Chapter 11
The Mercedes purrs as I leave the gates of Henbane Coven behind and head out onto the open road. The night is dark, made even darker by the evergreens that rise up on either side of the street.
Next to me, Nero sits in the passenger seat, watching it all blur by.
I wear Memnon’s gifts—both the jewelry and the daggers. It feels only a little ridiculous, but I’m too infatuated with my new husband and his presents to care.
I glance at the phone, which rests in my cupholder, the GPS showing the way to the address Memnon gave me, the key to it sitting in my pocket. Whatever this place is, it’s definitely not Memnon’s house—at least, not the one I’m familiar with, but it is somewhat close.
Ahead of me, tendrils of fog slither out from between the pine trees, looking like spectral serpents. As soon as my car passes into it, the visibility cuts in half. The streetlamps here are nonexistent, so the only real light comes from the high beams the car flicks on.
I slow down to what feels like a safe speed. Even then, I’m still white knuckling the steering wheel.
Maiden, Mother, Crone, did we have to have fog tonight when I’m driving a new car to a new location?
Should’ve just taken a broom.
About a half a mile down the road, the fog clears, and I breathe a little easier, then easier still when the road straightens out.
There.
I reach over and pet Nero on the head.
“Look at us. Totally fine.”
My GPS rattles off the next instructions, and I glance down at my phone in the cupholder.
When I glance up, a figure stands in the middle of the road.
“Shit.”
I slam on my brakes, yanking my car hard to the side to avoid hitting them.
Tires squeal as the Mercedes careens off the road.
I throw out my arm to brace Nero, a protective ward slipping from my palm. Too late I see the tree rising up in front of us—
BANG.
Darkness.
I rouse to the feeling of rocks scraping across my skin. Something warm and wet drips from my temple, and my head and arms bounce over gravel and pinecones.
I blink, my surroundings coming into focus. From the watery light of my headlights, I can see dark trees standing like sentinels. They shift a little, blurring in and out of focus.
My head pounds. Has my magic eaten a memory? Did I overdraw it? Is that why my thoughts seem so unclear?
There are things I’m supposed to remember. If I can remember them, I’ll be fine.
I-I am…
Selene!
Yes. Right. Selene. I am Selene Bowers.
My parents—
My head bangs into a particularly pointy rock, and a cry slips out, my vision darkening.
Selene!
When it clears, that warm liquid is dripping down my eyes, and I have to blink it away. My shoulder joints hurt, my backside hurts, and someone is…someone is dragging me by the legs. To safety?
I glance down the length of my body and see a man with soft blond hair pulling me by the ankles.
I groan, and he glances over his shoulder at me.
For the love of the gods, Selene! Please, answer me!
Why is my own mind yelling at me?
I swear I sense my thoughts pausing.
My fierce queen, I am not your thoughts, I am your soul mate, Memnon.
Memnon. Despite my situation, a fluttery feeling rushes through me. Of course.
I can feel your pain. I’m coming for you, just hold on a little while longer.
Someone else is already here.
Another pause, this one laden with some emotion I cannot hope to figure out.
Are they friend or foe? Memnon demands.
Before I can even attempt to answer, the man drops my legs. My eyes roll around as I take in my surroundings. The world won’t stop moving, but I think…I think he’s drawn me deeper into the forest.
Why would he do that?
The answer is just beyond my reach, but there is a sensation, like a long-limbed spider crawling up my back, and it feels wrong. All wrong. Very, very wrong.
Alright, so I take it they’re a fucking foe, Memnon says eavesdropping on my fragmented thoughts. Gods, the number of enemies who think to attack you as though they won’t have to deal with me.
I stare up at the man looming over me, startled by how handsome he is. So handsome…but he has empty eyes.
“Who are you?” I murmur. I feel half dead, and yet my heart is beginning to pound, and colored smoke—no, wait, not smoke but magic—is sifting out of my palms, a few thin threads of it wrapping around the man.
Without preamble, he kneels, then straddles me.
“Oh, my husband is not going to like that,” I say, my head still spinning.
Whatever they’ve done, their death just got slower, Memnon vows.
The man leans forward. “I bet he won’t like a lot of the things I’m about to do to you,” he says. Then, leaning forward, he licks my face from jawline to temple.
His entire body shudders, and when he rears back, I see blood—my blood—smearing his lips.
That’s when, despite all the haziness in my mind, I know exactly what I’m dealing with.
A fucking demon.
A demon? Memnon echoes. His voice sounds particularly scary.
Meanwhile the creature uses his thumb to swipe away the remaining blood on his face and licks his finger clean.
The demon groans, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I haven’t tasted a witch since I came here.”
I stare up at those blown pupils as the demon’s lips curl back to reveal his sharpened canines.
My muscles tense. I think…think this is about to hurt.
Selene! Memnon’s magic presses up to the edge of our bond, where his essence meets mine. Take my power! It is yours! Please, protect yourself until I can get there!
His words have no sooner crossed my mind than I remember the heaviness at my side. I reach for it now, my hand grasping a hilt.
My daggers.
I’d forgotten.
Unsheathing one, I slam it into his side. The creature screams, the sound unholy. I withdraw the blade, feeling the cascade of dark liquid pour onto me.
Then, something crashes into the creature, ripping him off my body.
I gasp in a deep breath, forcing myself to sit up as I hear snarling and a wet, tearing noise. The demon is rolling with… I cannot tell. Not until I see a long tail.
I realize then that it’s, it’s…my familiar. Nero.
Goddess, no.
He’s shredding the demon, but the creature is now lunging for my panther’s neck. I stagger to my feet only to nearly fall again as the world spins.
Fuck, something is deeply wrong with my head, but I can’t focus on that. Not while my familiar is vulnerable.
I lift my hands, aiming my palms at the demon. My power gathers in me, and in an addled burst, I shove it out.
“Annihilate.” The spell knifes through the air, my orange magic streaked with black. I half expect to miss the demon, but the curse lands squarely against his chest. Power explodes against his form, blowing bits of his flesh apart as it throws him off Nero.
His mangled body lies still on the ground, and I cannot care to focus on whether he’s alive or dead. Not when Nero is slumped on the ground, his form much too still.
I trip over to my panther’s side, pausing once to vomit when dizziness overwhelms me.
I fall to my knees next to him and check him over.
There’s blood along his temple, but I don’t know where the wound’s source is.
I slip into his form for a moment. It’s enough to realize my own mind isn’t thinking properly.
I’m going to need to heal myself when I return to it.
That thought only lingers an instant before I realize that not only is Nero’s head pounding with pain, one of my—his—legs is broken, and his chest hurts with every inhalation.
Returning my awareness to my own body is like stepping back into a crashed car. Everything makes less sense.
You have a concussion. I cannot tell whether Memnon spoke the words or my own mind did.
A concussion, yes.
And I was supposed to do something when I returned to it.
My gaze moves back to my panther. Of course.
I settle my hands into Nero’s fur. “Vakahi.” Heal.
My magic sinks into my familiar. I can sense it fitting together at least one broken bone and mending torn flesh. Nero’s chest seems to expand just a little when I hear low, evil laughter.
I glance over my shoulder just as the demon sits up. His shirt is in tatters, but the skin of his stomach is smooth, unblemished.
“You think that hurts me? I am powered by it.”
Cannot use dark magic on demons. The thought trickles in from the maze of my mind. It…only makes them stronger.
My neck pounds, and I’m swaying from where I kneel.
There was another thing I was supposed to remember
Est amage, heal yourself! Memnon demands—no, begs.
The demon rises. This time, he doesn’t bother coming closer. Instead, he eyes me from where he stands, his gaze flicking to my panther.
Hold fast, my queen, I am close!
I place a hand to my head. “Vakahi,” I incant again.
Slowly, the haze of my mind peels back just enough so I can think. I draw in a gasping breath and lower my hand.
Several drops of blood hit the earth, and beneath me, I sense the ground stir.
…Ancient queen… The words sound as though they’re spoken by several synchronized voices.
I’d almost forgotten about them, the Hungering Ones. Ancient entities that helped me once—for a price.
“If you’re going to speak to me, can you at least be helpful?” I say breathlessly. The voices don’t respond, so I continue. “It would be really nice if you could hold the demon in place.”
The demon slowly prowling toward me lets out a humorless laugh. “They do not answer to mere mortals like you.”
…For a price, Empressss…
The demon pauses.
“Name it,” I say grimly.
…We want blood…
“Done.”
The demon begins sinking into the damp soil, the earth crawling over his feet as it begins to bury him.
Now the creature isn’t laughing.
“How are you doing this?” he demands, shock pulling at his features. Another several inches of his ankles and lower legs descend into the earth.
I release another spell, one that’s nothing more than a strong gust of wind, but it’s enough to knock the demon off balance.
He falls awkwardly to the ground. As soon as he hits the soil, the earth around him moves, rolling over his arms and legs, dragging him deeper and deeper into its cold embrace.