2. Ember

2

EMBER

I wanted the pain to stop. My entire body ached and burned. The sensation of a million electrified needles jabbing into my nerves and joints made me both swelter and shiver…convulse…in agony.

My pain tolerance had always been higher than most. My level four could be another person’s nine, so I normally considered the discomfort scale from one to ten at the doctor’s office useless.

Not this time. No, not now.

On a scale of one to ten, my discomfort was a thirty-plus.

I’d felt fine a minute ago. At least, I’d thought I did. Honestly, I couldn’t remember much after Mayhem put on the ridiculously expensive clothes and my credit card got rejected.

If you can’t pay, you have to stay.

How did I end up on the floor? Did George…?

And why did my nose feel like I’d inhaled a tablespoon of crushed red pepper?

I tried to blow a puff of air through my nostrils, but my body disobeyed the command from my foggy brain and did the opposite instead. I snorted. Then I coughed, wheezing in more and more pepper until my throat burned and my lungs expanded and contracted as if I were hyperventilating.

“Oh, thank the goddess.” That was Ash’s voice, but either my eyes wouldn’t open or I’d gone blind from the pain.

“Come on, Em,” she said in a motherly tone. “Breathe it all in.”

“Pain…” I rasped.

“I know it hurts, but you have to.” A sob choked off her last words. “Mayhem needs you.”

Mayhem…

I sucked in another breath. Razorblades sliced into my lungs. My heart did this weird thud…thud-thud-thud thing. Mayhem needed me. George… He’d trapped my demon with the ouroboros bracelet.

Nobody trapped my demon.

Another breath raked through my lungs, and I licked my chapped lips. Bits of skin clung to my tongue, making my stomach turn. A warm cloth pressed against my eyes, Ash’s gentle hand wiping away the crust holding them closed.

One opened halfway, the inner corner still matted with gunk. My vision swam. Miles held the cloth, not my sister. He swiped my right eye again, and it opened fully.

Light pierced my pupil like a white-hot needle, and I fought the urge to squeeze my lid shut and sleep. Mayhem needed me. I couldn’t let him down.

“Another breath, Em. You have to take it all.” Ash held a jar beneath my nose. What spicy potion had she mixed up to bring me into consciousness? Whatever it was, I hoped to never experience it again.

I might as well have sucked a ghost pepper through each nostril, and oh, man… Hot in was hot out. I was not looking forward to my first trip to the bathroom.

Miles wiped my left eye, and I pried it open.

“There she is.” He smiled, but he couldn’t mask the concern carving crevasses into his forehead.

I blinked the fogginess from my vision as Ash returned the jar to her bag. “Why does it feel like someone hit me with a Hummer, backed over me, and plowed into me again?”

Ash’s eyes glistened. “Because you almost died.”

“I can tell.” I tried to sit up, but my muscles screamed. The sigil on my arm felt raw…like someone had attempted to rip the magical ink from my skin. “Mayhem?”

Ash gestured with her head, and I followed her gaze to find my demon lying on the floor, unconscious. “What…?”

“He was almost sucked into the Underworld.” Shade rose to his feet, wincing and clutching his stomach. “We almost lost you both.”

“Is he okay?” I pushed to sitting, and the world turned on its side. My stomach lurched. My head pounded. My breakfast made a reappearance on the floor.

All I’d eaten was a protein bar, thankfully, but the bitter taste of stomach acid made me heave again.

“Here.” Ash handed me a bottle of water.

I swished and spit before taking three huge gulps. Big mistake. It felt like forcing avocado pits through a cocktail straw. “What happened? Why do I hurt so much?”

Ash wiped the corner of my mouth with a cloth. “George… His real name is Donal. He sucked out your life force and was trying to feed it to his father.”

“Huh?” My lids fluttered, my foggy brain unable to process her words. “His father?”

“Donal is a Formorian. A son of Balor.” Shade toed Mayhem with his boot, and my demon rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling with his slow, steady breaths.

He would be okay. That much I could comprehend, but my face must’ve been contorted in confusion because Ash patted my knee, her eyes holding so much sympathy, I nearly choked.

“The fae eradicated the species eons ago,” she said, “but somehow Donal escaped and brought Balor with him to our realm.”

I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning against the wall. “And he opened a store?” Sure, the fog in my brain was jumbling my thoughts, but I couldn’t have made sense of her words if I were operating at full capacity. “Why would he open a store?”

“Look. He’s been feeding off his customers.” She shook my shoulder, so I opened my eyes and followed her gesture to the adjacent wall. At least a dozen mummified bodies lined the space, their emaciated arms chained above their heads.

Holy Hecate. I wanted to feel bad for the people. I really did, but the pain in my muscles and the haze in my brain made it impossible to think about anything else.

Mayhem groaned and rolled to his side, facing us. His demon form, in all its glorious nakedness, didn’t stir a single hormone inside me. I didn’t even check out his junk.

His lids flew open, his eyes locking on me, his body moving half a second later.

“Ember!” He shot to his feet—erm, hooves—and clomped toward me before dropping to his knees and pulling me into his arms. “Thank Lucifer, you’re alive.”

My skin felt like road rash, his hands like sandpaper against it. “Ow.”

“What’s wrong?” He held my shoulders, pushing me back so he could look into my eyes. “What hurts?”

“Everything.” My laugh turned into a sob. Every-friggin-thing.

He snapped his head toward Ash. “Did you return all of her light?”

She took the empty jar from her bag and held it toward him. “All of it.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and his grip tightened on my arms.

“Ow,” I said again.

“I’m sorry.” He released me, letting me slump against the wall before turning to Ash. “That wasn’t all of it. Balor…”

“Crappity crap. You’re right.” Ash stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Donal had already given some of her life force to Balor when you vanquished him. Come on.” She grabbed my arm, attempting to haul me to my feet, but my legs were too weak to hold me.

Mayhem scooped me into a cradle carry, my skin, my muscles, my joints protesting as he rose to his hooves. I didn’t dare complain. If this Balor dude had a piece of me, I would wrench it from his clutches and rip his head from his body.

Just as soon as my own body recovered from whatever the hell happened to me.

We followed Ash into the back of the building where Chaos loomed over a rotted mass of something . He crossed his arms, keeping a wide stance, a look of disgust curling his lip. “Balor, you will return her life force.”

My gaze snapped to the mound of flesh, my brain finally processing the shape. Balor, King of the Formorians, lay partially formed on the floor. His skin held an ashy-green pallor, his face almost skeletal as he reached an arm toward me.

“Sssshe’s mine…” he hissed, and a tiny flame ignited on his fingertip.

Witch fire. My fire.

“Oh, hell no. That’s mine.” I wiggled in Mayhem’s arms, and he lowered my feet to the floor, keeping a firm grip on my shoulders so I didn’t topple over.

Balor inched toward me, his blob of a body moving like a slug. “Give it to me, and I’ll set you free.”

“I’m already free, you wannabe Jabba the Hutt.” If I had my sword—and if my legs would carry me—I’d lob off his head and make his species extinct for good. Sadly, in my current condition, I was about as useful as wet toilet paper. Single ply.

“Ash, I need an extraction spell.” I made a grabby motion toward her. No way in hell could I cast it alone.

“On it, but you’re not helping.” Before I could protest, she lit some herbs on fire and took Miles’s hand.

They recited the incantation together, and Balor’s semi-gelatinous form bubbled, his thin skin turning transparent as my energy fought his hold. He strained, his expression looking like he was both constipated and trying not to puke at the same time. I knew the feeling.

Well, not the constipation part. But if my stomach didn’t stop lurching every time I twitched, it—along with all my innards—might end up on the floor.

“Nooo… Make it stop,” Balor wailed.

Mayhem’s growl rumbled through my body, setting my nerves off on a tangent. “How did you escape Hell?”

“Donal did. Please stoooop.” My light, a shimmering gold, gathered beneath the surface of his skin.

“How long have you been in this realm?” Ash asked. “Answer us and we’ll make the pain stop.”

“Months. Months! Rifts in the veil. Donal is smart. Lots of heart.”

My stomach heaved. A drumline pounded out a sickening rhythm in my head while Balor’s agonizing wails jabbed daggers into my ears. Goosebumps pricked my skin, the fever making me shiver and sweat, and I leaned into Mayhem, willing myself to stay upright. “Let’s put him out of his misery.”

Ash and Miles recited the incantation two more times in succession. Balor’s mouth opened, his jaw unhinging like Imhotep from The Mummy , as my light poured from his throat. It shot toward me and blasted up my nostrils, burning like a mixture of Carolina Reaper and ghost pepper oils.

Damn, I was a spicy witch.

I heaved in three breaths, four, five, until the burning stopped and the drumline ceased their incessant song. My eyes and mouth watered, the cracks in my lips healing and plumping as my life force surged through my body. The strength returning to my muscles, I stepped out of Mayhem’s arms and leered at the heap of wasted flesh on the floor.

“There’s a reason your kind went extinct.” I reached back for my sword, but my hand met only air. “Please tell me someone brought my weapons inside.”

Ash shook her head. Balor wheezed, attempting to form words, but without my energy, he’d turned into a slimy blob of yuck…yuckier than he was before.

“His heart hasn’t fully formed.” Mayhem held up a taloned hand. “I tried to wrench it from his chest, but his entrails are gelatinous.”

“That’s fine. He has a head I can lob off.”

“Here.” Shade offered me a twelve-inch dagger. “It’s the sharpest one I’ve got.”

I accepted the blade, holding the leather-wrapped handle and testing its weight. “Nice.”

Our Jabba wannabe inched away like the slug he was, so I grabbed a handful of his sparse hair, angling his head up and exposing the rolls of his fatty neck.

My grip tightened on the handle, and I was about to jab the blade into his throat when a sense of peace washed over me. My brain had the audacity to search for a non-violent solution to allow Balor to remain in existence.

I narrowed my eyes, cutting my gaze toward my demon. “Mayhem!”

“Sorry.” He drew his shoulders upward and tilted his head down like a scolded puppy, which was kind of cute considering he stood there in all his princely demonic gloriousness.

His magic dissipated from my psyche, and I looked at Ash. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t vanquish this asshat right now, and does anyone want to help me?”

“Go for it,” she said. “He’s all yours.”

I jabbed the blade into his neck. The razor edges passed through his flesh as if he were made of margarine, severing his head with one clean stroke. My fingers still clutching Balor’s hair, I lifted my prize triumphantly.

“Mmm…” Mayhem’s growl sounded more like a purr. “You are a warrior goddess.”

Did I mention he was naked? My gaze locked on his massive package, which no longer hung freely in the breeze. His soldier stood at attention, and he licked his lips, his irises rippling like they did when he wanted to devour me.

“You might want to find some clothes.” I waved the dagger in the direction of his junk and dropped Balor’s head. It rolled, stopping face-up and blinking at me. “Holy shit. He’s not dead.”

“The only way to vanquish a Formorian is to destroy his heart.” Mayhem morphed into his human form, and his soldier finally stood at ease…ish. It was getting there, anyway. “And he has no heart to destroy.”

I forced my gaze to his eyes. “So, what then? Are we just going to leave him here, headless?”

“That would be cruel,” Miles said.

“And dangerous.” Ash set her satchel on the floor and examined the contents. “If humans come in and find him, he could still drain their energy. We can’t take that chance.”

“No, we can’t.” I spotted a shelf filled with packs of men’s undies, so I grabbed one and tossed it to Mayhem. “Put those on. It’s hard to focus with…all that.”

He chuckled and opened the pouch, pulling out a pair of dark gray boxer-briefs. With his package wrapped, I turned my attention to my sister.

“We need a spell to solidify his heart.” She lined up three herb bottles on the floor. “If we can force it to form, then we can destroy it.”

“We could do that.” I eyed the disgusting creature. “But why waste our vim?”

My palm tingled, a fireball igniting on my skin. I tipped my hand, dropping the flames onto Balor’s severed head. His hair lit up like a bonfire, and a gurgling sound emanated from his neck as his chest expanded and contracted.

“That hurts, doesn’t it?” I picked him up by the ear and dropped his head onto his body. “You picked on the wrong witch.”

I shot flames from both hands, setting his entire body ablaze. “You guys might want to step outside the room. It’s about to get hot in here.”

“It already is.” Shade squinted, lifting a hand to shield his face from the flames as he and Miles returned to the front of the store.

“I guess your way works.” Ash’s expression scrunched, and she placed the bottles in her bag before rising to her feet and adding to my flames. “Incinerate his entire body, and the molecules that would make up his heart burn too.”

“Exactly. How about a little hellfire, guys?” I shot another flame and watched the bastard burn.

His form began to melt in our witch flames, and when Mayhem and Chaos shot streams of hellfire into the fray, it crumbled. The fire raged, consuming every piece of the Formorian until nothing but a pile of opaque crystals remained.

“Good riddance.” I called my fire back and brushed my palms together as if I could dust off this entire ordeal.

“It needs to be hotter.” Mayhem grasped my elbow. “Until he turns to ash, he still exists on this plane.”

As if to prove his point, the crystals of Balor vibrated, bouncing off each other, sliding this way and that across the floor until several melded together. Another handful stuck into a clump, bubbling and making a sickening, goopy sound as they formed into a glassy eyeball. It rolled, squaring its gaze—if it could even see—on me.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I stomped the eye, squishing it beneath my boot heel.

“Again.” Mayhem shot a stream of white-hot hellfire at the remains.

“Ash!” Miles shouted from the next room. “Shade’s hemorrhaging. I need your help.”

“Gods, I miss Patrice. Can you…?” she asked.

“We’ve got this. Go.” I added my flames to Mayhem’s.

“Assist your witch,” Mayhem said to Chaos. “Ember and I will handle the beast. This is personal.”

“Damn right, it is.” I sent another wave of heat into the bonfire of Balor as they rushed out to save Shade.

My flames, bright orange with a base of blue, swirled and spun through Mayhem’s white ones. He cut his gaze to me, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin as he took a deep breath and added to the inferno.

His fire morphed from white to blue to indigo, the tips turning a vibrant purple as it flickered and consumed. The combination of colors shifted and blended, pirouetting and swaying together in a mesmerizing dance of magic.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The way our colors blend.” He slid an arm around my waist. “We are good together.”

“When we’re not trying to kill each other, yeah.”

He dropped his hand to his side, stepping away from me and focusing on the flames.

It took a minute. Okay, more like ten, but finally the crystals smoked, smoldered, and turned into ashes. I called back my flames and heaved a breath. That was enough physical exertion for one day. Whew.

“Are your boots fireproof?” he asked.

“Everything I wear is. Why?”

“Lift your foot.”

“Why?” I raised a knee, and he sighed.

“The other one.” He grabbed my pants at the ankle and raised the sole of my boot toward him. “Even this small amount of the Formorian’s eye on your shoe is enough for him to reform.” He lit the tip of his finger ablaze. “Unless you want to take him to New York?”

“Fire away.” If I ever saw one of these revolting creatures again, it would be way too soon.

With my boot cleansed in flames, I curled my lip at what was left of our captors and followed Mayhem to the front of the store. Shade lay on the floor, a washcloth over his eyes, his stomach exposed.

My heart sank. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine.” Ash swiped a magical salve across the stitches. “This will speed the healing, but you’ll have a massive scar.”

“That’s okay.” Shade pulled the cloth from his eyes. “Chicks dig scars.”

Miles shot his gaze to the floor before rising to his feet, and I had to wonder if Shade had any clue about his feelings for him. It wasn’t my place to ask, so I went shopping in what was left of the store.

Mayhem had torn through his new, ridiculously expensive clothes when he let his demon loose, so I grabbed him another pair of starched jeans and a black button-up. He dressed and put on his new boots while I grabbed myself a slinky little black number from the women’s section. Since I couldn’t take weapons into the auction house, I might as well dress the part of the trophy wife, right?

“We aren’t going to pay, and we don’t have to stay.” I gave the cash register the middle finger and turned toward the door. “Let’s roll.”

Chaos helped Miles support Shade, and we all finally left the building. Well, all of us except Mayhem. He stood in the doorway, his expression livid.

“Come on,” I said.

He held up his arm, showing me the ouroboros on his wrist. “I can’t.”

I sighed, my posture deflating. “Well, shit.”