Page 102 of Soul of a Witch

Everly and Juniper had left the greenhouse; their scent was growing closer. It was faint, but even at this distance, I caught a whiff of something that filled me with alarm: blood.

Everly’sblood.

Seizing hold of the demon at my feet, I teleported through the halls, following Everly’s scent. Her eyes widened when we appeared before her, and Juniper immediately shifted into a defensive stance despite having no weapon except her fists.

There was a tiny cut on Everly’s finger, and she swiftly pressed it against the skirt of her dress, trying to hide it from me.

“Let him go, Callum,” she said. “They won’t harm us.”

I’d already forgotten about the demon dramatically gasping at my side. Being forced to teleport was certainly a bit discombobulating, but this bastard was playing it up for his woman’s sympathy. Leaving him to Juniper’s concerned embrace, I went to my witch’s side.

She was uncomfortable. Restless. Her tension did not ease as I banded my arm around her, putting my body between her and the intruders. It made me want to hold her tighter, cocoon her within my wings.

She was watching the intruders as they embraced, their relief at being reunited fiercely obvious. The way they clung to each other, and how the woman positioned herself protectively in front of her demon, filled me with a strange melancholy feeling.

To my relief, Everly leaned her head against my side as she said, “Then we have an understanding, don’t we, Juniper?”

Juniper faced the two of us with a cold gaze. “I kill the Libiri,” she said. “You kill the God. And we stay the hell out of each other’s way.”

There was no forgiveness or comradery in her voice, but I was still impressed. Perhaps I had doubted Everly too much. I didn’t know this woman, but her soul was strong despite being so damaged.

The other demon appeared impressed now too, looking me over with renewed interest. “A God-killer, eh? Were you in the wars?”

Tightening my arm around Everly, I said, “I was. I’ve killed my share of gods.”

“But with an army at your back,” he said. He sounded a bit smug for my taste, and it raised my hackles again. “Still so confident when it’s just you and the witchling?”

He knewnothingof the wars. Like so many demons who had come into being after that time, he took his freedom and safety for granted. The lives of those lost were merely stories told by singers and bards to him, not flesh and blood that had suffered so Hell could be free.

Everly shifted her weight, pressing against me. She laid her palm on my chest. It was a warning — and a reassurance. It quieted the fury in my head, the restless tingling in my limbs.

Kissing her forehead to reassure her, I said, “I don’t need an army, hellion.” Then laying my head atop hers, I lowered my voice. “Make them leave.”

She bid them farewell, and we saw them out of the house and into the woods. Even after they had vanished from sight, we stood in the yard in silence, unspoken fears passing between us.

“I have angered you,” I said, and she looked up at me in alarm.

“I’m not angry,” she said, shaking her head at the word. “I’m just…all of this is…it’s so much. I wronged her. She remembers…” She gestured toward the woods, where Juniper and her demon had disappeared. “She’s going to kill my father, Callum.”

Her voice was strangely void of emotion. She took a slow, deep breath in and didn’t exhale.

Frowning, I said, “Is that not what you want?”

Still, she held her breath. She held it like it was the last wall between her and whatever invisible battle she fought.

“I never wanted to be the one who would decide if others lived or died,” she said.

“That is war, Everly,” I said. “It’s a cruel thing. As many monsters as it destroys, it also creates.”

She turned away with a solemn nod. “You’re right. This is war.”

In the tunnels under the coven house, the air was unnervingly still.

Behind me, there was a distant howl of wind, but ahead, nothing. Only the slow, cold drip of water. The smell of rot and mold.

The tunnel was narrow, the dirt soft and muddy. The path ahead had been sealed, or attempted to be. A wall of wooden slats barred the way, runes carved into the wood to create protective spells.

But they hadn’t been enough.

---