Page 12 of Mending Mayhem
“Hit me with all you’ve got.” I squeezed Chaos’s hand, and he opened to me, a blast of demon magic surging through my psyche and making my head spin. I gave some of it to Shade, and we recited the incantation in unison.
Still clutching each other’s hands, we stared at the box, waiting for Mayhem’s purple smoke to consume the bone powder.
Nothing happened.
“Try again.” Panic tinged the edges of my voice, and my stomach felt like it was crawling into my chest.
We cast the summoning again. Still, nothing happened.
“It’s not working,” Ash said.
“No shit.” I focused on the sigil, an image of Mayhem’s face forming in my mind. “One more time. Don’t hold back.”
Another tidal wave of magic coursed through my system, the essence of three other witches and a demon spiraling through me, mixing and melding until I thought I might burst. “Hecate, please help us.”
We recited the summoning a third time, and I reached as far into the ether as my mind would allow, searching for the low vibration of my demon. I found nothing, and the black smoke in the shoebox faded as the last of the bone powder incinerated, leaving behind a single glowing ember.
Shade loosened his grip on my hand, but I held him tighter, refusing to give up. This had to work. Mayhem had to come back.
“Please,” I whispered. “I need you.”
The final ember dimmed, taking my hope with it.
My posture deflated, and I dropped my hands to my sides. Pressure built in the back of my eyes, but I blinked back the tears threatening to fall. I would not get emotional in front of my team. Not now. Not ever.
I strode to the table and slammed the grimoire shut. “I’m sorry, Ash. I…”
“Ember…” She grabbed my arm and spun me toward the summoning circle.
A thick stream of purple smoke poured through an invisible rift, billowing inside the ring before swirling around the box. My breath caught at the sight, and I pressed a hand to my chest. My heart sprinted beneath my fingers as I stepped toward him, a mix of relief, wariness, and elation swirling inside me.
“Mayhem?” I reached for the demon.
He recoiled, his face forming in the smoke. “You burned my skull?”
“It was an accident.” I held up my hands. “We were trying to bring you back.”
“Liar!” He slammed into my chest, and I careened backward, crashing into the wall. An arm formed, pressing against me with nearly enough force to crack a rib, his smoky face two inches from mine as he spoke.
“Now I cannot reform without a host,” he growled.
I shook my head, wheezing as I sucked in a breath. “We’ll figure something out. Give us some time.”
His lip pulled into a sneer. “I cannot exist in this realm without a corporeal form. You, dear witch, just condemned one of your coven members to death.”
His smoky form jerked away, billowing toward the door.
“Take me.” I stepped toward him. “I’ll be your host.”
His menacing laugh echoed as if it had formed in the bowels of Hell and traveled across the veil the moment he opened his mouth. “I will deal with you after I reform.”
He shot through the door, knocking the books off Ash’s desk on his way out the back, and all I could do was watch him leave.
Silence filled the room like someone stuffed it with cotton, no one moving a muscle as what just happened sank in. My mouth hung open, so I snapped it shut and waited for my brain to process it all. The skull was gone…completely ash…before Mayhem crossed the veil.
“How…?” I turned around to find my team with the same perplexed expressions. “There was nothing left. The skull was mostly ash when we started. We shouldn’t have been able to bust him out of prison without it.”
“We didn’t.” Chaos leaned against the table and crossed his arms. “You did.”