This is what I get for thinking I could actually do something that mattered. For thinking I could make him pay. For thinking I was capable of anything except being a victim.
I sigh and rest my forehead against the cold glass.
Failure tastes bitter. Worse than the tea.
I turn away from the window. I should probably clean up the summoning circle. Put the carpet back. Pretend this never happened and get on with my small, ordinary, powerless life.
I walk back into the living room.
I stop.
There are eyes in my summoning circle.
Glowing blue eyes, blazing in the darkness like sapphires on fire. Not red like Hex’s. Blue. A blue so vivid and intense it burns.
Just eyes. No body. No form. Just eyes floating in shadows that are somehow darker than the darkness around them.
The mug slips from my hand.
It hits the floor and shatters. Tea and ceramic shards spray across the floorboards. The sound is obscenely loud in the silence.
The eyes don’t blink. They don’t move. They just stare at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.
I’ve caught a shadow being.
“Little witch,” says a voice from the darkness. It’s deep and smooth and controlled in a way that suggestsenormous power being held on a very tight leash. “We should talk.”
My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. My magic surges instinctively, defensive, ready to fight or flee or do whatever it takes to survive.
But I don’t move. I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, staring at those burning blue eyes in my living room.
This is Dis. The weapon who carried out a coup. The usurper who sat on Hex’s throne. The being who ordered my flat burned down and wanted me to burn with it.
And he’s trapped in my summoning circle.
The realisation hits me all at once, crashing over me like a wave. The spell worked. It actually worked. He’s here and he’s bound and he can’t leave until I let him go, and I have absolutely no intention of letting him go.
I have a former shadow king trapped in my flat above a coffee shop in Bristol.
This is insane. This is the most insane thing I’ve ever done.
“You’re smaller than I expected,” Dis says.
It makes me bristle immediately, hot anger flooding through me and burning away some of the fear. I’m short, so what? I would have thought an interdimensional being would be above such stupid human observations. Height doesn’t mean power. Height doesn’t mean anything except where I shop for trousers.
“And considerably more startled,” Dis continues, those blue eyes narrowing. “Did you not intend to summon me?”
I find my voice. It comes out steadier than expected, which is a small miracle given that my entire body is shaking. “I intended exactly this.”
“Did you.” It’s not a question. The blue eyes narrow further, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “How foolish.”
We stare at each other across my living room. The shattered mug lies between us. Tea seeps into the floorboards.
“Welcome to Bristol,” I say. “You’re going to be here for a while.”
The eyes burn brighter. The shadows around them shift and swirl, he’s not deigning to manifest into anything solid, but the binding is holding. He can’t leave the circle. Can’t do anything except exist as eyes and darkness and fury.
“You have made,” Dis says, very quietly, very carefully, “a significant mistake.”
