The Bound Witch by Ivy Asher
20
“Iwhat?” I snap, completely taken aback by Alora’s declaration.
“It’s okay, Lennox, there’s no need to panic, just calm down and we’ll figure this out,” Rogan tells me softly, and I glare at him.
“Name one time telling someone to calm down actually worked. Just one,” I challenge, and Rogan thinks for a minute and then shrugs. “Fine, freak out all you want,” he says instead, and if I wasn’t in the process of doing just that, I might have laughed.
“You have demon markers in your blood,” Alora repeats as though I’m dense. “I can see they aren’t the foundation to your power, which shows me that it’s not genetically inherited. I’ve never seen it before, but at some point, it looks as though demon magic was bonded to your own.”
“H-how...how do you know?” I stammer, not sure where to even begin trying to process what she’s saying.
“These two branches are hawthorn and hazel,” Dave starts, pointing to the twisted twigs now in the center of my blood tornado. “These represent the foundation of all magic, which was originally bestowed upon us by the Fae. With mancer magic, these branches always stay on the bottom of the bowl. Demon magic will wrap around the branches, and mixed magic...will do this,” he tells me, gesturing to the bowl.
I stare at the swirling contents, my mind feeling like it’s doing the exact same thing in my head.
Demon markers in my blood?
Demon magic bonded to mine.
How the fuck?
And then it hits me.
Jamie’s demonic chant fills my mind as she used magic that wasn’t her own to try and steal power from the other Osteomancers. I can suddenly feel the painful jolt of magic as it transferred from the dead witch on Jamie’s altar...to me.
A sinking feeling crawls into my stomach, and for the first time since I woke up to find the tether broken, I’m glad Rogan can’t feel what I’m feeling. Desolation and anger war in my chest, and I don’t know if I want to scream or cry.
“That fucking, demon cock sucking, trifling, thirsty, magic whore!” I snarl, and the room goes quiet.
Crap. I did not mean to say that out loud.
Rogan looks over at me, his eyes filled with devastation as he reads my face. He knows what happened in that church. I thankfully never had to tell him, but I know Elon provided him with the graphic details. He takes one look at me, and I see the moment he realizes what happened, and then I also see the moment that he blames himself for it.
Rogan shoots out of his chair and swipes the tray of cookies and other tea fixings off the table. It goes shattering against the window, cracking the pane with a loud boom. Alora, Dave, and Harmony all shoot to their feet, concern and shock written all over each of their faces.
So much for being calm.
Elon, Prek, Tad, and Cohen come running into the kitchen like we’re under attack. They look from Rogan to the Soul Witches to me still sitting in the chair, not sure what to do, and unease and aggression settles thickly in the air.
“What happened?” Elon demands, and Tad moves closer to me.
“What fucking happened is that my selfish bullshit let that human stain, Jamie, fuck with Lennox’s magic,” Rogan snarls, and the others’ faces blanch.
“What?” Tad snaps, turning to me as though he knows Rogan is too lost in his guilt and anger to get details from.
I blow out a deep breath, suddenly feeling less out of control now that Rogan is feral enough for both of us. “It seems when Jamie was using her demon’s magic to try and steal power from the other Osteomancers, either she or it somehow fused demon magic with that power and…” I trail off, feeling weird saying it out loud.
“And then that magic transferred to you because you were the source,” Elon finishes, and my eyes flick to him, and I nod in confirmation.
“Fuck,” Cohen exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze looking far more distressed than I thought it would, given our heated exchange earlier.
“But what does that mean?” Tad demands, looking from me to Rogan.
Rogan doesn’t say anything but looks over at Alora and her mates. All eyes in the room shift to the three Soul Witches too, and Dave steps forward, his hands raised as though he’s trying to calm a volatile and dangerous situation. The look on Rogan’s face tells me Dave has the right idea.
“Obviously, no one wants to have their magic altered in such a violating and traumatic way,” he starts, and I flinch, unable to help myself, because he’s not wrong.
Rogan runs his hands through his hair, and I want to reach out and offer him some comfort, but I’m not positive my legs will work right now.
“With that said, however, these changes do not have to be a bad thing. We’ll need to do more research before we have exact answers, but ultimately magic is magic. We all have what the Fae bestowed on our ancestors, just in varying branches and dilutions. Right now, all we can tell is that Lennox’s magic is closer to that of the Original Source before the magic was broken up into separate lines for safekeeping. Some of that will be because there are only two Osteomancers left in the world, and the magic of that line is now extremely condensed. The other part of that will be because demon magic in its nature is wilder and harder to control. It’s more reminiscent of Fae magic at its purest, and therefore Lennox’s power will have similar qualities or markers,” Dave explains.
His words seem to be the drop of calm everyone needs, but I don’t feel any better. Is this why my magic has been acting weird? Is this why I can now do things I couldn’t before? Is this the reason why I connect with my magic differently and feel more than just bones and blood when I’m wielding it?
I think back to what happened right before Marx was killed. How it felt like my magic was suddenly this wild thing and I barely had a hold of it. Dave’s words describe exactly how it felt, unruly, turbulent, and so fucking strong.
Without saying a word, Elon moves to the other side of the table and starts to clean up the shattered tea set and tray.
“I’ll go get some plywood for the window,” Cohen announces, and Prek declares that he’ll go with him.
Tad looks at me as though he’s reading my thoughts on my forehead. I meet his eyes, and he gives me his best well, shit look, and I crack a small smile.
Well, shit is exactly right.
Some of the tension bleeds out of me, and Tad strides over and pulls me into a big hug. I soak up his calm affection and smile at him after he kisses the top of my head and pulls away. My smile doesn’t reach my eyes though, and Tad gives me a look that says meet me for wine on the bathroom floor later.
“I just want to check one thing before we leave to go research what we’ve learned here today,” Alora announces, and then she reaches for the glass container that has Rogan’s blood in it and drops it into the bowl.
I’m not sure what they’re looking for, but each of them stares down intensely, clearly waiting for something pivotal to happen. I look down and see that my blood is darker than Rogan’s. My little tornado is still going strong, and Rogan’s blood seems to swim around it as though contemplating its reaction to my blood’s volatile display. All at once, Rogan’s blood zips toward mine as though it were simply looking for the perfect opening, and then the two essences seem to dance with each other, spinning and chasing, and winding round one another until the darker blood and the lighter blood dissolve into one another and simply become one.
I look up to find colossal grins on each of the Soul Witches’ faces. Alora looks up at me, her eyes filled with so much joy and affection.
“You two are a beautiful match. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Tears fill her eyes, and she looks over to her wife and then her husband. They all reach for each other’s hands and smile lovingly at one another before turning back to me and Rogan. “We know a thing or two about tethers and bonds, and love and matches. So trust us when we say, your bond is one for the ages.”
I look at Rogan, and he turns to me. I’m floored by the look I see in his eyes, his moss-green gaze telling me loud and clear that he already knew that. Worry falls to the background as I let Alora and her mates’ words sink in. A small smile creeps across my lips, and I can’t deny, one for the ages feels about right.
Alora and the others start to pack up, and a tinge of panic moves through me. Is that it? P.S. you have demon magic, but you and your boyfriend make a cute couple, so you should be good?
“But how do we fix it?” I hurry to ask, worried they’re going to disappear before Rogan and I get the answer to the question that brought them here in the first place. “How do we repair the tether?”
Harmony grins and smooths down the front of her black V-neck sweater. “You just re-tether yourselves. It’s good to do it annually anyway; we’ve always done it on our anniversary,” she tells us before giving Alora and Dave a sweet smile.
“It’s best if you’re as connected as you can be when you recite the incantation, both emotionally and physically, if you catch my meaning,” Alora adds, and it takes me a second.
Sex?
Did Rogan’s aunt just tell us to be having sex when we try to reawaken the tether?
Alora waggles her eyebrows at me, making certain we’re on the same page, and I try so damn hard not to blush.
Oh god, never let her do that again.
“We just re-tether ourselves? That’s it?” Rogan confirms as though he too didn’t think it would be that easy.
“That’s it, just recite the incantation with purpose and commitment to it, and you’ll be all set,” his aunt chirps, placing the last of the vials in her bag.
She reaches out for Rogan’s arm, and he offers it to her and escorts her back to the front door.
“Bye, Elon, it was lovely to see you again. We’re sorry we can’t stay longer, but given the circumstances, it’s best to get as much information as we can as quickly as we can about the bonded demon magic and what Lennox can expect to deal with down the road,” Alora calls over her shoulder.
Elon sets his dust pan and hand broom down and walks over to us to disperse hugs and kisses. “Well, see you soon, I’m sure,” he reassures them, and they all nod and move to head out.
Dave offers me his arm, and I take it awkwardly. Gradually we make our way to the entryway, and Dave is silent until we’ve almost reached the door. Slowly he leans toward me. “For the record, he does look at you with all the overwhelming love and respect and affection that I look at my wife with. Oh, and Ali Wong is hilarious, I wouldn’t have minded the extra entertainment.”
His smile is wide and knowing as he straightens up, pats my hand once, and then unfolds his arm from mine and moves to his wife and her wife. It takes me a moment to realize what he said, but shock and excitement rocket through me when I do.
Holy shit. I was right. Dave can read minds.
I easily recall my plan to try and catch him reacting to my thoughts on Ali Wong’s jokes. But it takes me a minute to figure out what he meant by the first thing he told me. I watch the Soul Witches hug Rogan and wave goodbye to me. As they file out the front door, it suddenly dawns on me. When I first met them, Dave escorted Rogan and me into the gorgeous room with the night sky and constellations painted all over. I remember watching the way Dave looked at Alora and wishing I had someone who would look at me with such raw devotion and pure love. My eyes sting as I make the connection, and Dave shoots me a wink over his shoulder before the door is shut, and Rogan turns around to take me in.
And just like Dave said, it’s there.
Despite my newfound demon blood or the crazy magic that’s currently spinning in my veins. Regardless of how heinous my morning breath can be or my unhealthy addiction to coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches. My cuddle slut ways when I’m tired and the fact that I’m a nighttime farter don’t matter one little bit. Because I can see it as plain as day in Rogan’s gaze, just like I could in Dave’s when he looked at Alora.
Rogan loves the ever-loving shit out of me, and don’t I just love the ever-loving shit out of him right back.
His face is concerned, but it banks with heat as he closes the distance in two strides. I’m up and over his shoulder in less time than it takes me to squeal, and then Rogan is marching through the living room, past the kitchen, up the stairs, and into our room. He throws me on the bed like the caveman he is, and all I can say is that I am here for it.
He reaches behind him and with one hand, whips his sweater over his head in that way hot guys know how to do, and I swear I moan just from that action alone. His smile turns predatory, and suddenly my mind is pumping the brakes...hard. Rogan isn’t just feeling feisty and in need of some one-on-one time with my vagina. He’s ready to snap that tether back in place like it’s no big deal. If I hadn’t just found out that my magic has demon magic bonded to it, I would be all for it, but now I’m not so certain.
Rogan reaches for my leg and pulls off first one thick sock and then the other.
Damn, why is that so hot?
And then he grabs my leggings and pulls them off my legs.
“Rogan, wait,” I pant as I scramble back on the bed to try and get away from him. He leaps for me like he’s fucking Tarzan or something, and I scream way too excitedly for someone who’s trying to get him to calm down and listen.
He wraps his big arms around my waist and pulls me to him, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss so searing my ancestors’ toes would curl. I kiss him back just as fiercely, because how can I not, but when his hand skims under his sweater that I’m wearing to cup my breast, reality crashes down on me, and I know we need to talk first.
“Rogan, hold up, we need to think about this,” I tell him, moaning and almost changing my mind when he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
I shake my head, trying to clear it of the barrage of lusty thoughts that just avalanched through me, and slap his hand away. “Seriously, the demon magic thing is huge, and we need to talk about that before we just jump back into a tether like it’s no big deal,” I tell him breathily, putting space between us so he can’t distract me with, well, pretty much everything about him, because yum.
“It’s not a big deal. I love you, you love me, the tether felt right between us, and I know you want it back just as badly as I do,” he tells me, and the matter-of-fact declarations melt my heart a little.
“I do love you, which is why I want us to really think about what we’re doing instead of jumping in with both feet and potentially fucking something up.”
“Fucking what up?” Rogan grumbles, offended.
“Oh, I don’t know, like your magic for starters. Right now, mine is the only one acting all crazy, but if we jump back into a tether, mine is going to affect yours too. We don’t even know what the long-term ramifications are of what Jamie did. Shouldn’t we wait and get more information from your aunt and maybe a few other trusted sources before we make a decision this big?” I ask him sincerely.
“No,” he counters simply. “I don’t care what the long-term ramifications are. Our tether worked when you woke up the first time, and your magic didn’t fuck with mine then. What makes you think it’s going to start doing something crazy now? In fact, Dave said that it was more powerful and potent, not that it was dangerous, so I don’t see the hesitation here,” Rogan argues, and I roll my eyes.
“You are purposefully trying to be obtuse, Rogan Kendrick,” I accuse. “I’m not saying the tether is off the table, I’m just saying maybe we should be sure that everything is in working order before you do something that one day you could regret.”
“I am sure,” he growls back, but it’s the sexy kind, not the scary kind, and I try not to let him see how it affects me. “And when it comes to you, there’s no such thing as regrets. Now come here so I can kiss you until you’re dripping, and then bend you over and fuck you until you can’t see straight, and then we can make love to one another while we tether our souls together again the right way, the way we should have done the first time,” he purrs, and I huff out a sigh.
Fuck. Why does he have to make this so damn hard?
My foot starts to heat, and I roll my eyes at him. “Cut it out, I don’t have a foot fetish, so you’re barking up the wrong tree,” I tell him as I try to figure out how to make him stop and think about what he’s doing.
“Good to know,” he grumbles dismissively. “Tell me what you do like then so I can start there, because I’m done arguing. I love you. I don’t care what’s mixed in your magic. I wouldn’t even care if yours suddenly consumed mine and left me powerless. I love you, that means every single part of you. I know we’ll figure this all out together, but I miss feeling you inside of my soul. I can’t help feeling like a piece of me is missing, and I want it back, Lennox. I want you back right where you’re always meant to stay,” he pleads with me, his hand pressed against his heart as his eyes are filled with heat and beseeching.
My foot grows even hotter, distracting me from his incredible heartfelt words. “Seriously, Rogan, stop it. Messing with my blood isn’t going to win you any favors. I hear what you’re saying, and I want it too. I miss you too, I just want to make sure you know what you could be getting into before we jump in feetfirst again,” I plead with him.
“Lennox, I’m all in, feet or otherwise,” he counters, but just then the heat from my foot shoots up into my leg.
Out of nowhere, I feel it everywhere. My eyes widen with shock when I realize I’ve made a mistake. It wasn’t Rogan messing with my blood.
It was the demon mark summoning me.
“Fuck,” I gasp when the tugging sensation starts in my stomach. “Don’t freak out,” I hurriedly tell Rogan as I feel the magical hook sink into me and start to pull me away. “I love you, I’ll be right back!” I shout at him as I go, but all I hear is a furious roar.
Shit, please let me be right back.