Page 15 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

I looked up and Lena had moved around her desk. She perched herself on the edge, her eyes softening slightly at the crinkled edges.

“When the demon is in control and you look at Rory, I know she’s all you can see,” she continued. “Ever since you came under my care and began your training, I’ve seen how every possession affects you. How each one feels personal to you. The weight of responsibility each one carries.”

There was no room to disagree with her because she was right. I’d spent a little over half my life at the Moreau Coven training hard, learning everything I could about demons, studying their tricks and their weaknesses so I’d never repeat the same mistake again that I’d made with Sascha. So that every case of a possession that came through our coven’s doors would have a chance. And that’s why her asking me to go against my training—to hurt a human vessel instead of helping them…

“I can’t do it, Lena.”

“You can, and you will,” she said sharply. “This is not a discussion. It is an order. Is that clear?”

I bit my tongue to restrain the defiance rising in my throat. As much as I wanted to voice my opposition, there would be no use.

“I understand,” I finally said with a terse nod, then rose from my seat and turned to leave before she had the chance to dismiss me.

I cracked the door open, then stopped. Swallowing, I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t entirely sure what came over me or compelled me to ask, but the words flew out of my mouth before I could think better of it.

“Was it demons who created the first witches?”

The doorknob was wrenched from my grip, and the room trembled when the door slammed back into the frame. Immediately, I felt the heavy hum of magic push out along the boundaries of the room, sealing us in a silencing charm. My pulse jumped at the same time my stomach pitched.

“Where did you hear that?” she hissed, suddenly inches away, her fiery expression in stark opposition to the icy tone of her voice.

I stammered as she advanced on me, until I felt the wall dig against my back. “I didn’t—”

“I know your father well enough that he wouldn’t have told you before it was necessary for you to begin your ascension training. So, who did?” The High Witch’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What has it been whispering to you?”

Shaking under her hard gaze, I forced my voice not to tremble before I said, “It’s true then?”

Lena sighed and stepped back a few feet to give me space.

“Only the High Witches who sit on the Council are granted this knowledge. It’s a secret we’ve kept for thousands of years since our origin, and for good reason. If D.A.R.C. ever discovered the truth, our alliance with them—which is already shaky at best—would be over, and they would wipe us out just as ruthlessly as they do with every other demon. So, you do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Ever.”

“I swear,” I said, too rattled to say much else.

Pursing her lips, Lena turned and proceeded to fold herself back over her desk. She plucked up her glasses before placing them on the bridge of her nose before she said, “The exorcism will happen tonight.”

Disbelief snagged in my chest, mixed with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“You’re serious?”

Lena nodded. “The demon has exhausted its usefulness. And now that it has proven it has knowledge that threatens the safety of all witchkind, it is too dangerous to be kept here within our walls any longer.” She steepled her fingers over the desk, and they trembled ever so slightly. “Return to the Hull,” she instructed. “I’ll join you within the hour. Make sure Rory is prepared before the exorcism. He should understand what he’s in for.”

In truth, there was only so much I could do to prepare him. A human vessel would either survive the aftermath of an exorcism, or they would die in the process of the separation. And there were too many factors that determined the outcome—the skill of the exorcist, how powerful the demon was, and even how deep their hold on the vessel had rooted.

But I was very much ready to rid Vain from this realm once and for all, and I could only hope that Rory would come out the other end unscathed.

SIX

Rory

It was easy to lose track of time in an empty chamber with nothing to occupy myself except for Vain’s constant, restless presence. The only markers for time’s passing were the bland, tasteless meals brought twice a day by one of the witches. And every few days, a pail of fresh water (not holy water to my surprise) would be sent down along with a worn cloth. Even the scruff on my jaw had come in as the days turned into what must have been weeks.

Ava seemed to visit every day, sometimes for hours, to ask Vain her questions. I didn’t always care enough to stick around. She was nice to look at, but she was a stark reminder of the looming fate I knew would be coming for the both of us.

The shadows almost seemed closer as dread seeped from the dark edges of the chamber. It was only a matter of time before the witches decided they no longer had any use for us.

Waiting for the inevitable seemed a waste of the little energy I had, so I filled my days with dreamless sleep instead. In the recesses of my mind, there was nothing but an endless darkness. It made me wonder if death would be the same, an empty void of nothingness. I figured I may as well get used to it, to prepare myself for when it finally came.

After Ava had left the chamber for the day, I allowed myself to drift into that darkness and the warmth of familiarity it brought me. Vain’s presence cocooned around me, and I sank into him. Only when he let out a low rumble of approval did I stir awake.

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