Chapter 25
COLD, COLD HEART
WHEN MURMUR’S MIND CREPT BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS, he heard the crackling of the fire. He felt warm, which was a rarity for him. He was always cold. He was so cold, he’d just become the cold so he didn’t feel it anymore. But he felt warm now, and it was pleasant.
He opened his eyes. He was lying on the rug by the fireplace in his library, covered by a blanket.
He turned his head and saw Suyin, fast asleep.
She sat beside him on the ground, leaning against the couch, which she’d pulled closer to the fire.
There was a book open in her lap, but she’d nodded off while reading, and her head slumped to the side. He smiled a little at the sight.
His gaze dropped to her forearm, resting carefully over the open book, and his smile faded.
Blood soaked her bandage.
Blood that hadn’t fucking worked.
Why hadn’t it worked? He’d been sure her sacrifice would be strong enough. But obviously, he was still missing some crucial step, and he didn’t know what it was.
He was running out of chances to try. Every time he failed, it drained him of power and took him days to recover. This time, he’d gotten further than ever before, and it was only a matter of time before the High King figured out what he was doing and incinerated him with hellfire.
Even with Suyin’s willing blood sacrifice, he wasn’t strong enough to break through the final barrier of protection around the Nine Rings.
Reinforced with the archangel’s blood, the outer lines of the sigil had held, and there was more than enough strength in the hellfire.
But something was lacking to complete the portal.
He needed more. An even greater sacrifice. It was the only explanation.
But he had already taken twice as much blood as he needed from Suyin to make the offering. And she was as willing as it was possible to be. She knew exactly what he was doing, and she wanted to help of her own free will. Why wasn’t it enough?
Slowly, the truth sank in, and with it, his blood ran cold.
There was one terrible form of sacrifice he had not yet considered. One very final, terrible form.
And, given his fondness for the witch, he could only conclude that it would be an astoundingly powerful one. More than powerful enough to do what he needed it to.
Murmur turned to one side, pushed into his palms, and sat up.
His head spun and his stomach churned from his realization.
He felt like death warmed over. He always did after practicing strong necromancy, and this was easily the most difficult spell he’d ever attempted.
But this time, his epiphany made him feel worse than the magic.
He’d told Suyin to leave if anything went wrong, and him face-planting after the spell finished was easily classifiable as a complication. Yet she had stayed. And she’d somehow dragged his unconscious body over to the fire, though it must have been difficult.
Whenever she was around, he became fixated on her presence, whether she was arguing with him, sitting in the corner reading quietly, or offering her body to him and obeying his commands. He had made compromises for her. He never compromised, but somehow she had convinced him.
She was fucking with his head. And while he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy being fucked with—especially when it involved bending her over his desk—it was making it harder to think clearly, clouding his judgment.
His souls still screamed at him, and his multilayered plans grew more intricate with every complication. His impending death still loomed on the horizon.
Suyin distracted him from his goals and hindered his progress. He’d come this far, after so many long years, and he couldn’t throw it all away now. This was bigger than either of them. He had to do whatever it took—whatever it took—to finish this. The very fate of the underworld depended on it.
And now he wondered, if he hadn’t allowed her to distract him, would he have figured out his mistake, identified the missing link, much sooner? Because a part of him balked at the idea. A part of him rejected it the minute it rose to mind. A part of him wanted to refuse to even entertain it.
But the spell had failed, and now he had no choice but to consider it. And as he did, he knew it would work. In fact, he’d been a fool to think a spell this powerful could succeed without it. He had allowed his attachment to her to distract him from the truth.
He’d said it himself, not long ago, when he’d been teaching Suyin about Sheolic magic.
Sacrificing a person the caster has bonded to is one of the most powerful offerings in all of magic …
If the desire for the success of the spell is great enough, they will utilize it.
If they do not, all their other sacrifices will never measure up to that amount of potential potency, and they will unknowingly cripple themself.
That was what he’d done, hadn’t he? Crippled himself. By forming a bond with Suyin, he had sabotaged his own spell. And now, to make it work, he had to sever that attachment in the most final, irrevocable way.
Time was running out. It was now or never.
This time, he would do what had to be done.
He closed his eyes, found the part of himself that he’d given free reign these last days—the part that was full of desire, the part that allowed him to relax and feel contentment—and he sealed it away behind an impenetrable mental wall.
Just as he’d done to his fear and doubt.
Just as he’d done to all the weakest parts of himself.
When he was done, he opened his eyes and reached out, jostling Suyin gently back to wakefulness.
She jerked upright, eyes snapping open. They widened when they saw his face.
“Suyin—”
“Shit, Murmur!” To his vast surprise, she tossed the book aside and launched herself into his arms, seizing him in an embrace so tight, he nearly fought to draw breath. “Thank fuck.”
Stunned, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, completing the strange embrace and patting her back awkwardly. His stomach suddenly felt like a sword had been stuck through it.
She seemed to sense his discomfort and pulled back a moment later. “You’re okay.”
“Yes.” He set her apart from him, needing distance.
“Your face looks fucked. Jesus.”
“It always does when I do powerful magic.”
“Do you pass out every time you attempt that spell?”
“No. I’m often weakened, but this was the first time I’ve lost consciousness.” He scowled. “It should have worked.”
“Why didn’t it?”
He hesitated, jaw shifting. “I’m still missing something.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No,” he lied, frowning at the way his stomach churned. “I need to do more research.”
“Still?” She blew out a breath. “Fuck. Where do we even begin researching that? Who would even have the kind of information we need?”
His jaw clenched. “There will be no ‘we’ this time.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
The furrow in her brow, the confusion in her eyes … She truly looked dismayed by his words. Foolish witch. Didn’t they teach you never to trust a demon?
“I’ve decided to grant your request, Suyin.”
“What request?”
Their blood vow prevented him from doing what needed to be done, but he knew a way to circumvent it.
“I recognize that you can’t stay here indefinitely, much as it might convenience me.
I will allow you to return to Earth so you may assure your coven you’re okay.
And when I’ve solved this problem and am ready to try again, I’ll come for you. ”
“I—But—” She swallowed and searched his gaze. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”
“Careful,” he warned, unable to quell the strange nausea still roiling in his stomach. “By that tone, one might think you want to stay here with me.”
Her features froze in an unreadable expression. Then she shook her head. “No, you’re right. I need to go back. I need to tell everyone I’m alive before they plan my funeral.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Go now and gather your things. I’ll return you to your home.”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked softly. “Your eyes …”
He was seized with another gripping spasm in his gut. “I’m fine. Get your things. We’ll leave now.”
Suyin almost couldn’t believe it as they stepped out of the hellgate into an empty apartment.
The drywall had been mostly torn out, and wherever it wasn’t, it was riddled with holes.
The kitchen in the next room had been gutted down to bare wires and pipes.
The old hardwood floors were scuffed and filthy.
But she was on Earth, and it was glorious.
“How did you find this place?” she asked Murmur, turning to face him where he stood behind her. She flinched slightly when their eyes met. Or at least, she thought they met. She couldn’t tell where he was looking.
“It wasn’t difficult,” he replied distantly.
He was even creepier now with his solid-black eyes and those spidery veins cascading down his cheeks.
She was worried about him, if she was honest. He looked even deader than usual, and he’d been strangely detached since waking up.
He probably needed to take it easy for a few days to recover, but she knew he had no intention of doing so.
You’re a fool, Suyin. Fifty years old, and she was still falling prey to the I-can-fix-him mentality. Murmur could take care of himself. He’d been doing it for millennia, longer than she could even conceive of.
“How do we get outside?” She looked around for an obvious exit. Surely he hadn’t been using the front door.
“Follow me.” He strode toward the kitchen, beckoning with his claws.
They stepped over rotted floorboards and chunks of drywall. He slid aside a loose piece of plywood covering a broken window, and they climbed through onto the balcony outside.