39. To Take an Archdemon’s Claimed
To Take an Archdemon’s Claimed
Rumor Malefic
To the credit of dark, questionable magic, the spells and hexes I had acquired and learned since my foray into the dark lords’ halls had aided me immensely.
To everything I’d been warned about in regards to dark magic—it had also proven to be a pain in the ass.
Not only had it drained my body of life-force, brought on my spider more than once, and frustrated me to no end—dark magic was continually spinning me back towards the wretched Blackthorne Boys.
Though whatever darkness I’d toyed with was nothing compared to the evil that had sunk its claws into my sister.
Those goddess damned withers had entranced her somehow, making her think her only way out was to stay with them and what’s worse—convinced her that she loved one of them?
Prism was naive, impressionable, and frightened.
Like hell would I let her walk back into the monster’s lair, not ever, but especially not when I’d just gotten her back.
When the grimoire only showed up in my cottage to taunt me with the spell it had already given me—I uttered it as quick as I could—hoping the take me to where I belong part would be, I don’t know, someplace far away, sunny, and full of flowers and bunnies or something.
Instead, as I was learning that devious incantations liked to do , it spat us out in a familiar throne room. A throne room for daimon assholes.
Prism clutched my arms as we stood on wobbly knees. “What is this place?” she asked, still holding me for support.
“Not hell, exactly, but pretty close.” I was tired, but not at all as debilitated as I was with my previous hexing.
I assumed that was due to the magic of the dagger at my thigh and the pocket watch around my neck, tucked into my cleavage.
If the Blackthornes had only been using me for some sick end to their curses, why’d they give me such priceless protection charms?
Ones so personal, too? Simply to mess with my head, no doubt.
I couldn’t get their daimon forms out of my mind.
Spade, horned and mighty, looked as if he’d absorbed all the light, time, and space from the room like some empty void in the sky.
An abyss of loathsome hate in the form of a muscular, horned daimon.
And Riot… shining in blinding white, his horns curled at the top of his head.
His light wasn’t the blissful, soothing variety—more like where Spade’s darkness was the presence of everything, Riot’s light was the obliteration of it all.
The kind of scorching white that burns, cleanses, and renders everything obsolete.
I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling of their two extremes.
Opposing forces, opposites, an ancient and all-knowing sort of power shared between them.
So eerie… so enticing to something deep and curious within me. What would it be like to possess a power so raw and encompassing as life and death themselves?
Something clank-clank-clanked by, and I hardly noticed until Prism ducked behind me. “Rumor, is—is that a walking sk-sk-skeleton?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, you get used to them.”
“I don’t want to get used to skeletons! I wan’t to go home. Home to Vore .”
Giving my sister’s hand a squeeze, I looked into her wide eyes with sympathy for all she’d gone through at the hands of those monsters. “I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a potion or spell to undo whatever they’ve done to your mind.”
“My mind is fine—is yours?” she screeched, putting a hand on her hip.
I opened my mouth to respond, when a reply echoed behind me. “They say a mind is a terrible thing to waste and yet Rumor wastes hers so freely and flippantly.”
I whipped around, wishing I had the power to cast a bolt of lightning at Riot’s stupidly perfect human face. “Out of your cage, I see.”
“I heard you escaped yours here, for what, a day?” Riot clapped. “Congratulations. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”
“Get fucked, Riot.”
The white-haired bastard sauntered over, smiling like a devil before taking my sister’s hand. “Who are you and how’d you happen upon the misfortune of knowing Rumor Malefic?”
“I’m Prism,” she answered. “Her younger sister. And you are?”
Riot looked to me with wide eyes. “Well, congratulations indeed. You got her back.”
“Like I said I would,” I replied, crossing my arms and steeling my gaze.
“I’m Riot Blackthorne,” he gestured to both sides of the room. “Those are my brothers, Spade and Twenty.”
I hadn’t even heard them come in. Twenty met my gaze with red, downcast eyes and sorrow in his expression. Had he been crying? Spade, however, regarded me with his usual ice. I promptly ignored him and his stupidly sexy sculpted jawline and all back attire. Stupid .
Something squeaked across the floor, pausing at Spade’s boot.
Wormwood nervously fixed his glasses and held his tiny, mousy hands together.
“Hello, Lord Spade. Sir, I hate to interrupt a throne room gathering, but the prophecy orbs are spinning, and the sacred texts are flying off the shelves—quite literally.”
I’d have expected the hardened Blackthorne to scoff at the teeny creature, but instead he dropped to his knee to address the little being closer. “What’s going on, Wormwood?”
“All my literary sources, meant to protect the library, are telling me that the castle is soon to be under attack.”
Spade nodded. “Thank you for informing us.”
Prism whispered in my ear, “ They are the Blackthorne Boys? Why are they all… hot ? And was he just speaking with a talking mouse? I am so confused.”
I suppressed my laugh, whispering into Prism’s ear, “I’ll catch you up later.”
Spade stomped across the room. Prism tucked herself behind my shoulders.
I didn’t blame her. The meanest Blackthorne seemed very pissed off.
Riot moved by my side, and Twenty’s presence soon joined me as well.
Spade stopped to tower over me, but I didn’t move.
Even without Riot and Twenty at my side, I wouldn’t have backed down.
Not now, not after all I’d endured. Daimon or not—I wouldn’t let Spade scare me anymore.
He pointed at my sister, and I heard her small gasp before he addressed me lowly.
“You took an archdemon’s claimed—and left him alive ? ”
My response died in my throat as Riot burst out laughing. There was that maniacal laugh I’d come to know. Unhinged, unserious, unstable.
Twenty rubbed his temples. “Oh, we are so fucked.”
Riot put his arm around my shoulder. “We are as good as dead… but I love a good fight.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I fired back. “None of you cowards would help me. I got my sister back. What do I have to do now? Kill the monster? Fine, I’ll kill him.”
“No!” Prism shouted behind me, reminding me she was here.
It was bizarre seeing my sister in the Blackthorne Castle.
Like a miniature pink rose in the middle of a stone casket.
She stepped forward. “No one will be killing anyone. I love my wither, he’s my mate, and this is all a misunderstanding. If we could all just talk this over?—“
The castle shook, and a howl rumbled through the walls.
Twenty glanced around. “There’s no talking to archdemons. They communicate in bloodshed and fear and that is all.”
“That’s not true,” Prism argued, her gaze flicking up to his cat ears. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll listen to me.”
Spade interjected. “There’s nothing to be done at this point. Rumor has stolen a claimed back to our estate. They will see the Blackthornes as part of this. The treaty is broken—peace is over. We must fight.”
“Sorry, are you upset that for the first time in fifty years you actually have to do something?” I snapped.
Spade’s jaw tightened. “I’m upset because a lot of innocent people are about to die because of your carelessness.”
“My carelessness! Go hide in your cage in the basement, coward. In your daimon form, you could take any wither, but you won’t, will you? Too proud?”
“Why do you think we lock ourselves away in chains? For our own amusement? It’s to protect all of you from us . In our daimon forms, we would bring ruin to the entire goddess damned town. Is that what you want, Rumor?” Spade growled lowly, stepping closer to get in my face.
Riot glanced at Twenty as if to ask if either of them should intervene, but I only stepped closer to Spade. “What I want is for you to drop dead and leave me and my sister the hell alone.”
“Well, you just might get your wish after today,” Spade answered, his gaze dropping briefly to my cleavage. “Nice necklace.”
Heat from anger and arousal burned my cheeks as another, closer, howl tore across the estate. Prism ran to the window. “He’s coming for me. This is all for me. If you just let me speak with him, no one has to get hurt.”
“No,” I answered. “Those vile, evil creatures are never getting near you again.”
“There’s two of them,” Riot said idly. “The three of us will last, I don’t know, an hour? Too optimistic? Can we even die, really? No one’s gotten close to killing me in a hundred years.”
My sister’s fist beat against the stained glass window. “Vore! I’m here! I love you!”
“She’s lost her mind,” I said to Twenty.
“Wait.” Spade strode over with more severity than usual. “What name did you just say?”
Prism turned to him with wide eyes. “My chosen is Vore.”
Spade glanced at Riot, whose smile faded in an instant.
Prism continued, “He is kind, and wise, and reasonable. He will listen to me and to you if you only show him I am safe?—“