Page 35 of The Fated and the Damned
I rolled my eyes at him. “He didn’t want my blood, András, he wanted me. And this”—I turned around and lifted my shirt, letting him see the three blackened scars imprinted on my back, writhing faintly as they always have—“is the mark he made for it.”
“Fuck me,” András breathed, stepping closer and reaching out to touch them.
Dante grabbed his wrist before he could, looking at me sharply.Possessive lordling.“How do we know this will even work?”
“We don’t.” I smiled at him wickedly. “Call it a hunch. And boys? Be on your best behaviour please. He doesn’t appreciate bad manners.”
Dante and András shared a look, the former dropping his hand and nodding at his friend. Hesitantly, András’s palm pressed against my scars. I was surprised Dante hadn’t demanded to do it himself, but he’d never been the overbearing type. Possessive perhaps, but never stifling. At least … not with his friends.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I didn’t know where to start or what to do, but I pictured Death in my mind and pulled at the otherworldly magic slithering on my back like one would a tether. When I had the image vividly in my head, I said his name, just once.
“Death.”
For a moment nothing happened, nothing but the sounds of Dante and András’s breaths and the frantic beating of my heart breaking the silence. Just as I’d thought it hadn’t worked, I felt a chill lift my hair, ruffling the thin fabric of my shirt, and a collective intake of air from the males beside me.
When I opened my eyes, it was to shadow and smoke and the familiar hooded guise of Death and his faceless mask. Once fully formed, I found him leaning against a tree, picking at his bony fingers as if there was dirt beneath his nails—not that he had any.
“Summoned with the chime of a bell like a common house cat,” he remarked, turning his head towards me and pushing off the tree. “You’re lucky I’m feeling curious. What does the fated one wish of me now?”
I quirked a brow. “Fated one? A little on the nose for you, isn’t it?”
The shadows curling around his feet crept up my arms, caressing my neck. “Blood witch, seeker of justice, breaker of bones, does it matter what name you bear? Your fate remains the same, as does those of the warriors you walk with.”
“And what do you know of our fate, Horseman?” Dante remarked.
Death’s faceless gaze swivelled to him. “The forgotten son, come to restore a legacy. Tell me, how was your mother when last you saw her?”
Dante bristled. “Very much alive, unfortunately.”
Death laughed, the sound chilling me to my bones. “For now. Her thread is entwined with yours, but that may change. The cards are never set, and even my darling wife cannot prevent that.”
“So you tied the knot,” I said with no small amount of amusement. “Congratulations, I guess?”
His gaze made my skin tingle like little bugs biting me all over. “Her murderous tendencies are little more than a distraction, especially when it comes to the Middle Realm. She’s where she belongs. By my side, as my queen.”
“And she’s not pissed at you for whisking her away from her games here?” I crossed my arms. “I find that hard to believe. She wanted her prize and I am willing to bet she’d do anything to get it.”
“You’re young and mortal,” Death said, his voice melodic and old as the ages. “I could try to explain the depths of our relationship, but I’m afraid you haven’t the time nor the capacity.”
I shrugged. He was probably right. They had millennia—eternity—after all. One little love spat was probably just a bump in the road for them. Even if she was scary as all hell and had never learned to share. “As long as you keep her in check, you can play happy families as much as you like. We have enough to deal with earthside. Which brings me to why you’re here.”
“You want to know about the demons,” he stated. Death circled the three of us unnervingly, András looking like he wanted to be anywhere in the world but here.
“I don’t hear you denying their presence in the Middle Realm. So it’s true then, a door has been opened to the Under World?”
“In a sense. The spell your prior High Witch used to create a temporary portal allowed the guta demon into the Middle Realm. However, she never severed the spell.”
“Meaning the portal remains open and demons can come and go as they please,” I said, scowling. Caitlin fucking Vargo. Even when dead she was a pain in my ass.
Death waved his hands. “Unfortunately for you, dark magic always comes with a price. Your elder never paid, upsetting the balance of this world and the next.”
“She paid with her life,” András said, cocking his head. “I’d call that the ultimate price.”
Death turned, laying his bone fingers on András’s shoulders. To my friend’s credit, he didn’t cringe, but his lips pursed with distaste. “Dead by witches’ hands. No blood was spilled when she conjured the demon, and no payment was made before she died. Payment owed tome.”
Of course it was. Istenanya’s tits, things kept getting worse. I cocked a hip, resting a hand on it in annoyance. “Let me guess. You won’t close the door until you receive said payment?”
Death chuckled. “You assume much. Even if I wanted to, I cannot close the portal. This is a mortal affair and demi-gods cannot intervene. I’d have thought you of all people would know that well enough by now, Kitarni.”
