Page 106 of Demon's Bride

“A shower,” she finally mumbles. “And then sleep.”

It’s barely midday, but she seems in danger of passing out at any moment, so I scoop her up again and carry her to the bathroom. She moves like she’s still half-dazed, slow and clumsy as I help her bathe and dress in her robe. The trust she places in me to help her like this is humbling, as is the sound of deep contentment she rumbles against my skin when we make it back into the bedroom and I lay down with her on clean, warm sheets.

“I’m going to try,” she says sleepily as we settle against one another.

My breath catches in my throat. “Try what?”

She laughs a little. “You know what. The bargain. On the night of the full moon, when I’ll have the best chance, I’m going to try.”

“Allison,” I whisper, but she’s determined to have the last word.

“The Goddess chose me once. Maybe it was for a reason.”

Her tone is half-dazed, far away, and it does nothing to dispel the black fear that settled itself into my gut the moment she collapsed into the grimoire.

“We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Allie makes a soft noise of protest, but it’s only a minute later that her breathing evens and her body grows limp and heavy against mine. She falls asleep against me, still placing so much trust in me. Trusting me to hold her close and keep her safe, trusting me even when she’s so vulnerable.

I smooth the hair back from her face and frown. Her cheeks are reddened from the heat of the shower, and when I place a hand on her forehead, she doesn’t feel feverish. Her breathing stays low and even, and when I place an ear against the center of her chest, her heart sounds strong.

Still, I can’t shake my worry as I stare down at her.

What manner of magick was she subjected to today? How did it affect her? Part of me wants to shake her awake, reassure myself she’s still in there, while the more rational side recognizes her scent and magick keeping me company even while she sleeps. My Allie is still here, though I’ll never stop being afraid of losing her again like I lost her for those few agonizing minutes today.

An hour passes and nothing changes, and still I keep my vigil. It’s not until a soft knock at the chamber door draws my attention that I regretfully disentangle myself and rise. Allie barely stirs, only lets out a soft little sigh and relaxes into the pillows.

Felix stands on the other side of the door, face grim. He glances into the room behind me, but I block his view with my chest, still too rattled to be anything but brutishly protective of her.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “My apologies. I only came to see if you were both well.”

“We are fine,” I tell him, stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind me. “What is it?”

“More bad news which needs your attention.”

In his hands, a report containing news of a wildfire in the southeastern territory, a storm blowing in on the western coast.

With a sigh, I hand it back. “Give me a moment.”

Inside our chamber, I scrawl a note and leave it beside Allie, letting her know where I’ve gone. I can only hope she doesn’t wake before I’m able to return, whenever that might be.

And as I head back to the throne room with Felix, I leave every piece of my soul there with her.

Chapter 38

Allie

The next week passes in a blur of dread and desperation.

Those feelings only grow with each book read, each page flipped with no useful information. Even with the newfound ability to read whatever language the grimoire is written in, and even with a demon library full to the brim with rare, ancient books to explore, I get nowhere at all with my questions.

How does the soul magick that drives the bargain actually work? What does a witch need to do to harness her own? How likely is it that all of this is going to be for nothing, and that trying to use my soul magick in the Veil is going to leave me a withered, dead husk?

The brick wall I come up against time and time again is that there are really no answers at all. Not for soul magick.

Each time it’s referenced, the authors of the tomes I spend hours poring over seem to have the same basic opinion about it. It’s exactly what it sounds like—the essence of a witch’s power laid bare for the Goddess, an expression of everything she is and every bit of magick she possesses. It’s rare to find reliable accounts of witches who’ve been foolish enough to even attempt it, and rarer still to learn of those who’ve succeeded.

Even for the first witch, whose story is referenced in a history of the demon realm that goes back some three-thousand years, it only says that she used her soul magick to seal the bargain. It doesn’t say how, or if she ever left a first-hand account of her experience. Even in her own grimoire, it’s not mentioned anywhere amongst the pages of admittedly impressive but ultimately unhelpful spells.

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