Page 35 of The Heartless One
“What was her name?” she asked.
“Sarah.”
“Sarah is a beautiful name,” Jessamine replied. “I hope you know I will always care for her. If your bravery ends in sadness, your family will always be safe with me. No matter how hard it is to provide them safety.”
Elissa nodded, her eyes on her twisting fingers before she said, “Fortuna wanted to know when you were coming. There were rumors, you see. Rumors of a witch who killed Callum Quen. Then stories of a god reawakened. It all made them nervous.”
“Who are they?”
“The nobility who betrayed you, and most of the people who run the Pleasure District. They all know each other, and they all know Leon Bishop. The kingdom prospers for them and them alone, but that is how it always works. Peasants break their backs to never see the fruits of theirlabor. Artists perform until their fingers bleed, but rarely are they paid. And the rich continue to play, on and on, until the world burns around them.”
The haunting words played over and over in her mind. Because they were true. Because they hurt to hear. Because no one should believe that, and yet, what other belief was there?
Jessamine opened her mouth on an inhale and then blew it all on with a sigh. “If you are going to be part of this coven, you have to trust us to protect you.”
“I don’t know that you can.”
It was Sybil who stood, her chair screeching across the floor as she reached for Elissa’s hand. Dark and light, intertwined together as their fingers meshed like a woven tapestry. “We will bleed for you, Elissa. What more could you ask for? A coven is a family, and a family protects.”
Elissa looked between the two of them as tears dripped down her cheeks.
Elric’s hands came down on her shoulders, dark with claws that stretched from his fingertips. Yet they were gentle as he held on to her. And it was his deep voice that came and echoed what the witches had said.
“If you do not trust in your fellow witches, then trust in me.” His fingers squeezed, and Jessamine could see the white marks he left with his tight grip. “There are no longer any gods left to save the few who would threaten you. But even in the days of old, when the gods still roamed this kingdom…there were few they could save from me.”
Elissa’s eyes widened with every word, but Jessamine could also see her spine straighten. She finally nodded firmly. “I apologize for my mistake. I will not question the coven again.”
“See that you don’t,” Jessamine replied before Sybil could beat her to it. “We do not forgive twice.”
Elric sat up out of a deep sleep, gasping as a nightmare held him in its grip. He couldn’t breathe fast enough to catch his breath. He was covered in sweat, slicked down his back and through his hair so thoroughly that he could feel droplets running down his spine in an icy trail. His heart thundered, and he wasn’t even sure why.
“It was just a dream,” he muttered, looking around the room to make sure that Jessamine wasn’t with him.
She wasn’t. She must have gotten up early to meet with the other witches. He knew they’d been talking with Elissa more, even though he had advised against it. The witch had betrayed them once already, and now she knew they wouldn’t kill her for it. They should have beheaded her and set the head out in front of the home for everyone else to see.
Then no one would question what would happen if they betrayed Jessamine. No one would think for even a moment that they could test the might of the coven.
And of the Deathless One himself.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, trying hard not to think about the nightmare that had plagued him. It was another experience with a coven. He was certain of that. Just thinking the word made goose bumps rise on his arms. Witches could not be trusted. And he no longer trusted the one whose house they were staying in. No wonder the old memories plagued him.
He counted each breath, trying to force his lungs to slow down. This body was far more uncomfortable than he remembered it being. Orperhaps two hundred years alone in the dark had fractured his mind. He wasn’t the same god he had once been.
Waving a hand and casting a quick spell to clean himself of the sweat and grime of the night, he dressed quickly before joining the others in the main house. He wasn’t proud of how long it took for him to open the door after hearing the low mumble of words on the other side. He stood out there on the step, listening to the idle chatter within. The rise and fall of their voices should have calmed him, and yet, all it did was raise his hackles even more than they already were. He had to close his eyes and breathe again, counting to a hundred before he opened the door.
Immediately, his gaze found Jessamine. Her wild tangle of hair was tied atop her head, coiling curls poking out in all directions like she’d turned her hair into a bird’s nest. Her cheeks were flushed with some emotion he couldn’t guess at, and she was wildly flailing her hands in the air like she did when she was passionate about what she was speaking of.
He’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now. And something in his soul eased at the sight of her.
Because for all the witches that had harmed him, betrayed him, tried to make him hurt for the power he had that they didn’t… there was one who only wished him peace.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” she said, her eyes finding his with a soft smile in them before she continued. “There’s another witch.”
Just like that, all the ease vanished. His gaze flicked to Sybil, to the traitor, and then back to Jessamine. “I felt no other join the coven.”
“She has no coven,” Elissa said, her voice pitched low and quiet as though she already knew he was angry with her. “She is known for her magic around these parts, though. An impressive spell caster, apparently, although I’ve never met her myself.”
“Why are we investing our time in another witch?”
