This is a companion story to A Mile With Sorrow. It won't make much sense unless you've read the whole saga. Expect the next chapter of that one to be up in a few days!
MWS spoiler alert! This vignette contains massive spoilers for future content of A Mile With Sorrow, so be warned…skip it if you don't want insight into Ash's actions in the upcoming chapters. Most of the info here will appear in MWS eventually.
I was stuck, so I wrote this to see what was going through Ash and Al's head. What followed was too good not to share. The following conversation takes place in Al's conservatory, just after Evie leaves to go talk to Adrian after MWS chapter 13. It's mostly for those who would like to know more about the nature of Ash and Al's past relationship, and my version of demons in general. (Forgive the third person omniscient POV and the info dumps. This was more of an exercise to clarify my thoughts than anything else, and it's still rough.) If you like this sort of thing (sort of a deleted scenes or behind-the-scenes kind of story) then let me know and I'll post other scenes along these lines next time I get stuck.
Al's mate's name, Keerin, is inspired by the Japanese Kirin, a powerful, beautiful chimeric creature similar to a dragon.
Interlude: Heart to Heart
Ash stared for a long moment at the space Evie had been, as Al pulled at his lace and generally tried to pretend he was not the cause of all the angst. "All is not wine and roses with your paramour, I take it?" Al asked finally, but even this didn't prompt much of a response. Ash merely glared, and it was half-hearted and distracted. Al peered over his glasses at Ash, appraising and keenly interested.
"She baffles me," Ash admitted finally.
"What did you expect?" Al said lightly, as if Rachel did not baffle, irritate, and piss him off on a regular basis. "She hasn't been brought up properly."
Ash stared at Algaliarept, until the older demon began to feel uneasy. Yes, what he'd done had been vicious and cruel. Yes, he had decided that perhaps he'd gone a bit far in his meddling. Evie certainly wouldn't understand his motives, the deep resentment and even deeper affection he held for his former student. In so many ways, Ash was his creation. Al had fashioned him, honed him, transforming the spoiled but talented brat into a formidable opponent. Part of it had been simply boredom- even at the tender age of a thousand or so, Al had begun to feel the first creeping tendrils of ennui, and winning the task of educating the last of their kind after Newt's first breakdown had given him a worthy challenge. Al was proud of Ash, even though the younger demon had nowhere near the cold deviousness of his mentor.
"Kavim," Al prompted, pulling out a long-unused nickname, and Ash shuddered.
"No," Ash replied, voice hoarse.
"Kavim," Al repeated, gentler. Ash held himself stiff, but he didn't slug Al, or push his hand away from his shoulder. Ash felt the tingle of demon magic course over him, familiar and warm, healing the wounds he'd sustained on the surface. But no magic would ever erase the deeper wounds.
"No." Ash pulled it together and shrugged away, hunched and unable to hide his pain. He could have faced down any other bastard in the Ever After, but his connection to Al was still too strong, even after the centuries. But at least his mind was closed to Al now, and if he could just keep his fool mouth shut, he'd be fine. It didn't matter that Al could read him like a book anyway, there was still strength in silence.
Al was silent, too, evaluating, judging, scheming, and Ash's disgust and deeper weariness began to grow. Al was a master manipulator, Ash knew it. Spending a week with him- the first time- had made Evie so much stronger. But what had the demon done to her this time? Untrained demon women were half-insane anyway, and Evie now looked like one harsh word would send her irretrievably over the brink. Forget trying to bind the woman—getting through the next week without her going nova and killing them both was looking like a challenge.
Still…at least Evie hadn't been the one to break the Ever After...
"You know I did it for you," Al said finally. "You were always such a romantic."
Ash hid a smile. That was rich, coming from Al, of all demons. "Are you satisfied with the outcome?"
Al's smiled beneficently, but Ash had seen the brief furrow between his brows. "She's quite tough. I'm pleased. But…perhaps…I did take it a bit far. But time is short, you know that. We can't afford to have you two dicking around when we have so little time left."
Ash folded his arms. That had been quite a concession for the confident trickster. "She wasn't lying. She would have killed you. She nearly went critical, there, on the surface."
"Yes, over what I did to you, rather than what I did to her. So sweet." Glib as he was, even Al knew he'd pushed things way too far with that stunt, attacking her mind while she was bound with silver. Evie, and Ash, who claimed her, were both well in their rights to press charges for what, in the old days, would have been a capital offense. "You've twisted her priorities so very deftly; I have to admire your talent."
"It wasn't me. As you said, it's her upbringing."
"Oh, I don't think so. Rachel, yes. But your Yvette is one ambitious demoness. Quite willing to swallow just about any degradation, as long as it furthers her interests and affects only herself. She'll get herself quite riled over injustice to others, though. Have you given any thought as to why she'd allow you and I to take such liberties?"
Of course he had. He'd spent the last month or so angsting over the consequences of the damage he'd done to her so long ago, demolishing her young psyche and placing his compulsion on her. "I dosed her with venom as a girl," Ash said. "The guilt and the compulsion would have brought any witch crawling back to that clearing, but then…she wasn't a witch." He left the rest unsaid. Such a thing, corrupting a mind so young and vulnerable, would also have been a capital crime, back in the old days when there were young women to corrupt, and older women to care. There were limits to how low a male should stoop, and he'd been struggling not to acknowledge his actions and their consequences. That she'd resisted the compulsion for nearly fifty years before succumbing spoke to an inner strength that was worthy of any demoness, but it hadn't left her unbroken. And she had succumbed in the end. Then she'd owned it, and turned it around- turned it into a bond that he didn't understand, couldn't trust, and was helpless to resist.
Al froze, and peered at Ash over his glasses. "Kavim." His voice was severe and stern. " You didn't just tell me that."
Ash shrugged, face flushing. Confession to Al, likewise, had always been difficult to resist. And this had been weighing on his soul for months. Sure, Ash had removed the compulsion, but how much of her passion had been shaped by it? How much was a lie, an illusion? How much would she hate him when it finally dawned on her, the magnitude of how much he'd warped her mind and twisted her will? No, if he were honest with himself, it had weighed on him for years, ever since his second taste of her blood. How had he been so blind, to have missed it the first time, the night he'd given her the first scar? Of course she'd kept it- she could no more have erased it than she could have erased her hand, or heart. But she'd owned that, too, hadn't she? What it meant to her now, to him…he didn't like to think about it. Or guess how Al had realized its significance, when he'd erased it…and later, when he'd replaced it for her.
Al removed his glasses very carefully and began to clean them with slow, deliberate motions using a monogrammed hankie from one of his many velvet pockets. Neither of them spoke. Al could take this information to Newt, and Newt would have Ash's head. It was a simple as that.
And Al wouldn't. It was, also, as simple as that.
"It explains Therese, anyway," Al said finally, replacing his glasses before failing to meet Ash's eyes. "She's spent a lifetime fighting her demon nature."
"Yes." It was so simple, Ash could have kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. "She thought it was survivor's guilt, something in herself to be despised and rejected and overcome. I tried to explain but I don't think she-"
Al's mouth fell open. Unable to stop himself, he marched over and smacked Ash hard upside the head. "Idiot! You. Told. Her. Kaviashmedaeva, you have a remarkable inability to keep your mouth shut. While I find it endearing- not to mention conveniently profitable- I still wonder how the hell you've survived this long."
Ash scuffed his feet like a teenager. "Only with you," he mumbled.
Al snorted, but his hand, clamped tight on Ash's shoulder, loosened just slightly. His gloved fingers toyed with Ash's disheveled amber-golden hair, and Ash didn't pull away. "I dosed Rachel, too," Al admitted. "She was of age. But…"
Ash stared at the far wall. "We always do. Common. A little harmless fun. After all, it's been so meaningless for so long…"
Al humphed in uncomfortable agreement. All in good fun. Dose the captive, watch them writhe. Ensnare a human to the point where bloodlust turned them into feral little shadows of demons. Mark a witch, make him beg for more. Bring an elf to her knees, compulsion wringing out the pride until she was all naked need. Break their minds, break their spirits, with barely any effort at all. It was a world of male demons, with male appetites, and no women to hold them back. No balance, no restraint. Meaningless.
Until it wasn't.
Because it wasn't venom, not really. Venom was just a convenient word for something that could be fatal, if not used with moderation. Fatal not just in a physical sense, but for the connections it could forge, the soul-deep bonds it could create. For how vulnerable it could make a demoness, and the consequences of her displeasure. For how vulnerable it made a male, who gave of his essence and his aura, of his very soul- little pieces that were not quickly replenished.
Venom was the most intimate gift two demons could share, a gift that had once been precious and cherished. To squander it for such filthy, common appetites was…obscene. Just like the familiar bonds, once used to shelter and protect the vulnerable, now twisted to horrifying, selfish ends. Like the collective that was once a social, vital part of their society…but now it was twisted, soiled, a monstrosity, existing to store their most corrupt curses and cruder entertainment. Like the curse that once linked them, made them strong, but now bound them in this never-ending hell and fueled their immortality using their own lost souls, and those other truly lost souls damned long ago and banished to the surface in bodies that could not be affected by the shifting, shattered realities, to exist in their own surreal insanity until the worlds collided. Like the Ever After itself, the abomination that they'd created. Like the curse they'd laid on the elves, the cruel, unnatural curse that had doomed their enemies to extinction, fueled by such furious hate that it had driven many of their own mad with the nightmares that arose from it, including Al's own beloved wife, and Ash's mother, and most of the other demon women who had ever borne a child. And centuries, centuries, endless centuries of death, destruction, annihilation of everything else good or moral or decent. A race of degenerate creatures, locked into a cycle of vengeance and hatred, forever locked away from the sun.
Al stepped to face Ash, and saw hell burning in the demon's eyes. Their gazes locked.
"Algaliarept?" Ash's voice was quiet, hoarse, and intimate. "What have we become?"
Algaliarept couldn't immediately reply, for he, too, had had his own recent brush with the reality of their degradation when he'd slid through Rachel's mind. Tempting as it was to gloss it over with his usual cynical flippancy, Al found that he was tired of hiding from the truth. All the demons did. They had to, for the sake of their own sanity.
All but Newt. The strongest of them all, in mind and body and magic and knowledge. It wasn't for her insanity that they despised her, but for her refusal to leave them their illusions.
"Beraxadu, what is our path?" Ash reverted to the ancient tongue, quietly pleading for guidance from his old mentor.
"To endure, now, to the end," Al said, hearing the words echoing over the many, many long empty centuries. "Apêmem." Forever after. The last battle cry of their kind. His words were weary, and they both heard it.
"To what end?" Ash growled, breaking the spell. He turned away, balled fists tight and useless. He kicked at the path, sending gravel skittering until it hit the invisible stone walls of the enclosure, appearing to bounce off thin air. "Newt is right. The bitch has always been right."
Newt would see them all die out, picked off by boredom and insanity. Al found himself slightly amused. "You sound discontent with that. Will you become a crusader, my Kavim? Seek to redeem us all…?"
Ash favored Al with a condescending glare. Unmoved, Al forced an unfelt smile. "You have the means to our salvation at hand, as do I. If we can bind our women, we, at least, can escape the trap."
"We'll use them up, spit them out, leave them rotting and bitter inside, and they'll leave us in the dark to perish. You know it as well as I."
Al raised a challenging eyebrow. "Perhaps you will. I happen to be far more subtle at manipulating—"
"Sure. And that's why she's out in hiding with an elf," Ash said viciously. He saw the blade bite into Al, cutting deep.
The demon visibly refrained himself from retaliating, however, and his forced grin grew wider and more anticipatory. It didn't reach his ancient eyes. "Three words for you, my friend. Make-up sex."
Ash felt a streak of remembered heat flash through him, not only because of his recent encounter with Evie, but because Al's bedroom tone had just resurrected several centuries worth of such make-up encounters between he and Al. Apparently that candle hadn't been as thoroughly extinguished as he'd thought, Ash mused, a wry smile quirking his lips. Al was gifted at making himself irresistible, no doubt about it.
Then he thought of Evie in Al's arms, succumbing to temptation, and the icewater of that image was extremely effective. "I won't stop her from murdering you, next time," he growled.
Al blinked at Ash's sudden downshift, then smiled wickedly. "Why Kavim. I do believe you're jealous. Surely you don't think I went to all that trouble to break you apart for her sake?"
"No, I think you did it for the sake of being an ass," Ash replied.
Al waved this aside. "You really think your demoness will let you trick her into such a bond? You know as well as I that they can't be won by trickery or deceit. I was only doing you a favor with my little wake-up call. You were getting a little too lost in your dreamy fantasy."
Ash gave Al a significant look, voice mocking. "Why Gally, I do believe you're jealous."
Al scoffed, but Ash's gaze was far too discerning for him to avoid, not after the truths they'd just been forced to face together. The pause was uncomfortably long. Al swallowed, but he couldn't lie. Not here, not in his sanctuary from the darkness, within the last memory of his mate. And not to Ash, not now. He drew a breath, hissed it out as if it were bladed and stabbing him, closing his eyes and letting himself fall into their old, comfortable pattern. "Yes."
When he opened his eyes, Ash was before him. They reached for each other, embracing. They sighed as their lips met, centuries of aching loneliness in their kiss.
In a shimmer of Ever After, Al's body became less hard and muscular, more androgynous as he pulled on an old, familiar shape that would not accidentally poison the other demon with his venom. Ash had no curses left in him, or he'd have done the same. It wasn't that demons frowned on homosexuality; it was simply that males were biologically incompatible. Males could fuck, could make love, could become familiars, could even open their souls briefly to share their auras, but they couldn't form the soul-deep bonds with each other that only the females could sustain. But far worse, males usually succumbed to temptation and bloodlust at some point in any relationship, resulting in painful or fatal consequences when their venom mingled. Al was risking those consequences at the moment, and he didn't care. Ash knew this was Al's apology, and he was sorely tempted to make Al suffer, but he had never been able to bring himself to do it. Even making himself vulnerable, Al was the master of their relationship.
Their tongues battled and the kiss grew heated, but Ash finally broke it off. "No," he growled.
"Please," Al said. His red eyes were lost and uncertain, full of want. It was an expression that had never failed to seduce Ash, even when he knew what would follow. Demon males had a protective instinct a mile wide, and Al never failed to strike exactly the right combination of strength and vulnerability to trigger it. He would have made a fine demoness.
But it wasn't real, and the desperation hiding beneath was new. And Ash had a demoness, one who was apparently driving Al bugfuck crazy. Ash had known Al's mate, Keerin. He'd wondered, a little, whether Al had seen the resemblance. Now it was all too clear that Al had, and it was killing him. But it was more than that. Al had lost his potential mate, and then lost the familiar who had helped distract him from his pain for centuries, and now he was losing the only other lover he'd known. It might have started as petty cruelty, but Rachel's death had sent Al over the edge. He might well have killed Evie tonight, even knowing it would mean a very cruel death at the hands of the collective. Not because she looked like Keerin, but because she was stealing Ash away from him.
Life was never simple, when you'd known someone for as long as Ash had known Al. "Rachel is alive," he said.
"Lost," Al replied, eyes bright with anguish. "She's hiding from me."
"And that's what's stopping you? The Algaliarept I know would rip her guts out before letting her get away."
Al jerked, and Ash realized with a start that Al was shaking with long-suppressed emotion. In a complete reversal of every encounter they'd ever had, Al was losing it first. Ash might have had something witty to say about it, if he'd been the heartless bastard he pretended to be. But Ash knew what Al feared- basically, what every male feared. Blowing it. Screwing up so badly that you'd never get a second chance. With demonesses, that usually meant you were dead, but the rules were changing.
"I can't train your Yvette," Al said, feeling shuddery relief course through him at the admission he'd been unwilling to face himself. If he couldn't complete his deal with Evie, she would be under no obligation to help train Rachel.
"I know." Ash kept his voice calm. He's suspected as much. Al was basically saying he was failing Rachel because of his own weakness, and it was tearing him apart to admit it.
"I can't. She wounds me with every gesture, every word…every scrap of emotion that peels off her—"
"I know."
"I've seen Rachel's soul. The way she sees me, sees us all—"
"You forget, they haven't been brought up properly. They still know how to forgive." He was counting on it, because the alternative, that things had changed forever, was unthinkable.
Al pulled back a little, and regarded Ash with a hint of a smile. The whites of his eyes were nearly as red as the irises and his flushed, smooth cheeks. "Seven thousand years hasn't beaten the optimism out of you yet?" Ash shrugged, and Al's smile grew. "You are an idiot," he said, and there was unmistakable fondness in his voice. But his smile faded as he said again, seriously. "I can't train her. But neither can you."
"I've thought on that," Ash admitted. He paused, but he'd already taken the plunge earlier by admitting his capital offense to Al. He'd been on a slippery slope ever since he'd broken his deal with Evie, and his latest stint on the surface, forced to confront the literal demons of his past along with the figurative, had left him with nothing else to lose. "I can help her get basic control over her powers, enough so she's not a danger to herself. As for the rest, should we find a way to save the Ever After, or escape it, there will be ample time to train her- and Rachel as well. If not…perhaps it would be better for the knowledge to die with us."
Al stared at Ash for a long time. To his credit, he didn't say the first dozen things that came into his head. Ash was sincere. And Al had to admit that it wasn't the first time he'd had such thoughts, such misgivings about subjecting Rachel to the regimen that would transform her into a powerful demi-goddess, able to wield the curses that could crush worlds and alter realities, and all of the soul-crushing consequences that came with them. It was treason, a betrayal of every demon who had fought for so long to survive—to deny them salvation for the sake of two new young females.
"They'd be safer in the world to come," Ash continued, when Al stayed silent. "In the long run. Especially if we can't escape."
"And what of us?" Al asked. "Do you propose we go quietly into that good night…?"
"No. I don't know. Newt might be right."
"She is right." Al shifted against Ash, tilting his head, a dangerous new light in his eyes. "It comes down to this, my Kavim. How far are we willing to go for redemption?"
"For redemption?" Ash made a face. "Fuck that. But for a chance to have it all? Something that actually fucking matters? Not the pitiful, soulless substitutes we've made do with?" His voice was harsh with want. "The one thing I never even had a chance to have, thanks to you lot?" He ignored Al's indignant huff. "I want her. I want it all. I'll kill for it."
Al huffed again. "You've killed for no reason at all, like the rest of us. There's no sacrifice in that. What will you give up?"
Ash bristled. "What the hell haven't I given up already? Legally she owns everything- I have nothing left!"
Al resisted the urge to smack his former student upside the head again. "I'm talking heart and soul, you idiot. Fortunately for you, such a bond doesn't require brains." Ash flushed again as Al continued quietly, "It does require patience. And trust. Two commodities that you've always been short on, love. And it never ends happily- always in death or heartbreak. Usually death."
It did. If it didn't end in a mutual agreement to part, it usually ended in the abrupt, fiery death of the male, accidental or deliberate. It had always been thus. Ultimately, there was only so much control a woman had over her powers, because they lacked the mental abilities of the males. The females could hold and channel the power to create entire worlds, but it was the males with the mental agility and fortitude to pull those worlds into reality. And living long enough, even with a powerful familiar to buffer the lines and a chi that could hold oceans of energy, using the lines eventually took its toll. Females tended to slip slowly into insanity, and there was nothing even the most attentive mate could do to stop it once the process had begun. It was the duty of a mate to protect her, and ultimately to end her life when she became a danger- lest she grow too powerful to control. Like Newt, who had, against all the odds, somehow survived without a mate to anchor her. Or Ku'Sox, who had been gifted with the abilities of both genders—which only tipped him into madness that much more quickly.
It always ended in heartbreak. Even for beings such as they, there was no forever. They just had a longer time to contemplate their eventual end. Despite this, demons had always sought out mates. It was instinct, a desire for completion, and the only way to bear healthy children. Love did not have to be part of the bond, though it often was. Trust, however, was vital.
"It wasn't stopping you before," Ash pointed out.
"No," Al replied, staring at the olive tree. Most males, bonded so long, didn't last long after the death of their mate. He himself wasn't certain how he'd managed to hang on for long. "It shouldn't stop you, either."
They were silent, contemplating their long, long past, and uncertain future. "And you?" Ash asked. "Algaliarept…whatever happens, you have to let me go."
"Not yet," Al replied, tightening his embrace. "Not yet. Once more?"
Ash growled as Al's hand wandered, slipping under his waistband for an intimate caress before a rush of ley line energy brought Ash fully erect. Ash felt nearly irresistible heat racing through him even as he fought his anger, and his growing temptation. "No."
"Please," Al breathed, mouth caressing Ash's neck in an intimate kiss. The line grew heady and hot between them, need pulsing in Ash's veins with every heartbeat. "One last time?" Al's lure was siren-strong, tinged with the promise of familiar, attainable bliss. His fingers tightened involuntarily in his former lover's hair, his body remembering ever caress, every stroke, every thrust they had shared over the years. With a start, he realized that Al had breached his mind's defenses, so subtly he hadn't even detected the invasion. Anger replaced the fire of passion.
"Enough!" Ash grabbed Al's wrists, stopping the ley line play. "It's a lie, Algaliarept. It's a false comfort, and I'm not looking forward to explaining all this shit to Evie as it is."
"She's not worthy of you. You know that."
It was Al's jealousy talking, Ash knew that. But suddenly he'd had it with Al's manipulation, the centuries of hurt and lies, between the infrequent bouts of intimacy. Suddenly disgusted with himself more than with Al, he pushed the other demon away. When Al resisted, Ash unsheathed his claws and pressed them against the older demon's throat. "Don't fuck with me, Al," he warned.
Snarling, Al released him and stepped aside, eyes slitted with fury and, under the fury, bafflement and an old, old hurt. He growled a curse under his breath, and Ash caught Evie's name.
Quick as a flash, Ash slashed at him, catching Al's upper arm and shredding the velvet and linen as if it were paper. A thin line of blood seeped from a single cut. Al stared at the blood for a moment in shock, then stared at Ash in growing horror. "You son of a bitch," he murmured, all the fight draining from him. Ash had just poisoned him. He could stop some of the more unpleasant side effects, but it didn't matter; Ash had just killed their bond. Al was sensitized. All the trust and forgiveness in the world wouldn't change the fact that Ash had just severed all future physical ties between them, because the next dose, even accidental, would be fatal.
Ash couldn't hide the unsteadiness in his voice. "We'll come by later and annul the familiar bond, and come to a new arrangement regarding whatever bargain you had with Yvette. I'll say this once, Algaliarept: fuck with us again, and I will have your head. Or better yet, I'll let Evie have your head."
Al stared at him, his furious expression becoming slightly dazed as the venom began to take hold. Ash fought his growing queasiness at the finality of the action, telling himself that it had been necessary—and it had been, given the self-destructive patterns they'd been locked into for so many millennia—but it was still the most difficult thing he'd ever done. It couldn't be any other way. They needed to move on.
"How do you know I won't take this to Newt?" Al growled, his hand rubbing at the wound. It was a small scratch, barely more than an inch long, but it didn't matter. The damage was soul-deep.
Ash lifted his chin, quelling the shaking of his insides. "We've always had the power to destroy each other. We nearly have, dozens of times. Is that what you want?"
Al looked away, shoulders slumping. "No."
"We have to move on. It's done. Let it go, Al. For Rachel's sake, if not yours or mine." He cleared his throat, guilt warring with relief and regret all mingled together. It had to be done, he reminded himself again. Theirs had never been a relationship of equals. It had to be done. I feel like shit, but it had to be done. "I'm…sorry."
Ash turned to leave, but paused when Al said, "Damned right, you'll be sorry." Ash turned, then twisted away with preternatural speed, but it was too late. Al lashed out at him, catching him in the shoulder with a double line of fire. Al's venom shot through him, heady and exhilarating and promising a very, very bad evening indeed. Ash just gaped, clapping a hand to his wound as he stumbled back. Al's eyes were looking glazed, but serene. "As you wish, my Kavim," he said, as Ash shook his head and tried to clear it. "We are quits. Done and done. Don't let the door hit you on the ass, et cetera, et cetera."
Ash forced a chuckle he didn't feel. Lovely. And now he'd not only have to play nice with some Coven witch, but he'd have a devil of a time explaining why he would be feverish and convulsing and whatever the fuck else the poison would do to him. Worse, she was going to be gallivanting off in reality and now he wouldn't be able to protect her. Oh, this was not good, and he had no curses left for dealing with it. "Asshole," he growled, though his guilt was gone. He hadn't given Al nearly the dose Al had laid on him.
"The best," Al agreed, before vanishing into a cloud of mist.
"Fuck," Ash said, staring at the olive tree, behind where Al had been standing, now thoroughly disgusted with everyone and everything. He felt his body's defenses already rising against the blissful sensations, and wondered again at the utter unfairness of it all, male demon nature in particular. Females could bond with each other, why couldn't males?
He sent out a mental call to Evie. Surely it had to be sunset by now. He had to get her back to the Ever After, preferably stirring him up some relief, before he collapsed. How long did he have? An hour? Three? Everything had just gone to hell in a handbasket. He just hoped the Coven witch was easily intimidated…
