CHAPTER 50

Holy Goddess. Demons.

Those ravaged bodies out in the woods were the work of demons.

That’s my fate and Memnon’s unless I can escape this fucking spell circle.

Memnon! I call out to him, more desperate than ever. Wake up! I nearly weep out the command.

But the other end of the bond stays placid. The sorcerer is still asleep.

My mind races. I have minutes until midnight to figure out some sort of game plan.

Unfortunately, I don’t know much about demons. They’ve always been slotted in with the dark magic shit that witches aren’t supposed to trifle with. Not reading about them has probably fucked me over.

“Why are you summoning demons?” I ask.

Luca tilts his head. “We’re not simply summoning them,” the sorcerer admits. “We’re binding them.”

“Binding them?” I echo. Even as I say it, the Fortunas’ entire industry becomes clear, and my blood runs cold.

They’re in the business of trafficking supernaturals. I assumed that was limited to those of us who were of this realm, but it’s clearly not. They’re moving demons too.

My eyes touch briefly on the somewhat anxious-looking scholar. That…that must be Luca’s client, the one who is buying this demon’s bond.

“If this is about binding demons,” I say slowly, returning my attention to Luca, “then what do you need me for?”

“Demons are different from mortals,” Luca replies, backing up. “They need to feed once they come here if they wish to remain.” His eyes skate over my form. “They like the young ones in particular. Something about their innocence and vitality makes them taste richer, sweeter. We use that to get the demons to bond.”

I vividly recall the body of Charlotte Evensen. It had been badly mutilated, and all her organs had been removed…

No, eaten.

Nausea rolls through me.

I glance down at the cut on my own chest, the bloody wound making much more sense now. Like throwing bleeding bait overboard in hopes it will lure in a shark.

I force my rising terror down.

Focus.

I’m not going to die tonight. Not like this.

On impulse, I reach for my heels and remove them, tossing one then the other aside so I can be light on my feet. I try not to grimace as the chill from the floor seeps into my skin.

Next, I turn to the walls of my prison. Spell circles like this one, which has been activated in blood, are notoriously hard for anyone but the spellcaster to undo.

However, at the end of the day, a spell circle is nothing more than a really strong ward. Wards themselves are essentially giant tapestries, and like tapestries, they can be unraveled if one knows where to pull.

I look for the telltale magical signature, but if it’s there, it’s just as translucent as the rest of the circle’s walls.

Luca glances down at a fancy gold watch on his wrist. “It’s about time we begin.” he says to the older man. “Are you ready, Jacques?”

“Yes,” Jacques replies, his eyes alight with excitement.

“Good,” Luca says. With a final, heavy look at me, the sorcerer begins incanting in Latin again.

“From the infernal fires of hell, I call forth Asmodeth, devourer of the damned, reveler of the anguished. Curse weaver and soul eater. Rise within the circle I have cast.”

The air smokes, then sizzles. Noxious plumes rise from the ground. Rather than dissipating into the air, it begins to shape itself into the form of a man.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The curling black smoke coalesces.

On the other end of my bond, I feel the spark of awareness.

Selene! Memnon bellows down our bond. It’s his first thought.

Memnon, forget about me. They’re summoning demons, I rush out. We’re about to fight for our lives.

It’s quiet for a long, pensive moment. How do you know this? he finally asks.

I’m trapped in a demon-summoning circle. After a moment, I add, Aren’t you?

Rather than answering, the floor begins to tremble, and I can feel the burn of Memnon’s rapidly growing rage.

Memnon, do not give whoever is there with you another reason to knock you out, I beg him. I will be all right. Stay safe. I need to go.

I pull away before he can say more, and I ready my magic. For this fight, I’ll need all my attention to remain on my opponent.

The demon is now less dark smoke and more flesh and bone, the magic solidifying into body parts. I study the creature’s features as they take shape.

I’ve heard that some demons are truly hideous looking, with forked serpent tongues, razor-sharp teeth, and slitted noses, but this one looks like a man, and a handsome one at that—if you can get past his sharpened claws, the horizontal pupils at the centers of his eyes, and the wicked horns that curve away from his face. He’s also as naked as the day he was born—or formed or damned or however the hell demons are created.

“Asmodeth,” Luca says, “I offer this witch to you as a sign of my good will.”

The demon takes a step toward me, his nostril’s flaring.

“But be warned. It comes at a price. With the first swallow of her blood, you bind your body and will to Jacques Allard. You will roam the earth, deathless and unchanging for the span of this mortal’s lifetime. Upon Jacques’s death, the bond shall be severed, and you shall return to the Underworld.

“You have until the rise of the sun to make your decision, or else you shall be banished back to the fiery realm from whence you came.”

Asmodeth turns from me and levels a look at the men standing there. “I want a soul. Only that will do.”

“You shall only get a body,” Luca says smoothly.

Asmodeth’s laughter fills the space, raising the hairs at the nape of my neck. “Insolent human. Do you have any concept of who I am?”

As he speaks, his head keeps drifting in my direction, and his nostrils continue to flare, like he’s distracted by the smell of me.

Because he wants to eat me.

Fuck, do I attack him? Do I let this play out? Do I and the demon enter into an unholy pact where we become reluctant allies?

That last one sounds good, except again, he wants to eat me.

“Of course I know who you are,” Luca says. “It’s all laid out in this book. The legions you command, the damned you oversee. You can go back to it all at first light, or you can bind yourself to this mage next to me and see your first true sunrise in one hundred and seven years.”

Asmodeth stares at Luca and Jacques for a long moment. Then, slowly, the demon turns to me.

Fuck. I think he’s made his decision.

I shift my weight, drawing my magic close. The demon’s eyes dip to the cut along my chest, and his pupils blow wide.

Asmodeth snarls, then he lunges for me. I dive to the side, banging hard against the invisible barrier.

I barely have time to pivot before the demon is charging again. And again I dive out of the way, only just escaping the attack.

The action is futile. There’s nowhere to go. The circle can’t be more than twenty feet in diameter. I can keep this up for another few minutes, but I’m going to stumble eventually, and the beast will get me. He’s practically vibrating with need.

I form my magic in my hand.

“Explode,” I whisper, lobbing the spell at him.

BOOM!

It detonates before it even reaches Asmodeth, blowing the demon into the air. He slams against the curved walls of the spell circle, then falls to the ground. His shoulder is mildly cut up, but for the most part, he looks unharmed.

Jacques has crept near the edge of the circle, his eyes rapt as he watches me and Asmodeth.

“Do not get close,” Luca warns. “If you smudge the salt, the demon can escape unbonded, and if any part of you crosses the barrier, you can be dragged in, and the demon gets a free meal.”