Chapter 14 #2
Elric could feel the aggression wafting off the man like he was neck-deep in a brawl rather than standing in front of a rather nice home.
The faintest growl echoed from the bodyguard, and Elric decided then and there he didn’t want to fight the man.
This was a new body, and it was still in very good condition.
The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it to get a witch he didn’t even want.
He pretended to reach into his pocket, but really, he was letting his power slither out of his skin and roll down his wrist like beads of sweat. When the shadows had coalesced where he needed them, he lifted his hand and blew upon his palm.
Darkness scattered from his touch and covered the man’s face.
He flinched, lifting his fists to fight, but the surprise had made him inhale as well.
It was more than enough for Elric’s power to wriggle its way inside of him, and then the bodyguard’s expression went slack.
Jaw hanging, the man weaved back and forth a few times with his arms falling to his sides like an ape.
“You’re going to let us inside now,” Elric said. “And bring us to your mistress. Won’t you?”
The man nodded, clearly incapable of speech. He bumped into the door before he twisted his body back inside. The man staggered as Elric followed him through the labyrinthine hallways.
This really was a lovely home. The interior walls were all paneled oak, very pretty and glimmering with wax.
The floors were covered with deep burgundy carpets that his feet sank right into as they made their way through the halls.
Heavy doors bracketed them on either side, interspersed with whale oil lamps and paintings of people who were likely important family members to those who owned the building.
Their escort, who was essentially brain dead, stopped in front of a door and limply gestured with one of his arms.
“This room?” Elric asked.
The man grunted.
“Good boy.” Elric gestured for the women to head in before him. “If you wish to make her a part of this coven, I assume you’ll need to speak with her first?”
Jessamine stared at him as the others entered the room, her gaze on him longer than he wanted.
“What?” he asked finally, before looking at the door again. “Aren’t you supposed to be in there?”
“What did you do to him?”
“I just took his mind for a little while, that’s all.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Where is his mind, then?”
He couldn’t help the sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face. “The same place you and I met, nightmare. He’s there alone for now, but if you wish for me to join him, I’m certain I could stand beside the door next to him while I vacate this form.”
She shuddered. “No, I don’t want you to do that.”
Another voice interrupted them, this one snapping with anger and raspy, as though she’d spent years smoking. “Get in here, you two!”
Jessamine raised a brow and then entered the room. He already knew that the woman on the other side would be formidable, but he hadn’t expected her to snap at them. Clearly, the spells on her stones outside didn’t tell her all the details she wanted to know.
The room beyond was decorated very similar to the hallway.
Warm wooden walls, plush deep-colored carpets, but this one had a fire in the hearth, multiple chairs positioned around a rather impressively large wooden coffee table, and an elderly woman seated in a plush rocking chair.
Her white hair was a dandelion puff on top of her head, while her entire body was covered in handmade quilts, all in earth tones.
“You weren’t expecting visitors,” he said with a grin on his face.
“Clearly not, young man. What did you do to my bodyguard?”
“He’ll be back under your power soon enough. He’s just taking a small break from existence.”
“I will not say a word to anyone here until he has been returned to me.” An old, gnarled hand gripped the arm of her rocker, and even from where he stood he could see the age spots on it. “How dare you think you can enter my home in such a way! Do you know who I am?”
Elric blinked, and he was suddenly standing in front of her, even though he hadn’t lifted a foot to move.
He crouched and took her hand in his, knowing that his power had blackened his eyes.
It took very little to peer into her mind, to soak in all the history of the woman before him.
“You are Agnes Jessup. You have fought tooth and nail your entire life for a lick of power. You married a man who promised you the world, but all he did was beat you. You killed him in his sleep with a knife you’d hidden under your pillow.
Another man came, and you had to kill that one, too.
How many men have you killed? How many have broken at your feet and begged you for mercy? ”
Her hand trembled in his. The fingers were curled with age, but he could still feel the strength in them. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Then his voice warped, filling with all the power of an ancient being who had an endless well of power inside of him. “I am who you have sought, Agnes. I am the bitter night and the ice-cold wind. I am the shadow who dogs your steps and the beast who writhes in the night.”
“Deathless One,” she gasped.
“You have clawed and fought for power your entire life, Agnes. When all you had to do was beg at my altar and I would have given you the world.”