Better, in the end, to not think of these things at all.
Now, being with Cyrus, helping to be the front for his aspirations to fight in the arena, to show he was more than just a freak – more time came to her. More than she knew how to deal with. Time that left her thinking of how to surprise her family and make sure they had a feast to remember. Time to consider Cyrus, to look at him and wonder about him as a person. To think of him as someone she might conceivably fall in love with if she were not careful.
He was making itveryhard to not fall for him to some degree.
Like that Saturday, when instead of driving her to some crusty old museum, he took her out of the city to a lake in the countryside, and all they did was walk around the lake and admire nature’s inexorable beauty. Or that Tuesday, when he’d just finished a fight that he’d won in resounding style, and he’d whisked her away afterward to a late-night movie. The movie was nothing particularly special, but sitting next to him as they ate popcorn, and their elbows or hands occasionally brushed each other – created a tension greater than the movie they watched.
She sincerely hoped her attraction to Cyrus wasn’t detected by Aleera or Imogen. Since she didn’t think Aleera would be too impressed with a human hankering after her brother, and Imogen seemed to be of a mind where all humans would be a hell of a lot safer if theydidn’tinteract with supernaturals.
She remembered the discussion with Imogen about it.
“Even though it’s unhealthy for them, humans are always drawn to the mysterious. To the idea of something unknowable, incomprehensible. Of magics that they cannot touch except in passing, of enchanted jewelry and curses attached to them. You humans make so many horror movies based on these curses, these magics are best left alone. Opening an ancient tomb and unleashing the curse of the mummy. Going deep into the woods and being lost in a fairy ring. Making a deal with something old that will somehow twist the deal into the worst possible outcome for you. The idea of consulting the fates and finding out about the future. Humansloveit.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Sasha had answered. “Our own lives at times can feel mundane. Like there’s a basic set of rules we have to follow, nothing special, nothing mystic. No world in between or beyond. That seems miserable. So, even if it’s risky, even if we perhaps shouldn’t, we want to be able to feel something more within our lives. To take our chances with the unknown because it’s infinitely more fascinating to us.”
“Hmph,” Imogen had replied. “You guys don’t even get half the stuff right in those films, books, and shows you write about witchcraft. We certainly don’t sit around chanting creepily and summon random demons from the depths of hell to do our dirty work.”
“You do blood rituals, though. That’s pretty evil.”
“It’s not. Blood is the pulse of living things. It is what’s needed to work powerful magic, but by itself is not inherently evil. It is only those who seek to use it for evil things that give it a bad name. Putting a blood curse on someone’s family is, of course, not good. But using the blood to give a family a blessing? Protection? Prosperity? To replenish their life form when it bleeds out of them? These are things that can be wrought with blood as well. Would you consider those evil?”
“No, I suppose not. But still… it’s kinda creepy thinking about how people can use blood. For good or evil.”
Imogen didn’t have much more to say after that. She simply conceded the discussion, and they went on to talk about more ordinary things rather than explore the ramifications of magic and whether or not it could be used for good or evil and that all that mattered was the person who wielded the magic rather than the magic itself.
Still, maybe it was better to not have to rely on the generosity of an individual to use something for good. Maybe it was better for it to never exist at all, so the temptation to wield it in a less honorable way wouldn’t be possible.
If only the worldactuallyworked that way. For it seemed whenever something good existed, or people did something unequivocally good – someone else out there was determined to drag everyone through destruction and malice in return.
One evening, when Sasha was at Cyrus’ place, trying to cook him something that wasn’t just a piece of meat with an entire bottle of spice thrown over it, there was a knock at the door. The kind of knock that made Cyrus and his sister, sitting on the sofa, go from carefree to nervous.
“Who is it?” Sasha asked, noting their tension. The siblings glanced at each other before Cyrus rose and answered the door.
“Father,” Cyrus said.
A man strode into the apartment. A man with icy blue eyes – the kind that could freeze someone’s blood just by looking at them.
Chapter Eight – Cyrus
Oh no. The last thing he wanted was for his father to encounter Sasha so early. Even though Torag knew by now that Cyrus was allowing a human to operate and had even seen her walking through the arena and introducing Cyrus to the crowd – it didn’t mean Cyrus particularly wanted his fatheranywherenear her. Not if he could help it.
Yet here the old man was all arrogant confidence, sliding into the apartment, noting the blood witch with some interest.
“My, my,” he said. “You’re keeping quite the company these days, son.”
“Why are you here, Father?” Cyrus snapped, knowing it wasn’t a social visit. Usually, his father liked to exercise some power dynamic, prowling around and acting like he owned his son, and if his son stepped out of line, then God forbid what might happen. He moved slightly to stand between his father and Sasha, who looked at him with a calculating, shrewd expression.
Interesting. He’d expected fear.
“I wanted to pay a little visit to see this human whom you’ve been using as your figurehead. So far, she seems to be doing a good job, as no one has yet voiced any suspicions about who is really behind the mask.” His father examined Imogen, pursing his lips. “And you have a blood witch protecting her. Perhaps wise… given how susceptible humans can be to our charms. Through no fault of their own, of course. They simply cannot resist. And, who can blame them?”
Imogen’s eyes narrowed, and her hand reached into a side pocket. Perhaps ready to cast something toward his father. He sure hoped it wouldn’t boil down to that. He was in enough trouble as it was. Without there also being an assault that would turn the old man’s wrath against them.
“You’re not here just to look at a human. There’s something more going on. What is it?”
Torag gave a rather sinister smile that showed most of his teeth. “I would arrange… another deal. One that isveryimportant for you to agree to, should you not want any issues to occur. I trust you can follow instructions as clearly as the previous ones I have given?”
“Sure, but you know we can message each other or even call each other on the phone, right? There’s no need to turn up unannounced at the door.”