Rebirth (Lost Souls #1)

Chapter 20

H e says it so calmly and confidently that it takes a moment to sink in what exactly he’s saying. What he’s asking of me.

“I’m going to break you out of here?” I repeat, and he nods. “How? No offense, but if you can’t do it yourself, then how am I supposed to?”

“I have reasons to believe that you can.”

“So that’s what I am to you, a means to an end?” Just as I’m trying to see this arrangement between us, despite knowing with every passing moment that that’s the real lie.

“I would not bind myself for all eternity to someone that is just a means to an end.” His voice is lined thickly with poison. “Besides, isn’t that why you agreed to this? Am I not a means to your end?”

I choose to ignore his remark, because it’s the truth and I’m not going to admit that to him. “You need the company, then?” I inquire instead. “Someone to do with as you please, now and after? A woman to keep your bed warm? Or will I become one of many as soon as you’re free?”

Before I can even blink, he’s out of his chair and towering over me. He leans into me and places his hands against the back of my seat, effectively caging me in. “I take a vow like this very, very seriously. What will it take for you to understand that there is and only ever will be you?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, despite knowing who you are, I don’t actually know you. You might be a real monster or a demon for all I know.” His lips curl up at the accusation, and my stomach clenches. Did I just hit the nail on the head?

“And what if I am? Does it matter? Or does it bother you that a demon saved your life?”

He’s not denying it. Why is he not denying it?

“So now you think you own me because you saved my life?”

The more I keep pushing, the angrier he gets. But there is something that I need to know, and he notices.

“What are you aiming for here?” he says, his temper rapidly cooling off.

“Like I said, you’re an asshole. I'm assuming that you’ve always been one and that you will always continue to be one.” He actually smiles at that, and the remaining tension leaves his body, even though he keeps me caged in between his strong arms. “And I understand that I need to be stronger. But what else is there? What more do I need to know? This isn’t just about my revenge and about you breaking free, is it?”

He keeps smiling at me. “Let’s just say that you’re not the only one that’s out for revenge,” he says. “My idea of it is just slightly different from yours.”

That’s when I smile back at him. “So we do have some common ground after all.”

“More than you think, love. Forever would be quite dull otherwise.”

“You speak so casually about forever. But there is no forever, not for a human.” I circle back to how he didn’t deny my earlier accusation, needing to know. “We all die in the end. ”

“You stopped being human the day you killed yourself.”

My breath catches in my throat. Even though I know and feel it to be true, this isn’t where I was going with this. And he damn well knows it. “I can’t die? And if I’m not human anymore, then what am I?”

He shakes his head. “You’re bound to me by both blood and magic. So no, you can’t die. And you’re… something else.”

I gulp as it becomes clear that I most definitely did not think this through. “And what are you ?”

“Does it matter? Does it matter what either of us are?”

Again, he avoids my question. I wonder if it’s because he won’t or can’t answer it. But there is something in his eyes that tells me that how I choose to react next might influence everything between us going forward.

Before I start to overthink it, my hand grabs his tie, and I pull him toward me. I kiss him in reply, teasing him because I know that I can. I’m finally starting to gain some confidence, finally getting a grasp on what it is that I want. And most of all, I start to see that he might be a part of what I want.

He lifts me out of the chair, holding me close as I whisper, “Now teach me how to get the hell out of here.”

He practically drops me upon hearing these words. He seems angry at first, but underneath it is a twinkle of amusement, made apparent by how he’s clearly trying to suppress a smile. “You sure like to push it, don’t you?” he teases, something sly in his eyes.

“Only when you let me. Obviously, we both know that I can’t take you.”

“Yet,” he adds. “I’ll teach you the spell,” he says as he makes his way to the door. “After this, you’re on your own. I need you to take your spell writing to the next level if I—if we —want to get out of here.”

As he corrects himself, I remember that I’m only able to leave for a brief period each time. A couple of hours outside, since that’s as long as he can leave. He opens the door for me, then follows behind me when I step out into the hallway.

“What I don’t understand,” I say as he comes up to walk next to me, “is that if this is your prison, why can you even leave at all?”

He opens the next door for me as well, the gesture almost gentlemanly. “My wings were broken to ensure that I couldn’t. What they didn’t realize is that they’re not. Not completely, anyway. Combined with my magic, they still allow me to leave for brief periods of time. Until the strain becomes too much, and I’m pulled back.”

“Whenever I leave…”

“It strains my wings, which is why there are no consequences for you. But it also means that only one of us can leave at a time. And there’s a cooldown period upon returning, to allow for them to heal.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “The cooldown period is half the time spent away, otherwise there is the risk of the strain becoming too much. It could cause even more permanent damage, which could then result in us truly being stuck here.”

We’re walking down the path around the garden, heading for the library, and I regard him thoughtfully from the corner of my eyes.

“And they haven’t noticed that you can leave? Who even are they?”

“They’re too stuck up for that, too certain of themselves,” he snarls. “As for who they are”—he side-eyes me—“they’re my family.”

Family? My stomach sinks at the idea that his own family locked him up here. What did he do to deserve such punishment? My curiosity urges me to inquire further, but something about his posture stops me. Perhaps this isn’t the time or the place, especially if I want to remain on his good side. I bite my tongue and promise myself to ask later.

We enter the library, and my mood sinks even further. Though the place is cleaned up and all traces of what happened earlier are gone, it feels even emptier than before.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, picking up on my thoughts. “I plan to burn this place down when we leave anyway.”

His words have me dumbstruck. “Wait, what? You mean that talk about punishing me was just talk?”

“Oh no, it wasn’t.” He has a sly look in his eyes. I narrow mine in response, and he reacts by giving me a soft kiss on my cheek.

“How are you so sweet yet so vile? I never know what to expect with you.”

He just gives me that wicked smile of his, and I roll my eyes. He then proceeds to sit me down with a pencil and paper at the only desk still standing in the library—that I no longer feel guilty about after his little confession.

“This transportation spell,” he says, taking a seat across from me at the desk, “is going to be the basis for a whole new array of spells. Most notably the one that you’ll create to break out of this prison.” His eyes linger on mine for a moment. “It was originally written in the same language as the spells that you’ve been using up until now. It didn’t work out the way I intended, so I had to change it. Seeing as you already know Elomadh, Eloghyll shouldn’t be a problem.”

He stops me from asking a question before I even open my mouth. “It only works when powered by my unique magical signature, which is now also yours. That’s why I couldn’t teach you earlier,” he explains. “It’s blood magic, to be specific. Which means that it will always need a sufficient sacrifice in blood. There is no way around that.”

He bites his lip, showing me the drop of blood beading there. Speaking a few words, a black magic circle lights up the space between us.

“That’s why I couldn’t reproduce it,” I say, fascinated by the magic circle hovering in between us. “You’ve created your own language tailored to your specific magical signature. ”

“It’s the best way to maximize its effectiveness.”

It’s amazing, truly, how he came up with a language that works perfectly with his magic. The two fit together so seamlessly that they complement each other. It makes for a unique kind of magic that someone without his magical signature could never hope to reproduce. And because the two fit each other so well, it actually makes his magic stronger than when he would use Elomadh.

“How did you come up with this?” I ask, truly impressed.

He shrugs. “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.”

“So Elomadh is the basis, molded and twisted to create Eloghyll,” I mumble, astonished by it all. “Is it only used for spells? And is everything else in the spell casting the same?” I ask.

He nods. “You just have to remember to add some blood. And since I was the only one using this language up until now, it’s only for magical purposes.”

“Is that what makes blood magic different from normal magic, then? That it can only be used by your signature and with a blood sacrifice, whereas normal magic works with any kind of sacrifice, not necessarily blood?”

“Correct.” He smiles.

“If you have all this power that no one else knows about, let alone can counter, then why do you need me to break you free?”

“Because the spell needs to be performed on the other side for it to be permanent, by my signature but not by me. It won’t work otherwise. I can’t break myself free.”

“And since I’m bound here in the same way that you are?—”

“You’ll be free when I’m free.” His lips tip up in a smile that I return. I now understand why he needed to imprison me here. It was the only way for him to give me this power. To then help him, us, escape.

He took me from a life that was about to end in death and despair. Then, he proceeded to give me the opportunity for revenge. To become who I wanted to be for myself instead of for someone that didn’t even truly care for me anymore. He did it because he needed someone to help him with his own goals, but in doing so he also gave me a second chance. A second life.

It doesn’t mean that what he did to me is any less horrible, though. I don’t think I’ll ever not see him as an asshole, especially if he keeps acting like one from time to time, but at least I got part of my revenge. And, most importantly, I’m not dead. I take that as a win.

“A summoning spell instead of a transportation spell, then. It’s going to be a lot of work, especially on this scale. How certain are you that it can be done?”

“Every spell can be countered, one way or another.”

I nod and lean back in my chair, tapping the pencil on the paper in front of me. “So,” I start, “when do you think that I can go back?”

He looks at me as if he doesn’t understand the question. “Whenever you want. You just have to cast the spell.”

“Oh.” My eyes go from him to my notes. “I can just use your magic? Even though it’s probably still blending with mine?”

“It’s now as much yours as it is mine. Even if it’s not at full strength yet.”

“How will I know that it is?”

“You tell me.” He grins, which is fair enough. Guess I’ll have to wait and see.

I stand up and close my eyes for a moment, remembering the transportation spell that he showed me. Regulating my breathing, I concentrate on the flow of our combined magic. Visualizing helps me to grasp it, to channel it correctly.

The ice blue and the black swirl inside of me, through me. Parts are already entwined with each other, like pieces of string that are woven together. I can almost see it, piece by piece, agonizingly slow but at a steady pace. Even though they are still very much two separate kinds of magic, they’re blended enough to do what I want them to.

Speaking the words and creating the circle, the combined magic flickers around me. It fills the air with its energy. The circle shines bright on the floor in front of me, vibrating with a power that almost makes my hair stand on end.

He grabs my shoulder as I’m about to step into the circle, handing me a piece of paper and a key. “Take this with you.” A mysterious smile plays on his lips.

I look from him to the items in my hand, a frown on my face. I clasp the key in one hand and unfold the piece of paper with the other.

“Now go.” He shoves me inside the circle as I read the words, and a startled yelp escapes me. Magic rushes around me for a split second, and then I’m elsewhere.

The first thing I see when I emerge on the other side is the sun setting behind the trees from what seems to be a large park. With both the paper and key still in my hand, I take in my surroundings further. Something about this street seems familiar, though I’m unable to place it.

There is indeed a park in front of me, and just the sight of it is enough to put me at ease. I turn around and see a row of big, ornate white houses across the street. All of them appear to be single-family detached homes, consisting of two floors and tall windows that make the houses look as if they have an extra floor.

There’s a modest front yard that stretches the width of the house and curves to the side on the left, running down the length of the house. It’s separated from the sidewalk by tall, neatly trimmed shrubbery that has a gap in the middle, allowing entry to the house. It creates a false sense of privacy, but brings the whole exterior together. A set of low, white stairs with only two steps leads up to a front door. The house closest by has the same number as the address on the piece of paper, meaning the spell brought me exactly where he wanted me to go.

I tuck the paper away in the pocket of my dress and hesitantly ascend the stairs to the house. My heart beats frantically in my chest, and my mouth feels as dry as a desert while I fumble with the key until the lock finally clicks. My trembling hands push the door open. With a deep breath, I step inside and find the light switch on my left-hand side. The lights flick on, and I find myself standing in an open foyer with a hallway in front of me. The hallway leads deeper into the house, ending in a set of tall double doors with a few more doors along both the left and right.

On the floor lies an envelope with my name on it. Inside it is a letter that consists of only two words. Yet they are all I need, even though I didn’t know how much until I read them.

Welcome home.