Page 36 of The Fated and the Damned
“You can’t be serious,” I scoffed, gaping at him. “You’re the king of the Under World, are you not? Can’t you command the demons to stay put?”
He floated towards me, his robes billowing out, the stench of decay climbing my nose until I felt so sick my eyes were watering. “And what makes you think I want to?”
I bristled as the coldness of his breath scraped along my cheekbones, but my insides heated with anger. What use was having power of his proportions if he refused to use it? Dante watched us carefully as Death got a little too close for comfort, his hands blatantly moving to the hilts of his swords, not that they would be of any use against the harbinger himself.
András’s sidelong look begged me to keep calm, to not react to Death’s baiting.
He should have known better.
“Your precious wife planned to overthrow you, conquer the Middle World, and claim ownership to all kingdoms. She may not have succeeded, but her interference and agreement with Sylvie created a ripple that affects us all. Youoweme.”
Faster than I could blink, Death grabbed my throat, his bone fingers wrapping tightly around my neck before he lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. My legs flailed as I hung like a limp doll, at the mercy of the supernatural being before me.
“Unhand her,” Dante snarled, his blades out in an instant as he charged. András joined him, his own sword angled, grim determination on his face, because they both knew their attacks would be futile. But they did it because we were family, and goddess bless their soft and squishy hearts for trying.
Death didn’t even bother looking at them as he stretched one finger out, flinging them away so hard they each careened into a tree trunk and were bound by smoky tendrils of black.
I wanted to scream, to cry out in anguish, but I could only choke as my vision shuttered, my pulse fluttering feebly in my neck.
“Let me make one thing clear,” Death hissed quietly. “I owe younothing. I am death. I am despair. Mortals don’t know the meaning of fear until they step into my world. Once, witches revelled in my power, and humans likened me to a devil. What I am is so much worse.”
“Maybe so,” I rasped as his fingers eased ever so slightly. “But with all that power, you cannot touch me. Not yet.”
Those curled fingers of his released me, and I thudded to the ground unceremoniously. I gulped in precious air, looking to Dante where he thrashed against his binds, a murderous gleam in his eyes, the muscles in his neck corded as he strained. I nodded my head just once, to let him know I was ok. He didn’t look any less menacing, but it was worth a try.
Death leaned back, smoothing his robes and conjuring a throne made of smoke and shadows to sit upon as he regarded me. His voice was tinged with mirth as he spoke, and I imagined him to be smiling.
“In all my years, I’ve never met a witch so bold as to bite back. None except Sylvie, at least. You manage to surprise me, little one. I enjoy your tenacity and our little visits. I wonder if I’ll enjoy torturing you even more when your time here is up.”
I blinked at him. “Lucky me for having such a gentleman caller. Is that how you treat all your friends?”
Death chuckled, the sound grating down my bones. “Be grateful it wasn’t worse. Now, ask of me what you seek. I have been away from my land for too long.”
I shook my head, not even bothering to go there. Time hardly mattered when you’re eternal, so why the rush? The fact he was impatient at all suggested all wasn’t sunshine and roses downstairs—or whatever passed for the Under World. I really had no idea what to expect of it. But if he was eager to return, perhaps his reign was still in danger after all. From Fate? Or from the demons? I tucked that little kernel of information away, focusing on my current task.
“I wish to make a bargain with you.”
He cocked his head. “You are yet to fulfil the last promise you made. Don’t think I have forgotten about the crown, girl. I am waiting, and my patience grows thin.”
I smiled sweetly. “You will have the crown. Retrieving it, however, will be easier if you assist me with our little demon problem. Surely it’s in your best interests to have them locked back in your own realm? Not to mention a certain wife of yours who, not so long ago, was aching for the power of the crown. If you’re not careful, other precious creatures might find their way out that door. Creatures who, this very minute, might already be planning their escape.”
Death was preternaturally still as he looked at me—through me, it felt like. When the tension had stretched so taut I feared he might snap, he purred, “A blood spell will close the door. One already in your possession. You need only consult the tomes kept in the care of the all-seeing one.”
My fingers itched with the urge to burn his robe to cinders. Why must every answer always be in riddles with these damnable demi-gods? I sighed, pawing at my eyes as I considered his words. There was really only one woman who fit that description. A woman with a penchant for bloodmorphia and a sass that made mine look like child’s play.
“Margit.” I smiled coolly. “So once the door is closed, will that send any demons on this plane back to hell?”
Death steepled his fingers. “Their connection will sever, and they will return to the Under World.”
Good. That was one problem solved. There was no way we’d be able to defeat demons on top of Sylvie’s army. It was a long shot, but I quirked my brow, pacing the clearing. “Any chance you have any knowledge rattling in that skull of yours that will help us win this war?”
Death laughed, cold and merciless. It was answer enough.
“Mortal affairs,” I said irritably, blowing out a long breath. “Right, got it.”
He rose, floating towards me eerily and stroking a knuckle to my cheek, then running his hand down my bruised neck, seeming to delight in whatever he saw there. Or maybe he was savouring the memory of hurting me. Who knew with him? He was hot and cold, helpful and then decidedly not.
“Always a pleasure, my dear,” he rasped.
