Chapter 13 Cinder
CINDER
My stomach felt like a pit. Like a soup pot filled with simmering bile, and someone had dumped a gargantuan-sized bag of the sourest candy imaginable into the acrid stew and was stirring it with a ladle made of wormwood.
Patrice…? Of all the people in all the world, I never could have imagined Patrice would be the villain in my family’s tale.
No, that wasn’t fair.
Her story sounded sincere. I really, really wanted to believe she’d enlisted Chrys’s help when I disappeared and that, despite the giant clusterfudge this had become, she truly was trying to help. But damn…
That meant my road to Hell really was paved with her good intentions.
Ash groaned, drawing me from my thoughts.
“Miles, Shade, watch her.” I pointed at our healer.
“On it.” Shade crossed his arms, widening his stance, and Miles retrieved the spell bottles that had scattered across the floor when Patrice dropped her bag.
“Now. We must do it now.” Chaos’s voice sounded commanding and frantic at the same time, the bond he shared with Ash giving him laser focus.
The demons stood in a circle around my little sister. They joined hands, and hellfire crackled around them, their low, buzzing energy building, thickening the atmosphere in the room.
Ember clutched my hand, and we stood there, Mom, myself, and Em, helpless, yet full of hope. We’d done our part. We’d freed the demons and found the amulet, and now all we could do was watch and wait.
The guys’ voices sounded like gravel, low and rumbling, as they spoke in their demonic language. The energy built and built, stuffing the room like cotton, making sweat bead on my forehead.
Discord glanced at me, his expression a warning that things were about to get spicy, and my chest both warmed and ached. He’d nearly lost himself when Patrice came into the room. Centuries of spite and hatred had almost resulted in an act of revenge that would have destroyed us.
But he’d maintained control. Not only that, but he’d tempered his brothers’ rage as well. A thousand emotions washed through me: relief, pride, love, adoration. But my moment of reprieve was short-lived.
The demons focused their energy into Ash. Her eyes flew open, and the most blood-curdling scream I had ever heard ripped from her lungs. She writhed on the floor, clutching her chest and clawing at her shirt as if it were choking her.
Her eyes rolled back until only the whites remained visible, and foamy spit collected on the corners of her mouth. She gasped and screamed again, sounding more animal than witch, and dug her nails into the floor, leaving blood and gashes in their wake.
“Stop!” she ground out before another scream tore from her throat.
The demons ignored her pleas, focusing more magic into her. She flipped onto her back, her spine arching unnaturally, like a horror movie exorcism going very, very wrong.
“They’re hurting her,” Mom said, her voice shrill.
“We have to stop them,” Ember said.
I released their hands and grabbed Discord’s biceps. “You have to stop. You’re killing her.”
“We’re not,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You are. Look at her, please!” I tugged his arm.
“She’s right. I can’t do this to her.” Chaos dropped his brothers’ hands. “There has to be another way.”
Ash dragged in a ragged breath, the tension in her muscles releasing. Her head lolled to the side, and she stared blankly at our feet.
“My baby!” Mom rushed toward her, but Discord blocked her path.
“Do not touch her,” he said, “or the curse will jump to you.”
“I’m not letting her stay like this!” Mom shrieked, her voice cracking as she strained against Discord’s grip. “She’s my daughter! If the curse wants someone to burn, let it be me!”
“It doesn’t work that way, Scorsha.” Discord’s voice dropped an octave, vibrating with a frequency that finally made Mom go still. “The curse doesn’t want a host. It wants a conclusion. If you touch her, you won’t save her; you’ll just absorb the malice, creating two vessels instead of one.”
I stepped between them, my heart hammering against my ribs like the wings of a trapped bird. Ash looked…hollow. The color had receded from her skin, and the silence coming from her now was more terrifying than the screaming before.
“Discord.” My voice trembled. “You said you could save her. You promised.”
He looked from Ash to his brothers. Chaos was a wreck, his hands shaking, his gaze fixed on Ash with a level of agony that made my own chest ache. Mayhem stood back, his violet eyes flickering, his energy still humming with the need to destroy something.
“The counter-curse is based on pure demonic resonance.” Discord shifted his gaze toward the library door where Patrice stood, guarded by Shade and Miles. “But this curse wasn't just made of our magic. It was anchored by Isabel’s spite. It was forged in her blood.”
Chaos’s head snapped up. “Like for like.”
“Exactly.” Discord turned fully toward Patrice. She looked small, her face a mask of tear-streaked terror, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. Resignation.
“The frequency inside her,” he continued, his green eyes narrowing. “It’s the same key that locked the door. We’ve been trying to kick it down with brute force, and all we’re doing is crushing the person inside. We don't need a battering ram. We need the key.”
I looked at our healer cowering between my friends. I couldn’t fathom everything my sisters…this coven…had gone through in my absence. I didn’t yet know the extent of the damage she had caused, but I did know one thing.
She was the reason Chrys was dead. She’d given her the amulet. She was the reason their world had turned into a nightmare in my absence. But she was also the only one who could end it.
I walked toward her, and Shade and Miles stepped aside, their expressions grim.
She didn’t flinch as I approached. She just waited, unable to meet my gaze. “Blood magic is forbidden,” she said. “The Higher Power will condemn us all.”
It was a little late for that argument. Going to Hell, summoning demons, and binding your souls to theirs were at the top of the Higher Power’s “no can do” list. Adding a little more blood magic to the mix wouldn’t make a difference.
“You said you’d do anything.” My voice sounded cold. “You said you wanted to fix what your family started.”
“I do,” she whispered.
“Then we need to spill your blood.” I didn't sugarcoat it, didn’t lace it with magic.
I shouldn’t need to persuade her to stop the vicious cycle her ancestor had set into motion.
“Isabel used her blood to bind these men and curse my family for four hundred years. Now, you’re going to use yours to set us free.
You owe us that much, Patrice. You owe it to Ash, to Ember, and to me.
But mostly, you owe it to the people who didn’t make it. ”
Patrice swallowed hard. She looked at the floor, at her bag Miles had set on the counter, and finally back at me. Resolve replaced the fear in her eyes as she straightened her spine and nodded. “Tell me what to do.”
“Bring her here,” Discord said.
I guided her to the center of the library, positioning her just outside the circle the three demons were forming around Ash.
“Join hands,” Discord told his brothers.
Mayhem and Chaos gripped Discord’s hands, and the air in the room thickened instantly. Heat radiated from their bodies, the sulfurous scent of hellfire permeating our senses as they began the ritual again.
“Patrice,” Discord said. “The blood must be fresh. It must be offered willingly.”
“How…” She cleared her throat. “How much do you need?”
“We will have to wait and see,” my demon said, and Ember handed her a dagger.
Patrice inhaled deeply, whispering a prayer before pressing the blade into her palm and slicing her skin. A thin, red line appeared, and she held her hand over my little sister, lying motionless on the floor.
“Now!” Discord said.
The demons began to chant, not the rhythmic Latin my sisters and I used, but a guttural, ancient sound that seemed to vibrate in my very marrow. Purple, green, and black energy erupted from them, swirling together into a vortex that centered on Ash.
Blood dripped from Patrice’s hand, onto Ash’s forehead, where it hissed and sizzled, turning into a bright, golden steam that rose to meet the demonic energy.
Ash’s body jerked. Her eyes flew open again, glowing with a terrifying, sickly yellow light. She screamed, but this time, the sound didn't come from her throat. It came from the air around her.
“It’s resisting,” Chaos shouted, his face contorting as he fought to keep his grip on his brothers.
“Don’t let go.” Discord’s muscles bulged, his demonic form flickering through his human skin—claws, horns, and those fierce green eyes. “We need more blood. Isabel’s hatred was too strong.”
Patrice squeezed her fist, and more blood splashed onto Ash.
“More,” Chaos commanded. “You will not let my soulmate die.”
Patrice whimpered and sliced the blade across her other palm, deeper this time. Blood gushed from the wound, spurting with each rapid beat of her heart. She swayed on her feet, stumbling before widening her stance and holding both hands above Ash.
“I renounce it!” she shouted, her blood pouring onto my sister and turning to golden smoke.
“I reject Isabel’s spite and that of her descendants.
I shoulder the burden of my ancestors and agree to pay the price to save this family.
In the name of the goddess, I break this curse… now and forevermore.”
The room exploded in a kaleidoscope of light.
I shielded my eyes, but I couldn't look away. I saw the curse—a physical thing, a black, oily shadow—lifting off Ash’s skin.
It fought, coiling like a serpent, trying to dive back into her chest, but the golden mist of Patrice’s blood acted like a net, tangling it, pulling it upward.
The demons channeled everything they had. The floorboards groaned, and the remaining glass in the library—the few intact picture frames on the walls—shattered into dust.
With one final, eardrum-bursting roar from Discord, they ripped the black shadow free. It let out a sound like a dying gale, slamming into the ceiling and evaporating into nothingness.
The silence that followed was so deafening it made my ears pop.
“Ash.” Mom’s voice cut through the room, and she raced toward my sister.
Chaos beat her to it, dropping to the floor and pulling Ash into his arms. Mom grabbed her hand as he rocked her, tears rolling down both their faces, and Discord wrapped his arms around me, his exhaustion palpable.
“Ash? Ash, please,” Chaos whispered, his voice cracking.
Ember clutched Mayhem’s arm, and Patrice dropped to her knees, clasping her bloody hands over her chest. We all held our collective breaths as Ash’s chest rose and then fell…rose and fell.
Then, she let out a long, ragged cough. Her eyes flicked open, hazel…beautiful, clear, hazel. She looked up at her demon, her brows knitting together in that classic Ash look of confusion and irritation.
“Chaos?” she croaked.
“I’m here,” he said, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.
I tightened my arms around Discord’s waist, my heart threatening to explode with love and relief. “Is that it? We’ve broken the curse?”
“Indeed, we have, my love.” Discord kissed my temple.
“And you went to Hell and back to make it happen,” Ember said.
Ash blinked, looking around at the charred library, the foam-covered bookshelves, and the small army of people staring at her. “Did I…” She gasped, her fingers covering her lips. “Did I burn down the library?”
I let out a sob-laugh. “Just a few shelves, Ash. Nothing we can’t replace.”
“Good,” she whispered. “Because I really…really want to go to bed.” Her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted into a natural, peaceful sleep.
Chaos gathered her into his arms, holding her with a tenderness that made my heart ache, and I pulled back to look at my demon. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, his power spent, but he inhaled deeply and straightened, a sense of pride glinting in his mossy green eyes.
We hadn’t just broken a curse. We’d broken the cycle. No more witches had to die because of Isabel’s hatred.
“We did it,” I whispered.
“We make a good team,” he said.
Miles sank onto the floor next to Patrice and spread a salve onto her palms. Shade handed him a roll of gauze, and as Miles wrapped her hands, she looked at me, a strange mix of relief and sorrow on her face.
She’d saved Ash, but the weight of what her family had done—and what she had hidden—still hung heavy in the air.
This wasn't a "happily ever after" kind of ending. Not yet.
There was still the matter of my father trapped in Hell, of mending the veil…and of what would happen to our demons when we did.