Page 111 of The Demon Prince

He couldn’t understand it either. But he’d seen the life wasting away from Spite. The dark cloud of a creature had slowly turned into something pale and lifeless. A fraction of what it had once been. Even its ability to speak had left.

He reached out with his hand and gently pressed his fingers into the white mist. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he could usher its death along. Gluttony had consumed spirits before, and though that wasn’t part of his life anymore, he could do so again if the creature wished. It was a fitting end to a creature who had fed off of others. To be eaten wasn’t a dishonor amongst their kind.

But when he touched Spite, there was still the faintest thrum of magic. A power that wasn’t like the creature he had touched so many times before.

A surprise.

Eyebrows raising, he stared down at the little spirit and muttered, “It cannot be.”

“What?” Katherine asked. “What cannot be?”

He reached for the spirit, letting the liquidy mist pool through his hands as he scooped up the spirit into his grip. He was less gentle than Katherine, so it didn’t slide away onto the floor. Instead, he made sure that it was carefully cupped, but firmly trapped.

Lifting the spirit to his eyes, he peered into the mist and said, “It shouldn’t be possible.”

“What shouldn’t be possible?” Katherine snapped. “You’re acting like you’ve found some wonder of the world.”

“Because I might have.” Slowly, he stood and started out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“To the lab.” Because he wasn’t actually seeing what he was seeing. It should be impossible. Spirits were spirits, that’s all they were. Only he and his brothers had changed, and that was unusual in its own right.

Although Greed would disagree. Considering he had given two spirits physical forms, and that alone was supposed to be impossible. So there were deviations to the rules, but this rule was one that wasn’t supposed to be possible at all.

Katherine trailed along behind him, wringing her hands every time he looked at her before finally breaking through her silence the moment he deposited the spirit onto his table.

“What is going on?” she asked, rounding the table so she was right in front of him. “Are you going to answer me or not?”

“Not,” he muttered, grabbing his glasses and sliding them onto his nose.

Apparently, that was the wrong question. Katherine snatched his glasses off and dangled them out of his reach. “Explain, demon.”

He sighed, pinching his nose before resolving himself to answering questions while he did his investigative work. “Spirits are born a certain way. We are spirits of an emotion, this much you know. But it has been rumored that a spirit subjected to a certain amount of emotion can turn into another.”

Her brows swept together in a frown. “Explain better.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he grumbled before grabbing his glasses back from her. “A spirit of justice who loses a war repeatedly will eventually become a spirit of vengeance. A spirit of hope who only sees death and dying will eventually become a spirit of despair. It is a very rare phenomenon to happen, and usually only happens to spirits like myself and my brothers. Stronger spirits who have been around for a very long time. Spite is a very young spirit.”

He glanced down, frowning at the creature, who was now nearly as white as snow. He had to admit, this was the most likely circumstance. This little spirit had done a lot of work here. It had tried very hard to break both of them with its spiteful words and had managed with Gluttony many times over. But it had never broken Katherine. And it had spent a lot of time with his lovely human.

“Or at least, I thought it was a younger spirit,” he muttered. Peering down at the mist, now actually able to see better with his glasses, he searched for the little specks of darkness that should be in the mist.

“What are you doing now?” Katherine asked, her hands coming into view to help hold the spirit, even though it wasn’t moving.

“I’m looking to see if there’s any remaining part of its original essence,” he muttered, prodding the white mist with one of his metal rods. “If it isn’t changing, and it’s dying instead, there should still be specks of darkness. Shadows of its former self. We could save it, perhaps, if we gave it enough food. There isn’t enough here. Don’t get that into your head, Katherine. Neither of us are capable of enough spite to feed this spirit.”

He felt more than saw her pout. She would do anything to save it, he knew, but that didn’t change their situation. Even if they ran to the town and set it loose, Spite would likely die. There just wasn’t enough food.

However... “Do you see any darkened spots?” he asked. “I want to be certain that what I’m seeing is what is actually happening.”

“I only see a white mist,” she said, meeting his gaze over the weakened spirit. “So, what does that mean?”

Pulling off his glasses, he set them on the table and leaned back in shock. “Then it’s changed.”

“Into what?”

He almost shrugged and said he didn’t know, but... he did. And he knew exactly why it had changed. “Spite spent a lot of time with you, didn’t it?”

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