Bloodcraft (26 page)

“It’s not insanity.”

Her eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to her—he
wasn’t
the same person. “Who are you?” she asked.

He fluttered his eyelashes at her, a hand flying to his breast in mock astonishment. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re not Pan. You’re someone else.” She studied him. The change in his face had been deliberate—he’d meant to show her. He wasn’t possessed by something—she would have sensed a second being. It was as if he were two people in the same body, a two-faced split personality. “You’re a Janusite.”

“Such a clever girl,” he crowed, clapping his hands. “I knew you would figure it out eventually. I didn’t think it would be this soon, but I guess this is a lesson for me not to underestimate you.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. She’d never met one of them before, only heard the urban legends. It was mostly a human condition, but had been known to affect witches from time to time, and Pan had told her that he had human blood in him. Janusites were torn between good and evil. The little she knew of them told her that they could not be reasoned with or appealed to, and when one side took over, the other retreated. Right now, she knew she was dealing with the beast instead of the boy.

“How did you hide yourself from Madame Starke and the rest of the teachers at Belles Fontaines?” They never would have admitted him had they known.

“What makes you think I hid anything? And even if I did, people believe what they choose to believe. I told you, when you are invisible, you can accomplish many things.”

“You’re not invisible, Pan.”

He laughed, his mirth making him double over. “Oh, come now. Tell me you didn’t see me coming? You saw what you wanted to believe just like everyone else does. Don’t pretend for a second otherwise.”

“You were my friend.”

He eyed her coldly. “Is that why you trusted me? Told me the truth about who you are? Confided in me? Oh, wait, you didn’t. Because we were never friends.”

Victoria felt him getting agitated and she knew that she didn’t have much time. It was now or never—the magic felt strong enough. “
Excindo
!” she shouted, pushing every bit of force she had into the spell.

Pan went flying backward and crashed into a nearby tree as the cell of roots exploded outward. Victoria fell to her knees, gasping for breath. The spell left her weak and disoriented as the magic fought the stringy constraints of Pan’s toxin. Black spots flared in her eyes and she was momentarily blinded. In her hazy vision, she saw Pan struggling to his knees. The spell should have left him battered, but it hadn’t been at full potency. She dug her fingers into the dirt and forced herself to stand as he crawled toward her, fumbling at the pouch at his waist.

Focus
, she hissed at herself. If he threw any of that powder her way, she would be at his mercy. She would lose any advantage she had.

Her blood blistered her skin, desperate for release. Victoria bit her lip, freeing the raw power coursing through her. It felt sluggish, but she managed to stand on shaky legs. “Walk away, Pan,” she warned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can try.”

He teleported and Victoria did the same. The magic was draining her more than she expected. With a strangled breath, she tried to tap into the resources of the amulet that usually rested at her breast. Pan’s mocking laugh echoed through the trees.

“Looking for this?” He appeared at the end of the small glade, her locket in hand. “Oh, trust me, I know about witches and their trinkets. I figured it was valuable.”

“You will regret this.”

“I don’t think so.”

A vine darted out from a nearby branch to loop around her wrist. A root snaked out from beneath her feet, making her lose her balance and her breath. The spell that had been on the tip of her tongue disappeared as her head hit the unforgiving ground and the breath whooshed out of her. Stars spun in her vision.

“
Confuto
,” she gasped, trying to stop Pan mid-motion. But either she wasn’t thinking clearly or the fall had knocked her semi-unconscious because Pan kept coming toward her.

“Nice try, but that reminds me,” Pan said in gleeful triumph, looking down at her as he straddled her fallen body. “Time for another dose.” He hauled a breath into his lungs and blew into his cupped hands toward her. A sprinkling of gold powder shimmered into her face. She tried not to breathe, but it was no use. The dust melted into her skin and seeped into her nasal passages. Within seconds, she felt as if her entire body was floating on a stream of sunshine.

“You’re my best friend, Pan,” she told him giddily.

“I know. Time to go back to sleep. We have work to do.”

She fell back onto the soft pillows of the bed, her eyes rolling in her head. She felt so calm, so at peace. Something tugged at her consciousness—a hot, insistent sensation along the edges that wouldn’t calm, reminding her that her feeling of bliss wasn’t real. But the truth was, she didn’t want to know. She was safe. She was happy.

She
was
home.

SEVENTEEN

Demon Rogue

Lucian held his brother by the scruff of his neck and dropped him to the floor in front of his audience. “Delivered as promised,” he said to Freyja. The warlock stared at the vampire’s twitching body in surprise.

“How did you capture him?”

Lucian laughed. “You see, my brother likes to believe in my repentance and redemptive qualities. I have yet to convince him that I am a lost cause.”

“You would give up your own flesh and blood?” Roan asked, his golden eyes flaring.

“My only loyalty is to myself.”

Roan opened his mouth to continue, but Freyja silenced him with a glare. “Enough. You have fulfilled your part of the bargain. Why have you brought the one waiting outside?”

Lucian knew she was referring to Lena. “She’s with me.”

“Would you sacrifice her, too?” Roan drawled, ignoring his leader’s warning.

“If I had to, yes.”

“Does she know that?”

Lucian met the warlock’s stare. “Of course.”

“Secure the prisoner,” Freyja said, addressing her followers in the underground hall. “Make sure his body is bound by silver at all times. It is the only thing that will keep him restrained. It is time to bring this witch to us.” She eyed Lucian. “Lord Devereux and his companion are our allies. An attack on either of them will be considered an attack against me. Now, make the preparations to put the strategy in place and take up your positions. Do what you swore upon your oath as a warlock to do.”

Lucian frowned as almost half of the company melted from the massive hall. He’d never heard of any oath, but then again, he wasn’t too familiar with the inner workings of warlock culture. He knew that Freyja and the warlocks were organized, but they seemed focused, as if this was a coup they’d been planning for decades. He expected it was—they’d always existed in the shadows of the witches and the vampires. He, himself, never understood why the witches mistrusted them so much. They, too, were magic users, although they veered toward the full spectrum of magic, including the practice of dark magic. Unlike witches, they used their power to summon demons and other shadow creatures that were bound to the dead. But other than that, Lucian did not know much about them.

Freyja dismissed the rest of the warlocks, a silent communication passing between her and Roan before he hauled Christian out of sight to another room. Lucian approached her. “I am curious about something. Why haven’t you aligned with the witches? It seems natural that you would, given you have a common enemy.”

Her smile was thin. “We align with no one.”

“You aligned with me.”

“A necessary evil.”

Lucian frowned at her cryptic choice of words. “With your combined powers, you could have taken the vampires out centuries ago. Why now? What do you hope to accomplish with Le Sang Noir? It cannot be controlled by anyone but its wielder and, trust me, I’ve tried to coerce the witch before.”

She eyed him as if considering how much to reveal of what she had planned. Freyja cleared her throat, a host of emotions playing across her face. “We are not attempting to coerce her. The curse must be destroyed.”

“You’re planning to
destroy
all the witch’s power?”

She nodded. “Power that great is corrosive. It is an abnormality that will twist even the purest of hearts, and it cannot be suffered to exist with the threat it poses to all existence.”

Lucian’s brows snapped together in disbelief. “You would throw it all away?”

“We are not throwing it away, Lord Devereux,” she said in a cold voice. “We are sending it back to where it belongs, where it cannot be of harm.”

“And where exactly is that?”

“The demon dimension,” she said. “It is where most dark magic is born.”

“And you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” he said sourly. Lucian felt all his carefully orchestrated plans start to crumble. The warlocks had never intended to use the witch. They wanted to make sure that no one could abuse her power. His eyes narrowed at the woman standing in front of him—something didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense that they would go through all this trouble. It went against everything he’d ever known about warlocks. “You mentioned an oath before. What were you talking about?”

“Lord Devereux, I think it is time for you to leave.”

But as he turned to depart, an explosion rocked the walls of the chamber, sending a shower of rocks and stones descending upon them. Roan rushed in with two other guards at his side as another shockwave hit the building. Freyja took off at a run, climbing the stairs to the upper part of the abandoned church. Lucian followed on swift feet, his eyes finding Lena, who was crouched behind a marble pillar. He made his way over to her, dodging falling debris.

“We’re under attack!” someone shouted before a blast of angry red light tore through him.

“From who?” Roan shouted back. “Vampires?”

“That was magic, you idiot,” Lucian snarled as he leapt to the destroyed façade of the church. The pale light of the moon filtered down to the lone figure waiting in the courtyard. “Vampires don’t command bursts of light at our fingertips.”

Freyja joined him. Lucian could feel her entire body tense as she stared at their assailant. “It’s a demon.”

Roan paled. “That is impossible. Who summoned it? Is it linked to any of us?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“A rogue?”

She shook her head, closing her eyes to take measure of the demon. “It’s too powerful to be a rogue. That is something else. I don’t see a portal to the demon dimension, which makes no sense.”

“What does that mean?” Lucian asked.

“It means that this demon lives here.”

“Impossible. Demons can’t exist on this plane without being summoned by someone like you.”

Freyja stared at him and he was surprised to see a hint of fear on her face. “Stronger ones can. The question is why.”

“So what drew it here?” Roan asked as another burst of fiery orange light consumed two warlocks in its path. His furious, accusing gaze fell on Lucian.

“Don’t look at me,” he snarled. “I’m not in the business of consorting with demons.”

“It must have followed you here,” Roan tossed back.

Lucian glowered at him. “I seem to recall you conjuring a demon not a week ago, so if it followed anyone, I’d say it would be you.”

“Enough,” Freyja growled.

The beast shifted into view then. It was roughly the size of a lion with glowing red eyes. An acid green and sickly yellow haze surrounded it on all sides. It seemed to be tied to some kind of host—a smaller creature that wasn’t human, but Lucian couldn’t quite determine what it was. The reek of sulfur filled the air as it drew its bulk closer to the bodies strewn across the courtyard.

“What’s it doing?” Lena said, her eyes centered on the demon.

The beast heaved its weight on top of a fallen warlock and Lucian shuddered. “It’s feeding on them.”

Sure enough, when the creature moved on to another body, the only thing that remained in its wake was a lifeless hollow husk. At Freyja’s signal, the warlocks consolidated their attack, but their spells barely deterred the demon. It seemed impervious to their assault, only focused on consuming as many souls as it could. Lucian couldn’t help noticing that each life that the demon absorbed seemed to make it bigger and stronger.

“Nothing’s working,” Roan shouted as he flung a fire spell toward it. “It’s not even attacking. It’s feeding. What does it want?”

“One way to find out.” Freyja’s eyes glowed white as she muttered a spell, pushing a trail of glowing iridescence toward the creature. The tendril curled around the monster. The demon froze and locked eyes with Freyja as their conscious energies joined. Bolts of energy exploded around them as the warlocks pressed their attack, but it was as if a bubble encased the two of them. Time stood still as they faced each other. Freyja was strong, but it was obvious to Lucian that she was no match for the demon. Her hands shook as she tried to retain control of herself. But the demon wouldn’t let her go. A whimper escaped her lips as she dropped to her knees, her cheeks sunken and gaunt.