Running With Devils

Twenty-Two

The Art of Mortal Anatomy. The Treatises of Seven. The Great War. I flipped open a cover, surprised to find a publishing trademark. The Seventh Circle had publishing houses?

I set down the book, still puzzled by the discovery and kept perusing the aisles. Who knew? Maybe they had some cheesy romance to take my mind off things.

There was none to be found, but I did come across a small dusty book that looked more like a journal. There was no title, but I opened it to the first page and frowned.

It looked like a bunch of letters bound together. The low lighting made it difficult to decipher and handwriting was very eccentric. Small lettering swirled across the pages.

I had been able to understand the first line of it.

It's been three centuries since I'd last seen her...

Curiosity makes people do stupid things. Stealing a book of love letters from a demonic library seemed like it would fall in that category. But in my head, all I could think about was the missing context. I needed to know more.

Who had written this? And who was she?

I kept the book in my arms, hurrying to the door. I checked the hallway for unwanted eyes and made a break for my room. It took me a couple doors to figure out which one I was in. But once I was in, I turned on my lamp and sat on the bed to read.

Whoever this was, had lost someone— either to death or by some other means. It never said which. But every line was dripping with absolute desire for this woman to be returned.

Some was written in Latin, which helped with my need to refresh my knowledge of the subject. I flipped through the pages haphazardly until my eyes caught something towards the end.

I flipped back to see diagrams and drawings of what looked like a ritual of some sort. But I had never seen anything like it.

Four shadows gathered. One soul.

Then a convergence.

Fuck. I wish I had my phone to take a picture of this. I had no idea what this meant. I tucked the book beneath my pillow for future reading.

I jolted when I heard two voices in the hallway.

"Is that mortal I smell on you, Mal," a smooth feminine voice purred softly. "Have you been stepping out on our conjugal visits, baby?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Hecate," he chuckled. "Besides, no one does what you do. I'll always come back."

"You'll sweet talk yourself out of anything, won't you," she sighed.

"Well, I don't have to talk. I can do other things," he said, his voice low. "In fact, I'd much rather prefer we don't speak at all."

"Oh?"

Yes. Please shut up. I was going to be sick.

"How does that sound to you," he asked quietly.

She seemed to agree cause the next thing I heard were the two swapping spit like it was a DNA sample kit.

If I didn't tell them to move along, they probably would have ended up fucking against my door. But if I did tell them to pack it up, I'd look desperate.

There was no winning. But I could at least keep some of my sanity.

I angrily stomped to the door, swinging it wide open. I was met with two demons who didn't even bother to look at me. Even after I coughed loudly, they just kept at it.

"Could you not do that here," I asked sharply.

A pair of glittering silver eyes flitted toward me. The female's feline eyes became amused and she pulled away.

"You didn't tell me you kept her as a plaything," she laughed. "I haven't had a good three way in ages."

"Malachi," I growled. "You're not going to change my mind by being a dick about it."

He groaned, head dropping back. "Have you ever considered, little witch, that some things don't revolve around you and that we were here simply because we couldn't help ourselves?"

"Mhm," I said, narrowing my eyes thoughtfully. "Yea. No. You're definitely here on purpose."

"So you're the witch that everyone's talking about," the female spoke softly. "Aren't you the cutest."

"And you are," I asked blandly.

"Hecate," she sighed. "Coralynn, is it?"

I folded my arms. "Yea?"

She only smiled. Not kindly. It was cruel. Her eyes wandered down my body as if sizing me up.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she said, turning her gaze back to Malachi, who's smug look hadn't left his face the entire time. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

"Certainly," he chuckled as she led him down the hall into what I assumed to be one of their many sex dungeons.

Pure rage coursed through me. He had set out for a reaction and he had gotten it. In a matter of minutes he had drawn out the worst from me.

Shutting my eyes, I inhaled deeply and turned to head back into my room in defeat.