I looked at Druzila’s plum-colored face, and then at Typhon. His eyes flickered, barely able to open all the way.
Druzila’s mouth moved, and she finally managed to squeak out three words. “Yes, Lord Watcher.”
It was too late for apologies. I had no use for Grigori in my ranks who couldn’t follow simple orders and wished to satisfy their own base desires instead.
“You’re free. I release you from the ranks of the Grigori. Go, and never come back.” I raised my hand. Flickering shadows grew around my fingers as the tips lengthened into sharp, ethereal claws.
I plunged my incorporeal fist through Druzila’s chest. She gasped, eyes flying wide open as I gripped the little ball of violet light in her heart, but she didn’t dare move without the scythe cutting her throat. “Please, no, Lord Watcher.”
Her whimpers fell on deaf ears. I cupped the light and drew it out, closing my fist around it. When I opened my fingers again, it was gone, merged back into my own body and magic.
Typhon didn’t moan or beg. He squeezed his eyes shut instead, grimacing as I ripped away his ability to Reap.
The magic had been a gift, entirely conditional. Neither of them would be able to communicate with or touch souls any longer.
I flicked my fingers and the scythes flew away as the ties binding them came loose. Both former Grigori fell to the stone floor, their wings folded stiffly behind them, making small noises of pain as feeling slowly came back to their hands and feet.
As soon as Typhon could move, he was up on his feet, hobbling to the doors and freedom.
Druzila threw herself at my feet instead. “Give me a second chance,” she begged. Tears dripped off her cheeks and fell to the floor, leaving dark stains behind. “Don’t take my scythe.”
I glanced up at the scythes, still hanging in midair. “No.”
Shadows swirled around the weapons and they vanished, returning to the place from which they’d been borrowed. Druzila’s face was still red and swollen, contorted with disbelief, as she watched her weapon disappear.
I knelt down and lifted Druzila’s chin, forcing her to look at me. “You put my mate in danger,” I said softly. “It was because of you and your childish taunting that she didn’t have Grigori at her back when she needed them. You’ve brought nothing but shame to us.”
Something dark moved inside me. Her soul was dim and tarnished, but it was still a soul… and it’d been a long time since I’d eaten.
I let the edges of the dark creep out from inside me. My eye sockets felt hollow, the skin on my face like a mask being pushed aside.
The little things that made me me slowly vanished. They were no longer important.
Only the soul was. Nobody would miss hers.
I inhaled, tasting rust and ash and bitterness. It was barely a mouthful, but the monstrous anger dancing inside me was pleased.
Take it. Swallow it whole, cast her into the void. Eat her alive. Make her suffer. Make her hurt forever…
“Azazel!”
I blinked. The taste of rust was still strong in my mouth, but everything came back together in a split-second.
I was about to eat a former Grigori’s soul. To condemn her consciousness to an eternity of torment.
Just because I was angry.
I was really no better than the creature that spawned me. The guilt crashed over me in a tidal wave, and I shoved Druzila away as a little figure stormed into the cathedral, carrying a Spear of Light.
For a wild moment I thought Melisande was upset that I’d come this close to eating Druzila’s soul. Her eyes flashed as she brandished the spear.
“What is the Between, and why have you never told me about it?”
I barely registered Druzila crawling away on her hands and knees, shaking and tearful. “The Between is no place for you,” I said, blinking at Melisande.
Had she even noticed?
She scowled. “You said your library was no place for me, either, and yet I seem to have survived it perfectly fine. Will the Between get us to Irkalla faster, or won’t it?”
I stood up straight, straightening my lapels again. It was an unconscious tic that brought me back to myself, a small motion that was so ordinary, so pretentious and fussy, that it was like gripping a lifeline back to normalcy.
A lifeline away from the dark. Away from what I would be if I let myself go.
“It would.” I looked over her spear, admiring the new form the Sword of Light had taken.