Witch magic.
Those were the words Lucifer spoke.
Hope fills me anew.
Perhaps Ágota saw this as one of my possible fates and has set in motion the spells that will free me. She may be lost to me, but her magic appears to live on. Perhaps I will be free again!
“Now that you are awake,” Lucifer whispers in my ear “we should talk.”
Chapter 19
Gritting my teeth against the pain ripping through my torso, I ball my hands into tight fists. I am so weakened by the loss of blood, my vampire sight cannot pierce the gloom. Since the torches are extinguished, there is absolute darkness.
Lucifer leans closer to me, his sulfurous breath hot on my cheek. “Come now, Erzsébet. Do not keep secrets from me. I am, after all, your only hope of salvation.”
I have no patience to deal with the monster who murdered my mother. I place my hand on his face and thrust him away. “Leave me!”
Raucous laughter reverberates through the small mausoleum. The devil is not so easily dissuaded, as I well know, and I sense him stalking about the bier. I ignore his presence, focusing instead on my latest vision. It lingers in my mind’s eye full of hidden importance. I had long forgotten the stone imbued with Witch World magic that my sister had hidden from the coven and that she’d vowed to use it to my benefit. Lost to the mists of time, I wonder what significance that memory holds and if the relic still exists.
Lucifer’s too-warm hands settle against the sides of my face, his fingers curving along my cheeks. His eyes burn like pale blue fires through the dark as he peers at me. “Speak to me, fairest Erzsébet. Tell me your secrets.” Though his voice is gentle, a threat dwells in the deeper tones.
“Leave me to my torments and be gone. I have nothing to say to you, devil.”
I am tired, emotionally spent, and do not wish to parry with his duplicitous tongue. I wish to be alone in my misery. My remembrances of a time long past are a heavy burden on my dark soul. Much has been forgotten over my supernaturally extended lifetime. I long for the spell to return so I can once more see beloved faces and unlock the mysteries of my past.
The devil’s fingertips burn against my flesh and his eyes grow brighter in the absolute darkness. “But we must talk. What was that delicious witch magic I tasted earlier?”
“I do not know of which you speak.”
“Where did your spirit abscond to? Your body was but an empty shell awaiting its return.”
“I was asleep, you fool!”
Lucifer’s arrogance knows no limits if he truly believes I will be drawn in by his machinations. Though he can be a charming and devious fellow, he cannot undo the truth that he murdered my mother and played a significant role in Ágota’s fate.
“You were not asleep. Do not lie to me, Erzsébet. A spark of witch magic absconded with you and I will know who cast that spell. I have not felt such power since before your sister—”
“Do not speak of Ágota!” I attempt to wrench my head from his grip, but his hands are as rigid and unyielding as stone.
His fingers dig into my cheeks and he hisses, “We. Must. Talk.”
I scrabble at his hands, kick my feet, and thrash about, worsening my impalement wound. “I refuse. We are not friends. We are enemies. I shall never submit to your desires!”
The darkness of the mausoleum becomes absolute as his eyes vanish from my line of sight and he releases his hold on me. The raw fury of his anger fills the mausoleum with an eerie reddish hue as I tense in preparation for whatever horrors he will unleash on me.
I let out a startled cry when a hole opens beneath me. My body slips off the iron stake with a revolting suckling noise as I fall, my fingers scrabbling at the granite of the bier desperate to find purchase. The stone floor and the packed earth beneath it open to swallow me. I lash out at the dirt, stones, and roots around me, attempting to still my descent. My fingers wrap around a thick root stopping my plunge so I sway over a deep black pit. The only light comes from the red fires burning far below my dangling bare feet.
“I will not be fooled by your tricks, Lucifer!”
My voice echoes endlessly, which I am certain is yet another illusion. Yet, I cannot help but feel a twinge of fear. Do I truly know the full extent of Lucifer’s powers? Vlad, his most successful student of the dark arts, has great power. How many times has he moved my mausoleum to hide me from the eyes of the world? Could Lucifer use the same magical ability to transport objects over some distance to suspend me above the fires of hell?
The rough texture of the root digs into my palm when I tighten my grip. Every sensation resembles reality, yet I have experienced vivid illusions in the past. If I were to release my hold, would I fall into flame and be consumed or break the illusion completely?
“Tell me what you know, Erzsébet,” Lucifer hisses out of the darkness.
“And what do I receive in exchange?” I dig the tips of my nails into the stem and attempt to pull myself upward. I am weakened from not feeding in many nights and my endeavor is doomed. I swing in the humid blackness listening to the creak of the root.
“I will set you free.”