Grace Unchained (Bloodrite Book 1) Page 3

  Blank stares.

  “If they were real believers, they would have gone with the better stories, better name. I mean Satan-sounds like I should wear him. But The Morningstar? That’s a guy with oomph or Lucifer—That sounds like a fun guy.”

  Where was this chatterbox coming from? Was it her nervousness? Her feeling safer? Lucifer wasn’t sure, but he knew it was fun to hear, even if it made the others pause.

  “What?” Grace asks. “Did I answer wrong?”

  With his tongue in his cheek, Lucifer wiped at the corner of his eye, “I think they are a touch worried that you may have put a bit of thought into the whole Satan thing.”

  Grace scoffs. “Wouldn’t you try to learn everything about something that was trying to hurt you? I mean, if you could, if you had the means? After every beating, every indignity, and harassment, I was left for hours to see if the evil he was pouring into me would awaken something buried inside me. But I was left with his research, mostly gibberish, but I would read what I could to find a reason or some way to escape it all.” She wraps her arms around herself. “I tried to find out how he could always find me, see if there was something in me… I don’t know, even now, how he finds me. It’s fucking creepy.”

  Another hand, another zap, and a curse. “You say he is this horribly dangerous man, has the power of the Human Council behind him?” The asker looks to Lucifer. “You expect us to protect her?” He looks back at Grace, “Are we to put our own in jeopardy—at risk— for you? He will come for you if he is as connected as you say.”

  “I know. I asked for a parcel, maybe some farm animals and fresh water. I did not ask to be with you. Only for a place that could be spelled to hide me. Coming here was not my request.”

  “So then why come?” A voice calls over the crowd.

  “Have you ever said no to these guys?” Grace points back over her shoulder. Somehow, she has stepped to the front of the space and taken over. The head gestures and murmurs show her they understand. She sighs in mild frustration, wanting this over with. Either they will agree or send her on her way. If the latter, better now than give Imp even another moment to regroup and track her. She has no idea where they are or how far, but she knows he is coming, which means she needs to be hidden or back on the road with whatever she can carry to survive.

  “Look—” She pauses to regain her calm. “All I want is to be free. Like many, I lost my family when the humans dropped their bombs. I have fought to keep alive, fought to get here. Imp thinks he knows demons and that he was one. He has no idea of demons. I, however, have had my encounters.”

  7

  Lucifer looks at Grace with surprise. How could she know demons and he not know of her existence? “You know demons?” He asks incredulously.

  “Knew. A small lot. The first time he tried a casting. He dragged me out to a warehouse, cast the circle with the inverted pentagram, and panicked while he was trying to carve me. There were voices. Seemed his efforts brought them. He ran, and the pack found me. I thought they were gonna eat me, but instead, they took me back to their lair? Lair right, that’s what it is?”

  Lucifer gives a short nod and waves for her to continue.

  “I was not on the menu. Instead, they healed me, leaving me with a reminder.” Grace lifts her shirt showing a scar down her chest. “Olle made it better, though.” She looks at the angel, and he smiles softly. “They tried to hide me, but Imp found me.” Her eyes lower. “I do not know what became of them. I do know they did not come for me. Even after this was done by that bastard.” Turning, she hesitates but then shows them the marking Olle did not tell the others about. On her back was the inverted pentagram, branded deeply into her flesh.

  Lucifer hisses, “What a monster.” His eyes narrow at Olle. They would have to chat later about keeping things close to the chest.

  Grace lets out a little yelp as she is pulled into Ursa’s chest, and he hugs her protectively.

  She pats his arm. “I am okay. It was almost ten years ago. I was just sixteen, barely a woman yet.”

  “Wait, you were sixteen when this started?”

  “Well, I met him at thirteen. He began to pursue me a year later.” The looks on their faces lead her to clarify. “He didn’t touch me. Not like that. He said the vessel had to be clean and pure, even as he hurt me in other ways. He said the age of coming was twenty. That then he would have me either way.”

  Mummers start again.

  “You can imagine I was desperate to make sure that never happened. We stayed close in the beginning to where I knew others. Though they were too afraid to help me escape, there were little things….” Her mind appears to wander as she speaks. “I knew an elf, and it was to him upon escaping again that I gave my virginity in hopes of deterring Imp. It did not work.” She speaks so calmly that a woman speaks to it.

  “How do you speak of such horror with no emotions?” She clutches her chest as if feeling the pain Grace clearly did not.

  “I did, and it nearly broke me. When I was ready to give up, give in and let Imp have me, a friend… Risked herself to get me out. Her family had a witch's line. She cast a spell that took the pain away. I still remember it all, but it is pushed far enough away that it no longer hurts me. Without the trauma, I can think clearly again. I can speak on it, explain it, but not have to endure its lasting. They tried to hide me, but when he found me… He always finds me. I begged him to leave them, so long as they promised to stay away. I think he thought to buy my loyalty.”

  “Why did they not come to us when they had you?” The Priestess Tabitha asks. “If they were witches, we could have helped. Stopped this before it came to this end.”

  Grace shakes her head. “They would not. Her family has a distaste for your world. Why I cannot say as she never spoke to it. Suffice to say, it was not in their minds an option.”

  “I could reach out, ensure their safety. He may think they have stepped in again.” Priestess Tabitha offers.

  Grace shrugs. It seems her feelings for anything truly emotional were muted as well.

  “So that is a lot of information. Are we to barrage her continuously, or has Grace answered all that you have asked?” Lucifer looks over the crowd, almost daring them to keep this exhaustive line of questioning.

  Grace hopes that they are done. She is tired from talking. Imp rarely let her have conversations, so this was sapping all her energy. She wants to cry as a woman steps forward.

  “If you stay here, will you interact with the town, contribute in some way, or hide in the corners?”

  “If you let me stay, I am at your mercy. If you wish me to stay away, I shall. If you wish for me to contribute as you have put it, all I can say is I can try.” She chuckles softly. “Even before the bombs, or those things that have fractured me, I was—odd. Awkward with any but animals, to be honest.” A flush comes to her face as she leans into Ursa.

  A cacophony of caws fills the air and a black bird resembling a crow but far larger swoops down, pecking at Ursa until he has no choice but to let Grace go to swat at it. As Grace steps away, the flying beast turns and lands on her shoulder, picking at her head with its beak.

  “Ouch—Raven, stop.” She snaps as it nuzzles into her neck.

  “What is with that?” Ursa growls, wiping at himself.

  “This is Raven. He belonged to my mother. She liked to think of herself as a human witch. She practiced the so-called old religion and said that Raven and his other came to her. That they were her familiars.” She shrugs, “When she passed, they came to me. When I am free, he appears first. Rook later, as they cannot seem to find me when Imp has me. It makes this one ornery, as you can see.”

  The woman that had spoken last lets out a little knowing laugh, as do some others in the crowd. “I can see the bond between you. I imagine it was much the same with your mother, who was, of course, a true human witch, even if she did not understand it. Some of you have a touch for magic. With time you can even use it. Did she practice white or black or keep the balance in grey?”

  Grace knit her brows together. “She was grey.”

  “Do you know the differences?” Priestess Tabitha asks. This was, after all, her domain.

  Grace nods. “Mum said light and dark magic are two halves of the whole. If one wanted to maintain a balance in themselves, they needed to use them in equal measure. My dad once told me that it sapped her strength when she was young and tried only white magic, and she didn’t get better until she resumed her dark chants.”

  “Hmm, perhaps she had the blessings of light and darkness. Some human witches, in their pursuits, make unknowable pacts. Typically, with one demon or another being of power, and sometimes they make more than one. It makes for very strong magic. If this were her lot, then when she stopped using the dark magic, the demon that fuelled it was slighted, and she felt its pain and wrath until she righted the slight.” Lucifer, being the authority on demons, said very plainly.

  “Maybe he’s a lurker then?” Grace swatted at Raven playfully. “Are you the dark demon? You are awful to me sometimes.”

  The bird caws and snaps at her, almost playfully. He did seem to easily understand her.

  I swear he laughs at me.” She shakes her head. The truth was she was quite sure the little asshole was laughing. She was just not ready to explain that to people who were just beginning to trust her, or so she hoped.

  8

  Exhausted, Grace and the council members awaited the decision of the townspeople. As they speak amongst themselves, Lucifer takes to watching Grace with Raven.

  The bird had calmed and sat silently watching the people as Grace pet him.

  “You are one interesting lady.” Lucifer pauses his steps as the bird suddenly glares at him.

  Grace, unsure of how to take th
e remark, settled on it being a complement of some type. “Why, thank you?”

  Before Lucifer could say more, there was a voice raising from the townsfolk.

  “We have made up our minds.” It was the voice of the woman that seemed to know of Grace’s mother’s ability. A gentle smile spreads across her well-worn face. “We welcome you, Grace. We hope you will be happy here and come to spend time with us. We feel you will be good here, and we will keep you safe. If your claimer appears, he will regret what he has done. He has no claims on you or any that he may think rests within you.” With a nod, she takes steps to leave, and the entire crowd disperses just as quickly.

  “That was—anti-climactic.” Grace almost chuckles, and Raven caws as if in agreement.

  “Come, they have their way, and we ours. The hour is late.” Olle motions for her to follow, but Ursa prompts her movement. Taking her hand in a fatherly way.

  Splash appears at her other side, keeping their stride. “Stonebridge is a little outside of town. You are going to love it.”

  “I thought that was Stonebridge?” Grace looks back toward the lights beginning to flicker as the dark spread.

  “Old Stonebridge is the town. The manor is named for it. Or was it the other way?” Lucifer laughs, “It’s been so long one never can remember. It is like the chicken and the egg. Though I have that answer.” He winks, then strolls off ahead to catch Olle.

  “Oy—” Lucifer gently grabs the angel by the arm, though they keep walking to keep the distance and the conversation between them.

  “I already know what you are to say.” Olle puffs his chest.

  “You should have told us about the brand.”

  “It was not mine to say. You know damn well that if I had, you would have stormed in, nostrils all flaring, and she would never trust us.”

  Lucifer pouts. Olle was right, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it. “Just—more communication. Okay?”

  “Yes, Lucifer.” Olle rolls his eyes as they come upon the manor.

  Waiting for the others outside the two-story walled gates, Lucifer looks back, hearing the bird, and finds it staring him down. “Oof and they thought my serpent was creepy.” He mutters as they are joined by the rest.

  “You preparing for an attack?” Grace looks up the length of the twisting metal with wide eyes until Lucifer steps in front of her.

  “No. We simply do not wish for any to wander around if we have not invited them first.”

  The smirk on his face makes Grace think of groupies, fangirls, or any other manner of lookie-loos. He waves for her to follow him and then sticks his hand in a small slot. It opens up to reveal a keypad with symbols. He presses a few, then steps aside.

  “Hand?” Grace hesitates, and he nods toward the space expectantly. “Please?”

  Placing her hand down, she feels it warm and tries to pull back, but Lucifer presses down over her hand until it beeps, leaving her glaring at him as she pulls away.

  “There—” Lucifer doges a peck. “Now it knows you. The gate is empathically sealed with magic. You can lock it so that none may enter unless you or one of us gives them welcome. You should always feel safe here.”

  She nods. That did make this place feel safer than anywhere else she has ever tried to hide. “Bloody hell, it is fucking huge.” Grace could not stop her mouth as her eyes went as wide as the manor in front of her.

  There was some laughter as they passed her, but only Tabitha stops beside her, taking her hand.

  “It is huge but well-kept and rather cozy on the inside. You will see.” Her eyes try to gauge Grace, but the young woman was a vault unless sounding her current emotion. “Have you considered or tried to take up your mother’s magic?”

  “No—I mean not really.” She shrugs. “I was never very good at it. Anytime I tried, it went horribly wrong. Mum put a stop to it after the crops all nearly died. She often said I had a calling, but it was not to be a witch.” Grace smiled from the fond memory of her mother’s caring words. Of course, she misses her family, but she grieved long ago, and the once stabbing pain was now no more than a dull ache of something gone. The familiars had helped, as she felt she had a part of her mother within them.

  “And what of your father?” Priestess Tabitha presses, an inkling that there is more to this young woman than she knows.

  Grace thought about her dad, “He was…a healer. Some used to call him a shaman.” Not wanting to think more about them and risk the pain of their loss returning, Grace pulls away from the priestess and makes her way toward the entrance.

  “The girl comes from strong human magic. She may have a calling yet.” Priestess Tabitha whispers to the listening wind.

  Grace sighs in heavy frustration as she stands in the doorway to find several new people staring intently at her and Raven. “I am really getting sick of people watching me.” Raven pecks her in protest. “Yeah, yeah, rude, I know.”

  “Grace, meet our staff.” Lucifer presents the women. These lovely ladies are Hanny and Fran, witches by design, but they tend to the more—domestic things around here.”

  The women give curt nods, though the one introduced as Fran spoke. “Why do you have a familiar?”

  “Yes,” the other interjected. “We were told to prepare for a human woman, not a—what are you?”

  “I’m Grace—and he was my mother’s familiar. I got him by default when she died.”

  “You should not keep him if you do not know how to handle him. Shall I take him so another may train him?” Hanny steps toward the bird and Grace. Though Grace tries to step away, Raven lunges for the woman, seeming to gain in size as he flaps. His razor-sharp beak connects with her hand, making her call out in pain, and draw back the now bleeding appendage.

  “I would not try that again. Raven does not like it when people touch him, or me for that matter. He will most certainly hurt you.” Grace patted his head, calming the bird. “It’s okay, Raven. They will not touch you, there-there.” The bird appears to revert in size as Lucifer watches the scene.

  “A demonic crow.” He says quite matter-of-factly.

  Grace smirks, “So he is a demon—I knew it—ouch—damn bird.” She growls as it pecks her with attitude.

  Lucifer shakes his head. “Well, no—he is not an actual demon. It is a term kept for those animals, often familiars, which take on the magic from the pacts their witches make. It is very possible he has been infused with the magic from the demon pact.” A thoughtful look crosses his face as he looks to Olle, who tilts his head with a small nod.

  “What?” Grace asks, seeing the unspoken conversation.

  “Did your mother have a second familiar? Balanced—er grey—witches sometimes do.”

  Grace tilts away from Raven and shrugs slightly. “That would be Rook. He comes and goes, as he sees fit.” Her shoulders roll in anticipation as the sound of flapping fills the room, and a white blur barrels toward her. She is pushed forward as a solid white crow settles on her right shoulder. “Speak of the dev—ow-ow-angel! Speak of the angel!” She quickly corrects as the bird pecks at her to show its displeasure at the misspoken remark. “Damn crows and their pecking.”

  “Rook?” Grace and the birds look at Lucifer as he speaks again, holding his smirk. “Seems to be infused with your mother's white magic, just as deeply as Raven has the black.

  “Great, demonic crows, some help—I swear either of you pecks me again, I am baking you in pies. You got big ovens in this place, right?”

  Fran and Hanny gasp, covering their mouths. The Crows, however, peck her at the same time.

  “Ouch! Enough! That’s it, no treats.” This seems to get the right response. The birds settle, go quiet and then try to nuzzle her. “Nope, not happening. You already pecked me quite enough. Shoo!” She shrugs them off, and they almost take out the women and Lucifer as their low flight takes them to the railing for the grand stairs, where they dejectedly stare.

  “I don’t believe I have ever seen any bird accomplish that puppy dog look before.” Priestess Tabitha lets out a sound of endearment.

  “They are good, but I am stronger.”

  9

  “Moving on.” Lucifer rotates his hand past the witches. “So Hanny and Fran, you have met Splash. As we have said, he keeps the grounds. As do his sons, here, Pond and Lake.” Grace purses her lips at them. They are both like their father, lean and taller than her. There appear to be a few years between them, and though their hair was different, one a marshy brown and the other a reed blonde, their eyes were very much like Splash.