Oof. (That seems to be my favorite word so far this year.) I've heard the first 3 to 5 chapters are the hardest to write, and damn son, I don't disagree. Fun fact, this chapter marks the first in my fic career (lol) to feature TWO major-player OCs. Enjoy!
That's the price you pay
Leave behind your heart and cast away
Just another product of today
Rather be the hunter than the prey
Imagine Dragons, "Natural"
###
The house was just as I left it the night before. The fire had burned down and the sunlight through the windows rendered the lights I had left on useless, and looking around it was easy to believe last night never happened. Even the glass of wine he left sitting on the coffee table could have been mine...
I felt warm and unsettled. Was that still the spell? Clearing my throat, I called out, "Katie? Katie?" I stepped out of the living room and stood at the foot of the stairs, letting my voice echo. "Hecate!"
There was silence, but a motion in my periphery made me turn my head in time to see a streak of black fur hurry down the stairs and rush toward me. A sleek, lithe cat, tail aloft and eyes glowing, winding herself around my ankles and purring while a soft voice sounded in my head. I called for you all night! I was worried sick!
"I'm sorry," I replied. "I had no idea, I never heard you."
Do you know where you were?
"Hell? Maybe?"
She yowled loudly in distress. What happened?
"That's a long story." I cast a look at the grandfather clock that stood near the front door. Crowley only gave me an hour... Rather than tell her everything, I shared my memory of what happened after he took me away; Hecate chirped and circled me again before pressing her foot to my leg. Show me your hand.
I held out my palm, the cut still hot with a glow like dying embers, and she hissed before growling in her throat, her ears folding back and the hair along her spine standing up.
"What is it?" I asked.
She kept growling. Dark magic.
"What?"
Dark. Bad. Evil.
"Katie, calm down-"
No! She tricked us!
"I've got a chance, because of her."
But at what cost? She paced back and forth, tail swishing in agitation. There had to be another way, if we only thought it through...
"It's done, Kate. Crowley and I are bound and I'm the Queen of Hell, thanks to Rowena."
Oh, dearest... She rubbed her head against my leg and looked up at me, mewing softly. How are you feeling?
I heaved a sigh and started back toward the living room. I doubted I would recover the strength it had taken to cast that spell anytime soon; I was lightheaded, I still felt a little nauseous, and the more time passed, the more aware I was of that sense of him. Nothing specific, but present. And even apart from the magic, my night with Crowley was intense even for me. I faced down a hellhound, for God's sake! No scene before or since would ever hold a candle to that. And if other scenes left me feeling fragile and vulnerable, this one was a force to be reckoned with.
Hecate didn't ask again, following me into the living room, and when I sat down on the couch, she sat beside me in her human form. In appearance, she looked at least a decade older than me, with a soft, caring warmth about her that never once hinted at the depths of loyalty and protectiveness in her. Hers was an ordinary face, but it was the face I loved most in the entire world. But for her golden eyes, you would never know she wasn't human.
Witch-familiar bonds are rare, according to Rowena, and I had only met one other witch with a familiar. Hecate would never tell me about her life before, but she found me about a year after I gained my powers and never left me since. If that binding spell created a connection similar to soulmates, then Katie was my soulmate. I never felt like half of myself without her, but with her I was more. She made my best even better, and my worst more bearable. Her presence kept me centered and the thought of her grounded me when nothing else could. Far from being my servant, she was my guardian, my best friend, my guiding light.
Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me and held me to her, rocking gently back and forth and humming softly. I listened until I recognized the song, then joined her, closing my eyes and falling into the safety and comfort she offered.
Are you hurt? she asked silently, still humming.
A lot less than I expected, I answered, humming with her.
And how are you feeling?
I took stock of myself. I had been so overcome with so many hormones the last several hours it was a wonder I hadn't crashed already from the adrenaline and the endorphins. Forget about the spell I cast. And the emotional toll, the mental taxation, the literal torture after the play, the confusion of my new position... I sighed mid-melody. I just want to sleep.
What else do you need?
I could feel myself sinking, a heavy, weary sadness descending onto me like a physical weight. I played dangerously, always searching for even higher highs, and once the rush was over I paid for every flight with a fall. Hecate was there to soften the landing every time, whether it was subdrop, spell fallout, or a miscalculated risk. Her compassion, care, and empathy could probably put Humpty Dumpty together again, I would bet on it. I just wanted to sit with her arms around me, her voice soothing and her touch gentle, lending her strength and love until I felt like myself again...
"He gave me an hour," I said out loud.
She stopped humming abruptly, her hand coming up to stroke my hair. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"I had to beg to come to you," I explained, "and he gave me one hour before I have to go back."
"I'm coming with you."
"I can't let you do that, Kate."
"You seem to think we're discussing it, missy."
"We're not, because you're not going."
"Like fun I'm not."
"Hecate, it's Hell! How do you think I can let you stay there, of all places-"
"Well, not quite there, darlin', but close enough, I'll give ye that."
Hecate and I both looked up at the voice, the heavy accent and the sing-song timber identifying the speaker before we laid eyes on her. Floor-length dress in a shade of turquoise that complemented her fine complexion and red hair swept into a carefully careless updo, Rowena was always a model of elegance, and the smile she gave as she walked closer to me and my familiar was perfectly indulgent. "Congratulations, dear!" she said. "I dinna think ye'd have the bollocks to go through wi' it, but I hoped ye'd stay the course."
"And look what it's gotten her!" Hecate snapped, catching hold of my wrist and turning my hand for Rowena to see. "What sort of magic is this, and how could you let her do something so dangerous?"
Rowena's eyebrows shot upward as she seated herself across from us. "Whatever do ye mean? The spell is powerful, but dangerous? Hardly."
"Bullshit!"
"Someone tell me what's going on," I insisted, feeling uneasy. It was like Hecate to be fierce when she thought something threatened me, but she never swore...
"Something's not right about this," she said, still fixated on the cut. "I can feel it, there's a darkness to it-"
"Well, ye can expect that when ye bind yerself to a demon, then, can't ye? I've never tried it, myself-"
"So you used her as a guinea pig? Rowena, she trusted you!"
"I'm still here!" I reminded both of them. "What did this spell do to me?"
Rowena heaved an aggrieved sigh. "If I had to guess-"
"You do," Hecate nearly growled.
"-then I would say it's the demon blood. Now there's power for ye, darlin', and I expect ye'll see traces of it, especially at the point of binding-"
"What traces?" I asked.
"How should I know?" she replied. "It's bloody risky combining yer own magic with a demon's, ye ken, there's no telling what will happen."
"And you let her!" Hecate burst out.
"Oh, and would ye rather she be serving an eternal stint in Hell, then?" Rowena snapped, and I felt a warning rustle in the air. "Yer mistress is alive to tell the tale, kitten, and I'd think ye'd show some bloody thanks for it!"
I reached up and rested a hand on Hecate's shoulder. Let it go, Kate.
She stiffened at my side, then grudgingly relaxed. Yes, Mistress.
Turning back to Rowena, I asked, "What did you mean, not quite Hell?"
"Exactly what I said," she answered, disregarding Hecate. "Not quite. Did ye think ye actually went to Hell? Please, darlin'."
"Well, all right, then, where did-"
"Likely to his 'palace.'" She put air quotes around the word and layered an extra level of sarcasm on top for good measure. "An abandoned asylum, if ye listen to the rumors-"
Does this bloodline listen to anything else? Hecate scoffed.
"-but either way, he stays topside a great deal of the time. Lucky for you, eh? So," she flashed a knowing smile, "how did it go?"
I stared at her in momentary disbelief before I answered, "He took me to his...palace, I guess, to discuss terms, then he tortured me and I liked it, then he tortured me again and neither of us liked it."
"Details?"
"Are you kidding me, I was having sex with your son-"
"The spell, ye simple tart," she clarified. "It worked, I take it? Ye followed my instructions to the letter?"
An incantation chanted over a potion that had been excessively difficult to brew, then outright disgusting to drink, and I felt it in my bloodstream like too much alcohol as soon as I swallowed it, washing it down with wine. Rowena assured me many times, it was perfectly safe if unsettling, and would take hold the instant my potion-tainted blood mingled with Crowley's.
Like a disease, Hecate observed. Binding a demon, using demon blood... This is my fault, I should have been more clever-
"What do ye feel?" Rowena asked.
"Exhausted," I replied, "though that feels like the cost of the magic itself."
"Aye, of course."
"And..." I flexed my hand in discomfort. "It's hard to describe... Have you ever used the spell on someone with magic of their own? Crowley's affinity is fire, and I can't imagine what else this is." I showed her my hand in demonstration, and she took it in hers, examining the cut that continued to burn, though the flicker was only noticeable after I looked for it. Fire. We were bound, sharing pain, anger, sickness, and who knew what else; it seemed conceivable that our different magics left a mark. His on me, and, recalling the watery shimmer I saw on his hand, mine on him.
Hecate, I told her, maybe you were right, and I was playing with things I didn't understand...
You think?
she asked.
"Anything else?" Rowena inquired, conjuring a cup of tea and looking like she was settling in for gossip.
"Yeah. I could feel whatever he was feeling, and he felt whatever I did. He-he tortured me, and he collapsed. Like he was in as much pain as I was. I felt sick from the spell, and he said he was queasy. And when he was angry..." I shuddered at the memory of that violent, destructive impulse taking over me, stripping me of empathy and mercy with only a fragile thread tethering me to my humanity. I didn't feel like talking about that.
Hecate reached between us and gave my other hand a reassuring squeeze.
"It worked exactly as it should, then," Rowena told me. "Physical sensation, strong emotion, one will reflect it back to the other as long as the spell holds."
"Which is?"
"It's grounded in yer living blood, dear. What do you think?"
Until either of you dies, then, Hecate decided. How comforting.
"The magic, now," she went on, "that's in the blood as well, so I'd expect evidence of each other's in those cuts. Did ye notice anything along those lines?"
"I don't think we'll be able to use it against each other," I answered, "at least not the way we mean to. We tried, but...it was like we cancelled each other out, and-"
Don't say anything about what you saw, Hecate warned me.
I paused, taken aback. Why not?
Did you realize what that was? Those were all memories, dear one. Everything Crowley has seen and done. I don't know if that's part of the spell or if your magics caused another fluke, but if Rowena doesn't know already, I don't think she should.
Why is that?
Her tone was grim. We need something to give us an advantage.
"And what?" Rowena prompted, looking annoyed at being excluded from the conversation.
"I...can't really put my finger on it..." I said. "It was like...like we were locked together, like a closed circuit, maybe? And they were running together, but I think I could feel our magic flowing back and forth from one to the other...they started out distinct, but then I couldn't tell them apart after a moment or two."
Rowena sat back, looking thoughtful. "Interesting..."
"How so?" Hecate asked.
To that, Rowena only smiled.
The clock in the hall chimed, and I figured I only had a few minutes left. Hecate shifted beside me and asked, "How are you getting back?"
I shrugged.
"Well, ye're not going back wi'out a few more bullets in the chamber," Rowena announced. "It's into the lion's den ye go, darlin', and the viper's nest soon after, and ye'll need yer wee kitty along, like it or not."
My heart sank. "No, I can't," I protested, "I can't put her in danger like that-"
"You need me, missy," Hecate chided, adding silently, Please, Mistress, you can't keep us apart now, of all times.
"She's bound to a witch bound to a demon," Rowena reminded me, "who offered herself as a spy, no less. Ye'll have to get used to danger, even where she's concerned. I trust ye'll need her more than ye ever did soon enough."
"Besides," Hecate added with a trace of a smile, "I've been looking after myself long before we were together. You don't have to worry about me."
"I will, anyway."
"I could say the same to you."
"And I've something else for ye," Rowena added, setting aside her tea and moving to sit on my other side. She handed me a small, round locket with a thistle engraved on it, and I opened it. "It's empty."
She smiled. "Is it?" She took it back from me and spoke into it. "Oh, Hecate... Can ye hear me, darlin'?"
Hecate and I both gave a jolt of surprise as Rowena's voice echoed in our ears, and in our heads. Her smile widened and she went on, "Keep in touch, girls. Call me by name, and I'll hear ye." She snapped the locket shut. "It's probably best if ye don't let on what this is, aye?"
I nodded, accepting it back from her. She took my hand and looked down at the cut, a tiny flicker from it timed perfectly with the beat of my pulse. "Do ye know what handfasting is?"
"Betrothal of sorts," I answered. "A blood oath to live together for a year and a day, after which the couple either marries or goes separate ways."
"Ye'll be stuck with Fergus a lot longer than that, sad to say," she told me. "Literally, as long as ye both shall live, and if ye don't mind yer wits, that'll be less time than ye think."
I shrugged, trying not to think too hard about it in the moment. "I can't be too surprised. I knew when I made my deal what I was getting into."
She clasped both hands over mine and her smile became one of pity and sad affection. "No, darlin', ye didn't," she replied. "But I think ye'll manage. If anyone could handle this, I'd bet on you."
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again, at a loss for words. The sincerity in her voice took me by surprise, and while her plan had by no means gotten me off the hook, she had at least given me a fighting chance. "I can't...I can't thank you enough for what you've done," I told her.
"Come out on top," she said. "That's all the thanks I'll need." She turned and looked to the doorway into the hall and added, "Look sharp, dearie. Here comes yer cue."
I looked up as the sound of high heels against the hardwood floor reached my ears, just in time to see a woman pause on the threshold. She looked like she belonged in my house more than I did, in her black heels, elegantly fitted dress, and tailored blazer she carried over one arm. Her light brown hair fell in soft waves across her shoulders and she carelessly brushed it back as she assessed the three of us on the couch. She finally settled on me and said, "Your Highness?"
"Me?" I asked, taken aback.
Her green eyes danced with amusement. "You are Crowley's new queen, aren't you?"
"Yes..." Something stirred in my mind, taking shape with agonizing slowness. It felt like deja vu; I was certain she looked familiar, and also certain I had never seen her before.
"Well, then, Your Highness," she repeated, making it sound laughable, "the King wants you back immediately. I'm here to collect you."
"I'm going with her," Hecate insisted, her voice firm and defiant.
"Of course," the woman agreed. "You're the familiar, right? I'm under orders to bring you as well."
"Orders?"
"That's right." She flashed a dazzling smile. "Forgive my manners, Highness, I haven't introduced myself. I'm-"
"Bela." The name sprang to my lips, taking me by surprise as much as anyone else, but I knew I was right. "Bela Talbot."
"Yes," she said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly in puzzlement. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No," I said, brief memories of her floating through my head, memories that didn't belong to me. "No, and I don't know you, either..."
But Crowley did, and that seemed to mean the same thing. Hecate, I asked, how in over our heads are we?
Leave me some love!