Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Seraphina
Al wasn’t resisting, which meant something was terribly wrong. After ten minutes of tugging him down hallways, his crushing weight lay across her shoulders. She threw open the door to her room and dumped him atop the red velvet comforter on one side of the bed.
Snik jumped up yipping, and as delighted as Sera was to see her green friend, Al needed help.
“Do not touch him,” she instructed the goblin. The last thing he needed was Snik’s little demon hands all over him. “Al, why aren’t you healing?”
He mumbled something she couldn’t understand. Sweat soaked his shirt. Sera made quick work of the buttons down the front and did her best to peel it off him. She wasn’t a healer; he needed to do that himself. But the amount of magic he’d already used that day…
Panic clawed at her chest as she slid off his boots and socks.
Sera lowered herself to her knees and inspected his side.
The cut was raw but seemed clean; she didn’t see anything too concerning.
Sera pressed lightly around it, causing Alistair to hiss.
Then, right before she pressed again, something wriggled under his skin.
“What in Shadow’s name…” Snik whined and poked Al with his claw. “I said, don’t touch him.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Where can I place this for you?”
She jumped. “Lord Vasso! I’m sorry. I thought you were a servant.” Vasso cocked a brow at her and tilted his head in a predatory way, looking from a half-naked Alistair to her. She cleared her throat. “I just figured a servant would put our meals down and leave. I didn’t expect it to be you.”
Vasso placed the tray on the writing desk. “Seems the famed Mesar has a weakness.”
Her darkness paced inside her. Vasso was utterly unbothered, hands in his pockets, the delicate cut of his jacket lying perfectly on his frame. And that tilt of a smile mocked her. “Do you have a healer?” she burst out.
Al groaned, but she ignored him.
“I know a thing or two about healing.”
Sera squinted at the lord, and his smile grew. She couldn’t help but feel they were sparring on another plane, as if he were daring her to slip, to show her magic in front of Al. Daring her to lash out at him, brand him with another scar. “Will you help him?”
He chuckled. “Why would I want to heal a monster who’s been slaying my kind? A famed one, at that.”
“You almost sound in awe of him.”
He crossed his arms then and raised a brow at Al, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Vasso’s gray eyes flashed red but settled once again when his gaze moved back to hers. “You mistake my ire for awe.”
“What do you want?” It was a dangerous move. She knew it, and worse, so did he.
“Who says I want anything?”
“A demon is always open for a bargain, is he not?” She stood at the foot of the bed. Snik whined and hid behind the skirt of her dress.
“I don’t think you know what you’re asking.” Lord Vasso leaned forward, and a strand of white hair fell on his forehead. “That could put you in a very dangerous position, one I don’t think Mister Mesar over there would want you to be in.”
She looked at Al. His skin was a deathly hue against the red duvet. One arm hung off the bed, sweat beaded his broad chest, and his side, moons, his side…
“I’ll chance it.”
“Excellent.” Vasso crossed the room in a few strides and approached Al. The demon knelt and poked gingerly at the swollen skin, leaving purple welts wherever his fingers touched.
“Do we shake or something?”
“We can square up after this is finished. He is close to dead already, and I’d hate to miss the opportunity to call in a favor.”
Vasso prodded the swelling until the wriggling mass appeared again. Sera knelt beside him. “Please tell me that isn’t a worm.”
“Not so much a worm as a magic-eating parasite. They live under the claws of the agbris—a vicious beast with long talons and sharp teeth who hides itself behind an animal skull.”
“That sounds like what was chasing us.” Sera dared to look closer at the parasite, and Snik whined again.
“Care to remove yourself from my light?”
Sera huffed and backed away, scooping Snik into her arms. She paced. What more could she do? It was foolish—more than foolish; outright idiotic—that she’d make a bargain with him, but what other choice did she have? Letting Alistair die was not an option.
“I can help him, but it’s going to hurt.”
“No.” Al’s raw voice barely escaped his windpipe.
“Can you give us a minute?” she asked Vasso.
“Don’t take too long, I may change my mind.”
The demon lord took his time, his hands still in his pockets and that strand of hair drifting over his forehead. In one motion, he swept it back and then left.
“Al, you’re dying. And I know you don’t want him to touch you.
I can see how much it hurts. But if you don’t let him try, you’ll die.
” Her voice cracked as she stared into his blue eyes, glassy with fever.
“Let him help you, Al. I can’t do this alone.
” He stared at her. And she pushed back a curl of dark brown hair. “Please…”
When he made the slightest nod of agreement, she released a breath. She wasn’t lying. She couldn’t do this without him. As much as that made her a coward, she didn’t care.
“Lord Vasso,” Sera called out. The demon lazily walked in, his hands still deep in his pockets, looking completely unbothered. She motioned to Alistair. “Go ahead.” Sera stayed at Al’s head, taking his gloved hand in hers.
“Say no more.” He grinned and slipped out of his jacket. As he crossed the room, he rolled both sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his defined forearms. The red skull ring mocked her as Vasso held his hand above Alistair’s side.
A trickle of magic leaked from his palm, dripping like ink into a glass of water as it fell from him, black and smoky. Sera’s stomach dropped as she watched the magic work. The mist encircled the wound.
Alistair cried out, gripping her hand so tight she was pretty sure he’d break one of her fingers. But Sera was transfixed by the darkness that leaked from Vasso’s hand.
It looked like… hers.
Hello… Her magic called to her, surging to her palms, making them itch something fierce. Sera ripped her hand from Al’s and watched.
It couldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t believe it.
The mist formed under Vasso’s instruction. Once the wound was completely encircled, Vasso hooked his finger, and a sharp talon shot out from his nail bed.
“Hold him,” Vasso said to her.
Getting to her feet, Sera planted both hands on his shoulders, and Al screamed. With one quick swipe, Vasso sliced into Al’s side and pulled out the wriggling thing.
Blood spilled onto the floor, and the stench… Sera choked. It smelled as if the wound had been festering for months. Sera didn’t care what Vasso said. It looked like a worm; it moved like one.
“Let go of me,” Al said through gritted teeth.
“I’m so sorry,” she said and pulled away, leaving behind blistered handprints.
Vasso’s lip curled with disgust as he observed the parasite hanging from his claw. Then a spark shot out of his finger, igniting the thing… in black flame.
Sera’s blood hummed, the darkness just under the surface now, and she envisioned that cage wrapped tight around it. Shadow, save her… It was the same. She knew in the marrow of her bones that it was. That they somehow shared magic. That she embodied the same magic as a demon lord.
“You all right?” Vasso asked her. His gaze pierced her, and something pulled taut in her chest.
Sera blew out a shaky breath. “I’m fine.” She hovered her hand over Al. “He’s cooling already. Thank you.”
The lord’s face was perplexed. He stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. But before he left, he said, “When you’re done here… you’re to meet me to discuss terms.” With that, he left.
What had she done? This… Everything. Moons, she was so fucked. Al was alive, but she and Vasso had the same magic. Her… she… Her mind swam with fragments of disbelief. She ran to the bathing chamber and splashed cool water on her face.
She had little to offer him. Her barrier magic was nonexistent. She could distort the truth, explain that she was weak and didn’t carry much witch magic at all.
He can teach you. Use us. We want to be used.
Now that was a thought. If he could teach her how to wield, or at the very least be consistent with her magic, help her contain it…
Snik picked at the food-filled plates. The goblin looked as if he was afraid he’d be scolded, but she didn’t care. She was happy he was alive, that they all were.
“Have your fill,” she whispered.
“Is he eating my dinner now too?” Al’s voice was weak, but she’d never been so happy to hear his sarcastic tone.
“You scared me,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better than I was.” He tried to sit up. “I thought I was going to pass out face-first in the bisque.”
“You almost did.” She sat on the other side of the bed.
“What price did he ask for?”
Sera stiffened. She glanced at his side, then back up to his face. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Minnow.” Al coughed, then winced. “What did he ask of you?”
Sera pulled the blanket from under him and laid it on top.
“Tell me…” His voice was deadly quiet, and violence raged in his eyes.
“I’m going to find that out once you’re feeling better.”
Al shot a blast of healing magic into his side. “I’m going to kill him,” he said, attempting to rise.
“Lay back down, you stubborn brute. I made the deal, not you. This is my burden to bear, and I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times to save you.”
He grew quiet, his features softening as he lay back down. “Promise me… if it’s too much, you’ll let me take it.”
She barked a laugh at that. “The Mesar owing a demon lord a favor? I’m pretty sure that would be a first.”
“Promise me, Minnow.”
Sera stared at him. His jaw clenched tight, the linens bunching in his hands. He was serious. He’d take it for her, and… and what was she to do with that? He was the Mesar, and if he broke the bargain, then the great demon butcher would be indebted to a demon lord.
Al shifted. She watched a wave of pain go through him as he hit his side again with another blast of healing.
“I promise.”
That seemed to appease him. He lay back down, closing his eyes.
Sera watched the rise and fall of his chest slow. The tension fell from his face and shoulders as he fell into slumber.
She ached to be closer, to be held in his arms. But Vasso’s magic, that darkness… Her handprints were still visible on his shoulders from where she’d held him.
It wasn’t Snik.
It was her.
And although she felt safe beside him, even in enemy territory, only one question came to her mind: Was he safe with her?