“Salt?” Tatiana asks Patrick, who’s been carrying the bag. He holds it up and John starts the convoy across the remainder of the deserted quad until we reach the crossroad.
“Everyone in a circle,” my sister instructs.
The wolves take formation surrounding us as Tatiana sprinkles the salt around her, forming a barrier, then she tilts her head to the sky to begin her chant.
“Hear these words, I summon thee.
With everything in me, I trap thee.
I pay the price requested, I summon thee.”
On the last verse she moves her hand in a circular motion in front of her, her voice raising an octave.
“From the depths of hell, I summon thee.”
Now complete, she opens her eyes and looks to those looking at her. The wolves are quiet in anticipation, knowing this part of the journey is out of their control. Just like earlier, but without vampire influence, the gentle breeze becomes a gust and we each shield our eyes until he appears.
Within seconds, he is before us.
Standing in the middle of the circle, in all his powerful glory, is the demon himself. He is dressed similarly to that of the Angel of Death, but he carries an air of disturbing sophistication with him. His eyes flash a fiery red before returning to their normal color. They flick with keen interest between me and Tatiana and back to me again. He smiles, and it’s the type of smile that promises all the things you never wish for. I shiver, and he delights in my discomfort.
Satisfied, he turns back to the bearer of the spell. “Why do you summon me, witch?” The deep authority with which he speaks makes us all uneasy. His eyes flick to the salt barrier on the ground she created, his lips twitching in amusement. “Salt? Are you frightened of me, witch? Are you worried about what I could do to you in front of all of them?” He casts a glance at the circle of wolves. John’s jaw twitches at the threat, but he remains stoic in the face of the demon.
“We need help,” Tatiana steers the conversation to the path it should be on.
“And what would a good witch like yourself need from a demon like me?”
“I need information that only you and one other would know.”
“Well, doesn’t this sound intriguing? And what information would that be, little witch?” he questions, tilting his head to the side to assess her.
“A long time ago, you made a deal with the queen. I want you to tell me what that deal was.” Tatiana could woo even the most stoic of opponents. She’s always so strong and determined. I can see why John is so drawn to her.
The demon considers her words before once again glancing between us. “I think you already know that deal.” His voice takes on a low warning. “But I could always tell you more. For a price… of course.”
“And what of that price?”
This time when his eyes land on me, they remain. I swallow hard and he notices.
“I want you to do me a favor,” he states categorically, now completely ignoring my sister.
“I am the one making the deal,” Tatiana snaps, but his eyes don’t waver from mine.
“What do you want?” I square my shoulders and feign confidence I totally do not feel at this present time.
“There is someone your Angel of Death wishes to take. I, however, want him to stay alive a touch longer.”
“I have no power over the Angel of Death.”
“Oh, but you do.” He raises his brows knowingly. “You get your Angel of Death to keep my breather alive and you have your deal.”
“And then?”
“And then I will answer anything your heart desires.”
“It can’t happen that way,” Tatiana interjects. “We’re not coming back here again, it’s too risky.”
“You don’t have to come back. You can call on me, and I’ll be there.” He turns his attention back to me.
“Wings, what do you say?” Wings? Now he has taken to calling me Wings? His eyes are alight with humor, and I am at a loss for words. I look to Tatiana and she nods her head.
“I can’t guarantee that I will be able to summon the Angel of Death to pass on the message. He comes to me, not the other way around,” I say, stepping on the barrier.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking he isn’t always watching you.” His words are salacious, but I ignore his jibe. “Find him, Wings. And when you complete my request, summon me once more.” His fingers graze my cheek. They’re hot and burn at the touch. “Tick, tock, Wings.”
The demon winks before he vanishes as quickly as he came. The overwhelming smell of sulfur lingers in his wake. Surrounding us, the wolves’ chests are heaving, their desire to shift close to the breaking point. My own breathing is heavy and jagged as I absorb the request.