Page 78 of Hunter

“I don’t believe it works that way. Hell has already had a taste of torturing you. It will seek an offering no matter what their outcome.”

“An offering? An offering of what?” Hunter asked.

“Or who?” Viktor added.

“I have a suggestion,” she said. “It’s a bit of both.”

“We can’t sacrifice anyone. I won’t do it,” Willa protested.

“This isn’t my first, what I’d like to call misunderstanding with a demon.” Ilsbeth stood and walked to the corner of the room. She retrieved a bottle of cognac off a shelf and carefully set four snifters onto the granite bar. She unwrapped the foil off its top, continuing to speak as she poured it. “My nerves. I’m not quite myself yet, I’m afraid. They did unspeakable things. I…” She sighed. “Perhaps it was penance for what happened with Dimitri. And although I now walk the earth, the wolves, others, they judge my actions. They all know I’m too powerful to kill. And this place I’m in now,” Ilsbeth lifted a glass, her hands trembling as she brought the rim to her lips, sipping at the golden-brown liquor, “we’re in Louisiana. I cannot go into New Orleans for quite a long while. I’m safer than I’d be in the city but not truly safe. You had no permission to take me from Hell. I had no permission to leave. So, I, too, would like to make an offering.”

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “What kind of offering would possibly suffice?”

“I’d like to make a proposal.” Ilsbeth crossed the room and handed them each a snifter. “And before you ask, it’s just cognac. No spells. No poison.”

Willa cupped the snifter, warming the glass with her hands. She kept her eyes on Ilsbeth as she once again sat down to join them.

“I have an impressive library. Research on creatures. Data collection dating back a couple of thousand years. I believe there is an artifact, that in this particular instance, will sate the demon. The wolves though…they must be killed.”

“Consider it done,” Hunter assured her.

“The reason you are no longer with your parents. The battle that led to your exile. There was a King and Queen. At first when they mated, they were in love. The Queen, while a wolf, practiced the craft, exploring the hellfire in her veins.”

Willa said nothing, recalling her new power she’d used to move the brush with her mind.

“The King. He enjoyed the temptations of the flesh.”

“As men should,” Viktor quipped.

“Outside of the approval of his mate. She was unhappy. Unloved. But the bonds of the mate are strong. Too strong to break with witchcraft alone. She called on the Alpha of the wolves of six to kill the King using demon magick. They killed him. Then they skinned him and with the very skin of the King, the Queen created a book.”

“A skin book?” Willa’s nose crinkled in disgust.

“He dipped his pen in the ink of too many wells and got himself turned into a damn book? That seems a bit drastic,” Viktor laughed.

“While humans date the practice to the sixteenth century, it’s actually much older. Unusual but what better way to capture the essence of a human or creature?” Ilsbeth answered directly.

“What’s in it for you? Because I know there’s always something in it for you.” The Alpha placed his palm on the arm of the sofa, shaking his head.

“I see this as a way to appease the demons.”

“What else?” Hunter pressed.

“Spells. The Queen. Supposedly an ancient. She wrote spells. I’m a collector. If I can touch the book, I can absorb them. But the book must be delivered to the demon.”

“What’s the catch?” Hunter asked.

“There is no catch. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy to get it. It’s hidden. If you can find the book, and that’s if, we will have to summon the demon and then banish it back to Hell.”

“We can’t just kill it?” Viktor asked.

“No. It’s a higher-level demon. Destroying it, at least at this point, while I’m weak, it’s simply not an option. I believe if we offer the book ourselves, he’s likely to go back to Hell. If this is to be done, we shall do it together. But we must kill the wolves. We can’t allow them to get it.”

“I killed one of them on my territory already. Five to go. They’ll either be looking for her in Guatemala, where they found her, or here in New Orleans.”

“New Orleans?” Ilsbeth asked, a lilt in her voice.

“Kellen. The fae. He’s the one who helped them find her in the first place. He came snoopin’ round my territory and I kicked his ass back into the fire. My guess is that he’s not going to be hangin’ out in that bar on Frenchman anytime soon.”