Miss Cainson screamed shrilly as Risk’s demonic essence raced toward her body and started pouring into her mouth. Her head tipped back, and the veins in her neck throbbed as her body was consumed. My eyes stayed on her stomach as I prayed Risk’s child would be okay.
But then...it just stopped.
Everything froze for a single second.
The chanting, the screams, the ghoulish smoke, the licking red flames. The essence pulling out of Risk and pushing into Miss Cainson...it all got suspended in time. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but a terrorizing eternity passed between us.
And then, it was like there was a snap. A vacuum suddenly started pulling in every single source of power in the room. Everything rushed at Miss Cainson in a violent sweep, and I knew something had gone terribly wrong.
Risk’s essence was no longer being forced into her mouth. Instead, it was like she was sucking it in. The essence, the fire, the smoke, even the elemental’s barrier. It all started pulling to her like a magnet, while black, depthless smoke billowed around her, like she was a black hole sucking everything in and devouring it whole.
Collector shouted orders, sending a violent gust of his own demonic power straight at the demon ritual circle. The chanting stopped under his command, forcing the fires to recede in steady waves, like all oxygen had been starved from the burning hellfire and suffocated the evil ritual in steady waves. As soon as he broke the circle, the strange hold from Miss Cainson stopped, and Risk’s essence cut away from her and flew back into Risk.
Risk slumped against the chair, and Miss Cainson fell onto the floor, both she and Risk unconscious.
“Risk!” I screamed, but he didn’t rouse. “Risk! Wake up!” My words were a garbled mess. Cries and pleas shaken with terror. “Risk!” I yelled again, my voice a booming outcry that echoed against the stunned silence in the room.
“He’ll be okay, Little Spider,” Crow said, trying to comfort me.
“You’re hurting yourself,” Tomb pointed out, staring at my arms where I’d struggled so much against the chains that my skin had been scraped raw, and blood dribbled down like crimson tears.
“What the hell just happened, Belvini?” someone from the audience demanded, snagging my attention. I scanned the room and noticed that everyone watching looked obviously shaken.
Collector spouted off rushed instructions for the hooded figures, and they quickly picked up Miss Cainson and took her away as he addressed the crowd. “It seems that Miss Cainson was unable to hold the demon’s amount of power,” he said, though his eyes shifted nervously.
A lie. He was lying. I knew that for a fact, but the truth wasn’t as clear.
“Have no fear, she will be perfectly fine. We prepared for that scenario, however unlikely we thought it to be. We’d hoped because of her level of elemental power that she was strong enough, but it appears not.”
He was blaming it on her now. His PC excuses were almost laughable. Something had happened, that was certain, but he was lying about this and saving face by claiming she hadn’t been strong enough.
“If this ritual didn’t work, how do we know the other exorcisms will?” someone else in the audience demanded.
“People, people, calm down.” My eyes tracked the familiar voice, and I recognized my father standing up from his seat, his expression smoothed to boost morale to the dwindling confidence of the crowd. “That was unfortunate, but it just shows you the level of preparedness Spector has. That was an attempted exorcism on a high level demon. No one else has ever been able to do that before. Councilwoman Cainson will be fine, and there’s no harm done. But the other rituals will go off without a hitch, I can assure you. So long as you’re strong enough and don’t fight the merging, the demon will possess you without issue.”
“How do we know that’s true?” the person demanded.
They were losing the audience. Ripples of doubt and unease were taking over, and my father could sense it. “I’m sure President Belvini can put on another demonstration right now.” He turned to Collector expectantly.
Collector’s jaw ticked, but he forced an easygoing smile on his face. “Of course. Let me put your minds at ease,” he said smoothly before gesturing to me. “The auction for the black widow demon starts now. Let’s start the bidding.”
Chapter 30
I never much thought about what I was worth.
As a poor kid growing up, worth was always determined for me. People would see me in thrift store clothing, living at my rural address and drinking stale human blood bags, and they’d put a label on me. Poor. Underprivileged. Inferior. Unimpressive. Unimportant.
If anyone would’ve asked to buy me then, I wonder if I could’ve even inspired two pennies to rub together.
It was strange to have an exact price put on my head simply because of the demon that was inhabiting my body. They were buying her, my spider, trying to take away the thing that had made me whole—the thing that had made my life have worth and value and purpose. Not because I was suddenly worth seven figures to these people, but because she was my soul’s partner, and with her presence, I’d found myself.
Numbers were shouted with enthusiasm. People were clawing at the chance to claim power, bidding their fortunes like there was nothing to it.
“Sold! To Mrs. Glenda Wind, Councilman Wind’s wife.” Collector’s voice boomed throughout the room.
There was murmuring, ranging from the disgruntled disappointment of those who didn’t win the bidding war, to the enthusiastic talk about seeing her inhabiting the black widow demon.
I took in the shifter woman. She was ardent in desire, her wide eyes
