Page 117 of Bedeviled

His mouth curves into a hungry smile. “Love it when you look at me like that, Empress. I can’t wait to fuck that fire out of you later.”

He leans in and gives me a quick kiss, retreating before I can sink my fingers into him. “I’ll make this quick. Please stay mad in the meantime.”

The survivors are few and far between, and by the looks of it, most of them have demon venom running through their veins.

Again and again Memnon incants the Moche curse-breaking spell, his words carrying across the field to where I rest with my back against Nero.

“Honestly, the audacity of the man to spell me to the fucking ground,” I say to my familiar. “If he weren’t helping my sisters right now, I’d hex his ass.”

Nero glances over his shoulder at me and his look says, you are so full of shit.

“You could side with me for once, you know,” I say.

He yawns in my face, and I grimace as I get a whiff of overgrown cat breath.

I return my attention to Memnon, though it’s hard to watch him pass over many of the witches dotting the earth, knowing those are the ones that cannot be saved.

The smell of soiled earth becomes nearly overwhelming then. Blood has an unforgettable smell. Stand amongst enough butchered dead, and you’ll notice it. Raw with a metallic tang.

From nearby comes a soft, pained cackle. I glance over my shoulder toward the sound, convinced it’s another coven sister who’s survived the ordeal. Instead, I see one of my spell circles. Within it, one of the previously sliced up demons has now partially reformed, though her breathing is wet and labored.

My eyes rise to hers just as Memnon moves on to another witch on the opposite side of the field.

The demon sees me watching. “You think you’re safe?” she wheezes. Her head shakes back and forth in almost exaggerated strokes. “All the power in the world cannot keep you safe from my mistress’s wrath, Roxilana.”

I stiffen as, for the second time that evening, I hear my ancient name.

The demon’s eyes glitter. “Eislyn sends her regards.”

CHAPTER 25

I feel myself go cold all over.

This is Eislyn’s doing?

My gaze moves over the field once more. I thought I hadn’t underestimated how dangerous the fairy was. But I cataclysmically did, and now there are dozens of supernaturals who lost their lives because of it.

The demon cackles again at my expression.

“You have no idea the things she will do⁠—”

Her voice transforms into a gurgle as indigo magic slices through her neck, and her head topples down her torso before landing in the heap of her limbs.

Through the haze of magic, Memnon comes to me, his eyes alight with that unholy glow again.

He doesn’t bother looking at the demon he just decapitated. His gaze is trained on me, my clothes splattered with black blood, my limbs trembling from pain and exhaustion.

“Eislyn is behind this attack.” The words tumble unceremoniously from my lips.

The sorcerer’s own mouth thins. “I know,” he says grimly.

“You do?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

He gives a solemn nod, his hair still billowing from his magic. “There are only a handful of people who know your Sarmatian name.”

Eislyn being one of them.

And here I assumed the demons learned the name from the Hungering Ones.