Chapter 11 Discord
DISCORD
I sat at a small table in the kitchen of Hecate’s house, watching Cinder intently as she gathered herbs and mixed potions, storing them in obsidian bottles before adding them to her bag.
She had tied her long, rose locks into a messy knot atop her head, and a few stray strands hung down, framing her beautiful face, making my chest ache.
Never in my existence had I been so enamored of another being.
After the mistakes I had made, the turmoil I’d brought upon her family and her coven, I was in awe of the fact that she enjoyed my presence.
That she willingly shared herself with me, mind, body, and soul.
I did not deserve her kindness, much less her desire, yet there she was, stealing glances, a soft smile curving her pink lips as she worked.
My presence affected her in ways I never would have believed.
I refused to question it further. What fate had willed, no one could undo, and I’d grown tired of trying. Whether deserved or not, Cinder belonged to me.
“What are you smiling about?” The melodic tone of her voice drew me from my thoughts.
“I didn’t realize I was,” I said.
She held her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a little bit.”
I chuckled. “I am in awe at the way things have transpired.”
“If by things, you mean a light witch playing house with a demon, so am I.” She placed three more bottles into her bag and zipped it shut before filling a bowl with water and carrying it to the table.
The sprinkling of herbs she dropped into the water floated atop the surface, and she set a purple candle on either side of the bowl.
“I’m so glad Hecate’s kitchen is stocked.
I left most of what I took from the seer at her altar as an offering.
” She arched a brow. “Then you destroyed the whole temple.”
“Hmph.” I crossed my arms. “I had help.”
“I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.” She sank into the chair across from me and shot flames toward the candles, igniting the wicks before leaning her forearms on the table. Her position pressed her breasts together and upward, drawing my gaze.
“Indeed, you are.” I adjusted my growing dick through my pants.
“Down, boy.” She laughed. “As much as I would like to find out just how hard of a time I could give you, we need to focus.”
“Right,” I said. “What do you need me to do?”
She laid her hands on the table, palms up, and curled her fingers in a give me motion. “I’m going to scry again, and you’re going to share your power with me. That’s how we found Hecate last time.”
“Except we didn’t find her.” I placed my hands in hers, the soft, warm skin of her palms reminding me of the way her naked body had felt wrapped in my arms. “We found a trap set by Tumult. Perhaps he manipulated your vision somehow. He had been hiding, watching our adventure unfold, and waiting to strike.”
“Hmm.” She pressed her lips into a hard line. “Well, he’s dead now, so we don’t have to worry about that. If you can think of another way to find her, I’m open to suggestions.”
I shook my head. Unfortunately, I had no inkling of where the goddess might be. “Proceed.”
“We call on the goddess Hecate, mother of magic, ruler of the night. Allow us to find you and end our plight. As I will it, so mote it be.” She squeezed my hands. “Magic, please.”
At her request, I opened myself to her, allowing what little power I had left to cross the barrier of skin and seep into her psyche. She inhaled quickly at first, and then she took a deep, slow breath.
The tightness around her eyes softened as she stared into the bowl, the energy in the room shifting slightly as she slipped into the scrying trance. Her expression blanked, and I reached out with metaphorical fingers, caressing the tether that bound us, searching for her consciousness.
All I found was static. Only witches could perform this feat of magic, and though my magic helped her go deeper, I could see nothing of her vision.
Five minutes of silence passed before shouts sounded from outside.
I twisted in my seat, craning my neck in an attempt to see out the window without letting go of Cinder’s hands.
Her breathing grew quicker, shallower, and sweat slicked her palms, but I couldn’t tell if the distress came from her vision or from the commotion on the street.
More shouting ensued, along with the sounds of fists hitting bodies and the grunts and groans of those engaged in the quarrel.
It was nothing unusual for this town. This place had always attracted the vilest, most unintelligent beings in the realm.
It was a cesspool of the stereotypes who gave my species a bad name.
The shouting grew louder, and hoof steps clacked on the stone walk leading toward the house. It appeared, even with Hecate’s magic shielding this house, we were about to have visitors. I closed my eyes and sent another pulse of magic into Cinder, hoping to speed her vision along.
“Too much,” she wheezed, and I reeled it in.
“It seems we’ve been discovered.” I attempted to release her hands, but she tightened her grip.
“I need more time.”
“I’m not going in there. That place is cursed,” a gruff voice sounded from outside. “Banazar foamed at the mouth for three weeks when he tried.”
“We don’t have more time,” I said.
“Just a little.” She squeezed me tighter and sucked in a deep breath, furrowing her brow in concentration.
“I’ll do it,” another demon said two seconds before he let out an agonizing wail and thudded onto the ground.
“Cinder.” I shook her hands, trying to bring her out of the trance. She didn’t respond.
“How do you even know they’re in there?” the gruff voice asked. “No demon has ever been able to get close to that house.”
“There’s nowhere else they could be, you imbecile.” Hooves stomped on the stone, and I leaned, craning my neck again. I caught a quick glimpse of a horse’s ass, his tail swishing in annoyance.
“Cinder, it’s the centaur.” I tugged from her grasp, and the window behind me shattered. Something hard hit the back of my head, making my vision swim, and Cinder gasped, her eyes widening as she pressed a hand to her chest.
“There’s a shroud on this building,” the centaur said. “I heard glass break where it appeared there was none.”
Another object crashed through an adjacent window, and I picked it up before grabbing Cinder’s arm and dragging her away from the glass.
“Why are they throwing canned meat?” I held up the culpable object.
“Long story. How many are out there? Can we take them all?” She darted toward the counter and grabbed her bag.
“If we were operating at full strength, yes. But in this condition, and without weapons…”
“Here.” She reached into the bag and handed me a knife, taking one for herself before situating the straps on her shoulders.
I tested the weight of the thin, serrated blade. “This is used for cutting meat at dinner.”
“It was the best I could find.” She slid the curtain aside slightly to peer out the window. “Holy shit. Horse-man rallied the whole town.”
I looked from my left hand, holding the canned meat, to my right, holding the flimsy knife. I could do more damage with the can.
Standing behind my witch, I peered out the window as the centaur clutched an imp and hurled it toward the house.
The moment the creature hit the ward, its body exploded, slime and blood flying outward in every direction.
The imbeciles cheered, encouraging the centaur, and Cinder drummed her fingers against the wall, narrowing her eyes as she watched the commotion.
“He’s trying to break the ward.” She turned to me as the centaur picked up another imp and threw it onto the porch. Guts splattered against the window, and she flinched. “He’ll sacrifice them all to get to us, and they’re egging him on. What morons. Is everyone in Hell that stupid?”
I arched a brow, silently asking her to examine her words.
She rolled her eyes. “I obviously don’t mean you, silly.”
“Demons possess varying levels of intelligence, the same as humans and witches in your realm.”
Another flying demon bomb soared through the air, the lower-mid-level fiend making it all the way to the door before it screeched and darted down the steps, clutching its head and running face-first into a thorny bramble. It thrashed and screamed at a high pitch that nearly burst my eardrums.
“Let’s head out the back.” Cinder clutched my arm and guided me down the hall. “Talk about your déjà vu.”
“We do seem to find ourselves the targets of ambushes frequently.” As we passed the bedroom, I cast the rumpled sheets a longing glance. Of course, our peaceful solitude had been too good to last. Perhaps one day…
A thud sounded from the front of the house, like a body slamming against the door. I spun around to find the silhouettes of half a dozen fiends darkening the windows. Hooves clattered on the stone outside, a guttural roar ripping from the centaur’s chest as he charged.
“It appears they’ve broken the ward,” I said.
“No shit.” Cinder held up a hand, indicating that I should stop. “They’re behind the house too.”
I peered out the window. Eight more demons approached from the alley. “Is there another way out?”
“How would I know?”
“Did you not just commune with Hecate? What did she show you?”
“It’s complicated. I’m still processing.”
Another thunk sounded from the front. More glass shattered. Something splatted onto the floor. An imp chittered, its reedy voice grating in my ears before three more hit the floor. They charged down the hallway toward us, screeching like the animals they were.
I held up my hand. “Stop. Obey your prince.”
They froze, their gazes cutting toward each other as they attempted to comprehend my order. “Priiiiince…?” one of them uttered, tilting his head like a hellhound who’d just heard a banshee scream.
“You will obey my command.” I pointed at each of them. The first three trembled. The fourth let out a green cloud of foul-smelling gas from his backside before scratching his ass.
“Looks like some still recognize your authority.” Cinder stood beside me, rocking from foot to foot and clutching a knife.
“Imps are the lowest level of bipedal demons in the realm. Their brains are the size of pebbles, and they will follow any demon’s orders as long as they are fed.”
“I know a few humans like that. How do we kill them?”
“There’s no need. They will do as I say.” The moment I uttered the final word, the front door splintered with a thunderous crack.
Ducking his torso to fit through the threshold, the centaur charged into the house, his crossbow drawn, an arrow already notched. The imps turned, focusing their bulbous eyes on the source of the disturbance.
The centaur released his first arrow. I shoved Cinder into the bedroom, and the razor-sharp tip clipped my shoulder. He had already notched another arrow by the time blood pooled in my wound.
The centaur surveyed the chaos—shattered glass, impish bodies, the stink of sulfur hanging thick in the air.
His hooves gouged deep furrows in the stone as he halted, his gaze fixed on me, an arrow aimed at my chest. He was armored in battered bronze, his chest plate etched with runes that shimmered in the dim light.
“Attack!” he barked, his voice echoing off the walls with the authority of someone accustomed to obedience. But the imps didn’t move.
“Priiiinnnce…” the flatulent one muttered, pointing at me.
“Prince?” The centaur’s eyes narrowed as he focused on my face. “Discord,” he grumbled and returned the crossbow to his back, exchanging it for a long blade. “I’ll have your head.”
“Why?” Cinder joined me in the hall, crossing her arms and jutting her hip to the side in a defiant posture. “Lucifer doesn’t want a horse’s ass by his side. You’ve got nothing to gain.”
His nostrils flared. “Perhaps I’m after a different kind of reward. One where you remain alive, enslaved to me for eternity.”
My rational mind shut down once again, primal instinct taking control at his threat, and I lunged toward him, plunging the knife into the exposed skin beneath his breastplate.
I sank the blade so deep that half the handle disappeared into his flesh.
He wailed and reared back onto his hind legs, his front hoof connecting with my head.
Splitting pain exploded in my skull. I threw the canned meat at a joint in his back leg, dislocating it. He screamed and stumbled, but his remaining three legs kept him upright.
“Wahoo!” an imp yelled, and all four scrambled toward the centaur, climbing onto his back and sinking their pointy teeth into his flesh.
He spun, his backend knocking over a cabinet as he bucked wildly, desperate to dislodge his tormentors.
The imps clung to him, howling with manic delight.
One gnawed on his shoulder while another latched onto his armor, scratching at the runes etched into the battered metal.
A third imp scrambled up his back, yanking two arrows from his quiver before jumping off, shouting, “impetus!” and driving them both into the centaur’s flank.
His back leg gave out, his ass slamming onto the floor, cracking the stone as his front legs slipped out from under him and he fell onto his side.
“Must be nice to have your own minions.” Cinder charged and sank her blade into the centaur’s side.
“Kill the prince,” he bellowed as his sword clattered to the ground.
Cinder snatched it, raising it above her head, ready to decapitate our foe, when a massive demon…a spine ripper…barreled through the door and grabbed her by the neck.