Page 21 of Soul of a Witch

“I would command you to live up to your name,” I said. It seemed to pique his interest as he raised an eyebrow. “Magni Deicide. God slayer. Is it true? Have you killed a God?”

He dropped another cube of sugar in his tea and slowly stirred. “It’s true. I’ve killed many.”

His words snatched the air straight out of my lungs. “You’ve killed…many? How?”

“Mm, suddenly very eager for conversation, are we?” He sipped his tea, black eyes watching me over the flower-painted rim. “Why does a witch who barely wants to touch her magic need to know how I killed a God?”

“To prove you’re not a liar.” Although it was difficult to tell, it seemed as if he rolled his eyes. “If you truly did it, if you’re not just trying to trick me, tell me how.”

The amusement on his face disappeared. He set down the tea cup and remained leaning toward me, elbows resting on his knees.

“How did I do it?” He said it as if he’d asked himself the same question a thousand times, and the answer was one of the universe’s greatest mysteries. “With the lives of 10,000 friends and lovers. With blood. With pain and fury. War is not so different, regardless of where you are in this dimension. Living beings give up their own lives so others of their kind can survive.”

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. Callum was so different from the unhinged monster I’d met last night. Calm and introspective, but there was feral energy lurking just beneath the surface. He continually snapped his fingers, with no rhythm nor reason to it.

“Was that what you wanted to know?” It sounded like he was teasing me. “Or did you want another answer? Something simpler perhaps? There’s nothing simple about escaping from a God. Not once It has Its eyes on you.”

Frowning, I picked up my cup of tea. The steam wafted in my nose, carrying with it the scent of bergamot and vanilla. It was more bitter than sweet; exactly how I liked it.

“What do you know about me?” I said, mirroring his position as I settled back in my chair. “You already knew my name and my father. What else do you know?”

“I’m beginning to suspect I know more about you than you do yourself.” The snapping of his fingers grew louder. “I suppose I should level the playing field. That’s something you humans still say, eh?” He rose from his seat, using his foot to shove the chair out of his way. “It’s difficult to keep track of language. Humans change things so quickly. Especially with your internets, forums, cellular devices…” He crouched, brushing bits of dust and lint from the floorboards. Then, using the sharp claw on his thumb, he pressed the tip against his opposite wrist and drew it across. Thick blood as black as ink dripped from the wound.

He continued, “Demons are adaptable, but Hell changes much more slowly than Earth. I suppose it’s easier for us. We don’t bother with so many of the petty rules and regulations you humans put upon yourselves. We simply live.”

He dipped his fingertips in the blood streaking from his wrist and drew upon the floor. Lines, dashes, and a crescent were drawn out in blood, stark against the caramel-colored wood.

“I regret my poor behavior last night, Everly.” His eyes were still focused on the floor. “As an offering of a good will, I would like to remind you that you do indeed have teeth. You could choose to bite, if you wished.”

When he stood up, what remained on the floor was a strange symbol: a half-circle with a series of lines and dots within. I stared, speechless, my heartrate ramping up again.

“Do you know what that is?” he said.

“Yes. Your sigil. Your name.”

“Perhaps it will help you feel safer. Write it down somewhere, or trace that mark with your fingers, and it will be very easy to compel me to obey you.”

Shaking my head, I scrambled for a response, “That’s not…no. No, that’s far too simple. Demons don’t just obey.”

“We obey easily if we’re willing.” He looked at me as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh at me or eat me. Perhaps both. “And you will find I am quite willing indeed.”

“A demon doesn’t just give up their sigil.Whyare you doing this?”

The way he lowered his head as he looked at me made my belly do somersaults. “Do I need a reason?”

“Yes! There’s always a reason. Shit, I know I’m weak, but I’m not that ignorant. You want something from me. People always want something. There’s always a price!”

Aghast at my own outburst, I sharply drew in a breath and fell silent. Perhaps he’d kill me now. Perhaps this was the moment he’d steal my soul, spill my blood and take me for himself. Out of all the fates that could have befallen me, for some reason, this one barely frightened me. An eternity in Hell couldn’t be any worse than an eternity as a God’s puppet. Perhaps this was even preferable.

My life had never been my own, always controlled and manipulated by the hands of others. It only made sense my death would go the same way.

But the demon didn’t lunge for me. He didn’t look angry. In fact, the moment I raised my voice, he looked thrilled.

“You’re not ignorant. But you’ve been intentionally misled. You’re not weak.” He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, lady witch, quite the opposite. You could kill me if you wished, and I don’t know how I can convince you of that, but I know someone who can. Your grandmother. Winona.”

“My grandmother is dead,” I said, wondering if I had any chance of sprinting from the house before he managed to kill me.

“And death has made her more unbearable than ever.” He winced and rather sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck. “She’s not fond of that assessment but is very fond of you. And eager to speak with you.”

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