Chapter 30

The Shadow Master

My form is unstable as I claw my way through the blood of the gate. I got her through. That's what matters. If I make it, I make it. If I don't, at least I know she's safe. Shaw and Archie will look after her, and she will be away from Hel.

Her manacles broke shortly after I was forced from my human form and banished back here to hell. I watched her writhe in the blood and pull against that collar around her neck, and she laughed in victory when it finally snapped.

The coward in me hid. The souls I claimed are gone, and I'm in a weakened state without them. They give me power and fuel my magic. Without them, I'm just a swarm of malice and death.

But I'm changed. I feel it. I'm not consumed with the hatred and violence I was when I was last in this place. My thoughts are coherent. And all I can think about is my girl. That thought pushes me through the blood. It gives me a singular purpose. It used to be death. Now, it is her.

And she's all I need to break through the gate and explode into the human realm.

I'm not strong enough to hold my form yet, so I find the body of a dead unseelie and take it for my own. The possession won't hold for long. It never did, but I only need to make sure she is okay, and then I will return to what I was. If I must, I will return to hell.

This body takes in a breath and sits bolt upright. Its throat was slit, and it's only been dead a few minutes. Good. Fresh is best.

The creature was a dark fae, and its wings are still good. I stretch them out and take flight.

Below, the valley is in chaos. A battle rages between unseelie and witch. Not only witches but humans and creatures, too.

Ahead is the great gate. It's still active, and on the floor in front of it is my girl, who is slowly getting to her feet.

I land beside her and take her arm, easing her up. My body is covered in silver scales, and my hands are three-fingered claws.

When I try to speak, a guttural clicking comes out, so I can't declare myself.

Shit. I hope she doesn't try to kill me… again.

I watch the gate with bated breath. Watch for Hel. For her great hand to reach through. For the countless souls of the witches beyond to seep out.

Poppet Doll reaches up. Her hand settles on my cheek as I look down at her.

She blinks up at me through her lashes and smiles.

My heart hammers as I look at that smile. She knows it's me. Even in this hideous form, she recognises my soul.

‘Shadow Master,' she says softly. ‘There you are.'

Her voice. Her face.

But not her.

Instinct takes over, and I toss her away from me before staggering back. Repulsion and fear take hold, and when Archie appears to run to her, I grab the back of his neck and yank him away.

I don't dare blink. I couldn't look away if you threatened me with death.

‘Get the fuck off me, fucking filthy…' His eyes squint as he looks into my eyes. ‘Dorian?' he asks, his head tilting to the side. ‘Is that you?' He breaks into a huge smile when I nod.

But the relief is short-lived when the sound of her laughing cuts through the air. He takes a step towards her.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?!' Archie snaps, grabbing at my wrist in an effort to break free. ‘Pix is hurt!'

But she's not. She's slowly getting to her feet, her bones clicking and grinding as they fix. I hear her skin stitching back together as she rolls her neck. Her fingers flex.

Archie sniffs, catching the change in her scent. Now, he steps back, placing himself at my side.

We watch as she looks up, taking in deep breath after deep breath. Her arms lie by her side, and her blood-drenched hair falls down her back as she lets out a long and relieved sigh, followed by a soft giggle. She tilts her head to the side, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a cruel smile as she looks at the two of us.

‘That's not Pix,' Archie says quietly.

I tighten my hold on his neck and take him with me as I step back.

No sudden movements. Don't look away. Don't fucking blink.

Down in the valley, the battle rages on. Unseelie. Human. Witch. The stench of death seeps into the air, overpowering my senses.

Shaw and Sathick are going at each other like possessed beasts.

But I still keep my eyes on the form of my poppet doll.

But she is not my poppet doll anymore.

Neve steps out and falls to her knees with her arms wide.

‘My goddess. My most glorious. It is I who have freed you from your bonds. I who have set you free from your realm. Just as I promised I would all those years ago.' Her head is low, and her knees are in the snow and blood. I have never seen Neve kneel. Not even when Shaw was torturing her did she give in and fall to her knees. The blood queen. The most powerful. Most evil. ‘I have freed you as I promised.'

Ashe walks slowly towards her, stopping to rest her hand on her head.

‘Now,' Neve says, her head still low. ‘You must do as you promised me.' Ashe rests her finger under Neve's chin and lifts. They look at one another. ‘Return my sisters,' Neve says pleadingly, a weakness and desperation in her words. ‘My Goddess. Return your coven to its former glory. Let us be your army. Your wrath. Return what they took and make them pay for slaughtering your faithful followers.'

My hammering heart settles in my throat. Hel returning is enough of a colossal fucking nightmare. Her possessing my girl is even worse. But returning the blood coven, too?

But Hel laughs and shakes her head, making Neve's face fall.

‘Why would I return those who imprisoned me?' Ashe replies. It sounds like her. Her voice. Her tone. But it's not. ‘Why would I ever share my magic with vermin who trapped me in hell and stole my connection to death and blood for themselves? It took me years to slaughter enough of you to create this beautiful arch of blood witch bones. To collect enough of the blood of your victims to give me back the strength I needed to break my chains. To give myself a form. My Shadow Master did exactly as I wanted and saw to your slaughter. With some help, of course.' She looks at Archie. ‘Little wolf with such a big bite. I can understand why that sweet smile of yours so enthralled Sinthia.'

Archie outwardly shudders as she addresses him directly. Hel looks back at Neve.

‘Speaking to you through my grimoire was easy enough. You, mortals, were always so desperate for power and willing to sell your soul for the slightest piece. Just as those mortals were when they betrayed me, stole my grimoire, and locked me up. So I thank you, blood queen, for allowing Athir to plant his seed inside you. I thank you for killing your child. I thank you for slaughtering your kind. And I thank you for killing Athir. Now, I am free. You have served your purpose. Be happy.' She runs her hands up Ashe's body. I hate that she touches her like that. How she feels her curves and breasts. ‘This vessel is strong.' She looks at her hand, and blood swirls between her fingers as if dancing. She laughs deeply as all the blood around us starts to rise. Droplets swarm over the battlefield and form the shape of arrowheads. Then they glisten like glass. ‘Very strong indeed.'

She twitches her fingers, and all around us are screams of pain. Below, every human falls, leaving behind only witch, creature, and unseelie still alive.

‘You swore you would return my sisters!' Neve screams once more. ‘You will do as you promised and return my coven! Do not dare think I am to betrayed. You are free because I made it so.'

Neve reaches out her hand, ready to use her blood magic.

Nothing happens.

She tries again.

Nothing.

Hel's smile turns cruel and I guide Archie even further back as she faces Neve.

‘Your magic only came to you when I was bound and trapped. You can not drain me anymore, witch. So your magic is no more.'

‘You… you took my magic?'

‘And I keep your sisters' souls, too. I make them suffer beyond all others. Would you like to hear them?'

She opens her mouth wide, her jaw clicking as it dislocates. Her cheeks stretch, and her mouth becomes a gaping hole. From within it comes the most harrowing screams imaginable. Screams of despair and complete agony.

The screams of Dhalia and Sinthia.

The sound has the hairs on my neck standing on end.

Neve loses it entirely, hearing her beloved sisters suffering so. She goes to attack. But Hel grips her with her blood magic and forces her to her knees.

‘It was a woman like you who lured me into my prison. A pretty little thing with endless eyes and a smile I coveted. She was weak. A human. Exiled and alone. I took her in and taught her much. I even shared my grimoire with her. I even shared my bed. But she was no mere mortal. She was a war queen. Her people travelled the world and destroyed and claimed and raided and burnt all who stood in their way.' She lets out a longing sigh. ‘She was a woman to worship. And I did. She loved death almost as much as I. But I had magic. And she wanted it for her own. She stole my grimoire, and it took all her people to harness its power. To shackle me. It was my only mistake. To fall in love with a heartless woman. With your ancestor. You are the daughter's daughter a hundred times over of the woman who became the very first blood witch. Her blood runs through your veins. It runs through me now, too. I have her soul. It's kept safe with all the other little witches who dared take my power from me.'

Neve starts to burn from within as Hel boils her blood. As Neve screams, Hel gently takes the crown of bones from her head and places it upon herself.

Neve goes flying backwards, slamming into the frozen ground.

The crown of bones grows and seeps blood into her hair. Dark power emanates from her. It thrums.

But she sighs in bliss before settling her gaze on me.

‘My Shadow Master,' she breathes happily. Even though I am in this form, she sees me. She always could. ‘Oh. How I have missed you. You are different. Not your former, glorious self.' She steps forward, and I guide Archie behind me. He is nothing to her. Ending him would be as easy as swatting a fly. ‘Your current form is unpleasing. And you are so small without all those souls you once carried. So weak. So…' She smells the air between us, and her expression turns sour. ‘In love. How disgusting.'

She knows I left her rule under the pretence of a lie. She knows I have done nothing to free her. To help her.

I never planned to, and I never will.

I would kill her if I could. But she's inside my girl. And I may be strong. I may be cold and unfeeling. But for her, I am weak and warm.

I couldn't hurt my poppet doll. So, all that remains is getting Hel out of her. I don't know how they got Athir out. I died before they managed it. But whatever they did, they can do it again.

‘You disobeyed me, Shadow Master. And you must pay. You will kill your friends first and claim their souls. Then you and I will sweep land to land and fatten you up until you are mad with rage and death. Just how I like you.'

She doesn't see that below, Shaw has abandoned Sathick and turned his attention to us instead. He firms his grip on his sword and heads our way.

He runs swiftly. Silently, he leaps, ready to grab her.

But Hel reaches out her hand, and a tendril of deep red wraps around his waist, holding him in mid-air. Slowly, she turns.

‘You think I am so foolish that the spawn of a sleep demon could ever sneak up on me?' she laughs. Her hand twists, and so does the magic holding him.

Even as his bones twist and crunch, he laughs.

‘No. But I wasn't the one planning on sneaking up on you.'

I leapt as soon as her back was turned and encased her in my shadow form, stifling and suffocating her. She drops Shaw as she struggles beneath me. I may not have the souls of the dead to fuel me. But I'm strong enough to hold her for a moment.

‘What the fuck do we do?' Archie bellows above the noise and chaos of my swirling form. ‘How do we kill a goddess?'

‘Get out of her, Hel!' Shaw commands.

She just laughs and looks.

‘I am made from pain, blood and death, you fool.'

She throws up her arms with a shout, and the force throws us all back. I reclaim my dark fae vessel and roll several meters in the dirt before returning to my feet. I stand with Archie and Shaw flanking me. Hel faces us, rolling her shoulders and laughing.

‘What do you think you are going to do to me, Shadow Master? I made you!' she chuckles. ‘And none of you will hurt this body. Not when you stink of love as you do.' She sneers at me, utterly disgusted. ‘And this one wreaks of it, too,' she gestures to herself. ‘A filthy and weak condition. You will not defeat me because you are too weak.'

Another blast of her power sends us all backwards and spiralling through the air. I hit the dirt and skid. We all do, stopping far from her. I see Cole running away from it all, looking back over his shoulder as he whimpers in terror.

Coward.

We're all back on our feet and facing her.

But she turns her back on us and raises her hand to the mirror of blood and bones.

‘Come. Come forth and spread your lust for pain and blood.'

The gate erupts, pouring blood into the valley like a damn has just burst. It crashes down in an endless stream, swallowing up the witches and creatures below.

The sea of blood in her realm pours into this world. Everything it touches dies. The trees. The living. Even the ground rots.

The witches and unseelie caught in its flow thrash and scream in its tide. Then, they silence and groan.

They look up at her, devoted and obedient messengers of death, just like the souls of the blood witches that swam in it before.

Hel walks towards it, her hand still outstretched and laughing wildly.

‘I will cover this world in blood. I will drown the good and the true. I will rule!' She laughs hard. ‘Every human. Every witch. You will become mine. Mine to command. Mine to rule. Mine to devour! I will free the fire lord and water mistress, and we shall remind this world of who it truly belongs to. The time of titans and gods will return, and the time of mortals is at a brutal end. All will bleed. All will serve.'

Hel turns to face us all once more.

‘Kneel,' she says. ‘Swear you allegiance. Vow your undying love to your goddess. And I will let you live.'

Behind her, that blood spreads.

And I know it will spread on forever, just as she will. As she travels the lands, all will fall.

Shaw steps forward, his eyes on her. I hear his heart. It's painfully calm.

How? How can it be so fucking calm?

She turns to see him walking towards her.

And the bastard falls to one knee and bows his head.

She smiles victoriously.

‘You bow to me. Good. As you should.'

‘I bow to her,' he says. ‘To her and her alone. To Ashe Nectan. To my Pixie. And never to you.' He lifts his head. ‘You hear me?'

‘I hear you,' she snarls in reply. ‘I-'

‘I was not speaking to you. I'm speaking to her. To Ashe. And you know better than to ignore us, Pixie! Or have you learnt nothing from your time with us? Now you listen to me, and you fight this fucking blood whore with everything you have!'

He looks at her. But nothing happens.

Archie and I stand at his side.

We do it all at once, like an unspoken understanding ripples through us, telling us what to do.

We tap into our claiming marks. They still scar her skin, so I know we're still connected.

We order her back. We order her to reclaim control of her body.

Hel flinches as we try to take control. But she's strong and keeps her grip.

‘A good try. But unexceptional. As expected. I should kill you. But I think making you like the rest of them…' She nods to the writhing army she has stolen in the blood below. ‘I think that will be more satisfying to watch.'

The ground shakes around us. It trembles and groans.

Hel looks down and all around as the earth splinters and cracks. The scent of earth magic fills the air before the walls of the valley explode into a thousand endless pieces. An avalanche of dirt rains down on the valley of blood, swallowing it whole in a turbulent and cataclysmic rush. It buries it. All of it. The blood. The lost witches and unseelie taken by Hel. It's entombed.

We all look to see her outstretched hand. And we all know the magic came from her.

‘What…' Hel hisses, staring at her arms. ‘Earth magic?' She looks around, seeking out the threat. ‘Athir is dead. I killed him. There is no more earth magic.'

Shaw smiles. Then he outright laughs. ‘I would know that magic anywhere. You forget, blood bitch. That girl you are possessing is Athir's daughter. His blood. His magic. His crown. It runs through her veins. And what happens when a king dies? The crown goes to the eldest child.' Shaw nods at her. ‘You are not possessing a witch. You are possessing a goddess. And even more than that, you're possessing Ashe Nectan. And she never backs away from a fight.' His focus narrows. ‘Do you, Pixie?'

Hel throws her head back and screams as red mist is forced from her body. It's a scream of power and pain. Of sheer force and agony. We have to step back and throw our arms up to protect ourselves. The force of it burns our skin.

When she finally stops screaming, she lowers her arms and looks at us.

Tears stream down her face as she pants and sobs.

‘Kill me,' she pleads. ‘I beg you.'