Page 49 of SIN Bone Deep

This is humbling.

This is suffering.

This is… I cannot exist without her.

He has stolen her from me.

I need… I need her back. I need her to be mine.

This is not the end. I will not let it be.

He has won, for now only;

However, I have not rescinded my claim.

She is mine.

Although, for now, he has made her his.

SEVENTEEN

Live you must and let to live, fairly take, and fairly give

– The Wiccan Rede

There are no words sufficient to describe the agony of the fires of Hell. They burnt me from the inside out, blood boiling, organs crisping, skin blackening, and hair falling away into ash. The flames danced with faces twisted into anguished screams, and the smoke crawled like fingers.

This was how Charity Vossen had died, in a fire so ferocious that she did not have a chance to scream before she was rendered into ash. Was I to share her fate? Mal had promised to save me. Had he failed? But, no… I did not believe I had done so much wrong in my life that I would be sent to Hell, and I did not believe that Ender would peacefully escort me there. Ender loved me…

Ender had been prepared to watch me die. He had been angry at Mal for interfering and had pleaded with me not to invoke him.

And, just like that, the fires went out.

I opened my eyes. I was in my room, on my bed. It was morning, and the sun streamed in through the window. Birds chirped in the branches, the flutter of their wings casting shadows across the floor. I was dressed in my pajamas and lay beneath the covers. I could smell the lavender that my aunts used to scent the linen rising faintly from the sheets and the pillowcase beneath my head. One of the aunts had changed my bed recently, and the sheets were still smooth and uncreased beneath me.

Every breath was agony. My body felt heavy, my muscles ached, and my skin screamed. My heart throbbed in my ears, through my head, and behind my eyes. I lifted my arms slowly, expecting to see charred skin and blood but they were clean, as if I were freshly showered, and unmarred.

The light caught on the ring I wore on my finger. The same finger where Ender had put his first ring woven of hair. That ring was gone, and instead, this band of gold, set with an opal, the red flame within shifting as my hand shook. Ender’s bracelet was also gone. I mourned the loss of those dark, soft reminders of my grim reaper, the sob trembling my lips.

“You should be happy.” The mattress compressed as Mal lay out beside me, propping his head up on the palm of his hand and his elbow. He grinned down at me and reached out to adjust the ring on my finger. “I saved you.”

“Ender…” I managed to whimper. “Ender’s ring…”

“I’m the possessive and jealous type, Elenyx,” he told me. “I could not have you wearing his claim on you now that you are mine. Diamonds and opals, instead,” he took my hand in his, weaving his fingers between mine. “I will cover you in gold and precious stones. You are my first witch,” he added brightly. “I normally don’t accept the familiar bond. That is for weaker demons. Sentimental or ambitious fools. But for you, I made an exception.”

“Thank you,” I was weeping, the seep of tears almost unnoticed down my cheeks. “I did not want to die.”

“You did though. Very almost,” he told me. “I had to bend some rules, and do some tweaking… You’ll work it out. This is going to be great,” he decided and rolled off the bed and onto his feet, crossing to my closet and flicking through its contents. “Unlike your clothing choices. What is this?” He pulled out a maxi dress and sneered. “A tent? A family of four could live beneath this fabric, and never meet each other.”

“What is wrong with me?” I was so weak and shaky as I sat up. “What happened?”

“You almost died,” he held a dress up against himself and considered the effect in the mirror. “This will do, I suppose, but your wardrobe needs some serious attention. A shopping trip this afternoon, I think, after our date.”

“Our date,” I repeated.

“Well, yes, Nyx. We’re meeting the blonde fool and his friends, remember? You’d better get showered and dressed.” He dove into my underwear drawer and made a sound of dismay. “By all that’s unholy, your underwear, Nyx, it’s so…” He held a pair of plain black cotton briefs up. “Nun-like and unadorned.”

“They’re comfortable,” I told him defensively. “Get out of my underwear drawer, Mal.”

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