Page 90 of Filthy Little Witch
I sighed, perhaps knowing this was coming, and forced my tired muscles to stand.
Whatever we’d done to get out of there had amplified the bond, and now, I didn’t know where I ended and Atlas began. In many ways, our lives had always been like this, more extensions of each other than separate beings. The magic had only made it physical instead of metaphorical.
It was the first time we’d been alone together since we got out, and the sudden pang of what I’d done echoed in my chest like the world’s loudest tuning fork.
“Atlas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“I could fucking clock you right now, you know that?” He scoffed and shook his head. “But I love you too damned much, and I’m just so fucking happy to see you.”
I couldn’t stand the separation anymore. I rushed to him and threw my arms around his neck, yanking him closer. He returned my hug, squeezing our chests together, tucking his face into my neck. The warmth of his body soothed some of the ache in my heart, and when I sensed our witch getting closer, I glanced up at the door just as it opened.
Marta stepped through, her gaze shifting between the two of us before she launched at our embrace. I wrapped an arm around her as hers came to my hips, and together, the three of us took our first collective deep breath since coming home.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” she said when she stepped back. Her dainty hands balled into fists, and she shoved my chest, knocking me back a step. “I could kill you.”
“I know.” I hung my head. “I thought I was saving you. I thought you’d both get out if it weren’t for the demon.”
“We had a plan,” she snarled, trying to keep her voice low. “We were going to get out anyway.”
“You didn’t know that,” I admitted. “It was going to tear the place apart with us inside it.”
“I had it under control,” she said, but even as the words infiltrated the space between us, I tasted the lie in them. None of us had control. We were puppets, toys, entertainment for a nasty soul that had ripped its way out of hell and refused to go back.
“What happens next?” Atlas asked. “We’re under the microscope, but if I have to be apart from you two again, I’ll fucking lose it.”
“Me, too,” Marta said. “I think whatever I did in the church has made the bond?—”
“Unbearable,” I finished for her. What I didn’t say, what I couldn’t say, was that I still felt it inside me. When the demon took hold, when I finally gave myself over, it settled in my soul like a permanent brand, fiery and cold, stinging and scalding. I would never be able to get rid of it entirely, and I worried about what that would mean for them. How much did the rituals truly connect us? Were they in danger because of what I did, what I’d become?
“We made our choice, and now we live with it,” Marta said. “It will be a while before we fully understand the consequences.”
“What happens in the liminal stays in the liminal,” Atlas said.
“Let’s hope it’s that easy.” Marta rubbed her hands over her face and back through her hair. “All I know is I’ve been itching since we’ve been home. Being with you, being here, this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe.”
“Same here,” Atlas said. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his body for another long hug, pressing his lips against her forehead and inhaling her deeply. And suddenly, I felt like an intruder on their intimate moment. My mind conjured images of me in Marta’s bed, Atlas standing at the edge with his hands on his hips, unsure if he should join us.
I didn’t remember anything about what happened after the demon took hold of me. One second, I was standing outside, making the deal, and the next, I was on the ground, writhing and burning as the world spun around us. I’d awoken to the worst pain I’d ever experienced while Atlas screamed and Marta exploded with bright white magic. Then, we were in the veil.
Marta and Atlas explained the highlights to me. The demon had tried to battle Marta, and Atlas knocked it out. They dragged me into a demon trap and banished it, but doing so had cost her.
She had to give up a piece of her soul to do it.
But that didn’t seem like the end of the story. Something was missing in me, too.
“Come on,” Marta said, nodding to the bed. She grabbed my hand with her free one and tugged both of us over to the mattress. She slid into the middle while Atlas circled to the other side, and I climbed in behind her.
We lay like that for a few moments, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing, and I debated with myself about whether I should tell them the truth. But in the end, how could I keep it from them? They deserved to know.
“There’s something wrong with me,” I admitted. Both Atlas and Marta turned to face me. “I think…I think the demon’s still inside me.”
“No,” Marta said. “I banished it.”
“I feel rotten,” I continued. “It still burns.”
“It’s the liminal,” Atlas explained. “I feel it, too. Whatever we did in that church fucked us up.”
“I’m empty,” Marta said, glancing down as she interlaced her hands with mine. “I know I banished Asmodeus because a piece of me is missing. Wes, we all feel it.”
