Page 102 of The World Undone

Jarrod’s lips thinned into a smirk, one that didn’t quite work with the musculature of his face. Forced. Brittle.

He was trying to keep things contained, but he wasn’t very good at it. Eagerness lined every twitch of his thin fingers.

“I don’t often hold meetings with people who have the power to burn down the room I’m standing in with one snap of their fingers.” That slimy grin quivered slightly, like it was fighting to hold the unfamiliar stretch. “And I’ve been told that you and your—” he nodded towards Darius and then Ro, “friends—have slaughtered many innocent protectors just moments ago, under this very roof. I’d say that warrants a bit of a protective detail, wouldn’t you?”

Ro straightened. “We didn’t initiate that fight.”

“Perhaps not.” Jarrod’s eyes narrowed briefly, then he turned to his guard, hands raised. “But in the spirit of goodwill, so long as Miss Bentley agrees not to use her powers, we can all put our weapons down. I believe that we can all stand to benefit from a brief conversation. A temporary truce that will perhaps last an eternity, if you like what I have to say.”

Elizabeth hadn’t shifted an inch, her eyes, unblinking, drove through me like a laser—sharp, but like she was looking beyond me.

The others, after a few cursory glances and grunts, lowered their weapons to their sides.

It was a meaningless gesture, as we all knew. It would take half a breath for them to be back and pointing at us, but I was faster than they were. And so was Darius.

We’d get ourselves and Ro out of here if needed.

“You see, Miss Bentley,” Jarrod spread his arms, pausing, “is it okay to call you that? I know of course that you aren’t truly Cyrus’s child.” Cy’s name on his lips landed like a barbed arrow in my chest. “I’m very sorry for your loss by the way. Tarren has always been rather—over-eager and careless when emotions are high. But from what I understand, you’ve taken your revenge.” I swallowed the pain, a scorching metal knot in my throat; did my best to ignore the current of rage washing over me. He let out a breathy laugh, his hands coming together. “No worries girl, we hold no bad blood where that is concerned. A life for a life, no one could fault you for that. But past events aside, I’ve been waiting for you to reach out again. You’ve been rather difficult to track down, you see. But I believe we can help each other.”

Still, I said nothing.

His right eye twitched and I could tell he was growing frustrated with my stubbornness and doing his best to hide it. “As you’ve no doubt deduced, we’ve been experimenting with magic.”

“Stealing it, you mean,” Darius bit out.

“Our connection to this magic goes back millennia.” Jarrod’s jaw clenched. “We are just attempting to harness and control it so that we might protect the world from what’s to come. We will need power to survive it, order.” With a quick, frantic movement, he pulled up Elizabeth’s shirt sleeve, revealing dark, angry-looking bruises bubbling under her skin from her veins, like an ink spill, the spread slow and webbed. Then, with a small cringe, he revealed the same under his own cloak. “But you see, we aren’t exactly perfectly equipped as hosts. At least not yet.” He sighed, dramatic and low, as if this was a performance that he’d practiced several days in front of the mirror. “Two of ours have died and while the rest of us have survived the transfusions, we haven’t metabolized as successfully as we’d hoped. But you,” he shifted his chin up, eyes meeting mine dramatically, as his band of protectors hung on every word of his sermon, “you, I believe, are the key to our success. To everything. To saving humanity and protectors alike. A conduit, it seems, perfectly made for this magic to flow through. Aren’t you, girl?”

Darius grunted. “Magic isn’t something to control and shape into your liking. How have you not learned that yet? What’s happening right now?” He shook his head, frustration and disdain mapped out on his eyes. “It’s because protectors have warped this power. Time has stripped your people of it because you did not respect it as you should have. Your greed has made the magic hungry, chaotic, violent.”

On the surface, what Jarrod was spouting sounded almost in line with what Lucifer had told me. But I knew enough of this Guild council’s greed to not believe benevolence was their goal. No matter how they framed it.

“I can’t speak for the past.” Jarrod’s nostrils flared slightly, but he otherwise made no sign that he’d heard Darius, his dark eyes not moving from mine as he continued. “You see, with your power, we can seal off hell for good,” he continued, oblivious to the tension lining every muscle in my body, “destroy it and everything within it, even. If you let us wield your power, link your power with ours, we can accomplish the original goal of our ancestors. Rid the world of demons forever. Save this world and all the people in it. For good. Protectors would be free—to live and exist in harmony with humanity. No more forced bonds. No more fighting. Just peace. We want the same thing, Miss Bentley. A life worth living, one unencumbered by evil or the duty to destroy it.”

My jaw was stiff with how tightly my teeth were grinding together. But I couldn’t hold back my disgust. “You mean that you want to use me to kill everyone in hell? They’re people, not things. No less worthy than anyone in this realm.”

“You know little about what exists in the depths of hell, Miss Bentley. Of what even the creatures who live there have tried to keep locked, buried.” He steepled his fingers and brought them to his lips, nodding and eyes shut, the gesture performative and dramatic. “Nevertheless, you have compassion, empathy. Again, I can’t fault you for that, however misguided it may be. I was warned that your sympathies have,” his gaze landed briefly on Darius before meeting mine again, “expanded. Matters are serious enough that we are willing to work with you, to put these differences of ours aside. They are small, in the grand scheme of things. We’ve been diligently working on a compromise these last months. And my researchers believe we’ve found a way, perhaps, to simply close the realms. Forever. It’s more complicated, and will put you more at risk. It will require all of your power—and ours. You must bond yourself to us—fortify the line of anchors for centuries to come.” He held his arms wide in front of himself, an invisible offering. “And, in the spirit of laying it all out there, even then, I can’t promise it will work.”

“Bond?” Darius’s voice was a low rumble, one that I felt reverberate through my chest with menace. “Over my dead body. And yours.”

“Your friends may stay in this realm of course,” Jarrod continued, oblivious to Darius’s brewing, dangerous rage, “as a thank you for your part in this mission. But it is possible that we’ve found a way for the hell realm to go on existing, eternally severed from ours. Perhaps everyone can win, Miss Bentley, don’t you see? A world without demons plaguing our kind—it’s the protector dream manifesting before our very eyes. How very lucky you are, to be the one to grant it.”

“You want us to damn everyone who’s been shoved into that prison your people created, you mean?” Darius’s tone was light, casual to the unpracticed observer, but I could feel the disgust lacing every syllable. When I glanced at him, I saw the familiar restraint buckling and bending as he tried to contain it. Darius had been so on edge, so close to snapping these last few weeks. And now, I could see him tap dancing erratically on the last millimeters of that cliff. “So that you can maintain your position unchallenged as the most powerful creatures in this world. Curious, it’s the council specifically who needs to bond with her.” He shook his head then turned to me. “He’s lying, Max. That’s not how the magic between realms works. It’s powered by balance, feeding from both sides. Hell cannot exist if that connection is forever severed. He can’t possibly know otherwise.”

“Protectors are demons,” Ro added, his voice unwavering, “just weaker. This has always been about protectors wanting more power. Even if you could manage it, Darius is right. You just want to secure a future in which you remain at the top of the food chain. And this time,” he nodded to me, “you want to use her power to amplify and fortify your own. You’re too weak for it without her. The magic you siphoned is clearly destroying—” he grunted, disgusted, “rejecting—you. You’re insufficient hosts. Unworthy.”

Jarrod’s facade of ease and magnanimity slipped instantly from his expression. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed and heated, as he lowered his arms, clenching his hands into fists at his side. I could tell he was resisting the urge to reach for this blade, which I took as a good sign. It meant that he was more comfortable using that in a fight than he was his magic. That bode well for us.

Several of the protectors who’d been quiet and obedient so far, lifted their weapons, preparing for the moment this farce of a truce broke into the inevitable war it was always going to be.

“Curious,” he said, nostrils flaring slightly as his eyes darted between the three of us, “that the people who are supposed to care for this girl above all else are so quick to hold onto their own prejudice,” He grinned, dark and malicious, “and condemn her to an early grave in the process.”

I froze, my lungs emptying.

Please no.

Not here.

Not right now.

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