Page 3 of A Study of Blood and Ichor

I knew that it was a mistake. Never before had a demon elicited that kind of response from me. Lena stiffened, and I knew that I would hear from her later—but not here.

The demon’s attention glided back to me, satisfaction and awe reflected on the features of the human face it wore. Its lips parted slightly, and I was sure it was going to respond with another foul remark, but Lena cut in instead.

“Let us speak with the human you possess.”

I was grateful when the demon finally pulled its attention away from me and back to her. “I’m afraid not, witch. He won’t be coming out to play. He’s a little shy, and to be honest, I’m much more fun anyway.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed as she concentrated her magic into an incantation I knew well. The familiar words flowed from her lips, and immediately, the human’s body twitched in response as the demon within fought against her. I did not attempt to hide the smug, satisfied grin that formed at the corners of my mouth at the sight of its struggling.

The metal rings overhead spun faster, their soft vibrations quickly turning into a rapid whir. The chains rattled angrily, and the demon growled through gritted teeth while it strained against the magic as it attempted to maintain control of its vessel.

But however powerful the demon was, its strength had been severely diminished within our wards. The veins in its arms and neck bulged, its muscles vibrating with tension until the incantation finally finished and the human fell forward.

The wake of silence that followed was almost as unsettling as the demon’s presence had been. For the moment, the demon would remain trapped in the dark recesses of the human’s mind where Lena had driven it back, but it would resurface once it was able to regain some of its strength.

The man knelt with his head hung low, swaying slightly as he became reacquainted with his autonomy. His chest rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths. He looked like he might collapse onto the stone floor at any moment.

“What is your name?” Lena asked, her voice gentle but firm.

There was no response, only the sounds of him dragging air into his lungs and the crackling fire from the braziers echoed throughout the room.

“Your name,” Lena repeated, sharper.

“Rory,” the man said, his voice gravelly and hoarse compared to the smoothness of the demon’s. He did not lift his head. “My name is Rory Masters.”

Unease twinged in the back of my mind. I couldn’t place why, but my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. I wondered when the last time was that Rory had been in control of his body.

“Are you aware of what has happened to you?”

Still on his knees, Rory shifted his weight and placed a hand on the stone floor within the pentagram as if attempting to ground himself. His movements were slow and careful as he eased upright. That’s when the wrongness struck me.

Rory was…calm. There were no pleas for help or mercy, no screams of terror or pain.

I had witnessed several possessions in my twenty-three years, and they had been mostly the same. The humans that had been turned into vessels for unspeakable horrors usually went mad after succumbing to a demon’s presence. Many tended to claw at their skin, shredding straight through until they hit bone. Some gouged their eyes or dug at their eardrums until they bled. Once, I witnessed a young girl snap her own neck before we had a chance to exorcise the demon from her. Those screams that had turned her throat raw and bloody still haunted my nightmares.

But Rory showed no signs of any torment. He seemed almost resigned to his fate, kneeling there in the middle of the pentagram while a demon leeched off his soul, just beneath the surface of flesh and bone.

“You’ve been possessed by a demon and have been brought to our coven so we can help you.”

Rory didn’t respond, his silence testing Lena’s already short patience. It was clearly not the sort of reaction she expected from him either.

“You are safe here, and we will do our best to take care of you in the meantime until we're able to perform an exorcism. The pentagram and wards are merely for your protection and ours.” Lena said. Her bedside manner certainly left something to be desired.

I couldn’t help but to feel a deep pity for Rory. He seemed so empty and broken in his silence.

“We will speak again soon,” Lena said. She turned on her heel and made her way out of the Hull, giving me a hard glare as she passed.

I paused for a moment to give the man one last look, which was a mistake. Rory’s piercing gray eyes lifted to meet mine, and my heartbeat faltered before racing into a gallop. Quickly averting my gaze, I followed Lena and the others into the hall. Relief flooded my chest the moment the heavy doors groaned shut behind us.

“Ava, my study. Now,” Lena barked.

My cheeks burned as she led us out of the cellar and through the tight corridors to her study on the first floor of the estate.

Luke and Thomas broke away, the former ignoring my presence altogether, and the latter offering me an encouraging yet sympathetic look. I gave Thomas a tight-lipped smile in return before following Lena inside.

She didn’t bother shutting her study doors after we entered, and I didn’t dare close them myself unless I was asked. The High Witch illuminated the sconces with a flick of her wrist as she positioned herself behind her desk and placed both hands on the rich mahogany. “I have an assignment for you.”

I was surprised she wasn’t first breaking out into a lecture for my mouthing off to the demon before.

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