Chapter Sixteen

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There was a reason that only witches were able to create Mouri. It was the balance of nature at work, since the magic of making them involved cursing their souls to a miserable life of immortality. It required the keepers of balance to damn their existence, to deem them unworthy of life but undeserving of the peace that death brought.

Witches held the balance, the ability to be judge, juror, and executioner all in one. The spirits held us to high standards, and withheld magic when we disgraced the blessings they gave us. While rare, it wasn't unusual to find wayward witches, witches exiled from their coven and ultimately unable to touch the magic.

If Mouri were given the ability to create more Mouri, the balance would be at risk. There would be no way to maintain that those who were turned deserved the curse placed upon them. Innocent souls would be damned, corrupted by the darkness that took hold during the transformation.

If Lazarus got his hands on a way to create an army, it wasn't likely that he would be picky about who he took, what souls he was dooming to immortality. From the looks of it, Seline had been busy building his empire, which answered a lot of questions for me. She was powerful enough to perform something like this on her own, though I had a feeling she was pulling magic from the coven as a whole when they weren't aware of it. My bloodline being in the mix meant she had access to more power than a regular witch might from her coven, though it had to have been slow work to keep the others from noticing the drain in their magic.

That only raised the question, as I glanced around the dingy living room of the abandoned home they had taken up residency in, how long had she been working with them? There were at least twenty keeping guard inside the house, and a handful more that I had seen come and go from outside, but they were much harder to keep track of. I was certain that Lazarus wouldn't have all of his men pooled to one area, he'd likely have some out scouting while the sun was still down.

While Sin and Lucas might have the ability to walk in daylight, it wasn't usual for Mouri, and it was only because of the daylight mark I had granted them that it was even possible. The mark was called Dagaz, shaped like two small triangles touching at their points, and it required the blood of a Bishop witch to protect its wearer from the sunlight. The mark could either be burned into the flesh or tattooed, but the effect was the same. As the last Bishop witch, I was the only one capable of granting the Mouri with their Dagaz, which meant that as soon as the sun was up, I'd get my first real look at Lazarus's full army.

I also had a feeling that my magic would be put to the test, and I was seriously trying to figure out how to respond to demands of daylight marks all around for his army.

I was studying the newspaper taped over the windows, chewing on the inside of my lip and trying to form some sort of plan when I felt the atmosphere in the room shift. The Mouri leaning against the wall close by stood up straight suddenly, eyes shifting from me to the front door. I didn't need to look to know that Lazarus himself must have stepped into the house. In fact, I kept my eyes on the window, pretending not to notice him, hoping that would somehow do me some good, though I was certain it would do nothing to help me in the long run. Giving him my attention felt like giving in to a toddler's tantrum, and I refused to give him what he was hoping for.

Unfortunately, I didn't get to ignore him for long. A set of hands yanked me from where I was sitting as Ethan hauled me across the room and shoved me to my knees at Lazarus's feet. He grabbed my hair, tugging my head back to look at his master, who I glowered at as best I could.

"Ahh," Lazarus said, his face fixed with a small smile and an arrogant look in his deep brown eyes. "The Bishop witch. You and I have quite a bit to talk about, don't we?"

"I don't have anything to say to you," I spat, cringing as Ethan twisted his fingers in my hair tighter.

"I'm sure," said Lazarus, glancing beyond me as if he were already bored. "I wouldn't be too bold just yet, miss Bishop. You're sitting in a room full of hungry Mouri, and I have it on good authority that every one of them would love to taste the precious, precious blood of the bloodline that began this curse. It would be an awful shame if this was how you died, don't you think?"

His words were light, but they held the weight of the threat nonetheless. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my ego from getting me killed prematurely.

"What do you want from me, then?" I asked, swallowing whatever retort I wanted to throw at him.

"I think you already know," he said cheerfully, clasping his hands in front of him and cocking his head slightly to the side. "I'm in desperate need for what you can offer me, August, and I think you're in need of what I have to offer."

"And what is it that you have to offer?" I didn't want to bargain with him, but at that moment, on my knees surrounded by my enemy with no means of escape, I had to do my best to be realistic.

"Your life."

His answer was simple, and yet he knew the power he held over me. It crossed my mind that I might have enough energy to take him down before the entirety of his undead army could stop me. It would mean my life, but without Lazarus, what did they stand for? Without a leader, they had no one to follow, and I was capable of understanding that their entire army would fall without someone to keep them in line.

"So, what then?" I pressed, calling forth whatever magic the spirits would lend me. "I give you what you want and you just let me walk? Seems unlikely."

"Of course not." His laughter rang through the silence of the space around us, and for the first time I noticed how on edge the Mouri seemed to be in his presence. "You're an asset to me, I would never be so foolish as to let you go. But the alternative...well, let's just say we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Selene can attest to the level of cruelty that I'm capable of, but she can also ratify the extent of my compassion when I'm given what I want."

"Seline is a traitor to everything our kind stands for," I spat, hoping she was close enough to hear.

"Odd," Lazarus said with a sly grin. "She said the same of you and your union with Sinclair, though I'm not in the business of opposing the outcome of such a union. You've created a great weapon, one I hope to utilize to the fullest."

I could feel the anger well up inside of me, strengthening the magic I could feel coursing through me. I was biding my time, waiting for the opportunity I needed to make use of my power. Ethan still had a firm grip on my hair and would no doubt snap my neck in an instant if he felt I was a threat to his master. I just needed enough time to make direct contact with Lazarus, to ensure that I used the magic inside of me to the fullest possible extent I was capable of.

"You won't lay a hand on him," I growled, leveling him with a look that I imagined could cut ice. "I'll kill you before you even get close enough to see him. Don't try me."

Lazarus's hand snaked out quickly with his Mouri reflexes, grabbing my throat and hauling me to my feet before I could blink. Ethan took two quick steps backwards, and I could feel my window of opportunity opening, though I wasn't sure how long I would have.

"Your threats mean nothing to me," he hissed, bringing his face down to mine until I could feel his breath on my skin. "Your life can end so quickly you--"

His words were cut off, the only sound escaping his lips was a ragged breath that sounded like he was choking. I willed all of the magic forward, feeling it flow through my body and into my fingertips--pressed solidly against a part of his exposed chest. Just as quickly as I had willed the magic forward, I pulled it all back, taking more than my own power with it.

My breath caught as I felt the magic flowing from him; the same magic that had cursed him to immortality was surging through my body, warming my skin to a level of discomfort that made a pained noise escape my throat. I had never tried turning a Mouri back, had never had a reason to even attempt it, and hadn't been ready for the amount of energy it would take. I imagined that it was taking more because he was one of the oldest Mouri to exist, and that was a lot of magic to siphon at once.

I could feel his grip on my throat loosen until he seemed to be trying to pull away from me, and noticed that no one else in the room seemed to move. In fact, it was as if time itself was standing still in that moment--

Pain seized me, and my grasp on Lazarus slipped as my body went flying away from his. I was vaguely aware of Seline moving towards me, her hands raised in front of her as she used her own magic--and mine, through the bond our coven had--to pin me to the floor. It felt as though my blood was boiling inside of me, and I heard the sound of my own scream before the rest of the room seemed to take action at the same time.

I caught sight of Ethan moving towards Lazarus where he lay on the floor before everything went black.

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