Anya Bast - Witch Blood

The chambers were uniformly bare, with only a bed and small bathroom apiece. There were no bars. The place was set up more like a psych ward in a hospital than a traditional prison. The inmates were allowed little to no contact between them and they were never allowed to go outside, not for the entirety of their terms, since outside meant beyond the charmed walls.

“Has anyone ever escaped this place?” asked Isabelle, her gaze eating up the austere, depressing surroundings with interest. “Bribe a guard? Escape into the ventilation?”

Thomas shook his head. “There have been attempts, none successful.”

She glanced up at the white walls and shivered. “If I were an inmate here, I’d spend every second of my time trying to get out.”

“ You’d probably succeed, too.”

She gave him a coy glance, big brown eyes warm beneath long ginger-colored lashes. “Flatterer.”

Accompanied by two armed guards, they walked to a room at the end of a long corridor and stood in front of a metal door with a viewing slit in the top. One of the guards produced a key and led them inside.

Stefan sat on the bed wearing light gray Gribben prison clothes and soft-soled shoes. He appeared so harmless when he was powerless, just like any other silly, millionaire playboy who’d been naughty and been thrown in county lockup. His pretty boy face wore a morose expression, his shoulders slumped. In a word, he looked humiliated.

Was it an act, or was he genuinely suffering under the burden of having his magick removed? Stefan was an extremely powerful warlock and Gribben tended to be harder on them.

Or maybe he was feeling the injuries Isabelle had dealt him. He’d still be able to sire children, but the doctors said it had been a close thing. The thought of Stefan being a father sent chills through him. Perhaps Isabelle should have been more thorough.

Isabelle and Micah hung back by the door with the guards while Thomas took a few steps into the bare room, the heels of his shoes sounding on the concrete floor. Despite his approach, Stefan only had eyes for Isabelle and they sparked with pure murderous hatred.

Thomas walked into his line of sight, blocking Isabelle’s form and forcing Stefan to move his gaze to Thomas’s face. He did, slowly.

“Do you know why you’re here, Stefan?”

“Because of that bitch.” The words were low and clearly pronounced.

“Wrong.”

Defiance flared across his face, hot and unrelenting. His blue eyes seemed to burn in his ashen face. It made it clear that, though he may be suffering under the effects of Gribben and from his injuries, Stefan was not down for the count, not by a long shot.

“Do you really think you and your Coven could have taken me, Monahan? I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that bitch of a witch.”

“I’d be happy to try and freeze it off again, Stefan,” said Isabelle, “if you’re not happy with my first attempt.”

Stefan bolted toward Isabelle, but the guards aimed their guns at him. The cold, metallic sound of their weapons being repositioned and aimed rooted Stefan in place not far from his bunk. Stefan had no magick to call and he knew it. He slid slowly back to his original spot, his baleful gaze centered on Isabelle.

“If you can’t resist goading him, Isabelle, I’ll ask you to leave,” said Thomas in a low, icy voice without turning around.

“Sorry.” She didn’t actually sound sorry, however.

“Stefan, you’re here because you tried to kill four witches in a demon circle last winter and because you’re the head of the Duskoff, the organization responsible for the demon currently residing in our dimension.”

“I was a child when that demon was birthed. I bear no responsibility.”

Thomas ignored him. “You’re also here because we need information.” He paused. “If we didn’t need that information, I would’ve let Isabelle kill you.”

“You want to know about the demon, the one who will not go home,” replied Stefan. “If I tell you, will you still kill me?”

“If you cooperate, you buy your life.”

Stefan laughed harshly and looked up. “Right. You would not kill me here. Not now, when I am stripped of my magick and defenseless this way. That is against your precious code of conduct. Harm ye none . But you don’t understand I would rather die than stay here in this magickless place. To imprison me here is to harm , you fool.”

Thomas blinked slowly. “You brought it on yourself. Think of it as karma.”

“I will not give you anything without receiving something in return.”

Thomas had anticipated this, but it made his blood heat all the same. Being divested of his magick had stripped Stefan of his usual bravado, though it was clear that he still possessed his will…and his gall.

He took two steps forward and yanked Stefan up by his shirt front. “Didn’t you hear me?” his voice shook with emotion, trembled with the restraint it took not to punch Stefan out cold. This warlock had nearly killed his cousin last winter and Thomas took threats to his family very seriously.

“I guess I didn’t. Explain it again.” A sneer saturated the words.

“You’re alive only because of the information you can give us. You will tell us what we want to know without any concessions on our part.” He let go. Stefan sat down hard on the bed. “You have no leverage here. You have no power here.”

Stefan didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at Thomas. He simply stared past Thomas at the wall, barely banked rage in his eyes. Stefan looked ready to snap and Thomas wondered for a moment if he would attack him in an attempt to commit suicide by prison warden.

Micah stepped forward impatiently and broke the tension. “Why didn’t the demon go home, Stefan? Usually they’re yanked through the doorway created in the Duskoff’s demon circle, they serve the warlocks, have their fun, and they return to their world. They don’t want to spend their entire existence here. So why has this one stayed?”

There were many dimensions that existed alongside Earth, accessed only when an area of the matter that created reality was sped up to the vibrational rate needed to create a breach. When the Duskoff cast a demon circle and sacrificed four witches, one for each of the elements, they used the witches’ raped magick to change the frequency of matter to open such a door.

The magick of the warlocks who cast the circle resonated with a specific demon somewhere past the doorway, one that was as malicious and self-serving as the warlocks themselves. Plus, the more powerful the witches sacrificed, the more powerful and evil the demon.

The spell cast by the warlocks dragged the creature through the doorway against its will, essentially kidnapping and enslaving it for a negotiated period of time.

The demons, however, didn’t like this place and certainly didn’t want to reside here when they had a better-suited environment back home. Historically, they’d come, wreak havoc, shed blood, and go home. The doorways worked that way — demons could return to their dimension once they’d come through, but demons could not, at will, enter this dimension unless a doorway was deliberately created on this side.

The demon they now searched for had been raised in the demon circle that had killed Thomas’s Aunt Eva, a powerful air witch who had also been Mira’s mother. This demon had elected to reside in this dimension for over twenty-five years.

“I am happy to tell you why it stayed.” Stefan gave a short, harsh laugh. “No, I am proud to tell you, because this demon is the worst of the worst. The Duskoff raised a magnificent, powerful creature.” He raised his gaze and smiled. “It is a credit to our ability.”