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Chapter 10
Asena sat cross legged on Rory’s floor, the grimoire suspended between her hands. Sweat graced her brow as she concentrated on keeping the book afloat.
“That’s not what I meant when I said to read the books,” I said, summoning the book to my hand with ease. “You have to actually read them, not just levitate them.”
Asena lifted her furious eyes to me. “I figured you’d be proud of me for learning a spell–you know, the things I hate beyond measure,” she bit out at me.
I flipped open to the page I wanted her to read and then handed it back to her. “Magic you should’ve learned by now.”
Her cheeks darkened as she glanced down at the book. She held it in her lap, muttering the words as she read. Her eyes lifted to mine and then back down to the page when she realized I was watching her.
“Okay, so the witches believed that sacrifice was the only way for Grim to ascend,” she said in exasperation. “We’ve gathered that. Tell me what you want me to understand.”
I let out a frustrated groan and shoved my hands into my pockets. “It doesn’t matter how you die, you will ascend.”
Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Okay, you’ve said that before so why are you pressing your point?”
“Because you’re suicidal and I wanted to make sure you understood that there was no escaping your fate,” I replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Like I’d ever dream of it now that you’re here,” she quipped.
I glared in response to her sarcasm. I knelt down in front of her so I was face-to-face with her. “Does it scare you that much to know that you will spend the rest of eternity carrying souls across the Veil?”
Her lips parted in surprise at my question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m learning magic like you wanted and even reading your book. What makes you think I’m scared? Am I not doing enough?”
“Princess, you’ll never do enough,” I sighed. “You have weeks to become strong enough to save yourself which already has a slim chance, but then we add you into the equation and we’re fucked.”
She glared at me, her mouth gaping in surprise. “I resent that.”
“You should…even though it’s true.”
“And what would you have me do? Learn advanced magic within weeks and then come out to the mausoleum with an army of the dead?”
I laughed once humorlessly. “It’d be nice if you even learned basic magic.”
“Oh, that would get you off my back?”
“Definitely not,” I told her. “The only solace I will find is your absence after you ascend.”
Her cheeks flamed red as she slammed the grimoire shut. “I’m going for a walk.” She began gathering her jacket and key, each step a stomp of rage.
“I’ll join you.”
She whirled around, pointing her keys at me. “I’d rather be alone,” she snapped.
I snorted. “I’d rather you weren’t.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits for a moment, gauging my expression before she said, “You’re not going to let me go alone, are you?”
“Nope.”
She sighed and finally caved, not saying anything. She led the way from her bedroom, stomping down the steps to either announce her departure or her displeasure, I wasn’t sure.
Outside, the air was cold enough for me to see her breath as we trudged over snow piles from the shoveled sidewalks. She kept the pace brisk, heading to the graveyard as we walked in silence.
“Everyone tells me I’m supposed to move on from that night,” she said furiously as she squeezed through the iron bars guarding the cemetery. “But they never consider that I can’t move on from that night.”
“How so?” I asked, intrigued where this conversation was going to go.
She glanced back at me as I slipped through the gate. “Because my entire family, or everyone I considered family, has betrayed me since I was a child and continues to do so by unknowingly plotting my death.”
I scoffed. “I think we want you to move on from your parents dying, not everyone betraying you.” I picked up my pace to catch up to her. “The betrayal is understandable but everyone wants you to pick yourself up from your parents' deaths and stop blaming yourself. They got into that car. It was their choice.”
“But I made them make that choice. You wouldn’t understand,” she snapped at me.
I thought of my own family, my mother brutalized in front of me and my son murdered, and simply replied in a cold, wary voice, “Don’t be so sure I wouldn’t understand.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but froze.
Ahead of us, the head of the English household, Jeremiah, stood staring at us. “Asena? Who are you talking to?”
“I…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I…uhm…”
As the silence dragged into seconds, I could see the comprehension grow on his face. I opened my mouth to alert Asena, but it was too late. Jeremiah was already blurting out, “It’s you, isn’t it? I can feel his presence with you.” He began to take a step back.
“I can explain!” Asena blurted out, holding up her hands like she was trying to hold up a wall.
“The coven will be so happy to hear–”
“--No!” she roared, extending her hand towards him as if it were instinct.
I was, once again, too late for what happened next. I watched in utter horror as green magic erupted from Asena’s hand and latched itself onto Jeremiah, ripping his soul from his body and yanking it to her. Startled, she held the soul in her hands, staring at the ball of light, unmoving.
As Mr. English’s body slumped to the ground, neither of us moved. When I finally did, I crept towards her gently. “Asena,” I said quietly. “I need you to give me the soul–”
She didn’t take her eyes off the soul. “Is he dead?” she cried, her voice thick with panic.
“Asena, I need the soul,” I repeated, holding out my hands. “Give me the soul and everything will be okay.”
She pulled it away from me. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to take care of it.”
“Are you going to put it back in his body?”
I looked over at the body and then at the soul. Souls were tricky because some could be put back into their body, but in this case the soul was subtly flickering. Flickering was a subtle sign that the soul did not want to go back to its body because the body is in too much distress. It was the soul’s time–or close to it.
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Put it back in his body, Death. I know you can.”
“I can’t. It’s been outside his body too long. He has to go across the Veil, Asena.”
“No!” she shrieked looking down at the soul in her trembling hands. “It’s not his time–he can’t die, because if he dies–”
I lunged forward and took hold of her wrists in one hand, then I snatched the soul from her hands. “This is not a toy,” I snarled through my teeth into her tear-soaked face. “This is someone’s soul, and that someone is ready to cross into the Other Side. Now I’m going to help them do that while you clean up the mess you just made.”
“But I can’t! I’ll go to–to jail!” she stuttered, her voice shaking with tears.
I rolled my eyes. “The only thing his body shows is that he died of a heart attack. No foul play. No murder. No jail. Relax. Call it in. Pretend to be concerned and then go home and tuck yourself into bed knowing that he died of a heart attack–”
“Because I ripped his fucking soul from his body!” she spat out, her face turning a concerning shade of purple as her panic seized her.
“Now–”
“No! I just killed someone and I didn’t even mean–”
I snapped my fingers in her face, startling her. “If you do not calm down I will personally knock you on your ass so hard you will see galaxies. Now, chill out.”
“How am I supposed to relax?!” she cried, grabbing onto the front of my clothes.
I glared down at her, my jaw set. I knocked her hands away with a swift movement. “Firstly, if you ever touch me again, I will rock your world. Secondly, understand this, Asena Black, you are a necromancer. Death is your magic, and manipulating it is what you do. He was going to die soon, and you manipulated that. So, before you rip yourself to pieces, simply acknowledge that you sped up the inevitable end we all meet. Besides, we are not normal witches. We never have been. The rules they use cannot apply to us.Now, either call the police and report him or don’t. I don’t care. I have somewhere to be, and calming your blubbering isn’t it.”
“So, I didn’t kill him?”
I stared down at her, blandly. “I’m leaving.”
“Please wait–”
“How many times must I tell you,” I whirled on her, my teeth ground together as I spat out each word; “I. Am. Leaving.” Then I transported myself to the field in front of the In Between.
The soul floated from my hands and took shape in front of me. Jeremiah took shape in front of me, his eyes wide as he took in the sights before him. “So, this is heaven.”
“No,” I said, holding out my hand towards the Veil; “this is just the doorstep. Come. We have your new home to see.”
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