Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Zinnia

The wind blew outside the castle. As she numbly sat on the couch in front of the fire, she stared down at the small vial gripped in her shaky, paint-stained fingers. It was full of something dark and noxious smelling. She was so cold, empty, broken. A tear slid down her cheek as she pulled out the cork and poured it into her mouth. Pain burned her throat and gut, scorched through her veins. Blood coming from her nose and eyes dripped from her chin onto her hands. She screamed, but not from the pain—from the relief.

The room spun away to another place, looking through another female's eyes—no, this time, I was looking through my eyes.

Death stood among the trees, his cloak covering him. Snarls and growls came from beneath his hood.

Rage.

He slammed his staff down on the ground, and the earth shook beneath my feet.

"Mors," I called, running toward him, but he was moving farther and farther away from me. I called his name again, trying to reach him.

The world around me froze, and so did I.

Death tilted his head back and roared.

I gasped, shoving back the covers as I sat bolt upright. Then I was frozen, trying to find purchase. I was caught between the horror of the first vision and the desperate fear of the second.

Gods, I didn't know if my brain had conjured the vision of me and Death, or… or if that really had been him and something was terribly wrong.

Rubbing my face, I tried to wake myself up as I slid my feet into the slippers Jazzy had waiting for me and dragged on my favorite oversized cardigan that Else had knitted me years ago, which reached my knees. Hemy scurried across the mattress, and I held out my hand so he could run up and perch on my shoulder. He burrowed under my hair. "Morning, my sweet boy."

I walked out and found Jaz was at the kitchen counter. She was smearing butter on toast and had a butterfly of some variety on top of her head. "You have a good sleep?" she asked, lighting up when she saw me.

I pulled my earplugs out and held them up. "Thanks to these, yes." I popped them in my pocket. "Listening to my sister enthusiastically bone her mate isn't something I ever want to hear again."

She flushed. "Oh shit, sorry."

I shrugged. "It was gross, but it also made me happy that you're so happy and apparently getting laid really well."

She snorted and shook her head. "Yes, I most definitely am, but let's never mention that again." She held up her toast. "Want some?"

"Deal." I rounded the counter and popped two pieces in the toaster. "Ren home?"

"Nope, he had to go to work." She poured me a coffee and slid it over. "How's the head?"

"I mainly stuck to Mags's potion, so not bad at all. Our cousin has a gift," I said and took a sip.

"She really does." Her gaze held mine for a moment, and I saw the questions there, so many, but she took a bite out of her toast instead.

Now would be the perfect time to tell Jazzy everything that had happened. She was dying to ask me how my time in Limbo had been, but everyone tiptoed around the subject now, though. They waited for me to bring it up first, because I'd made it clear that's what I wanted. I opened my mouth to tell her what was happening, but the words wouldn't come out. I didn't know where to start or how to make her understand the way I was feeling. Everything was so messy and confusing, I just wanted to keep it to myself for a while longer.

You're keeping it to yourself because you haven't decided what you're going to do, and that would hurt your baby sister.

"So Else and Aunt Daisy are having a dinner tonight, just the family. You'll be there, right?" Jazzy said and sipped her coffee.

"Absolutely. I have a few things I need to do today, but I'll meet you there later. Can I borrow your car?" I said as nerves filled me.

"Or course. Anything I can help you with?"

My nerves shot higher. "No, not this time. Thanks, though."

* * *

"Do you have any white snakeroot?" I asked Wills, who was working at her store, The Cauldron, today, and pressed a kiss to Violet's peachy-colored hair. She was strapped to her mother's front, fast asleep. Hemy poked his head out of my bag, saw that Vi was asleep, and, disappointed, disappeared again.

Wills chuckled and broke off a piece of bread from her sandwich sitting on the counter. "We're all out, and our next delivery's not for a couple weeks. The council are being hard-asses on certain ingredients, and snakeroot's on the restricted list." She rested her hip on the counter. "What are you using it for?" She held the bread, and Hemy's nose appeared, twitching; then he took it and vanished again. "Something important? Anything to do with your bargain?"

I shook my head. "I have a job," I said, lying through my teeth. "An old soul, like really old. I'm thinking I'll need a little more juice to make contact."

"I hope…" Her green eyes held mine. "I hope you haven't given up, Zin, because we haven't. Jazzy hasn't stopped trying to find a way to free you from Death—none of us have."

Guilt filled me. I should have told my sister this morning what was going on, but I didn't know how. Everything was so complicated. "I appreciate it, I do, but whatever happens, I'll be okay," I said and gripped the edge of the counter when another wave of guilt washed through me.

She nodded, not looking convinced. "As for the snakeroot, I know of a place that has a steady supply, but it's in the demon part of town. Yeah, they mostly follow the rules there—Rune runs a pretty tight ship—but still, going alone, no matter who you are or how capable you are, wouldn't be a good idea," she said, changing the subject back. She knew when not to push, and I loved that about her.

"Cool, where do I need to go?"

"There's a store—Malicious Brew . Give me a few hours, and then War can take Vi, and I'll come with."

If I hung out with Willow all day, there would eventually be questions, questions I wasn't ready to answer, that I didn't know how to answer. "Thanks, Wills, but I told my clients I'd get back to them this morning. I'll call Relic to keep me company."

My cousin looked disappointed, which just made me feel even more guilty. "I'll see you tonight, though? At your mom's for dinner."

"I guess I can let you off the hook this time then, but I want some one-on-one hang time and soon, okay?" she said, studying me way too closely. Out of all my cousins, Wills and I were the most alike, in appearance and personality, and she always seemed to know when I was hiding something.

"Absolutely."

I texted Relic as I headed out and asked if he could meet me. Relic being Relic, he immediately agreed. Traffic was heavy, and by the time I could park and let him know where I was, he was already close.

I found him a street over, standing by his bike, tall, in worn jeans and his leather vest, tapping away at his phone. The hound grinned when he saw me. "Just couldn't stay away from me?"

Hemlock poked his head out of my bag to see where we were and who we were with, and Relic gave his head a scratch. I snorted. "You wish."

"You have no idea. But since sex is off the cards, I'm happy to display my superior fighting abilities and protect a damsel in distress."

"I'm not a damsel."

He planted one of his massive hands on top of my head and mussed my hair. "Whatever you say, princess."

"You've been going to Willow's movie nights, huh?"

He chuckled, low and rough. "Of course, can't you see how evolved I've become? My emotional education is coming along nicely. I'm almost like a real boy. "

"Jesus."

He winked. "So what are we doing here?"

This street was kind of a no-man's-land. Humans avoided it because, even though they didn't know demons existed, their flight instincts kept them away; they sensed there were predators nearby and avoided this part of the city all on their own, but as soon as we rounded the corner, we were in demon central. These demons could pass as human, though—that was one of the main prerequisites to live here. You also needed to know how to follow rules and not hurt humans. The forest-dwelling demons had none of those things. "I need some ingredients for a job I'm doing today."

The demons looked our way as we passed, but as soon as they saw Relic, they averted their eyes. Demons were naturally afraid of hellhounds. Lucifer used them to control the demons in Hell, and the fear was built into their DNA.

"Yeah? You found that job quick," he said, his gaze sliding to me. "Must be some kind of a record."

He knew I was up to something, or he at least suspected it. That's what you get for hanging out with a hound. "My client made the booking before I went to Limbo," I said, adding another lie to the list that day.

"Right," he said, making it obvious he didn't believe a word.

"Just up here," I said, relieved when I saw a sign with Malicious Brew scrawled on it swinging above the door.

I pushed open the door and walked in. I'd never smelled anything like it—not bad, just… busy. So many scents of herbs, plants, elixirs that I wasn't used to.

Relic looked around, tilted back his head, and sniffed the air. "This shit is burning my fucking nostrils." He scowled. "I don't like this, Zinny. It's too much. I can't smell anything else. No nose, no idea what the fuck's coming…"

The beads hanging in front of a door at the back of the room made a musical sound as they were drawn back, and a small female walked out. The demon was short and curvy and had bloodred hair that hung down her back in waves. Her face was humanoid and utterly stunning. She had a slightly upturned nose and full pink lips. She took several steps out, then slammed on the brakes, her unusual peridot eyes widening when she saw Relic. Her gaze sliced to the patch on his leather vest and the Devil Dogs MC emblem.

"I didn't do anything," she said. "Whatever they told you, I'm innocent." She lifted her hands and backed up a step like she was going to bolt. "I didn't do anything. Don't take me back… please… don't…"

"Not here to take you back to Hell, demon," Relic said. "So slow your roll and take a fucking breath."

She blinked up at him several times. "You're not?"

"Nope."

"He's just keeping me company," I said quickly because she still looked ready to turn and run. "I'm here for a couple of ingredients, that's all."

She kind of slumped in relief, then scowled. "What the fuck is wrong with you, witch? You brought a freaking hellhound into my shop? I almost pissed myself." She turned her scowl on Relic. "And you should know better." She shook her head. "Hounds, man. Meatheads, the lot of you."

Relic's head jerked back. "What did you call me, demon?"

"You heard me." She straightened her spine. "Lucifer didn't send you for me. You can't do shit, so save the intimidation bullshit for the next demon you drag back to Hell."

"Well, this has gotten off to a great start," I said as Relic strode past me and up to the little female.

She tried to step back, but he grabbed her arm and held her still while she squirmed to get away. He dipped lower, sniffing her head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, mutt?" she yelled, and I saw she had fangs, short but sharp. "Let me the hell go."

"You're not just demon."

Her fight stopped instantly, and she blinked up at him. "How do you know that?"

"I can smell it." He smirked down at her. "Can't quite make out what else you are, but looking at you, I'd say a gremlin or maybe a troll."

She shrieked and slammed her knee up, aiming for Relic's nuts but only managing to get him midthigh. She was far too short to reach, but I doubted many beings could reach a hound's nuts that way, honestly. I respected her for trying, though. He deserved it.

"Okay, back up," I said to Relic.

He ignored me, wholly focused on the little demon in his grip.

"Meathead," she muttered again and started tapping her fingers against the side of her thigh, one after the other, over and over again.

"You couldn't handle my meathead, gremlin," he said and flashed her his fangs.

Okay, we were straying into some other weird freaking territory here that I did not want to be a part of. "So do you have any white snakeroot?" I asked.

"You do realize that gremlins don't actually exist? They're a myth." She pressed her hand to his chest and shoved, but he didn't move. "It's pretty cringe that you don't know that."

She shoved a second time, and again, Relic didn't budge; he did release her this time, though. He tilted his head to the side. "You have a very smart mouth for someone so small and annoying."

"And you have a giant head and ridiculous… muscles." She flushed. "You look like a deformed Sasquatch."

"Now I'm embarrassed for you, Gremmy, if we're talking about things that don't exist."

"Don't call me Gremmy," she gritted out, her fingers tapping against her thigh again.

"But it suits you"—Relic flashed her that thousand-watt grin—"Gremmy."

He was enjoying himself.

She crossed her arms tight over her chest. She was pissed, but I also saw the way she trembled. She was scared and doing her best to hide it. She was still a demon, and he was a huge hellhound invading her space. It was like a giant cat toying with an injured mouse. I wasn't sure Relic noticed.

"Leave," she said.

"I don't think so," he said back, definitely enjoying himself.

She looked down, her lids blinking rapidly, and then she sucked in a breath, teeth clenched, and looked back up. "I want you to leave, you giant pain in the ass. I want you to leave my shop now." Her voice was raised, pitched high. No, not scared—terrified. She was still desperately trying to be brave in the face of the huge male towering over her, and Relic missed it completely. Honestly, I was surprised.

"If I were in your ass, Gremmy, I promise it would only hurt for a minute, and then I'd make it feel real good."

She hissed.

"Okay," I said, stepping forward. "If you could just get the ingredients I need, we'll leave. Right, Relic?"

He winked down at her. "Sure."

She spun away, strode down one of the aisles crowded with ingredients, snatched something off the end, then stomped up to me and shoved it in my hands. "Now leave."

I slid my hand in my pocket for money. "I need to pay you."

"I don't care. Just leave."

I quickly pulled out some cash, more than what it was worth, but after what I'd just witnessed, she deserved a tip. I dropped the money on the counter, then grabbed Relic's arm and shoved him from the store.

He let me, but not without a little resistance.

The sound of the bolt being thrown behind us came as soon as we walked out. I spun around as the demon flipped the Open sign to Closed, then disappeared out of view, but not before I got a glimpse of exactly how rattled she looked.

"What the hell was that ?" I asked Relic when we started walking.

"What?" He was still grinning.

"You terrified that female, then sexually harassed her," I said, because looking at him right now, the hound was clueless.

He stopped in his tracks. "No, I didn't… That's not what happened."

"I've never heard you speak to a female that way." Hounds were protective of females, worshipped them in a lot of ways—they did not harass or scare them.

Relic frowned down at me, glanced back at the shop, then back at me. "No… she wasn't afraid. She was—"

"She was shaking. You're a hellhound, and she's a demon. She was trying to hide it, but she was terrified. I thought she was actually going to cry for a moment." I wasn't trying to make him feel like shit, but he needed to be aware of what just happened back there.

"Cry?" he said, his voice so rough, it lifted goose bumps all over me. "No…" He looked back at the shop again. "No," he repeated.

"Yes."

"Fuck." He started back toward the shop, and I grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't make females cry. I don't scare them, and I don't… sexually harass them." He actually looked nauseous.

"Going back there now will only make it worse. She wants you gone, and you need to respect that."

He stopped, looking confused and shaken. "Fuck," he said again and let me tug him back the way we were going.

He didn't say much after that, and he was distracted when he gave me a hug before he left for his shift at the Hell Fire, the hellhounds' bar. I watched him leave and then headed for home and our cemetery.

It was early afternoon by the time I got there. Sometimes I found it easier to call on spirits at our cemetery. It was a place of great power, and without any real information to go on, I needed all the help I could get.

The cemetery was quiet when I arrived, no Aunt Daisy or Arthur here today, thankfully. Daisy was probably in the kitchen getting ready for tonight. She went all out when she had us all under one roof. Closing the wide iron gates behind me, I ran my fingers over headstones, saying their names as I walked by, telling my loved ones, my ancestors, how much I missed and loved them, finally stopping beside my grandmother's grave.

"Hey, Gran," I said and sat on the ground. Daisy and Art had planted chamomile all over the grounds. It had spread everywhere, which was what they'd wanted. When Art cut the grass now, it smelled amazing.

"I need your help to find some people," I whispered as I slipped my bag over my head and set it beside me. Hemy scurried out and trotted to the herb garden to nibble on the basil. "I know you're resting, and I hate to disturb you, but I'm not sure I can do this alone. You see, Gran, I need to make a decision, one that should be simple, but now… now it's not." Death said he loved me, and I wasn't sure what I felt, but I felt… something. Something unexplainable. It was wide and deep and so incredibly strong, but also it felt… distant. I didn't understand it, and I needed to understand it.

Opening my bag, I pulled out the thimble, the book, and the small pot of dried paint I'd taken from my bedroom back in Limbo and placed them in front of me. I'd never met any of these females, besides Aster. I didn't know their names. I didn't know anything about them. All I had that told me anything of who they were, were my visions and these items. Worn and well-used items they'd taken the time to bring with them when they'd made their own journey to Limbo, however that came about. Items that had been left behind, survived when they hadn't.

Females Death had cared for, possibly loved.

And as much as I didn't want to consider it, there was this unsettling feeling inside me. Death was prone to bouts of rage and jealousy, of unreasonable and controlling behavior. The cloak was darkness, and sometimes, it pulled him into the shadows.

He said if I left him, he'd let the cloak take him, that he'd let the shadows and the darkness take hold. Death had remained covered, preferring the shadows, when I first went to Limbo, and I'd believed him capable of anything. I didn't know how easy it was for him to slip back into that place, but if he had when he was with his consorts, if he'd let his anger take hold, perhaps he'd done something, something terrible, when he was lost to the shadows. Something that had pushed them to do what they had, to hurt themselves.

Even thinking it made me feel sick with guilt, but I had to be sure.

Taking a tiny piece of snakeroot from my bag, I placed it in a small square of soft leather. Then I added one verbena leaf, three drops of agarwood oil, and two of juniper oil and placed it on the ground. Then I took a ball of string from my bag and cut a length off. Making a slice in my palm, I let my blood pool, then smeared it on the string before gathering up the leather square into a small pouch and tying it closed with the blood-soaked string.

Rubbing the pouch between my hands, I mixed everything together, warming it until its fragrance reached me and the oil soaked the leather through. I swiped the oily pouch over the items I'd taken from my room in Limbo, and then I squeezed my sliced palm and dripped some blood on Gran's grave as an offering before dropping more blood in a circle around everything.

Slipping off my shoes, I pressed my feet into the soft chamomile lawn that had grown over Gran's grave, digging my toes in, pulling power straight from the source. I let the magic that still flowed through Gran's bones reach out to me and latched on to it.

I gasped as it filled me, twisting around my own magic and lifting it higher and higher. Closing my eyes, I let the spell wrap around me, let the words come, let them form and build to call on Death's consorts, to ask them to show me the way, until they finally spilled from my lips. "Thank you, Mother, for the gifts you have given me, for the love you have bestowed upon me. I call on you, my sisters, sisters who came before, who loved and laughed and hoped for a life of peace and warmth, my sisters who were taken too soon. I call on you to come forward, to show me who you were and how you were taken. I ask for your help, dear sisters, to guide me, to lead me to the right path." I squeezed my hand tighter, and warm blood trickled over my hand and into the small circle. "Show me, sisters."

The world spun around me—but there were no souls to be found, only a suffocating darkness, a void, and it was cold and incredibly lonely.

Tears slid down my face. I felt so much, so much pain and fear as if it were my own.

A sob burst from me as I searched, but they weren't there. It was as if they were nothing.

As if they had ceased to exist.