Soul of a Witch: Chapter 46
Nothing could compare to the sunrise in Hell. As Everly slept peacefully in my arms, I watched that massive fireball rise, straight out of the churning sea, bathing the city in its light. It warmed my face, kissing my skin as it streamed through the open windows.
It had been so long since I’d set foot in this home, laid in this bed. Yet it remained unchanged, as if I’d never left. No demon in Hell was left wanting for shelter, so if a living space was abandoned, it usually remained untouched. But I’d spent so long on Earth that I still felt surprised when I walked in the unlocked door and found the suite exactly as I’d left it.
Some demons preferred massive living quarters. I did not. The suite was simple, occupying one floor of a great tower overlooking the sea. Demons lived both above and below, but I couldn’t hear them. The walls were well-insulated, even for one with such sharp hearing as me.
A thousand years ago, I’d left this place because I couldn’t bear the pain. Everywhere I went, every site, every smell, every poignant memory, was so filled with agony that I couldn’t bear to remember. I cast it aside, I put it behind me. The work of a warrior is never done and that was what I clung to: the war in Hell may have ended but the war against the gods had only begun. What else could I do except fight? It was all I knew.
Except it was different now. The memories were still there, and fuck, they still hurt. But like precious ancient relics, I could handle them with care. Turning them over in my mind, remembering with as much delicacy as I could manage. Happiness was sheltered in those memories, buried within them like seeds waiting for winter’s frost to thaw.
Perhaps grief didn’t ever truly end. Perhaps it only changed, growing with me. It no longer led the way, it merely existed beside me. Sometimes, in moments like this, I could forget about it entirely. The memories of those I’d loved and lost were as soft and warm as the rising sun.
This could very well be the last sunrise I ever witnessed. This journey to Hell could be the final time I set foot here. Death did not frighten me, nor did pain or suffering.
I feared emptiness. I feared the lonely expanse of a future without the one I loved. As I looked down at my witch sleeping soundly in my arms, I was filled with an emotion that wasn’t rage, or terror, or desperation, but felt like all three at once.
I wanted to hoard her like precious gold, lock her away like a work of art to be protected.
But no art gallery, museum, or gilded cage could possibly be worthy of her. None of them could contain her. A life being sheltered and hidden away would be poison for her beautiful mind. She needed freedom. She needed to spread the wings of her power and fly as high as she could go.
I wouldn’t stop her. I’d gladly risk my own life if only to stand beside her every step of the way.
She stirred as the sun fell over her face. I sheltered her with my wing for a while, to give her a few more minutes of rest, before allowing the light to wake her. She lifted her head, her arm moving lazily to drape over my chest as she snuggled into my side.
She surprised me when she gave a long groan and swore under her breath. “My ass is so sore, Callum. It’s all your fault.”
“All my fault? Don’t tell me my wicked witch won’t accept some of the blame.” She groaned even more, and I laughed. “I seem to recall you wantonly begging me for it.”
“Oh, hush.” She slapped my chest and leaned in for a slow kiss. “As if you’re above wanton begging yourself.”
She reached down, wrapping her hand around my cock. When she slid off the bed and onto her knees, she swiftly proved herself right that I wasn’t above begging at all.
No one, not even the eldest of demons, knew how the onyx citadel came to be built. It crested a mountain comprised entirely of black stone; its shining towers so tall they disappeared into the clouds on overcast days.
A long, steep stairway was carved into the mountainside, surrounded by a forest of moon trees, with their pearlescent white bark and emerald-green leaves. Thin streams of water trickled over their roots, spilling eternally from the wellsprings deep underground. The water flowed through the city below, nourishing our plants and churning the great water wheels until it eventually reached the sea.
Standing at the foot of that stairway was meant to be intimidating, an experience of shock and awe at the sheer size of the castle above. It was impossible to look at those towers and not feel something: whether it was fear or awe, joy or comfort.
The first time I’d ascended those steps was when I’d been named the leader of Hell’s army. When Lucifer promised me a seat on the council if I returned victorious.
The last time I’d made this arduous climb, I had indeed returned victorious. But it was a poisoned victory, toxic and rotten. The accolades they’d offered me meant nothing. The praise for my strength and bravery were empty words.
None of it brought back the dead. The glory I’d thought I wanted was empty and cold.
Everly took my hand and squeezed, wrenching me back to the present. She was dressed in a sheer skirt that brushed her ankles and a short top that wrapped around her throat and exposed her stomach. It was difficult not to stare at my sigil, scarred beautifully onto her slightly rounded belly.
She’d been eating more since living in House Laverne, finally having access to enough food whenever and however she wanted it. Her scent had changed since coming here too, becoming even sweeter and brighter.
“Are you ready?” I said.
“Are you?”
Lifting my hand, I kissed her knuckles. “With you by my side, I’m ready for anything.”
The moment we set foot on the stairs, the council became aware of our presence. There was no visible change; no ringing of bells or sounding of an alarm. But high above, the archdemons who watched over Hell were assembling, readying themselves for our presence.
As we neared the courtyard at the peak of the staircase, clouds billowed around us. The cool air shrouded Everly in a haze, making her appear ghostlike as she walked ahead of me, still holding my hand. We passed under a stone archway, dark red vines twined around its surface, and entered the citadel’s courtyard.
On the opposite side of the yard, six silhouettes were visible in the fog. Hell’s council was composed of some of the oldest and most powerful demons ever known; dwarfing me in their age and the magic they controlled. Bael and Paimon, the oldest of the six, covered their faces with red veils, pinned to their hair with metal circlets encrusted with jewels. In all my years of existence, not once had I seen either of their faces. Then there was Caim, with his long jet-black hair and coat of dark feathers. Murmur was his opposite, her hair as white as fresh-fallen snow and long enough to brush the ground like a cape.
Lucifer and Leaina stood in the center, both of them dressed in red from head to toe. Leaina’s gaze was as sharp and observant as ever, but Lucifer’s expression was unreadable.
If that dramatic bastard was still angry with me, we were going to have it out right here and now.
We stood for a moment in silence, facing each other across the courtyard. Then Everly stepped forward, without dropping my hand, and inclined her head. “Council, it is an honor to be granted an audience. I am Everly Laverne, daughter of Heidi, granddaughter of Winona. Grand Mistress of Laverne Coven.” She lifted her chin, looking as calm and confident as a witch well beyond her years. “I come to ask your permission to execute an enemy of Hell.”
It wasn’t Lucifer who spoke, but Caim.
“It’s been a long time since a witch set foot in this courtyard,” he said. The other council members nodded. “That is strange enough. But even stranger is that you do not come alone and are accompanied by a demon who is not in your thrall. A demon who is regarded very highly by all of us.”
“An unusual witch indeed,” Murmur said, her voice sweetly soft. She stepped forward, although she kept her distance, circling us as she tapped her chin with a long white claw. “Callum, our Magni Deicide. How very long it’s been since I last had the pleasure of seeing you. It gives me joy to see you return so healthy. So strong.”
The difference in my strength since claiming Everly was doubtlessly obvious to them. They would feel it when they looked at me, sense it when they smelled me.
Silently, Bael took a step forward, leaning toward Paimon. They whispered in the other demon’s ear, far too softly for me to hear. Paimon nodded, and without removing their veil, said, “Why does a mortal witch seek to destroy one of Hell’s enemies? Given the fraught history between our kinds, Lady Witch, it could be argued you are an enemy of Hell, yourself.”
“I am bound for Hell,” she said. She laid her palm over her scarred stomach. “My soul will rest here for eternity. When Earth is done with me, Hell will have me, and I intend to protect my second home.”
Leaina gave a small nod as she looked at Lucifer, who sighed heavily. Murmur suddenly stepped closer, extending her hand toward Everly.
“How very brave you are,” Murmur said, clasping Everly’s hand. Lucifer looked disgusted. Caim appeared intrigued. “A mortal woman, facing a God…and under such unusual circumstances. You are risking so much.” Her black eyes narrowed slightly as she let Everly’s hand go. When she touched my witch again, it was to trace her fingers very lightly across the scars on her body. “An archdemon gave you his sigil and you did not use it against him. By the actions you’ve chosen, you’ve bound yourself even more tightly to our world. You are a witch of Hell.”
Murmur stepped back, clasping her hands before her as she looked back at the other council members. “But perhaps, Lady Witch, you do not understand how dire the situation has become.”
The warning in her voice alarmed me. “What do you mean?” I said. Lucifer had averted his eyes from me, but looked back when I took a step toward him.
He said, “Last night, a Reaper tore through the Veil and arrived on Earth. It was summoned.”
It was Everly who spoke up and said, “Summoned by who?”
“By the God,” Leaina answered. “It has infected a host. A second sacrifice was made, and the third is in the hands of those who call themselves Libiri. She, too, will be offered soon.”
Everly gasped, grasping her chest in alarm. Ripples of anxiety poured over her, although she struggled to keep her expression neutral.
“Raelynn,” she choked out. “Did they —?”
In a voice like gravel, Paimon said, “That woman still lives. It was one of your bloodline that was consumed by the God, and it is your brother who now carries part of It within his flesh. His body cannot sustain It for long.”
“The God is desperate,” Caim said, fingers stroking slowly over his feathery robe. “It knows that It is under threat. It has become more aggressive in response.”
Everly’s emotions had gone cold. Her hands were clenched at her sides. “My bloodline…you mean my sister. Victoria. They killed her?”
Her words were steady, but her heart was pounding erratically. Lucifer, ever-so-slightly, inclined his head toward her. “Yes. Your sister Victoria was killed, consumed by the God.”
For a moment, Everly closed her eyes. Heat rolled off her, the air shimmering faintly around her until she took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more.
“The Libiri have Raelynn?” she said, and Lucifer nodded. “Then there is no time to waste. Once more, I ask for your permission to kill our enemy.”
Lucifer said, “And if I refuse?”
Everly clasped her hands in front of her and said calmly, “I have my own free will. I ask for permission as a gesture of respect. But with or without your consent, Council, this God will die by my hand.”
For a few long moments, the only sound on that cold mountaintop was the howling wind.
Then Murmur said, “I approve her request.”
“If Murmur approves, I do as well,” said Caim.
Leaina spoke up, “As do I.”
“We have yet to hear her demon speak,” Lucifer said, gesturing toward me. “Why does he believe that pursuing this execution is worthwhile?”
Leaina made a face as she turned to him. “Callum is bound to her. They made a bargain, as you demanded.”
For a moment, Lucifer looked at her as if he wanted to bite her head off. Not that he’d have a very good chance of doing so — Leaina wasn’t one to fuck with. None of them were.
But if Lucifer wanted me to speak, fine. I’d fucking speak.
“I am bound to her,” I said, speaking loudly enough for all of them to hear but looking only at Lucifer. “I swore my service, my protection, my guidance. By that oath, and that oath alone, I am compelled to kill the God that is terrorizing her. But I made another oath too, a long time ago. I stood before you in this very courtyard and vowed to defend Hell from all enemies, to destroy those who would destroy us. The gods intended to wipe us from existence and succeeded in killing far, far more than they ever should have.”
Everly stepped closer to my side, her fingers twining with my own.
“Perhaps you fear that I could die, Lucifer,” I said. “Perhaps you fear it so much that you would drive me away, that you seek to take my free will. We’ve both lost so many and I once thought you were callous and cold for attempting to forget that. But your pain is as great as mine. If I die, like the others, then I will die in their names. For all those we lost.”
Bael once again whispered in Paimon’s ear.
“Lucifer would do well not to allow his emotions to cloud his judgment,” Paimon said, and Bael nodded in agreement.
Lucifer winced, his eyes darting away as his pride was stung. He’d loved me once. Perhaps he still did. But the end of the war had torn us apart. When I refused his mark and left Hell, he’d taken that rejection personally.
He hid his fears behind control and viciousness, but he was no fool. He knew there was no other choice.
“I give my consent,” he said.
In unison, the council members lifted their hands. They sliced sharp claws across their opened palms, allowing the blood to well and run down to their wrists. Everly and I did the same; Everly using a small knife on her belt to cut herself.
“First blood had been drawn,” Paimon said in a voice that echoed with the vast ages of time. “Now go to war.”