The Warlock 3 by Dante King

Author:Dante King [King, Dante]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2022-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“She’s stable,” Deja said, worry inflecting her tone. “I don’t think we have to worry about her passing away any time soon, but I also couldn’t tell you when she’s going to regain consciousness. And these streaks of darkness running under her skin—I won’t lie, they worry me greatly…”

They’d managed to get most of the refugees to stay downstairs. A few of them still lingered in the hallway, though, listening in to the activity going on in Deja’s bedroom. That’s where they’d brought Melissa’s body once Deja had filled her with enough healing potions to transfer the redhead upstairs to a bed.

She looked awful. The aforementioned streaks of darkness patterned Melissa’s skin like a bad tattoo, while the skin not touched by Inamorato’s corruption was paper thin and almost see through. Other than her hair, she had no color at all.

The reunion between Wes and his familiars had been brief so far, and muted by tragedy. Other than a long, lingering hug from each of his women, he’d had precious little time to check in on them and see how they were doing while he was away. He hadn’t even had time to explain what had happened to him in Kulili’s maw, or describe the incredible architecture of Hell’s elite cities to his women. Melissa had taken precedence.

“This is what Inamorato did to Cirice,” Wes said bitterly, holding up one of Melissa’s arms. Veins spiderwebbed beneath the milky skin like the filling in a toaster pastry, only so black and foul that no one would have eaten it. “She wasn’t born Lady Morningstar. She was made. By that fucking abomination.”

Deja looked up from Melissa’s body, her face grave. “I take it you weren’t able to convince her to come home?” the genie asked.

Wes sighed. How could he possibly explain? “I got through to her,” he said, gritting his teeth at the memory. “She was back, Deja. She was Cirice again. She even agreed to come back to Deja Vu with me. And then that bastard Inamorato did this to her with that dagger, and she’s a monster again…”

“Fucking hell,” Azura whispered, stepping away from Melissa’s prone form. “She looks awful. Are you sure she’s going to pull through?”

The succubus trailed off as the sounds of wailing filled the bedroom. Hazel had been clinging onto her emotions by her fingernails from the moment her former leader fell through that portal, and seeing her now in such a frail, fragile state had her weeping like Melissa was already dead. The blonde buried her face in the crook of Melissa’s shoulder, huge shuddering sobs wracking her slender frame.

“Get up, please,” Hazel begged, cradling Melissa’s colorless face like a mother with her child. “Lissy, please—you’re here, you’re back, just get up…”

Wes swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, taking a step backward. “I don’t…I really don’t know what to do…”

It was the most awful moment of Wes’s life. All the control he’d fostered since coming into his Warlock powers, the family he’d built with his familiars—all of it felt as if it were slipping through his fingers.

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