Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

" I found it!" I shout, and the demon falls from where he was napping on top of my workbench. Lifting the book, I grin over at Phrixius. "This spell will counter the binding and free you."

"Good witch." He grins, and something bubbles up inside me at the praise.

I deflate, though, the more I read. "It's going to take a while. Some of these ingredients . . . I don't even know where you would get them anymore."

"A few days or weeks is nothing to a god," he says. He's been the perfect house guest, unlike the demon. Well, he is picky about his food, and he and the demon fight about what film they are watching while I work, but he hasn't smotten—smitten—smited me? I don't know. Regardless, he's not done it, and he's being surprisingly patient considering I basically kidnapped him.

"The sooner the better," my demon snaps. "This idiot wants to watch some weird shows."

"Because I do not want to watch porn all the time?" Phrixius retorts, and I sigh. They bicker like this all the time, and it's annoying.

"Enough, Perry and Demon," I warn. I don't know why, but I've taken to calling the god every name under the sun. He seems to find it amusing, and I admit it's funny watching his reaction to each one.

"I preferred Picasso," he says as I grin.

"Okay, I'll start on this spell now and collect the ingredients as we go. Some of it takes at least ten days to brew anyway." I clap my hands and get to work, but part of me is reluctant.

I might have even become accustomed to Phrixius being here. He's a god, not a pet, but he's fun to be around. He tells good stories, and he seems to fit. It's foolish, I know, so I shake off those feelings and warm the cauldron. I pinch some oak root into the base, adding moon juice and some of the herbs along with volcanic ash since they will take the longest to brew. I leave it there as I scan the list and groan.

"Demon." I smile sweetly.

"No." He points at me, no doubt reading my expression.

I pout. "I need a branch from the oldest tree in the world. It will take me forever to go get it."

"Oh, so now you want my help," he sneers.

"The quicker we make this, the quicker he's gone," I croon, and he waves.

"If you want my help, then you make a deal like everyone else."

"What do you want?" I sigh, knowing he won't give in. Demons are stubborn like that.

"A kiss." He jerks his chin up, grinning. "One kiss and I'll go and get your stupid branch."

I stare, grinding my jaw. It could be worse. We've never crossed that line, but something about it feels . . . inevitable. I need that branch. "Fine, no tongue," I reply.

"Oh, sweet witch, you'll beg for tongue." He waits, eyebrow arching. "Well?"

Muttering under my breath, I step over, grab his horns, and yank him down, covering his lips with mine. For a moment, he's unmoving, and I go to pull away when he groans, gripping my ass and hauling me closer, his lips moving against mine harshly.

He tries to pry mine open, and when I gasp for a breath, his tongue slips in, tangling with mine. He tastes of fire and sulphur as his warm hand slides up and across my shoulders. I shudder as he swallows my moan. When I realise I'm leaning into it, I rip away, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand and stepping backward.

The demon looks dazed, his chest heaving as he stares at me.

"Branch," I remind him, my voice hoarse.

"Branch," he repeats, staring at me, and then suddenly, he's gone—no cocky remarks or teasing.

I'm left with my mouth tasting like flames as desire licks at every inch of me.

That was foolish. I should know better than to make a deal with a demon.

Never again.

I'm busy working on the ingredients when something passes my barrier—something strong, otherworldly, and dark.

It has more power than I've ever tasted, and the feeling of the grave comes along with it.

"Well, isn't this homey?" a deep, evil-sounding voice remarks.

I spin, my eyes widening at the being casually leaning against the entrance to my home. My magic automatically reacts, flying towards him for invading my territory. It hits him, and he seems to absorb it, which is impossible. He's really tall, but there's something about the glowing man that gives me pause.

A voice tells me this one is very dangerous.

He seems to dismiss me with a look and glances at Phrixius, who's on his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides. "The others sent me. Shall I kill her and free you?"

My eyes swing between them as I conjure more magic to protect myself in case Phrixius turns on me with this guy—or god, as I'm starting to believe.

Judging by the skulls decorating his arms, I have a truly bad feeling I know which one.

The god of death .

"No!" Phrixius's sharp voice cuts through my panic as he jumps to his feet before hesitating. "I mean, no, I am fine."

I panic. Okay, I'm not proud of it, but the god of death is in my home, threatening to kill me. I pick up a ladle and throw it, and then a bowl.

"You have been kidnapped," he says calmly despite the things I'm tossing at him.

"I have not been kidnapped. Okay, I was, but it's fine. I have this under control," Phrixius protests way too calmly.

"I'm sure you do." The man grins, ducking as I fling a cauldron at his head. "But the other gods are worried."

"Lie to them. Tell them I am free and will return."

That gives me pause. Why would Phrixius want him to lie to the other gods? Does he not want this god to free him? Or is he just worried how he would do it? He's already admitted he has dominion over magical creatures, so maybe he's just doing his duty as a god.

I fling a knife, and he catches it midair with a growl that makes my soul wither and die. "Don't tempt me, witch. If one more item is tossed my way that could affect my ability to please my . . . Well, you will be in trouble. Understood?"

Okay, so throwing things is not working, but I understand what it's like to be surrounded by beings more powerful than I am, and I know the first rule is not to show fear, so I cross my arms as I meet his gaze defiantly. "You do not scare me."

"I should. I could kill you without even touching you." He says it casually, like one would voice a greeting. I have no doubt he could. I can feel his power.

"You will do no such thing!" Phrixius's booming yell makes me gape and turn to him to see him glaring at his fellow god.

He's angrier than I've ever seen him.

"You are doing this for her? A witch?" the god of death asks slowly, his brows furrowed in confusion. He's not the only one. Phrixius is protecting me from his own people. Why?

"I would not expect you to understand," he hisses at the other god, shooting me a worried look. "Now leave, serpent, I have this under control." I see the god flinch slightly at the name, but he stands taller.

"Fine." He shrugs. "You can deal with their wrath later. I do like to cause chaos, though, so I will lie for now. Don't get stupid, not over a pesky, little, mortal witch, and not even a very powerful one."

He disappears, and I feel my barriers reform. I slump back, my wide eyes going to Phrixius. "Was that?—"

"Mors, the god of death," Phrixius murmurs. "You're lucky to be alive."

"Why did you protect me from him?" I ask softly. "I trapped you. He could have helped, and yet you protected me. Why?"

He watches me carefully. "It is my job to protect those born with magic."

I nod. At least I have an answer. Turning away with a shaking hand, I freeze at his voice.

"And I want to protect you more than I have anyone else. I don't know why, but when he threatened to kill you, something within me snapped. I have never denied another god before. Read into that what you will."

My heart hammers at the confused confession.

That makes two of us who are confused.

I know one thing for sure, Phrixius doesn't belong here, and I could die if I'm not careful. You cannot keep a god at your side without facing the consequences. They are not made for this world.