Page 13 of Mayhem and Ember

I set the book next to the skull. “I want the three of you to wait upstairs during the summoning.”

Shade laughed incredulously. “Not a chance.”

I eyed the skull before pinning him with a steely glare. “I mean it. Take Miles and Patrice upstairs. Actually, you should all leave the building. Go have lunch or something.”

“You can’t be serious.” Miles sheathed his daggers, concern etching lines on his forehead. “If he breaks free…”

“That’s exactly why I want you out. This curse is on my family. It has nothing to do with you, and I won’t risk your lives by exposing you to the hurricane we’re about to unleash.”

“Ember makes a good point,” Chaos said. “When Mayhem materializes and sees five witches with their weapons drawn, he will assume you are threatening him, and he will act accordingly.”

“They’re right, guys.” Ash nodded. “We have to reason with a livid demon. The fewer distractions, the better.”

Shade glared at Ash and then at me. “Okay. We’ll wait upstairs, but we’ll be down at the first sign of struggle.”

“I would expect nothing less.” The tension in my shoulders eased a tiny bit. “Since you’re staying upstairs, Patrice, can you bottle freezing and mending spells for the coven?”

“Of course.” She nodded and hurried up the steps, no doubt relieved her presence wasn’t required for the summoning.

“They’ll need shadow magic too,” I said. “Bottle as many as you can without overtaxing your vim.

Shade’s jaw ticked, and Miles grasped his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

The guys headed to the stairs, and Shade paused on the bottom step. “If you need help down here…”

“We’ll let you know.” I held my breath as their footsteps receded, and when the kitchen door opened, I exhaled hard. “Thanks for backing me up.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Ash picked up the skull and offered it to me.

Pinpricks gathered in my palms, spiraling up my arms the moment my skin touched bone. A shiver swirled through my body, making my arm hairs stand on end as I set it in the circle, centered over Mayhem’s sigil.

Rubbing my hands together to dissipate the sensation, I returned to the table and grabbed the grimoire. “Let’s invite a little Mayhem into our lives.”

6

MAYHEM

Time was meaningless in my dark prison. Each minute that passed could have been hours. Each day could have been a century. Every second of excruciating silence added fuel to the flames of my rage.

I ignored the faint tickle at the base of my head. Deprived of all my senses, my mind often fabricated sensations that could not be. I’d had no corporeal form since Isabel trapped me, taking my skull and vanquishing me to this fate worse than extinction.

My fury flared at the thought of the treacherous witch, the idea that Chaos now did another witch’s bidding twisting the knife of betrayal.

The tickle intensified, spreading over my scalp and turning to pinpricks. It crawled through my essence like fingers jutting into my soul, threatening to shred the very fibers of my being.

In this fluid form, I did not breathe, yet my perceived lungs seized, collapsing on themselves, a crushing weight snapping ribs that did not exist. Words in an ancient tongue echoed in my mind, calling to me, coaxing me toward the veil.

My prison fought back, tightening around me like a boa squeezing the life from its prey. But the witches calling me were stronger than the one who imprisoned me. The magic holding me unraveled, and the new power sucked my spirit form through a tunnel of blinding light.

The veil, normally an iron wall, impassable for a creature of my level, tore open like a sheet of thin parchment. In the form of purple smoke, I poured through the rift.

My skull lay in the center of a summoning circle, atop my mark, which was perfectly drawn. Anticipation caused my energy to flash and spark, and I heard a faint gasp somewhere in the room. I paid the sound no mind as I billowed around my skull. Finally, after Hades knew how long, I would be reborn.

My energy intensified, and I spiraled like a funnel cloud, drawing my skull upward into my essence. Lightning cracked within the circle, my magic building, vibrating, creating flesh and bone.

My feet hit the floor, and a triumphant roar ripped from my lungs. My gaze locked on the blue-haired witch, and I lunged, slamming into an invisible, magical wall. I roared again, this time lowering my head and ramming my horns against the circle.

The magic held.

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