Page 14 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

“I cannot,” Vain said. “Honesty is one of my virtues.”

Forming a fist, I drew upon my magic and curled it around the wards of the pentagram, my spell sending the demon straight to its knees. Vain bared Rory’s teeth, muscles tensing and spasming against the shocks of pain I sent through its body. I would have let the demon suffer for far longer if I hadn’t been worried about Rory’s well-being.

Please, forgive me, I prayed silently, hoping that Rory might be able to read the apology in my eyes.

After a full minute, I released my hold on the magic, and Vain fell forward to the stones, bracing its impact at the last moment with both hands. The demon’s body twitched in the aftershocks of the pain, and I fought to keep myself from feeling even a little sorry for it.

“You know, if you don’t give me something useful, I can convince the High Witch to move up the timeline of your exorcism.” Vain chuckled. “You think I’m bluffing?”

Vain lifted its head, the fervent expression it wore flaring with peaked interest. “Oh, I know you’re not,” the demon said between heaving breaths. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Offering the demon a cloyingly sweet smile of my own, I did not attempt to mask the malice in my tone as I said, “Make no mistake, the moment we’ve exorcised you from him, I’ll be the one to drive my blade straight through your black heart and banish what’s left of your body back to Gehenna in pieces before you can do a damn thing about it.”

I spun on my heels, fully intent on storming out of the Hull doors and straight into Lena’s office.

“When you next see your High Witch, ask her how the first witches were born.”

I stopped and my feet burned in place. “I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“It’s no riddle. Humor me.”

I pressed my eyes shut and bit the inside of my cheek. Vain was goading me, I knew it. I should have ignored the taunt. I should have walked away. In the end, I found it far more compelling to cast a half-glance over my shoulder to the demon who was still on its knees.

“When your kind first clawed its way through from Gehenna and opened the Great Rift between our realms, it caused a cataclysmic event. The expulsion of supernatural energy that was discharged from the rift transformed the surrounding areas and the people living there, granting the first witches their power.”

Vain threw its head back and laughed. A real, true, and horrifying laugh. “Is that the lie they’re feeding your kind these days?” Amusement glittered in the demon’s obsidian eyes. “How interesting.”

“I’m not playing your games, Vain.”

“Ask your High Witch, then,” it said. “Ask her how the first witches liked the taste of demon ichor.”

It was a pathetic attempt at manipulation. In my career, I’d heard just about every fabrication or wild tale imaginable and from demons worse than the likes of Vain. And yet…its words gave me pause, a seed of doubt already niggling in the back of my mind at what it was trying to insinuate. I allowed the comment to fade to an errant thought, brushing off the demon’s notions as quickly as they had appeared, and left Vain on its knees without another word as I strode out of the Hull.

I would not be taken for a fool.

As much as I desperately wanted to disregard the rules and attempt an exorcism on my own—to give Rory his freedom, to see that heavy weight fall off his shoulders and see him flooded with relief, with hope again—I knew I could not give that to him. Not yet. Not until the High Witch gave the order.

And every day I grew to hate Lena for it more and more.

She was convinced that Vain knew something useful about the demon’s movements, something substantial that she could bring before the Council. So, no matter how hard I pressed Lena every day to allow the exorcism, she refused.

After today’s particularly irritating session in the Hull, I sat in the High Witch’s office, recounting the details to her as she stood in front of the singular window that overlooked the grounds and the view of the Smoky Mountains in the distance. She kept her hands laced behind her back, facing away from me while she listened.

“How long did you say that Rory has been possessed for?” Lena interjected.

“Seven years.”

“That’s almost unheard of,” she mused. She half-turned toward me, her lips pressed together in a fine line. “I think it’s time we switch to harsher methods with the demon. The spells you’ve been using to inflict pain are clearly not enough to motivate it to talk.”

My expression twitched into confusion. “Are you asking me to resort to physical torture? To hurt Rory?”

Lena sounded annoyed that I was voicing even a remote level of concern. “That’s exactly what I’m asking. The weaker the vessel, the weaker the demon inside will become.”

I shook my head. “Lena, I don’t think I can…”

“He’s not Sascha,” she said.

Hearing my sister’s name was a shot to my chest. It forced the air from my lungs, allowing the guilt to sweep in to take its place. A vision of her with black eyes haloed in a swathe of red hair flashed behind my eyes. Lena was the only one who knew of the role I had in my sister’s fate besides my parents. And I loathed how it felt as if she were holding it over my head like a dirty secret. A tool she could use to manipulate my will to hers.

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