Page 6 of Mastering Mayhem

We followed Ash into the back of the building where Chaos loomed over a rotted mass ofsomething. He crossed his arms, keeping a wide stance, a look of disgust curling his lip. “Balor, you will return her life force.”

My gaze snapped to the mound of flesh, my brain finally processing the shape. Balor, King of the Formorians, lay partially formed on the floor. His skin held an ashy-green pallor, his face almost skeletal as he reached an arm toward me.

“Sssshe’s mine…” he hissed, and a tiny flame ignited on his fingertip.

Witch fire.Myfire.

“Oh, hell no. That’s mine.” I wiggled in Mayhem’s arms, and he lowered my feet to the floor, keeping a firm grip on my shoulders so I didn’t topple over.

Balor inched toward me, his blob of a body moving like a slug. “Give it to me, and I’ll set you free.”

“I’m already free, you wannabe Jabba the Hutt.” If I had my sword—and if my legs would carry me—I’d lob off his head and make his species extinct for good. Sadly, in my current condition, I was about as useful as wet toilet paper. Single ply.

“Ash, I need an extraction spell.” I made a grabby motion toward her. No way in hell could I cast it alone.

“On it, but you’re not helping.” Before I could protest, she lit some herbs on fire and took Miles’s hand.

They recited the incantation together, and Balor’s semi-gelatinous form bubbled, his thin skin turning transparent as my energy fought his hold. He strained, his expression looking like he was both constipated and trying not to puke at the same time. I knew the feeling.

Well, not the constipation part. But if my stomach didn’t stop lurching every time I twitched, it—along with all my innards—might end up on the floor.

“Nooo… Make it stop,” Balor wailed.

Mayhem’s growl rumbled through my body, setting my nerves off on a tangent. “How did you escape Hell?”

“Donal did. Please stoooop.” My light, a shimmering gold, gathered beneath the surface of his skin.

“How long have you been in this realm?” Ash asked. “Answer us and we’ll make the pain stop.”

“Months. Months! Rifts in the veil. Donal is smart. Lots of heart.”

My stomach heaved. A drumline pounded out a sickening rhythm in my head while Balor’s agonizing wails jabbed daggers into my ears. Goosebumps pricked my skin, the fever making me shiver and sweat, and I leaned into Mayhem, willing myself to stay upright. “Let’s put him out of his misery.”

Ash and Miles recited the incantation two more times in succession. Balor’s mouth opened, his jaw unhinging like Imhotep fromThe Mummy, as my light poured from his throat. It shot toward me and blasted up my nostrils, burning like a mixture of Carolina Reaper and ghost pepper oils.

Damn, I was a spicy witch.

I heaved in three breaths, four, five, until the burning stopped and the drumline ceased their incessant song. My eyes and mouth watered, the cracks in my lips healing and plumping as my life force surged through my body. The strength returning to my muscles, I stepped out of Mayhem’s arms and leered at the heap of wasted flesh on the floor.

“There’s a reason your kind went extinct.” I reached back for my sword, but my hand met only air. “Please tell me someone brought my weapons inside.”

Ash shook her head. Balor wheezed, attempting to form words, but without my energy, he’d turned into a slimy blob of yuck…yuckier than he was before.

“His heart hasn’t fully formed.” Mayhem held up a taloned hand. “I tried to wrench it from his chest, but his entrails are gelatinous.”

“That’s fine. He has a head I can lob off.”

“Here.” Shade offered me a twelve-inch dagger. “It’s the sharpest one I’ve got.”

I accepted the blade, holding the leather-wrapped handle and testing its weight. “Nice.”

Our Jabba wannabe inched away like the slug he was, so I grabbed a handful of his sparse hair, angling his head up and exposing the rolls of his fatty neck.

My grip tightened on the handle, and I was about to jab the blade into his throat when a sense of peace washed over me. My brain had the audacity to search for a non-violent solution to allow Balor to remain in existence.

I narrowed my eyes, cutting my gaze toward my demon. “Mayhem!”

“Sorry.” He drew his shoulders upward and tilted his head down like a scolded puppy, which was kind of cute considering he stood there in all his princely demonic gloriousness.

---