Page 35 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

The three of us stood before the gate in silence.

Eventually, I sighed. “Gazing at a rock won’t give any answers. Just another question for the pile in the meantime.”

But figuring this out could solve so many mysteries in my life. Had my demon managed to keep a foothold in me all this time while trapped in the demon realm? Had her magic expenditure during the battle with the demons made it impossible to keep that foothold any longer?

If she was trapped in the demon realm, how the hell did I reach her? And what if the demon king found her first?

Right now I felt cold fear at the idea that my demon was on the other end of this third tether, caged somewhere I couldn’t reach her, and life had taught me that I often felt fear when faced with a truth I didn’t want to admit.

10

I dropped the last braid of my quipu. I’d left the task too long, but boy did emptying my thoughts into the artwork feel good. Not so good for my fingers, but if I kept up with this, then I could begin to consult the quipu while making coven decisions. If Huxley and Spyne managed to dig up useful demon information, I hoped the quipu could piece together some of the demons’ plans too.

That would be of real value.

I turned to Wild, who sat on the couch reading. “Anything good?” I asked.

“Just brushing up on my Vissimo and Luther knowledge. All done?”

“Even if I wasn’t, my fingers are.”

He put his book aside, and I took the invitation offered, curling up on his lap. He took my hands in his, and soothing, cooling magic licked away the throbbing rawness in them. He placed his arms around me after.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Your mind is quieter now.”

“Always gets busy if I neglect my quipu. I don’t like to think how life may’ve been different without the gift. I had trouble ignoring the threads and braids everywhere as a young child. Pretty sure humans considered me majorly weird.”

“You are what you are.”

I looked at him. “Did you just call me weird in a roundabout way?”

His dark eyes danced, then he said, “Huxley told me about today.”

Through all manner of meetings, the curiosity of what happened this morning had been on my mind. I finally understood the impossibility of denying curiosity as a grimoire. I’d be driven to find the answer to this mystery tether always now. I blew out a breath. “I need to figure the tether out. Even though I decided not to care about the person on the other end, now I have to, and I don’t know where to start.”

“Have you tried communicating through the bond?”

Not in a long time. Not since it first arrived.

“I’ll give it a go.” I dove within, quickly locating the thin tether to another being in the demon realm. I knocked a few times, then waited. Nothing. I plucked it harder, but the bond was so thin, I didn’t dare risk anything more.

I checked my divination affinity for any sign of my demon after.

Nothing aside from black smoke. Nothing, nothing.

Were the two linked? Huxley had mentioned the woman had black scales.

I opened my eyes. “No response. And no sign of my demon either.”

Wild didn’t reply. He was working through something akin to fear, and I understood that fear. I’d felt it since realizing the deeper ramifications of the possibility my demon was trapped in another realm.

“Tempest, what if your demon can’t come back by herself?” he asked in a calm voice.

Wild was anything but calm.

My chest tightened. “And what if the only reason we were going through the ritual was because she had a foothold in me? Now that she’s gone, what does that mean for us?”

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