Page 99 of The Fallen
"A witch-hunter I met recently." Her gaze lingered on Desmond purposely, and Lucien believed her ploy.
"I see," he said. "But I'm not sure you are right for the organization, my dear."
"Aren't I?" She gave him a twisted smile. "I know that witches exist. One of them hexed my family. Spawn of the earth, they are, and I wish to eradicate them."
"Is that so?" Lucien's eyes darkened as his smile deepened. "In that case, take the staircase to the underbelly of this manor after the ball commences. I shall be waiting for you." He paused, taking in Desmond dancing with his wife. "And bring that witch-hunter of yours, as well."
“I look forward to it, my lord.”
CHAPTER 4
Belladonna and Desmond descended into the underbelly of the manor. The descent was a labyrinth of winding corridors and hidden doors, leading them deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. Finally, they reached an underground chamber dimly lit by flickering torches. A small crowd had gathered in hushed anticipation. In the center of the room, a pentagram was drawn on the floor, surrounded by a circle of candles.
“And now, dear friends, we continue The Great Work once more.” Lucien stood beside a large, iron cage and pulled back a sheet covering it. Two young women, their faces pale and frightened, were huddled together inside, gagged and bound. Lucretia, her eyes gleaming with a sinister light, joined her husband, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
The crowd of cultists erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the chamber.
“If you would do the honors,” said Lucien.
“Gladly, my dear.” Lucretia dragged the witches out of the cage and placed them in the center of the pentagram.
Lucien held a lit candle, its flame flickering ominously. The cultists began to chant, their voices rising in a crescendo:"Burn them, burn them."
The flame followed the shape of the pentagram, imprisoning the witches in a ring of fire. The chant continued, their voices growing louder and more frenzied.
"Save them," Belladonna cried out.
“Yes, mistress.” Desmond stepped across the fire, his feet barely touching the flames. The fire seemed to fear him, its heat dissipating as he approached the witches. Effortlessly, he extinguished the flames, and the witches fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
“Go,” Belladonna hissed to them. “Run.”
Lucien's face paled. "What sorcery is this?"
Belladonna faced him, pulling off the wig. "It’s the power of a demon.”
“You,”said Lucretia. “How dare you?—”
“Desmond,” said Bella coldly.
“Yes, mistress.” He approached the crowd in languid strides, his polished heels clacking against the stone.
"Demon, burn him," a few shouted, raising their torches.
Desmond chuckled a low laugh, his eyes glinting. He raised his hand, and a wave of dark energy swept through the room. The torches went out. Lucretia and the cult members were thrown to the ground like they were nothing more than straw dolls. Belladonna watched in awe as Desmond unleashed his power. She had never seen him so terrifying and magnificent before.
A vise-like grip squeezed her throat. Lucien had snuck up behind her.
“You fucking witch.”
“Let…me go.”
“No one touches my mistress so familiarly.” Desmond’s voice thundered in the chamber.
Lucien squeezed harder, and in a blink of an eye Desmond had come behind him. He gripped the half-rat's arms, releasing the chokehold on my throat. I gasped a sharp breathful of air.
“You seem quite attached to these,” Desmond hummed, yanking the man’s arms.
Realization dawned on the half-rat. “Stop,” he breathed.
