Ana’s father rose from the ground and she watched as the bullet slowly slid out of his eye, letting out a disgusting squelch sound before it fell to the ground. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and his eye was back to being it’s dark amethyst color. There was still a splatter of blood on his face from the gunshot, but otherwise his face looked perfectly normal.
Marchosias calmly walked over to her and ripped the gun out of her hands. He dropped it to the ground and repeatedly stomped on it with his foot. Ana cried out, watching as the revolver her dad gave her was smashed to pieces in front of her eyes. She had another one, of course, but they were a set. She left it’s twin back at home, that was now on fire and surrounded by cult-ish magicians.
This is the best outcome, she told herself. Beau and Judas could’ve been killed, but now they’re far away from here. Instead, my gun is being destroyed. It’s better than watching Beau’s face being burned…again.
Marchosias suddenly stopped and leaned in close to her, grabbing her arm so she didn’t move back. “Can’t you ever listen for once?! Your entire life has been about making mistakes and somehow you still find a way make it even worse!”
Ana bit her tongue to stop herself from yelling back. She knew that’s what he wanted; her to match his energy so he had an excuse to punish her more. She would not make it so easy for him. She took a deep breath before speaking.
“I won’t be used by you,” She murmured, “Just so you can finish something you were meant to do six years ago. You won’t use me to clean up your mistakes and kill off the remaining Motloes. I won’t have a hand in that, and I won’t be a pawn in your schemes. I am done being used by people who don’t care about me, do you understand?”
He tilted his head, his fingers pressing into her arm. They didn’t hurt, but she couldn’t pull away if she tried. “I am your father. You will do as I say. If I tell you to stand back as I finish off those worthless cambions, then you will listen. I am the only thing that is keeping you safe from those magicians sifting through the burning remains of your home.”
“You were never my father!” She exclaimed, his sudden proclamation making her feel angry. “I had a dad, and he was the man who raised me and nurtured me. He taught me all the things I know, and made sure that I felt loved and cared for. What have you given me that he hasn’t? Cold words and lectures? A grimoire that has done nothing to help me? My dad died years ago. You don’t have the right to call yourself my father. You are nobody.”
He’s silent. Ana hates that. She finally yelled at him, and he didn’t respond like she thought he would. Instead, he let go of her arm and backed away from her.
“You have disobeyed me. You will not go unpunished.”
She slowly shook her head, hands at her sides and head lowered to the ground. “I don’t need you anymore. Don’t come to me, don’t talk to me, don’t ask me to do anything. You are not my father, and you are not my protector.”
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He raised his head and lifted his arm to point back to the direction of her house. “Fine then. If you don’t need me to survive, then you should have no problem with the magicians who are planning to investigate this area. Magical disturbances don’t go unnoticed, you should know that.”
She let out a cackle of laughter, not taking her eyes off of him. “You’re not…you’re not complaining. Which could only mean you’re still going to use me to find their mom. You’re typical, you know that?”
He lowered his arm and turned around, but stilled. “There will be consequences to your actions. Don’t forget that.”
He vanished, and Ana swallowed in fear. Beau’s reminder repeated in her head, that he couldn’t harm her but he could still harm others close to her. He saw Logan when she hung out with Ana a week prior, and she hoped he didn’t remember her.
Unfortunately, that was a problem for later. For now, she had to leave and figure out what her plans were. As she walked further into the woods, she thought about what to do. Her house was burning along with everything in it, she didn’t have anything except for her phone and a piece of chalk she kept for emergencies, and no money. The Creed of Solomon was now chasing after her, most likely for the death of Deacon. The appearance of Beau had made her realize she knew nothing of the demonic world, and that she had been living for the past twenty-two years with her head in the sand. If she had any hopes of surviving…then she had to ask for his help. But to do that, they needed to complete their deal. Technically speaking, Beau had done his part of the deal, although Ana believed it had only raised more questions than answers. Her father had known about the Motloes since before the incident, so why did he wait until she was almost close to death to kill them? Why hide the truth in the first place? None of it made sense.
It seemed one of the few choices she had was to recover her memories. No more listening to other people recant the tale, she could no longer trust anybody to tell her truthfully what happened. Beau was was more masterful when it came to mageia, and Ana was sure he would know how to break the spell that was blocking her memories.
A new deal offer then. Protection and knowledge, in exchange for his mother’s whereabouts. She wasn’t sure if Beau would still be willing to complete the deal with her, but he seemed to be an honorable man, the whole I-planned-to-kill-you-in-that-basement thing aside. He once said that he would still respond if she tried to summon him, and she hoped he would keep his promise.
She reached a lazy river with a low, flat cliff hanging over it. She climbed up to the top and sat down under the darkening sky. She pulled out the piece of chalk and drew a basic sigil for summoning demons. She didn’t need to use it, but she hoped the sigil would help coax Beau’s mageia out of her core. That, too, would also have to be dealt with. The thought that she had an important piece of magic within her that belonged to somebody else was…strange.
She sighed and pocketed the piece of chalk after she finished drawing the sigil. She crossed her legs and placed her hands on her knees, palms facing the air. She didn’t have the scent capsules used during the training session some time ago, but she didn’t need them. Imagining the scent was almost as good as actually smelling it, so that’s what she did. Sandalwood and…fresh snow, was it? Woody and crisp at the same time. Woody and crisp.
Mageia pooled in her hands and spilled from in between her fingers, given no direction or spell to be used in. Could Beau feel this? She hoped he could. She didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know any other spells she could use that would get his attention. She slowly and carefully cupped her hands together, watching as the dark, heavy, amber mist pooled to the middle of her fingers and slowly poured onto the sigil before her. It covered the chalk-drawn marking before fading away into the air once it reached the edge of the cliff. She felt calm as she watched the serene, amber mist. All of her fear and anger from the past few days were melting away as she sat there, the lazy river flowing in front of her and the sky slowly brightening with stars. She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out to summon more of the strange mageia from her core.
She thought of Beau, his dark eyes and dark hair, his soft but ruined hands, and his kind heart. She didn’t know where Beau had gone after running away with Judas, but she needed him. She needed his protection from the Creed of Solomon, and his knowledge about the demonic world she had fought so hard to stay away from.
“Beau…our deal isn’t done.”
END OF BOOK ONE.