Page 4 of Witch’s Ruin

“Lord Wielder!” she snapped, irritation seeping into her voice.

“Careful, Lady Witch, or I’ll put that demanding mouth to work sooner rather than later.”

Her cheeks flushed, eyes darting down to his lips.

He sighed, relaxing his muscles and said, “It wasn’t necessary, no. I did not mean to lose control like that. It’s…it’s this fucking place. I hate it here.” He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Forgive me, Lady Witch. I do not take kindly to disrespect, not when it is towards you. You were right to rein me in.”

“Forgiven, of course,” she said, keeping pace beside him. She rubbed her chest, eyes growing distant.

He watched the motion. “What’s the matter?”

“I…” She blinked, then swung her gaze towards him. She had the most beautiful hazel eyes, but lately, they often tended towards black, usually when she was distraught. It should have been vile, but it was the opposite. He watched as a tinge of darkness crept into them, felt his heart kick up a notch. “There’s something here. Something…demonic. I didn’t feel it much until we passed through the walls.”

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “Then…my father wasn’t tricking us?”

“I don’t know, Rix. I…” She closed her mouth and frowned, glancing about. He was usually watchful, but was purposefully avoiding it, mostly because he couldn’t bear to look at the city that felt like a prison. Cities were considered safe, free of demons, but he had more than demons to worry about now that he was back.

He knew his father, knew what Maddox Kozma was capable of. His father would kill Mina if he got the chance. The general’s pathetic attempt at assassination was child’s play.

Grinding his teeth, he forced himself to look upon the city he’d abandoned. Forced himself to take in the familiar construction of the houses, stacked two and three stories high. Forced himself to look upon the people that would someday be his people.

Acid climbed up his throat.

He knew what Mina didn’t. His father always won the games he played. She might be powerful, but his father had decades of carefully honed cunning, and an entire kingdom at his command. He rubbed the back of his neck, swearing under his breath. He’d always known, in the end. He’d always known there would be no escaping his father.

“I’ve never seen a people so unenthused about witches,” Mina murmured, keeping her voice low. He was pulled from his dark thoughts. “It’s like they were mocking me at the gates. What’s…what’s going on here, Rix?”

His lips pressed into a tight line. She was right. Aside from noticing their hurried nature—everyone rushing to get indoors, which was also odd—their hostile gazes were hardly welcoming. A few even hissed—fucking hissed at her.

He rubbed his tongue along the roof of his mouth, thinking. This had his father’s fingerprints all over it. The game, it seemed, had already begun. The king had already poisoned his city against Mina. Against—

A scream ripped through the air, sending chills down his arms. Mina froze, eyes going wide. Around them, those on the street shrieked then disappeared, slamming doors behind them, clicking latches into place. Mina’s head whipped around to look at him. He didn’t like what he saw written on her face. Without a word, she spurred Jarrow off the street, down a wide alley between buildings.

With the sunlight fading to dusk, the shadows around them stretched and morphed. Mina bounded off Jarrow’s back, hands already in motion, her knives pulled free. He was on her heels.

What he saw made him falter. “What the fuck?!” he hissed, his stomach twisting. Against the wall, two demons ripped into the flesh of a human—what was left of one—as the mangled body gurgled and then fell silent.

His blade was drawn before he registered the motion. Between him and Mina, the creatures’ heads were sliced clean, bodies crumpling to the ground. The human, now a gory heap, was unrecognizable. Mina swore, wiping and stowing her blades out of sight before kneeling, hovering her hands over what was left. He cleaned his blade on a rag from Ferrah’s saddlebags, then put it away.

“Dead,” Mina concluded. “I cannot save them.” She surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides, looking over the mess of blood and gore, some of it smeared on the brick wall. It looked like dark splotches in the muted light. The stench of iron and demon, like putrid filth, surrounded them.

Mina’s throat bobbed, bobbed again. He felt as speechless and shocked as she seemed to be. “I…I don’t understand,” she managed at last, eyes darting about the alley.

He huffed. Neither did he.

On cue, several warning bells rang out through the city. His head tilted, listening. “Curfew bells, Lady Witch.” He knew every message beacon, even if it had been nearly two decades. “We have no way of identifying the body. No one else will be able to, either,” he added, keeping his voice low. “Burn what’s left.”

She gave a shaky nod, making quick work of it. “I felt them,” she whispered, turning her wide eyes on him. “I…I can feel it, Rixon. Something here.” A shiver raced down his spine, a scrape of claws. Her hand went to her chest again, rubbing.

His eyes lingered on the motion.

“It’s been a long day, Lady Witch. The sooner I get you settled, the sooner I can breathe again. We can get this sorted after a hot bath.”

“Right. Of course.” She turned, her arms hugging her stomach as she curled in on herself.

He stepped forward, pulling her against him, wrapping her up. His cheek found the top of her head. She relaxed against him. A few seconds passed before he tilted her face up and kissed her forehead. She relaxed further, the blacks of her eyes returning to normal. He nodded towards Jarrow, then took her waist and lifted her into his saddle. She barked in protest. It always riled her when he did this; he didn’t care.

He swung into Ferrah’s saddle and led them from the alley. They didn’t pass a single person. Everyone was tucked away behind walls, their windows glowing with light, spilling out and casting bright spots along their path.