Page 78 of The Cursed

I slammed the back of my head into Iban's nose, feeling it crack beneath the force. His hands lifted to grasp his broken nose, releasing me as I cut myself off from the magic with a scream of agony that tore the skin from my bones. Wrapping my ruined palm around the hilt of the bone knife buried inside me, I grasped it firmly and yanked it free.

Fresh blood swelled as I spun on my knees, sweeping my arm out in a single, smooth arch.

The blade caught Iban across the throat, the thin line taking a moment to show the blood swelling free. He sputtered, staring at me before his gaze dropped to the slow trickle that fell onto his shirt.

I bit back my sorrow at what had come of us, awkwardly stumbling to my feet with the knife in my hand. Its power slid through me, sinking back into the place where it belonged at my center. Everything came into focus as I felt Gray. Felt his own access to the Source strengthening as it stopped feeding through to me.

Gray kicked Michael in the chest with a fresh burst of gray magic, sending him staggering back. I shoved Iban's body into his path, sliding him through his own blood and watching as Michael tripped and fell backward. His arms struck out, catching hold of the edge of the seal as it tried to close without my magic to maintain it open.

Even as it shut, I felt the pull on my power. On my soul as it demanded a life.

It would all be for nothing if I couldn’t satisfy the cost.

I grabbed Iban, shoving him on top of Michael's body as Gray stepped on his brother's hand. Michael dropped his grip on the seal, his body sagging beneath the border as Iban plummeted into the pit. His body exploded into a mass of blood and flesh the moment he passed through; the sacrifice completed.

Glass covered the pit, cutting through Michael's fingers and severing them from his body as the seal closed over my friend and my familiar who were still trapped below. A demon struck out, landing his blow with three slash marks across Jonathan’s chest as I watched. My familiar shifted into his feline form, racing for Margot where Beelzebub roared his rage and the demons quivered.

I fell to the glass on my knees, staring down at Margot below as her fear-filled gaze peered up at me. She held Jonathan to her chest, my cat bleeding but alive as his violet stare also met mine.

Stone-covered glass.

And they were both gone.

CHAPTER 45

WILLOW

Iclawed at the stone, desperate to dig through. My nails scratched at the surface, blood leaking onto the seal as I moved to the border and prepared to latch my hands onto it.

"No!" Gray shouted, diving toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, yanking me back from the seal as I struggled in his grip. My blood leaked free from the wound that wouldn't heal, sliding down over my side.

Gray held me steady as he flipped me to my stomach on the Tribunal room floor. "Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing in his grip. Even now, my body felt so fucking tired that it took everything in me. Only adrenaline kept me going, the Source refusing to let me go.

"You're no good to her if you're dead!" he shouted, shifting me to my back. He raised his wrist to his mouth, biting himself and tearing through his skin with dull, human-like teeth. I winced as his flesh parted, ripping open to drip down onto my face.

He pressed it to my mouth, slamming it against my teeth harshly enough that I felt my lips bruise beneath the force of it. I shook my head from side to side, rejecting the blood from his torn arm.

Still, he pressed it into my mouth, forcing my lips to part. His blood slid through the gaps between my teeth, touching my tongue. His taste was as exquisite as ever, exploding over my tongue and tasting like pure, undiluted magic. I knew now it was the Source flowing through him, the taste of all things life and death that existed within him.

I grasped his arm, pulling him closer as the blood poured down my throat. Unable to stop, completely enraptured by the magic rejuvenating me, I knew I would drink from him until he had nothing left to give.

I was vaguely aware of voices as Gray spoke with someone else, the deep tenor of the other man's voice familiar. I couldn't be bothered to look as I drank, warmth spreading through my side as it finally healed the damage from the knife.

The bone knife I still held clutched tightly in my hands.

"Witchling," Gray said, cupping my cheek finally. He tried to drag his wrist away from my mouth, but I held fast, sinking my teeth into his skin in my refusal.

He chuckled as another male came, grasping my hands and wrestling them away from his arm. Gray tore his arm free, leaving my lungs heaving as I watched him fall back onto his ass. He clutched his arm, the wound healing slower than it should have.

Leviathan helped me sit up, guiding my back up off the floor with a gentle, brotherly touch.

My eyes immediately went for the seal, a strangled sob catching in my throat when I realized I would have to tell Della and Nova that Iban was dead and Margot...

Fuck.

"Look at me," Gray said, his face filling my vision. He put himself between me and the seal, capturing my face in his hands. "Beelzebub willneverlet anything happen to her. You understand me?"

I nodded, grasping onto that logic with everything I had. I didn't know Beelzebub well enough to know if I could trust him or if he would be an ally or a foe, but what I did know was that the way he looked at Margot would have to be enough for now.

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