Page 48 of Demanding Discord
She squatted on the roof, resting her hands in the cleared space and leaning down to peer at us through the glass. The woman wore a black dress, reminiscent of the time I’d spent in the earthly realm, and her sneer was one of pure malevolence. My heart dropped into my stomach before a spark of rage ignited in the core of my being.
“Who is that?” Cinder asked, clutching her makeshift weapons tightly. “Another friend of yours?”
“That,” I growled, “is Isabel.”
18
CINDER
“Isabel, as in the bitch who cursed my bloodline?” I tightened my grip on the machete, anger making my blood burn in my veins. But anger wasn’t the right word. Resentment, maybe fury. No…
What I felt was pure rage.
“The one who tricked me, stole the amulet, and locked me in the dark prison for four centuries.” Discord fumed, his voice dripping with malice as his muscles tensed. “The reason for all our strife.”
Isabel grinned wickedly through the glass. Too many teeth filled her smile, sharp and pointed, erasing what little humanity she might have possessed. She rose to her bare, calloused feet, a tattered black skirt billowing around her ankles as she lifted a leg and stomped on the roof.
The glass cracked around her heel, fissures jutting in every direction, and Discord and I backed away. She stomped again, fracturing the roof even more. As she lifted her foot a third time, I dove beneath a table.
She shattered the glass. The entire roof crashed down around us, and I shielded my face against the shards as the most wicked witch of all descended upon us.
Discord did not follow my lead. He stood there, stance wide, ribcage expanding and contracting with his forced breaths, his skin bloodied from the raining glass.
Isabel floated to the ground, her bare feet landing in a pile of broken shards. She twisted, bending her body at an unnatural angle to sneer at me beneath the table, and the glass crunched. She winked and straightened, stepping toward my demon, and I expected her to leave a pool of blood where she had stood.
A few shards stuck in the soles of her feet, but she didn’t bleed. Not even a little.
Discord let out a guttural roar and charged toward her. I scrambled from my hiding spot as his fist connected with her jaw. Her head jerked back, but her wicked grin widened, amusement dancing in her solid black eyes.
She hit back, landing an uppercut to his chin and pissing me right the eff off. The sound of his lower teeth slamming into his top made my jaw ache, and I wasted no time letting her know. I lunged forward, jabbing the machete into her back with enough force for the blade to protrude from her chest.
I yanked it out, ready for her to fall to her knees so I could take off her head, but she just stood there, her laugh too deep, too distant for it to be her own.
And my machete? Not a single speck of blood. That pissed me off even more.
I spun and swung, the blade passing through her neck with little resistance. The action should have lobbed her head clean off, but it didn’t even leave a scratch.
“I will torture your soul for all eternity for what you’ve done.” Discord drew a claw-like tool from his belt and slashed at her chest. She laughed harder, and he tackled her.
“You seduced me. Humiliated me. Stole four hundred years of my existence.” Pinning her arms at her sides with his knees, he wailed on her, landing punch after punch.
Still, she only laughed.
“This isn’t right.” I moved behind him and hacked at her legs. Again, the machete passed through them, not even causing a scratch.
“She will pay.” Discord continued his assault, his chest heaving with the exertion of pommeling his sworn enemy.
I put the trowel back on my belt and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think that’s her.”
“Of course it is.” He jabbed the claw tool into her throat.
“No, Discord. Feel her energy. That’s not a witch. That’s nothing that was ever alive. She’s a tulpa.”
Isabel’s menacing laugh deepened, and she turned to smoke beneath him, reforming on her feet, her image shimmering with demonic magic.
“You’re smarter than you look, foul witch,” she said in Ruin’s voice.
Discord stood, his hands curling into fists, the tendons in his neck taut and protruding. “You dare toy with me?”
