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“She made a deal with him, and we’ve been paying its price ever since. He marked our coven.”
He thought of Rowan’s words the
night before. “So this is about the coven.”
“No, not entirely. It involves only our line—the James witches.” Rowan’s eyes were bright yet they were filled with a sadness that weighed them down. “He claimed Agatha that night, and has come for one of us every generation or so.”
His eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“Our blood and magick. He feeds from us. Uses us. Claims us in every way.”
Azaiel swore, ancient speak that rumbled from his chest. Why would someone like Mallick need these witches? He was a powerful demon lord. It made no sense.
Rowan ran her hand along the tabletop and gazed at the polished floor beneath her feet. The oak was buffed to perfection thanks to their efforts the night before. “The thought of him filled my mother with terror because she knew he’d come for her. There was no one else. My grandmother was too old for his purposes, and as you can imagine, our line thinned. Some of my ancestors refused to have children.” She laughed—a harsh echo that slipped into the empty air. “I can’t blame them. Why would you bring a child into the world knowing it might end up in the Hell realm, slave to that evil monster?” She was lost in thought, haunted by memories. “My mother was a bit of a rebel, which was Cara’s way of saying that she was a boozer and loose—if you know what I mean.”
Azaiel didn’t know how to respond to that, so he remained silent.
“She slept around. Didn’t look after herself.” She shrugged. “Marie-Noelle lived life like she was starving and the only thing that would fill her up were men, booze, drugs, and sex. She lived like she had no future and subsequently lost her reality. She did things . . .” A painful sigh escaped. “Things that no mother should ever do.” Her voice was wooden. “And now, here we are.”
“You’ve been marked.” His words were not a question but a statement of fact.
Rowan nodded. “By the time I was thirteen, she was really bad. Her mind wasn’t strong, and her body was weak from years of abuse. She’d disappear for days, and none of us knew where she’d been. Cara was more a mother to us than she ever was.”
“Us?” he asked, but she continued as if she’d not heard him.
“When he came for her, she was wasted. High on something illegal.” She paused as if lost in a memory. “He was so angry with her, and afterward, she wasn’t the same. I don’t know what he did to her exactly, but it scrambled her brains even more than they’d already been.”
“Where is she?”
“We locked her away, somewhere safe.”
“And where would that be?”
“An otherworld asylum. At least there they can deal with her special needs, and she won’t hurt anyone.”
Azaiel understood. “So Mallick marked you instead.”
“He would have taken Nana, but I begged him not to. How could I live without my grandmother?” She smiled—a bitter whisper of a smile. “Nana was furious with me, but it wasn’t the first time I defied her. I was a bit of a bad seed myself.” She hunched her shoulders. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
He found that hard to believe. The woman before him seemed well put together and in control.
Silence fell between them, and Azaiel let it pass as he watched Rowan closely. Her young face was tight with memory and tragedy. The tears that reflected like mirrors in her eyes remained unshed. The girl was strong, and considering what she’d just imparted, she was going to have to remain so. Mallick was no bottom feeder. He was pretty much the top of the food chain down below.
It changed everything.
“He marked me as his property.” She sneered. “Said he’d come for me when I was older.” She ran her hand through the tumble of hair at her nape, her voice bitter as she spoke. “He was gracious enough to let me have more time to develop my powers.”
“A demon’s mark, especially the kind put down by one with as much power as Mallick, can’t be denied. And yet he searches for you.” Azaiel thought of the dullness to it and arched a brow. “How have you managed to hide from him?”
“Nana,” she whispered, “was exceptional. She conjured forth such magick I can still feel the caress of its power.” Rowan blinked several times and cleared her throat. “She closed the eye, and Mallick’s mark has been blind ever since. We thought . . . we hoped that it would be enough. That if he couldn’t find me, he’d turn his attention elsewhere, and we could find a way to break his claim on our family.”
“Mallick is a formidable demon to call enemy.”
She nodded. “He killed my grandmother because I was too weak and pathetic to stand up for myself. What was I thinking? I never should have left. Deep down I knew he wouldn’t stop until . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Azaiel stepped forward.
“Until what?”
“Until he finds me,” she spit out. “He’s hunted my family down like we’re animals, feeding off our blood and magick for hundreds of years, but it ends here.”
