Page 65 of Underworld
He sneered. “You don’t get it, do you? You shouldn’t have come back. You should havestayed dead.”
I stared at him, stunned.
The scent of blood and roses made my nostrils flare. Numb and blind to everything else, I hardly registered Hendrik had finally found us.
“Dante,” he growled. “That’s enough.”
Cold, metallic magic unwrapped the Hunter’s grip from my throat, forcing him away from me.
Dante snarled at the Dark Mage. “Stay out of this, Hendrik. You can’t protect her from the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” Kaito asked, the silver tattoo running along his cheek shimmering with a faint tint of red.
Dante pulled down his collar, showing the old scar that ran across his throat. “Do you know how I got this one, Lilith?”
“What’s that got to do anything?” I asked, curling my arms around myself.
He grabbed my wrist and forced me to run my fingers over the harsh groove. “Surely you remember.”
My stomach twisted.
“I don’t remember anything,” I muttered softly, but that was a lie. Dante’s violence registered a distant memory, one I had buried along with the rest of my past.
“Then let me paint you a picture,” Dante said. “What’s the first thing you remember after the mind wipe?”
I’d been covered in blood and made my way to Cindy’s door, the Mother of Monsters and a recruiter of Monster Academy. She was probably here, now that I thought of it, along with allied Demonspawn like Jess. They’d probably wisely stayed away from me during the whole Cole dilemma. I had my fair share of demons right now.
When I recounted as much to Dante, he laughed. “It wasn’t your blood, was it? That’s because it was mine.”
My eyes went wide. My gaze shot to Hendrik, then to Kaito.
Flat expressions.
No reaction.
“Is it true?” I asked, hoping for someone to give me an answer.
Kaito lowered his Katana. “It’s true. You slit Dante’s throat on his first attempt to bring you in… when you’d been half-crazed after…” His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard.
“After what?” I demanded.
Dante leaned in, Hellfire burning in his eyes. “After you killed your angel mother, Silvia.”
My blood ran cold.
And then the memories slammed into me.
Because of the nature of my birth and the impact of the Bloodstone channeling Hell’s power, I had come into the world as a Demonspawn. It had taken over a year to shed that form and grow into my gifts. My mother knew the future that awaited me, but she also knew the sacrifice it would take to free me from Hell’s hold.
I needed to rule Hell, not the other way around.
Sacrificial magic was the most powerful magic in the universe. It was why the Blood Witches were so feared, why supernaturals like Hendrik could live forever.
But the cost… it ran too high.
“It’s my fault,” I said, my eyes burning with tears that I’d held in for far too long. My mother had loved the Incubus King, she’d lived on earth as an angel who’d given up her wings.
For me, she had returned to Heaven, shamed, but satisfied because I could live the life she wanted for me.
