of them? My attraction was only growing for them all with no end in sight.
Spade narrowed his gaze at his brother. “Rumor isn’t merely up against runaway farmer boys. A wither took her sister. Her coven alone… well… suffice it to say, those witches are less than trustworthy.”
My usual fire to defend my coven and crone didn’t ignite at that statement, not like it should have, not like it would have when I first arrived.
Could I be… changing? Perhaps my proximity to dark magic was altering my allegiances.
That’s likely what my crone would say, but I wasn’t going to stop, not when I felt Prism so close. Soon, this would all be over.
My attention shifted to Twenty. My familiar’s job was to know what was best for me and see to it. I’d trust his judgement. “What do you think?”
My familiar’s eyebrows raised, and he straightened, as if surprised to be asked or included. “I think if you can manage it, learn the Requiem spell. It’s a beast of a performer and would kill a man or momentarily stun a wither.”
It hadn’t yet occurred to me that when I found my sister…
her monster would be nearby. Anger churned behind my ribs towards the clawed nightmare that grabbed her on her wedding day.
I didn’t particularly want her married to Birch, but I sure as hell didn’t want her abducted by some horrific creature.
“Just how powerful are withers?” I dared to ask.
My question silenced the room again, and when I glanced to Twenty and Riot, they each rested their gaze on Spade.
The eldest Blackthorne brother leaned on a bookshelf, his arms crossed and expression dark as he measured his words.
“They’re only called withers in this realm.
In other realms, and in hell itself, they go by a different name. ”
Spade’s magic was cold as it tingled across my skin, making the hair on my arms stand in anxiety. “What is that name? I need to know as much as I can if there’s a possibility I will have to face and kill one.”
“Archdemons.” The title alone chilled my bones.
Spade moved from the bookshelf and toward me.
“No matter how strong, no matter how powerful, they are stronger. Forged in the ash of hell itself, some say crafted by the devil, archdemons are evil personified. You likely won’t face one and survive.
” Spade pointed to the slash across his eye. “I nearly didn’t.”
Breath fled my lungs, and my mouth dried. I leaned on a sofa. “Your scar—you fought a wither—I mean—an archdemon?”
“The worst of them,” he said lowly. “It was the only way to secure the treaty, to keep them from rapturing every person in Willowspire, magical or not, wedding rite or not.”
Shock and confusion muddled through me. “You… what? You fought them and… brokered a deal to protect Willowspire? So, you have been protecting the town?”
“As much as we’re permitted within… our bounds. However… the withers are also outside their bounds with this one.”
“What is the agreement?”
Riot answered, pouring himself another drink.
“The monster of their choosing may take a maiden who would have otherwise been raptured, should her beloved fiancé not come to claim her. It’s particular and makes it difficult for them to take any woman, being that they have to meet both criteria.
We reached this bargain through magic and blood—making it near impossible for them to break its ward.
Twenty added, “It also keeps them from just invading the town.”
“But they still do Asunder’s bidding—using their blue smoke to fulfill the rapture, should any of us display any unapproved magical usage?”
Riot answered, “They do, but we cannot overrule Asunder’s law. We can only find loopholes, as we did with the withers.” He took a bow, lifting his alcohol. “You’re welcome.”
“My sister isn’t magical. Yes, her fiancé didn’t show, but she wouldn’t have been raptured.”
Spade replied, “Then they’ve somehow broken the treaty—and that is a problem.”
Dizziness swirled in my head as I tried to make sense of multiple puzzle pieces. My focus shifted back to the strength and power of these monsters. “If withers are so deadly, how is my sister still alive?”
Spade answered. “Archdemons, when they take a mate, live and breathe for them. As horrific and deadly as they are, they prefer a community or family system with others of their kind. Your sister may be frightened, but she will not be harmed by whatever archdemon took her. Hopefully she has not… encouraged his obsession.”
An annoyed breath left my lips. “Why would my sister encourage anything these vile creatures do? She’s undoubtedly terrified and in need of saving. I’m going to get her back—whatever it takes.”
Crossing the way, Spade held up his palms, revealing dark shadows curving between his fingers like ribbons in the wind. “Then you better get really comfortable with dark magic, Rumor. Can you do that?”
Nodding, the magic within me hummed in pleasure.
Dark magic sounded like exactly what I needed to learn.
Forget the light. The light hadn’t done shit for me.
Only after exploring hexes, this goddess forsaken castle, and a talking grimoire, had my magic truly danced to the surface of my being. Being good had gotten me nowhere.
It was time to be bad.
To accept the darkness.
Anything to get what I wanted.