your fault.”
“Witches were the ones to start the wars. We revealed magic to the world.”
I nodded. “Revealing it didn’t change whether or not it existed. It was what happened afterward that screwed us over. But that’s why I went looking for magic, and eventually I found someone that would give it to me.”
“If you were meant to be a sacrifice,” she paused. “How did you end up with a demon’s magic? Every sacrifice used in a summoning dies. They never even get to bargain for power, and of the people that do, half of them die because the magic doesn’t take. Yet you got all of it. How?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Something went wrong. She came forward, but she never fully formed. She and I—we made a link of sorts. It was short, but for that small span of time, I heard her, and I felt her—and then I became her. I never drank Aeshma’s blood. I just absorbed all that she was, then the link fizzled, and she died.” I shrugged again. “I struggled at first. The magic was a lot to take in. I broke the circle, and the witches were knocked unconscious. I was young and dumb. I went straight home like a child, and then told my parents everything. We tried to get out of town, but it was too late.”
“They found you,” Nat said quietly. “They killed your parents, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“And Bree?” she prompted.
I lowered my eyes, and when I finally looked back at her, I hated the pity I saw there. I didn’t deserve it. I brought this on them. On myself.
“She took a spell meant for me. It put her in some kind of coma. I’ve been trying to find a way to wake her up for the last decade, but no one knows what spell was used. I didn’t even think he was alive until the summoning that night.”
“That explains why you bargained with the demon instead of just killing us,” she said. “You were hoping he was strong enough his magic could break the spell without killing her.”
I nodded. “Claude, Kenneth—whoever he was—he was the source. He knew which spell he’d cast, which meant he could undo it. That’s why I tried to send the demon after the rest of you while I got him. But Ronan killed him.”
“Ronan?” She frowned.
“The demon from the club,” I said. “His name is Ronan, or at least that’s what he goes by. Demons wear their true names on their skin.”
Her eyes drifted to my form. I was wearing a T-shirt now, but the brands on my arms were still visible.
“I never knew,” she said.
“Most don’t,” I replied. “It was one of the few things I learned from Aeshma before I absorbed her.”
“Are your brands the same as hers?” Nat asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t think so. They change, now and then. In the same way a person changes and grows, who we are, our true name does as well.” Her eyes seemed to light up, soaking in the little bits of knowledge I was sharing.
“Does your name have a sound? Do the markings mean something?”
“They mean different things, but they’re not like letters. They’re specific to each of us. Our magic and our souls. My true name has a sound, or multiple, but before you ask—no, I’m not telling you what it is.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because that’s how you control a demon. Truly control them. If you know their name, then you can make them do whatever you want.”
She opened, then closed her mouth. “I see. How did you learn your name if it changes?”
“It’s hard to explain. I just sort of know. When one of the brands change, so does my name.” I shrugged again, not the most comfortable with the topic.
“Thank you for sharing with me,” she said.
I shrugged again. “I figure if you run your mouth, I could just shoot you.”
She tossed the pillow back at me, and with the tiny pricks of feathers poking at my face, I grinned into it.
“It’s not like I have many people to run my mouth to. Besides, you know my secret too. I guess we’ve both got weird magic.”
I snorted. “You blew up that fae chick. I’m not sure weird is the only word I’d use to describe it anymore.”
She sighed. “That happens sometimes. Especially when someone uses their magic against me. I just panic, and then it’s like this switch flips and I take all their magic and throw it back