Page 85 of Infernal Bindings

And then I feel it. The tether between Daemon and me snaps into place like a rubber band, and it’s so much stronger than the infernal tattoo had ever been. Breaths heavy, I stumble across the floor, reaching for my dagger that I left on the white table. I snatch it up, my body so hot, so exhausted, that I can barely focus. I stare at Salios as I slide the blade across my cheek, and watch the wound spread across a passed-out Daemon’s.

“From now on, whatever happens to him happens to me,” I tell Salios, as if he needs the reminder. “And you’re not allowed to hurt humans when they’re on the mortal plane.”

“Then I’ll take you to Hell.”

It’s a false threat, and we both know it. The portals only work on willing individuals, and he can’t glamour me either; I’m wearing Minerva’s drops. The two of us say nothing for a long moment as the magic in the room fades, and the truth about what I’ve done settles in. Then Salios claps, slowly, a smile spreading across his lips.

“You’ve bested me, little witch,” he admits. “Congratulations. You’re the first human who ever has.”

“I’ll be taking Daemon home now,” I tell him, straightening my shoulders and raising my chin like Mom does. Wherever home is. “You won’t stop me.”

It isn’t a question.

He holds his hands up in a placating way. “By all means, take the liar and the murderer home with you. Enjoy your time together.”

“He didn’t murder Martha,” I say. Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve the locket Mom gave me and pass it to Salios, crossing and breaking the barrier to do so. We don’t need it anymore. “The angels did it, then framed Daemon so they could have me. Do with that information what you will.”

Personally, I hope there is a war. Not between the witches, but between Heaven and Hell. It seems like it’s been a long time coming.

Either way, it’s not my problem anymore.

Bending, I reach under Daemon’s armpits, trying and failing to lift him. In his demon form, he’s several feet taller than me and all muscle. The physics don’t exactly work out.

“Tell me where you want him and I’ll teleport him there,” Salios offers. It’s surprisingly gracious of him.

I arch a brow. “Why would you be helpful?”

“Because you’re still my witch,” he says. “That bond between us, Annalise, only I can break it, and I’m not interested in that just yet. Who knows, maybe I’ll grow bored of you in the next hundred years or so, but until then…”

I open my mouth to object, then close it, because there is absolutely no force on Heaven, Hell, or Earth that can make an archdemon remove this bond. Instead, I flip him off, and he laughs.

“Tell me where to put him,” Salios says again.

“His bedroom.”

One minute, Daemon is in my hands and the next, he’s gone, several hours away. And I know he’s safer there, where his mother can help me care for him, but God, it feels like the piece of my soul that I just got back has been ripped away again.

“I’ll see you soon, Annalise,” Salios says. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Then he’s gone too.

Quietly, I pick up my aunt’s spellbook and the thin parchment containing Salios’s tethering spell, then head home—not to a condo, but to Daemon. Wherever he is, is where I belong.

40

HEALING

“How is he?” I ask Minerva, who greets me at the front door. Last year, she gave me a key to her house and permission to let myself in whenever I want, but I’ve always felt a bit uncomfortable using it. Tonight, she answers the door in her silky green dressing robe, her hair a ratty mess from the unexpected demon now in her basement.

“He's still asleep,” she says, leading me inside. “I have a Septem doctor looking him over, but there’s not much to be done until he transforms into his human self. You should stay with him until then. He’ll want you there when he finally comes to.”

I nod, already wringing my hands in anticipation. The past few hours have been torture, waiting to see him again, needing to know he’s alright—or as alright as can be expected.

“Do you want to come with me?” I ask Minerva, who hovers by the basement door. It’s the polite thing to do, even if I’d rather us have our privacy.

Part of me wishes the room was still warded against visitors, but the spell died out shortly after Daemon left, as did the spell connecting it to Hell. Now, it’s just a normal room. A hoarder’s room, still piled high with all his knickknacks that neither I nor Minerva had the heart to remove. Both of us knew he was always coming back somehow, some way.

“No,” she says, her eyes watering. “It’s you he wants to see. Be gentle with him, Annie. I know you’re still angry with him about the sleep-feeding, but—”