Bad Luck, Baby

37 - Bad Timing

A deep and menacing growl emanated from Ro's form, and I took a step back, bumping into my father's chest. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a look of raw fear on his face—quickly masked, but still not encouraging.

Ro had not moved, and yet his lack of urgency to do so was almost more chilling than violence. He stood at the center of the great seal, watching us: a lord of hell with time and advantage on his side.

"The seal will hold him, won't it?" I asked. "We're safe as long as he doesn't break free."

My father's eyes skimmed over the symbols at our feet, then tracked around the room. As he did so, the color drained from his face, leaving him with a fittingly ghostly pallor.

"This isn't a demonic seal, Ellie," he whispered. "It's Enochian. This entire room is an angelic trap. I don't think it's holding Ro at all, but it may very well hold you."

As Ro's yellow eyes skipped between me and my father, a sudden, cold certainty took root in my chest. I moved to stand between them and did my best not to let my voice betray my fear.

"You go after Evangeline," I said. "I'll handle Ro."

My father gripped my upper arm, his hand cold and hard as iron through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Are you insane? He'll butcher you."

I shrugged him off impatiently. "No, he won't. He's my daemon now, and he won't hurt me. He can't."

I stepped forward, but my father caught my arm again and held me back. "He's being compelled, Ellie," he hissed. "Evangeline's done something to him. Even if you'd actually bonded with him, you couldn't rely on that now."

"We are bonded," I countered. "He told me his name; we made a deal. I felt it."

"You can make deals without forming bonds, and you can form bonds without making deals. I never died, so my bond with him is still in place. Besides... I don't know if you even could form a true witch-daemon bond. You're not—"

"Entirely human?" I laughed and shook my head. "If you're right, then I still have the better chance. Go while you can. Do your job."

He bit his lip as Ro paced and growled. Huge, twisted wings of shadow, leather, and scale sprouted from his back, and his luminous yellow eyes burned in a face made terrible by rage, but he hadn't yet attacked.

Finally, my father released his hold on my arm, and made the decision I knew he would.

It was the same decision he'd been making my whole life; and even though I'd told him to—even though I wanted him to—it still hurt as he let me go and ran after Evangeline.

Still, seeing what Evangeline had done to Ro—what my father had done to him, what all the witches he'd ever known had done—and the complete lack of recognition in his eyes when looked at me, hurt more.

His eyes weren't on me, though. They followed my father the way a cat tracks prey before it pounces, and I had no more time to think.

As Ro spread his wings and his claws extended to dagger-like lengths, I looked to the power that burned like an unstable, dangerous nuclear reactor at my core.

It was easier this time. Whatever I'd done when I saved myself and Lucian had unlocked, or broken, something—probably whatever magics my mother had put in place to protect me—and it felt oddly natural to reach for and bend it to my will.

It would destroy me, if Ro did not—I was fairly certain of that—but not before I kept my promise.

As a scream tore itself from my throat and wings of pure light erupted from the barely healed seams in my back, Ro broke off his attack in surprise.

I gasped as white fire gathered on my skin, flickering along the lacy scars covering my hands. Meanwhile, the symbols surrounding me glowed in my vision, and some deep part of my mind understood their meaning. They weren't words; they were pure significance: tools that I could use.

A slightly unhinged laugh rose to my lips. If this was the way the cultists tried to entrap my mother, it was no wonder she'd fried them all to crisps. It was like putting a stick of dynamite in the center of a ring of burning matches.

And then, when I looked at Ro, I saw something else.

Heavy black chains made of oily smoke—dark magic, I presumed—trailed from his wrists, back and chest, anchored to his flesh by barbed hooks.

It was no wonder he was out of his mind. He was in agony.

Letting the fire spread from my hands into the air, filling the great chamber with a blinding light, I pulled on the seal and symbols themselves for knowledge and power.

Ro released a snarl of rage, meeting my power with his own, leapt high, and fell upon me like a dark bird of prey.

I received him with open arms, enveloping him in wings of light; and even as his claws pierced me through, I burned away his chains.

He screamed, dropping me as he arched his back and white fire licked across his torso and over his limbs, devouring all traces of the dark bonds holding him. With a rush of divine wind, the remnants scattered as ash, and when Ro fell to his hands and knees beside me, I saw someone I loved.

My fire subsided and darkness returned, all the candles extinguished by the blast. Ro blinked and raised himself a little, and stared at his claw-tipped hands. Then his gaze shifted to me, and a look of pure horror dawned across his face.

"Ellie?"

My lips formed his name in return, but no sound escaped them. I found it hard to draw a full breath. There was a funny taste at the back of my tongue—something hot and coppery—and I swallowed thickly as I tried again.

Before I could speak, he lifted me into his lap, black hair spilling over his shoulders like a curtain. Despite the loss of the candles, some source still cast light upon his face. As he bent close and lifted my hand in his, I realized it was me.

A faint glow radiated from beneath my skin, though it faded breath by breath.

"Ellie, what have you done?" he whispered raggedly, his eyes traveling my body as he caressed my face with a bloodstained hand. "Gods, what have I done?"

Reaching up, I grasped the back of his neck and drew him towards me as I struggled to form words.

"I made a promise, Ro. I'm here to keep it."

"What promise? Where are we? All I remember is being locked in Lucian's room and then—"

"Never mind that. Just listen to me. Please."

Tears slipped down his face, but he nodded and lifted me a little higher in his arms.

I shut my eyes and reached for the last of my energy, layering it upon my voice and giving it power beyond that of any mortal witch.

"I free you, A'Rozimbrel, of every bond. I free you... even of your name. So may it be, and so... it is done."

With a sense of relief, I heard Ro gasp as my words took hold, and knew that it had worked.

Through a twilight haze, I looked up at him and saw him as he truly was.

A prince among demons, powerful beyond measure, good of heart despite everything that had happened to him, and now—entirely free.

And strangely, I was happy. Maybe for the first, and certainly the last time in my life, as I looked up at him and saw the shock and wonder on his face; as darkness closed down, and a rush like a river surrounded me; as everything came to an end; as I looked up into Ro's bright, yellow eyes, and saw my pain and love reflected there, I was happy.

Then he held me to his chest and enveloped me in the black velvet of raven-feathered wings.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "but I cannot do the same for you. I love you too damned much, Ellie, and I will never let you go."

"Ro..."

"Stay with me. Please."

He smiled as the light faded and the waters of night drew me down to sleep; safe in his arms, I surrendered without fear.