Page 104 of Hellish Witch

He took a moment, seeming to gather himself. “Healers can lose their magic…by giving it away. If you heal someone already falling into death’s embrace, you’ll give too much of your power.It might never replenish.Allyour magic will leave you. Is that…what happened to you, child?”

I shook my head, a niggle of fear worming its way in. What would life be like if I couldneverheal someone again? Just a few weeks without the ability was a nightmare.

The thing that made me valuable gone forever in a single act?

Terrifying.

“No.” I swallowed thickly. “My magic has turned…dark. Instead of healing, it hurts people.”

The admission had guilt squirming through me. I wasn’t particularly squeamish. Being raised in violence had a way of stripping that from you pretty quickly. To survive as a hybrid in Hell, you couldn’t be afraid of getting your claws bloody.

It was that I should be helping people, and I wanted to, but I was only hurting them instead.

Something akin to relief slackened the elder’s features. A few minor details seemed familiar, like the slope of his nose and the curl to his short hair.

It was strange, looking for myself in him.

“That which can be given can also be taken away.” He chuckled with a relieved shake of his head. “It’s perfectly fine, Eve. In fact, it’s a sign of your power. It’s the strongest expression of the healer affinity, to reverse the body’s natural healing process.” His merlot eyes gleamed with what I might have called pride. “When your magic lashes out withdarkness, as you put it, it’s your power unhealing old wounds. Some say it even siphons energy from the act. It’s incredibly rare.”

His words stunned me into silence.

Was my magic not just whole but somehow powerful?

Valuable?

I searched his beaming face for any hint of a lie. I’d never heard of such a thing, but then again, I’d been raised by demons,not mages. My chance to grow up as a happy, sheltered mage like Alvie was taken from me when the succubus who’d spawned me couldn’t even be bothered to inform my father.

My fang found my lower lip as I tried to think it all through. “But why would it keep lashing out when I didn’t want it to? And it’s been stopping me from healing others,” I said, struggling to believe that my magic wasn’t as broken as my mind.

He shrugged. “My best guess? It’s instinctive. A defence mechanism. Magic tends to manifest at times of high stress. Judging by the state of your…friend,you’ve been in quite the pickle recently.”

Why did everyone think we were friends except the demon himself?

I shot Killian a glare through the windows of the clinic. A stern woman with bright-white hair held glowing hands over Killian’s wing, concentrating on her work. The demon only had eyes for me though.

Orion cleared his throat. “Is that when you’ve felt your magic acting out? An animal backed into a corner will lash out to protect itself.”

All the puzzle pieces were slotting together.

It made perfect sense when he put it that way.

When my darkness had first manifested, I’d been locked in a cell, battered and bruised and forced to watch one of my cellmates die on some sick scientist’s operating table.

I’d hardly been able to heal anyone since then. My time in the hunter’s clutches had damaged me to a point where I’d felt broken, and my magic had responded accordingly. As if the danger were still present.

The only times it had felt calm was when Killian had fed me, giving me protection and power and a sense of safety I’d never get enough of.

“I can see that you’re thinking this through. It’s a lot, all this too”—he gestured a soft-looking hand between us—“must be difficult to take in.”

I bobbed my horns, thoughts still reeling.

A sympathetic frown rumpled his brow. “Eve, if I’d have known Lilabell was pregnant…” He shook his head, blowing out a breath like someone stepped on his chest. “I hope you believe me when I say I would have travelled through Hell and back to get you. I’d love the opportunity to get to know you now, though, if you’ll let me.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that. The old mage seemed sincere, but I’d never been one to trust easily. Life had taught me not to.

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He held up his hands in surrender, showing neatly blunted human nails. A small sigh escaped his lips as he gazed up at the sky. “I know it’s too much too soon, but the goddesses clearly had a plan because tonight is the coven’s annual initiation ceremony for new mages.”

I’d heard of a coven initiation before. Zoella had told me about hers, only half-completed, before she’d managed to remove her anchor mark, setting her free from the coven who’d been responsible for her pain.

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