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Leaves crunch and shuffle around me as something dark crouches to my right. At this point, the only thing left of my vision is blurred shapes. My body jostles as I’m lifted awkwardly, the stranger jumping to readjust my weight in their arms.
“You’re not exactly giving me hope right now, Princess.” I can’t see his face, but I know the voice. Asmodeus. The forgotten Prince of Hell. “The king demanded you to be alive upon delivery and right now, you look anything but.”
I’m placed down in a dark room, the lack of light smothering out the world around me. Yet, I can still hear his voice. “Alice,” he says, shaking me. “Answer me. Say something, or for Hell’s sake, at least confirm you’re immortal.”
That’s precisely the problem. I’m not–as far as I know. Even if I could speak, there’s nothing I could say to ease the worry I sense in his voice. There’s nothing I could do to stop this.
“Fuck…That’s a lot of blood. Okay, don’t kill me, but if you can hear a thing I’m saying, I’ll need to lift your shirt. Maybe if I can stop the bleeding and reset your leg, you’ll survive this.” Wow, second base already? That’s a record. He must do as he says, because Asmo falls deathly silent. “Oh… Little Mouse.”
There’s something about that way he says the nickname, somethingfamiliar, beyond the single time or two he’s used it. It’s different, and I can feel the weight of his fear leaching through his words.
I’m going to die. I know it.
“How?” he continues, and I can hear the fabric of his clothes shuffle and the plop as if he’s fallen back on his butt, giving up on the lifesaving effort. “You were dying before the fall, weren’t you? Did my brother do this? Did he poison you?”
Poison me?Oh no… I know where I recognize the dagger from. The library. He’s right, I am dying, and I was long before the trolls came into the picture.
His nails scratch against his skin as he pauses. “Well, let’s hope for all of our sake that you’re immortal. We’re screwed if you’re not.”
6
Kai
It’s been hours since I showed the lords my mother’s memories. When I’d returned at their request, not a single one of them gave me a clue as to which way they were leaning. It’s been hard to think about anything else than my impending fate, should they not support my bid. So, I’ve kept myself busy by visiting Alice’s favorite place. The library.
She’d keep herself occupied within this room for hours. It’s serenity… The aesthetic of the plant life mingled with the leather-bound books, filled with knowledge passed down through the centuries. I hate that even when she’s not here, I’m drawn to her and the things she loves. Discovering the truth of my parents lessened the blow of her trapping me, but it doesn’t take away the sting. Not when the fates remember what she’s doing and grip my heart in an iron fist. It doesn’t take that away, but I have my father to blame for that as well.
I work my way through the shelves, finding the red book I last saw her with. She was placing it back the day she checked out her BDSM for dummies novel. My heart flutters at the idea of diving into a story that once graced her mind. It shouldn’t… I should be pissed–I amstill pissed. Yet, I can’t help missing her.
Finding the book, I slip it from the shelf, reading the title, ‘Whimsical Wooing for Witches.’ Wooing? Why would Alice, of all people, need a book like that? The girl blinks at me and my dick goes hard. Then again, it was in the same section as herotherreading material. So, maybe she does need it.
The pipe dream of whisking away into one of her fantasy realms ends, and I move to slide the book back onto the shelf, only to pause. Something shiny catches the light from the empty slot, and I move the posed book out of the way to get a better glimpse. What is back there? My eyes land on a room that shouldn’t exist. There’s furniture, like an office space, filled with papers and itty bitty stacked books and parcels.
It explains so much. The day I caught her over here, she seemed so… frazzled. She made a secret hideout, but how does she use it?
I pace around the edges of the shelf. The room looks to be the size of my closet, yet the shelf is untouched and only a couple of feet wide. She had to use magic, but there’s still no door to enter. Tilting my head, I wonder… Throwing up my hands, I focus on the image of the space I saw and a portal swirls to life. As I step through, papers take flight and rattle on her corkboard, until the portal itself disappears into thin air.
Well, someone has been busy. I knew she was looking for her parents. I suspected and she told me as much, but this… This is a whole new level of investigator that I didn’t realize Alice possessed. Red string streaks from image to paper, and handwritten notes are scattered here and there, summing up her findings. She’s been piecing together who her parents used to be and the possible locations they might reside.
Thumbing through the books stacked in random piles on the desk, I find that most involve the angel hierarchy. Some are solely about the Watcher Brotherhood, which her father used to head before he kicked the bucket. There’s a biblical tablet in a glass sleeve about how God believes nephilim are abominations, and lastly… A journal. Finn’s journal, to be precise, and I can only imagine how the hell she managed to lift that. The sneaky minx she is. I wouldn’t put it past her to have stolen it without him knowing.
I open the decrepit leather binding, finding that it’s not just a journal, but it’s Finn’s notes on me… Why would he document me? Flipping through the fragile pages, careful not to tear them, I find that most of it is regarding my powers manifesting and things we used to help control the surges that hit hard as I got older. They eventually leveled and stopped all together, but I’d walk in my sleep and occasionally teleport to various places around the seven realms. It was a shit show, to say the least, and I don’t wish to ever go through it again.
She was studying me, trying to understand her power…
I thought Finn would be the best to teach her, considering she was struggling with her witch blood magic too when her spellbinding broke, and I know little about the craft. Not to mention, she needed to learn how to defend herself without magic and power, and Finn’s one of the best warriors in Hell, and lethal as fuck with a sword. And since he helped me work through my power manifesting, I thought it would kill three birds with one stone, but clearly, the power side of things was more of a worry than I gave credit for.
I should’ve been here, and had my father not sent me off to do his dirty work at every breathing moment, I would’ve. If I was here, seeing it for myself, I could’ve helped her. She wouldn’t have felt like she needed to hide it or that it was up to her to figure it out on her own. If and when she comes back, I won’t make that mistake again, assuming we can find a common ground.
The ground jolts beneath me, and the sound of rattling glass and the scratch of wood furniture splits the air. I grip the desk, trying to keep my balance, my wings popping free and stretching out to my sides to help. Then, like a space shuttle crashing to Earth, the castle slams down, and the stone groans from the impact.
As soon as the room stills, I throw my hands out, opening a portal that takes me straight to the foyer. A couple of the lords and ladies have already gathered, gawking out of the large windows at Hell Hold–the town–waiting just outside our door.
We’re home.
The group in the foyer cheers as people rush outside, pausing to suck in the fresh air. Only my feet stay cemented in place. If we’re home, either Alice broke the spell, or… My heart seizes in my chest, twisting so tight that it robs me of air. No… She wouldn’t break the spell. Not this soon. She would tell me Finn was safe before sending us back. I’m sure of it.
That leaves only one probable cause. Alice is dead.
