Page 65 of Touched By Death

With a shrug, I hold my hand out and let a small flame flare to life on my palm. Flickering wildly, it dances. My uncle holds his hand over mine, searching my face, intently. “It’ll hurt. Nothing about this forging will be natural. Whatever you do…” A flame flickers to life, spreading across his palm like wildfire. “Don’t let go.” Then he grabs my hand, and I grit my teeth against the explosion of white-hot pain that sears through my veins in a race toward my hammering heart. My pupils dilate, and my jaw clenches tight as I fight back a guttural roar. Amenadiel is no better off, gripping my hand so tightly, it won’t surprise me if he breaks bones. But that pain fades in comparison to the agonizing torture of Amenadiel’s flame burning a path through my soul.

Collapsing to the floor, our eyes meet. In that brief moment, bonded by fire, I understand every decision—right or wrong—he’s ever made. I see his internal struggle with living in my father’s shadow. I even see the battle between light and dark that’s existed within him since the moment he exited Hell. Despite what he wants the world to believe, a drop of Light still clings to his heartstrings, refusing to part with his charred soul. Determined to eliminate his biggest weakness, Amenadiel has tried everything to relinquish it, without luck.

I know he sees me, too—the torture my father has inflicted upon me throughout the years. Every cruel thing I’ve ever done.

But more than anything, I know he sees the little witch and the imprint she’s left on me, like a tattoo on my heart.

One I can’t part with.

Just as soon, our attention gets diverted by an incoming thick mist. Rolling across the stone floor, it devours everything in its path, slowly slithering over the cracks. Closer and closer.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper. At the same time, the flames in the fireplace flicker out. An icy chill licks at the exposed skin on my arms as the temperature in the room rapidly drops. “You never said it’d be like this.”

“What did you expect? Rainbows and roses?”

“I don’t fucking know, but this is creepy.”

“Welcome to Hell, where the fun never ends.”

I squeeze my eyes shut when the mist rolls over us—damp and cold, like a dewy morning breeze in autumn.

Releasing my hand, Amenadiel jumps to his feet, and I open my eyes to see him dusting off his thighs. I push up to my knees and scan the town square. A cherub fountain sits in the middle, the water long since gone. Everywhere I look, I’m met with derelict, boarded-up shops and pubs. Weeds grow through the cracks in the pavement, and near the fountain lies an abandoned bike, the front wheel still spinning.

“Welcome to the world of the little witch. It’s a very unpredictable environment, so don’t get comfortable.”

I blink at him, at a loss for words. One quick scan of the town square has shivers tickling a path down my spine like caressing fingertips tracing each vertebra. A lineup of colorful, but weathered doors to my left catches my attention.

Beside me, Amenadiel chuckles. “Don’t look so surprised. You’ll soon learn that Aurelia has a thing for doors.”

“Why doors?”

“Beats me, but look on the bright side. At least we don’t have to cross a body of water or a tightrope.”

“So what are they?”

Tugging at the lapels, Amenadiel straightens his long coat. “In my experience, they lead to her dreams. If she’s asleep, that is.”

“And if she’s not?”

A look of mischief crosses his face, and he shrugs. “Fantasies mainly.”

My jaw turns to granite. “Fantasies? You spied on her fantasies?”

“Well, daydreams. Thought forms. Whatever. This is her mind, Daemon.” He waves a hand to the lineup of doors. “You can find anything behind those doors.”

I scan the town square again and do a double take when my attention snags on the bike.

It’s leaning against the fountain.

“There are inconsistencies, too.”

My throat jumps, and I look back at my uncle. “So, how do I find her here?”

Amenadiel studies me for a long moment, assessing me with cold, scrutinizing eyes. “You’re the hunter, according to your friends. Hunt her.”

“This is fucking crazy,” I breathe out, dragging a hand over my mouth while staring at my uncle. “Something about this isn’t right. You’re powerful enough to enter through a crack in the damn veil, but you can’t find her once you’re here?”

Sucking on his teeth, he looks mildly annoyed as he walks over to the doors. “Using my powers and hunting for lost females trapped by the darkness are two different things entirely. One skill grows with age, the other by sheer foolishness. You’re more like your father than you realize.”

---