Page 32 of Demanding Discord
Discord clutched my shoulders again, his expression determined. “Who did you connect with?”
The fog lifted from my mind once more. “It was my mom. Definitely. She’s helping Hecate.”
“Helping her stay hidden?” he asked.
I shook my head, a sickening sensation dragging my stomach downward. “She’s helping her hold the veil together. It’s about to unravel, and it’s all my fault.”
The imp made a chittering sound, and Discord let me go to point a finger at him, shushing him. My thoughts didn’t turn into a cyclone again, but the crisp clarity his touch had brought me began to dissipate.
“How did you do that?” I asked. “One minute, I couldn’t tell my head from a broomstick. Then you touched me, and I didn’t just know the truth, I felt compelled to tell you.”
“Your magic counters mine,” he said, matter-of-factly. “My power causes discord. It brings about disagreement, confusion, lies, and deceit. When I used it on you, it brought out clarity and truth.”
I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “Did you know that would happen, or did you think causing discord in me would be helpful right now?”
“I knew it would have the opposite effect on you.” He clamped his mouth shut in the guiltiest way possible.
“How did you know?” I crossed my arms. “Have you done this to me before?”
“Once, and only for a moment.” He shrugged. “When I realized the effect it had on you, I immediately stopped. It never occurred to me that bringing someone clarity and truth might be beneficial.”
“Because you’re a demon.” I shook my head.
“I am what I am.”
And who could argue with that?
“When did you do it?” I ground my teeth, not that I was surprised he’d tried. My rational mind insisted it was impossible. Sure, I was a powerful witch, but to turn a Prince of Hell’s magic upside down? Come on. He must’ve been tapping into something else, but whatever it was, it worked.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Do it again.” I made a gimme motion with my fingers. “Make me tell you where to find Hecate and my parents.”
He reached for me, and the doorknob turned, making my heart take a flying leap into my throat. Discord pulled me to his chest and backed into a darkened corner behind a three-paneled dressing screen. He made a shhhp sound, calling the imp, and the slimy little bugger obeyed the command, joining us in the shadows as the door creaked open.
I twisted in my demon’s arms to see who came into the room, and Discord must have anticipated the holy shit that tried to escape my lips because he clamped his hand over my mouth to silence me as Lucifer stepped into the chamber.
My body couldn’t decide if it wanted to freeze or tremble. A cold shiver ran from the base of my spine to the crown of my head, and all my blood plummeted to my feet.
Lucifer walked slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, his footsteps barely whispering against the stone floor. His wavy blond hair was gelled perfectly into place, with one lock curling down onto his forehead. A hint of black painted his roots, which meant anger simmered beneath his calm exterior.
I swallowed, and Discord tightened his grip, pulling me closer to his chest. His heart pounded against my shoulder, his chest barely moving with his controlled, shallow breaths. Even the imp barely moved, though I couldn’t tell if he was frozen in fear or by Discord’s command.
My stomach bubbled, no doubt protesting all the strange and unusual foods I’d eaten in the past few days, but thankfully, the sound stayed inside my body.
Lucifer stopped next to the bed and brushed his fingers over the duvet. He inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow breath that sounded like the saddest, most forlorn sigh ever. My heart almost broke for the guy. Had he not put a price on my head and sent all of Hell after me, I would have felt bed for him. Instead, I focused on calming my breathing and ignoring the painful cramp pinching my side.
The devil needed to hurry up and cry on her pillow, beat off on the duvet, or do whatever he came in to do, because I could not stand still much longer.
He turned and sank onto the edge of the mattress. A piece of black moonstone sat atop the bedside table, and he picked it up, turning it over and over in his hands. I swear I saw his lower lip tremble, but with the lighting so dim, I might have imagined it.
Stilling, he gripped the moonstone tightly, and I did not imagine the tendons in his neck tightening like cords, nor did my mind concoct the sound of the stone cracking in his grasp as he groaned. His hair turned jet-black in half a blink, and the moonstone crumbled in his hands. He shot to his feet and hurled the shards against the wall beside us, the impact turning them to fine powder two feet from my head.
Discord went utterly still. He didn’t breathe, probably didn’t even blink, while I, on the other hand, sucked in a quick intake of air, inhaling the powdered moonstone along with it. My eyes watered, blurring my view of Lucifer as he whirled toward the dresser and leaned his hands on the surface. My nostrils flared, my nasal passages burning like I’d snorted a tablespoon of wasabi.
Then came the itch. It started at the bridge of my nose, spreading upward and out to the inner corners of my eyes. Pressure built. My nose twitched, the inevitable sneeze creeping closer and closer to the surface. Discord tensed, a silent warning to do everything I could to hold it in…as if the direness of this situation wasn’t clear.
Lucifer gripped the edges of the dresser and flung it across the room like it weighed nothing. It smashed into the headboard, splintering, spilling its contents onto the floor and mattress.
My nose convulsed like a rabbit, and I held my breath. I would not sneeze. I couldn’t. My legs trembled from standing still, and my head spun. I slowly, carefully unlocked my knees so I wouldn’t pass out. The stitch in my side cramped harder.
