Chapter 11
“Dimitri!”
Omen’s voice ricochets around my head, leaving my ears ringing.
I mask my confusion with a grin when I spot Clara.
The last thing I want to do is scare her.
Being a witch in Hell isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
Throw in she’s shacking up with Omen and I feel for her.
Omen was my roommate way back when, and I almost threw him off a cliff.
She doesn’t seem any worse for wear. Her spell sickness appears to have resolved itself, though there are still dark rings under her eyes.
“Hey, Clara. Nice to see you’re still in Hell.” I turn to Omen and my eyes widen. “Uh, why do you have a dragon egg? And how the fuck did you get it away from the horde?”
“It was just sitting in the coals. I just grabbed it. She needs eggs.” He gestures to Clara, and I take in the dough covering her hands. “Not this egg. Like, squawking eggs.”
“Chicken,” Clara says in amusement.
“I know, but they squawk. Funny little fuckers.”
I press my lips together. I’m not about to bring up the time a flock of chickens attacked him when we were sent on assignment to another dimension. He had pinpricks all over his arms for a week afterward. From the hardness in his eyes when he glances at me, I should keep my mouth shut.
“Perhaps you should take the dragons back their egg. I’ll keep Clara company.” I lean against the counter. Twin flames flare to life in his dark eyes, and I suppress a chuckle. It’s so easy to rile him up.
“The fuck you will. Get your own witch,” Omen snarls, shoving the egg into my chest. “Take this back and get us the right egg.”
His words send a chill down my spine. An image of Mari pops into my head before I can stop it.
She’s not my witch and I doubt she will be anytime soon, if at all.
I thought we were getting somewhere in the kitchen.
At least, I was trying to get somewhere.
Instead, I got thrown into the void. The more it happens, the more it’s like being sucked through a straw.
My body can’t take much more. Eventually, my magic will bottom out and I’ll be defenseless—useless.
“Please and thank you, Dimitri,” Clara says softly, not quite a reprimand for Omen, but close enough.
He doesn’t care if he snaps at me because I don’t give a shit.
Her? Yeah, he’ll think twice then. We’ve lived together for so long I don’t take him too seriously, and he puts up with my erratic ways.
It works for us most of the time. If he starts in on Clara despite his better nature, we might have problems. It has nothing to do with another witch I’ve recently met either.
Pain shoots through my temples at the thought of Mari, and my magic rears up. I turn to Clara. “Fine. But I’m doing this for you because you’re actually nice to me. And you have manners.”
I snatch up the egg I dropped on the counter and step into the void, leaving thunder in my wake.
I don’t have time to take the dragon spawn back.
Getting the chicken egg is more important.
No use interrupting Omen and Clara when they inevitably make up.
I’ll deliver the iridescent one back to the horde after.
I tuck it into my pocket for safekeeping.
With a little magic, the egg fits perfectly.
The tough exterior should keep it from being smashed. Hopefully.
It doesn’t take me long to step into the dimension Omen got attacked in. It’s on the same plane as Hell and doesn’t expel enough energy to send my magic into a tailspin. If I get yanked topside again, though, it’ll be one helluva storm. I’ve never been so lopsided in my travels.
I drop right into Omen’s kitchen, declaring, “Got it.”
Omen grabs at Clara as if I’ll whisk her away to the netherland or something. I roll my eyes as she hops down and takes the eggs with a thanks. I open my mouth to say something to cut the tension when Omen latches onto my arm and yanks me from the room.
“Hey, hands off the merchandise. This shirt cost me a kidney,” I grumble as he pulls me into his tiny-ass backyard.
I kept telling him he should have a greenhouse back here.
It’s close enough to the lava geysers to be the perfect environment for potatoes.
Then he could make me fries. Not that he knows how to cook, but that’s neither here nor there.
Now that Clara’s here, maybe she’ll make me more.
“What in the fuck is going on with you?” he demands, crossing his arms as fire licks up his arms and sets his hair ablaze.
“Projection much? I’m perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, had better get your shit together.”
He sighs, glancing away. “We’ve known each other a long time, Dimitri. You think I didn’t notice your little display when you left? It’s either incredibly childish or completely unintentional. Explain. Now.”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Told you I was cursed. Nothing to do with nothing. It’s fine. I’m getting it sorted.”
“How, exactly? Because the last time I checked, it’s been a long time since a demon was cursed.
It’s more likely you’re getting punished for…
something. What’d you do? Did you rig Ludo’s room to play bagpipes again?
Or fuck with the Fates down in Underworld?
You know how they hate that.” He huffs as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, you didn’t link dimensions again so they’d all have electrical storms every thirteen minutes, did you? ”
I sigh with a grin. “Ah, those were good times. But no. Sadly, I haven’t done anything other than help Triton with the newbies, run interference for you with Ludo, and be sent topside every other hour. Other than that, I ain’t done nothin’, I swear.”
He doesn’t buy my act. He gives me a stern look and his nostrils flare. I brace myself for the lecture or the yelling. I’m never quite sure what I’ll get with Omen. He’s got a short fuse, and his patience lasts about seven minutes before he’s done. Instead, his brows pull low.
“As someone who just went through the pain of hopping dimensions with no recharge in between, I know you’ve got to be running on empty. If you keep going—”
“I’m not going anyway. It’s not like I have a choice.
Hell, half the time I was up there was spent in a godsdamn closet, Omen.
This isn’t a case of summoning. The universe is just knocking me around.
Something’ll give soon, and I’ll be fine.
You just worry about what you’re going to do with your little witch. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a—”
My stomach lurches, but I’m already in the void.
I crumple to the floor in front of Mari and groan.
She screams a curse at me, and my hearing goes out.
There’s a slight hum, yet nothing else. I stare up at her from my back, unable to move my limbs.
It takes me a minute to realize she’s on her knees, tears streaming down her blotchy face.
I croak out what I think is a question, but I’m pretty sure it’s just grunts. Whatever happened between now and when Omen called, it wasn’t good. I roll my eyes around the room and take in the destruction.
Was she robbed? Attacked? Punished because of my presence?
Storm clouds gather on the ceiling, and I inhale deeply through my nose.
I still can’t move, but my magic can. Flickers of lightning dance within the shrouded darkness.
When rain splatters across my face, I squeeze my eyes shut.
I couldn’t stop this if I wanted to. And I desperately want to.
Flooding Mari’s house will only add more bullshit to her plate.
A crack of thunder has her flinching. She throws her body over mine, though I don’t know why.
I forget how much she doesn’t know about demons.
Clearly, she has no idea this is all me.
The storm can’t hurt me. I could swim through an electrified pond with no repercussions. She, on the other hand, could die.
My fingertips prickle, the sensation traveling slowly up my arms. Wind whips around the room, sending her hair flying.
Her scent washes over me, and I groan internally.
I need to break this curse if only to keep her away from me.
She’s temptation wrapped in a prickly exterior.
If I keep getting thrown in her path, I don’t know where things will lead.
While I don’t have the same reservations as Omen about witches, Mari doesn’t want to even associate with me, much less do anything else.
Bitterness crashes into me, and the rain stops, the wind dies away, and the lightning fizzles out.
Black clouds laced with purple roil overhead.
The thunder rumbles constantly. I can’t turn everything off at once.
I don’t really know if I want to. It’s comforting in a way little else is.
Too often my mind takes off, never allowing me a moment’s peace.
The calming presence of a storm gives my thoughts breathing room. It allows me to think—to just be.
Mari’s nails dig into my side. The small bite of pain allows logic to sneak back in. I can’t leave her to be hurt merely because I find the circumstances calming.
I pull in a deep breath and focus on the strand of magic careening inside me.
Seizing it with my mind isn’t easy, and I lose my grip on the rain.
Mari’s voice filters through the low hum, and I can finally make out her muttered curse.
Or maybe it’s a spell. Either way, there’s a lot of fucks thrown in.
She sits back and stares at the ceiling.
Somehow she’s created a shield between us and the wetness.
At least her house won’t flood now. An ache blooms in my chest, but I can finally move my arms. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and concentrate on pulling the magic back.
Loud pops echo through the space, but I refuse to look until every last piece is contained within me.
Silence blankets the room. Not even my harsh breath can be heard.
I don’t know if Mari fled. She should if she hasn’t.
I open my mouth to tell her to go, yet nothing comes out.
Electricity coalesces within my gut, forming a ball of magic that spits and sparks.
I won’t be able to hold it back for long before I need to expel some.
“Mari,” I croak as pins and needles shoot up my legs.
I drop my hands to peek at the damage I caused, and I’m met with total blackness. No moon. No sun. No lights. We must be in the deepest part of the night. Exhaling gently, I loosen the tiniest bit of magic and let it illuminate the room. It takes me longer than it should to sit up.
If I thought the place looked destroyed before, it’s nothing like it is now. I wince, both at the tightness of my muscles and the mess I caused.
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” I say, then glance toward where I last saw her.
My heart stops.
Sprawled across the floor with purple strands covering her face is Mari.
And she isn’t moving. I thought she ran.
It would’ve been the smart thing to do. I shake off the shock and rush to her side.
Gently, I roll her over and breathe a sigh of relief when her chest rises and falls shallowly.
Humans have pulses, but I have no idea how to check them.
“Fuck,” I snarl.
Her skin shimmers as a web of electricity covers her. I don’t know how to help her. Now would be a great time for my curse to work in my favor. I could whisk her off to Hell and find someone to wake her up.
Clara. She’s a witch. She’d know what to do. Except I can’t leave this plane without a path through the void. My hands hover over her, indecision rendering me useless.
“Come on, spitfire,” I whisper, my fingers brushing hers.
Her eyes fly open with a gasp. I jolt away as her back arches, a strangled cry leaving her. Her gaze snaps to mine, rage flaring to life, and I hold up my hands in surrender.
“Bastard,” she spits out. “Fucking demons.”
“I didn’t—”
“I don’t give a fuck.” She struggles upright and shoves her hair from her face.
“It wasn’t—”
“It never is!” Sparks fly from her fingers as she waves them around, though she doesn’t seem to notice. “You keep popping up at the most inconvenient times. As if I don’t have enough going on.”
I wince, realizing how much I’ve disrupted her life. “You could—”
“Oh no,” she snaps and pushes to her feet. She sways and I reach out to steady her. She slaps my hand away, and a shockwave skitters down my veins.
“Spitfire,” I plead from my knees.
“No. I refuse to do anything else for you. I was perfectly content cleaning out the closet. You made it rain. Do you know how sca—fuck.” She picks up a small green book and brushes off the cover.
I swallow hard and take in the space again. Everything I thought was destruction is merely some spring cleaning. Not that it’s spring. I’m pretty sure it’s summer right now. Or maybe autumn. I can never keep track of the seasons up here.
“Are you even paying attention? For fuck’s sake. The least you can do is get up and help me clean.” She plants her hands on her hips in front of me. When I nod, she holds up a hand. “Wait.”
Her mouth twitches, and I brace myself for more yelling. I’m surprised she’s so riled after practically dying. I’m pretty sure I sucked all the magic from her soul. It’ll be a minute before she’s replenished enough to even light a candle, much less throw up another shield.
“What are we waiting for?”
Her eyes darken and she smirks. “I kind of like you on your knees.”