Page 132 of Soul of a Witch

“We have yet to hear her demon speak,” Lucifer said, gesturing toward me. “Why does he believe that pursuing this execution is worthwhile?”

Leaina made a face as she turned to him. “Callum is bound to her. They made a bargain, asyoudemanded.”

For a moment, Lucifer looked at her as if he wanted to bite her head off. Not that he’d have a very good chance of doing so — Leaina wasn’t one to fuck with. None of them were.

But if Lucifer wanted me to speak, fine. I’d fucking speak.

“I am bound to her,” I said, speaking loudly enough for all of them to hear but looking only at Lucifer. “I swore my service, my protection, my guidance. By that oath, and that oath alone, I am compelled to kill the God that is terrorizing her. But I made another oath too, a long time ago. I stood before you in this very courtyard and vowed to defend Hell from all enemies, to destroy those who would destroy us. The gods intended to wipe us from existence and succeeded in killing far, far more than they ever should have.”

Everly stepped closer to my side, her fingers twining with my own.

“Perhaps you fear that I could die, Lucifer,” I said. “Perhaps you fear it so much that you would drive me away, that you seek to take my free will. We’ve both lost so many and I once thought you were callous and cold for attempting to forget that. But your pain is as great as mine. If I die, like the others, then I will die in their names. For all those we lost.”

Bael once again whispered in Paimon’s ear.

“Lucifer would do well not to allow his emotions to cloud his judgment,” Paimon said, and Bael nodded in agreement.

Lucifer winced, his eyes darting away as his pride was stung. He’d loved me once. Perhaps he still did. But the end of the war had torn us apart. When I refused his mark and left Hell, he’d taken that rejection personally.

He hid his fears behind control and viciousness, but he was no fool. He knew there was no other choice.

“I give my consent,” he said.

In unison, the council members lifted their hands. They sliced sharp claws across their opened palms, allowing the blood to well and run down to their wrists. Everly and I did the same; Everly using a small knife on her belt to cut herself.

“First blood had been drawn,” Paimon said in a voice that echoed with the vast ages of time. “Now go to war.”

47

Everly

The moment Callum and I teleported back into the house, I knew something was wrong. The vines on the walls were shriveling and gray; the air was so cold I could see my own breath.

Callum growled, baring his teeth. “Something is in the house.”

“We need to find my grandmother,” I said. “Now!”

When I teleported again, he followed me. In the kitchen, I found the old radio sitting on the table and hurriedly turned up the dial. “Grams! Grandma, are you there?”

Static. Nothing but static.

“Winona!” Callum’s voice shook the walls, and another wave of static poured from the radio.

Faintly, within the buzzing, I could hear a faint voice. “...infestation! Got in….night, It…Darragh can’t hold It…”

“There’s too much interference,” I said. Rapidly turning the dial, I tried to find a station that had a clearer signal, but they all carried the same static. Except one.

The radio suddenly fell deathly silent. There was a faint sound, so soft I had to turn the volume all the way up and lean my head close to the speakers.

Drip. Drip, drip.

Chills went over my arms, and I looked up at Callum in alarm, but he was staring at the radio.

“Turn it off,” he said softly.

Then, from the speaker, came a voice. It was ragged with pain, sharp with hysteria as it spoke in a grating whisper, “Everlyyyy…I miss you, sister…”

My stomach lurched. “Victoria?”

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