Page 137 of A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums

“When I found out he had no idea you even existed—well, let’s just say my staff learned to never disappoint me like that again. So we had to expand the search. You took longer, as you’d been bound tighter than your brother. And now, here we are.”

“But you’re Beelzebub. None of this explains why you went after us in the first place.”

“Magic,” Connor said softly.

“Oh, good boy. You got that.”

Connor growled at the Prince of Hell.

“That garden held all the magic of the universe. Hell holds the magic of one fallen angel. Powerful, but not nearly as powerful as what you and your brother have flowing through your veins. I need to resurrect the garden and I need your blood to do it. Sorry you have to die, but it’s for the best. You’ll never use it to its full potential.” Beelzebub walked over to me like he didn’t have a care in the world, then he turned first to Connor and then to Sim. “Now, you get to watch as I drain the life from Simone first.”

“Why me?” I asked, trying to distract him or give me time to get Simeon’s attention.

“You haven’t figured it out? You’re a woman. All women hold tiny bits of magic. Why do you think men sought to subjugate them? Men were never meant to be the dominant force on the planet. They were destined to be the soldiers who protected the ruling queens. And as women were busy creating life and knowledge, some men grew resentful and then, my dear Simone—they struck, spinning the world off its intended axis. Given your power, you have to die first. I can’t have you trying to kill me while I’m killing your mate or your brother. As I will have your power inside me, they’ll be no trouble to me.”

Now we’d all seen movies where the bad guy spilled his nefarious plan right before getting defeated by the hero. Up until this moment, I’d thought that was a product of subpar storytelling, yet here we were.

“Smart,” I said. “You played the long game and got one over on all of us.”

“Really, Simone?” Connor snapped at me.

“What?” I asked. “I got to give credit where credit is due. That was a smart plan. Think about how much patience it took to get here. Lilith knows I’d never be able to hold out that long.”

“I appreciate the compliment from a queen such as you are,” Beelzebub said, “but I have a world to dominate, so I’m afraid it’s time for you to die.”

As he walked up to me with a demonic pep to his step and as he raised his hand, I shot a glance to Simeon. He dipped his eyes to his pocket and I manifested the hilt of Lilith’s blade from his pocket into my hand. I manifested the amulet into my other. Lilith appeared inside the cage.

“You will die for your sins against my family,” she warned Beelzebub. He turned his head to her and with her magic, she unbound me. I joined the amulet to the hilt and a glowing, ethereal blade shot up from the hilt. Beelzebub turned his attention back to me in time to see me thrust Lilith’s blade intohis heart and twist. The blackest demon blood spurted from the wound as he dropped to the ground. He screeched and writhed and squealed in agony while I stood over his dying body.

“The magic will never be yours,” I spat.

Then, as the last bit of life left him, the bindings on Connor and Simeon dropped. The cage disappeared and I saw the destruction from the battle outside. It enraged me. I looked to my grandmother, who hovered above the ash pile that used to be Beelzebub and she nodded once. I threw my hands into the air, invoking the power of the universe. I had no idea I had this power until this very moment. The universe downloaded into my system, filling me with more and more of its magic. The power levitated me off the ground. Vaguely I became aware of my brother harnessing the clouds as the sky grayed. Bright, white-hot light shot out from every surface of my body targeting the demons, who fell in piles of ash—no warning. They died where they fought.

The last thing I noticed were the bodies of fallen witches, Lilium, hounds, and humans. I shrieked so loudly, it shot my light out for miles and miles. Mile-high flames charred the world around us. Átahsaia dropped his massive body to the dirt and sighed a breath that came out like a large gust of wind. He leaned his chin on his fist as if upset that his meal had so abruptly ended.

“Simone,” Connor hollered my name. I lifted my hand setting the hills ablaze. The current of power rolled through me. Iwasthe power. “Simone—stop!” He lunged for me but was thrown back by the electromagnetic field radiating off me. He hit the ground hard. I blinked. Then I dropped.

And my world went black.

I woke up with a splitting headache and as I got my bearings, realized I was in my bed back home. Mr. Pooches lay snuggled up on the pillow next to my head.

Something nagged at the back of my brain, but I couldn’t figure out what that something was. I felt gross, like I hadn’t showered in a hundred years. When I tried to sit up, my body felt sluggish, like after you slept way too long.

“Ready for some yum-yums, Mr. Pooches?” I asked and I’d swear that he nodded at me as he pushed up from the pillow and stretched his kitty stretch. “Let me shower first,” I said. He meowed. “I’ll be quick.”

Well, like it or not, I needed a shower, but more than that, I had to pee like a racehorse. I knew there was more to that saying, but hell if I ever remembered it. Mr. Pooches mewed his displeasure, but I ignored him and his attitude to pull clean undies and a bra from the top dresser drawer. I took a peek outside, pulling back my curtain to see what the weather was like. The trees had turned. Vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves on the sugar maple in my front yard greeted me rather than the lush greenery. Boy, that had happened overnight. The sun shined brightly, though, so I pulled out a pair of leggings that I’d had printed with Mr. Pooches’s face on them from the second drawer from the bottom, and one of my soft, oversized T-shirts. Today felt like a comfy kind of day.

Mr. Pooches didn’t follow me into the bathroom. I supposed he was still in a snit. Whatever. I peed, then got the shower going. My muscles were sore, probably from sleeping hard, and I noticed yellowish-blue bruises—big ones—on my arms and legs and even my torso. They looked the color of fading bruises. What the hell had happened while I slept?

After washing my hair and gingerly giving my body a scrub down, I dried off, dressed, wrapped a towel around my hair, and left the bathroom to take pity on Mr. Pooches. He mewed a kinder mew at me this time.

But when we passed the den, I saw a bunch of dudes and a few women watching the Red Wings play on a big, big screen that I didn’t own.

“What the hell?” I shouted and all the eyes in the den turned on me. They smiled, as if happy to see me. “Get out! I’m calling the cops.”

A couple of heads jerked like they couldn’t believe I’d threatened to call the cops. I turned, running to my bedroom, and slammed the door, locking it. Then as someone pounded on my door, trying to pop the lock, and shouting, “Babe? Open the door,” I frantically searched for my phone, which, as it turned out, wasn’t in my room.

“Leave. I won’t call the cops if you just leave.” What did I do? The intruder popped the lock, pushing open the door. I grabbed up the lamp from the bedside table closest to me to use as a weapon if necessary.

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