Page 109 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and my mind raced at what was being offered to me; binding my soul to a demon—to an archdemon—to complete a spell that might bring Rory back, resurrecting him by the means of the darkest magic I had ever seen. And my soul was the price, should I be willing to pay it.

“If you do choose to go through with it, then it must be done before morning. There is only a small window before the chance is gone, lest his soul drift too far to be brought back in one piece.” His tone was reassuring and gentle with no obvious signs of pressure from him. As much as I knew he cared for Rory and wanted him back as much as I did, he would be willing to let him go if I chose to not do this.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I had to swallow it down before I tried to speak again. “Give me some time.” I had to have at least a few more hours, enough time for me to weigh the decision before I had to make it.

“When—if,” he corrected himself again, “you’re ready, I will wait for you in the spare room.”

I turned and left silently as I sucked down breath after shaky breath. The air felt suffocating, and I closed myself in my room before I allowed my sobs to resurface.

THIRTY-TWO

Ava

My fingertips prickled as I approached the spare room, my heart racing. I stood outside the door for a long time and attempted to steady my breathing. The floor beneath my bare feet creaked as I rocked from side to side, and the silk fabric of the white robe slid over my skin with every movement.

I rested my hand on the cold metal handle for a few minutes, mustering the courage to enter. I didn’t know if I was ready to see Rory’s lifeless body again. But I had made my decision. I wasn’t about to stop fighting for Rory, not after everything. I’d been fighting for him since we met—since I first saw pieces of myself in him. Someone who was a little broken, a little lost, but worth saving nonetheless.

With a deep breath, I pushed into the room. All of the furniture had been pushed to the walls. Every chair, table, rug, and even the four-poster bed was shoved aside, creating a large open space in the center.

Two perfect spell circles were drawn side by side on the hardwood floor in white chalk. Thick black pillar candles lined both circles, each of them placed in a star pattern. A shallow gold dish sat in front of each candle, filled with the spell ingredients Vain had prepared—equal parts gold and silver dust to keep the channels of magic open, ash of an ancient oak tree to amplify the spell’s power, thread spun from the purest silk for binding, lamb’s milk bathed under the light of a full moon to lure a wandering soul, and a raw shard of black tourmaline crystal for protection.

The soft, warm glow of the candlelight cast long, dark shadows to the edges of the room. My eyes fell to the circle on the left where Rory’s body lay in the center, a plush cushion set beneath him. The way his forearms had been dressed in bandages to cover the deep, gouging wounds made my chest cave in, and I had to tear my gaze away to keep my emotions from spilling out all over again.

Vain faced away from me as I shut the door, the candlelight canvassing his form in an almost-ethereal golden light. If I didn’t know better, he could have easily been mistaken for an angel.

He was strikingly beautiful, as equally breathtaking as he was formidable. But as entrancing as he was, the temptation of him and what he was didn’t escape me—a powerful archdemon, a creature born of darkness and domination. And yet, beneath his nature and the thrill of dread he spurred instinctively within me, he was…so much more.

Vain made me feel untouchable. Powerful. Wanted. And more than anything, I felt safe with him. It was a kind of safety I’d never known in my life. The kind where there was no fear of rejection, no desire to be anything other than who I was. The thought was equally as terrifying as it was bewildering.

The hem of my robe hissed along the floor as I padded barefoot across the room. Vain swung his head toward me when I approached, and his gaze pierced me over his broad shoulders. When I paused a foot away, he finally turned to face me, his eyes trailing up the length of my body, which was hidden beneath the shamefully thin fabric. There was none of his usual lustful, smug expression to be found. In fact, he looked somber as he shifted his attention down to Rory’s body.

I might have once believed that Vain only wished to go through with this ritual to selfishly claim my soul. But it was clear to me how wrong I would have been. The truth stared me in the face, and there was no denying how deeply rooted Vain’s affections for him were. How much he truly loved Rory.

We said nothing as we stared at each other. The only sound was the faint crackling of the candle wicks and the whisper of the sputtering flames that danced upon them.

“You are sure of this?” Vain finally spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the silence.

“Yes.”

“And you understand the ramifications?”

“I do.”

Rory had given his soul to save mine. There was no question of whether or not I would do the same for him. I was more than prepared to sacrifice my soul and bind myself eternally to Vain for a chance that Rory might live again.

“Then, we’ll begin.”

Vain tugged a small knife out of the pocket of his robe and lifted the milky white selenite blade between us. I offered my palm to him, and he did the same to me.

Expecting the cut didn’t make the sting of it hurt any less. I couldn’t stop the hiss from escaping through my teeth when Vain dragged the tip of the blade along the flesh of our palms, drawing his black and my crimson blood to the surface. We let our fists hover over each of the gold bowls around the ritual circle until our blood dripped over the offerings before ending at Rory.

“I offer to bind my soul in exchange,” I uttered as red droplets splattered against his bare chest.

Vain’s ichor spilled over mine. “I offer my immortality.”

My head snapped up and Vain’s eyes met mine. I had expected him to make an offering of great power as was required of both participants for the ritual to work, but nothing of that magnitude. I almost couldn’t believe I’d heard him right.

“You would give up your immortality for him? For us?”

---