Purgatorial

Cain's POV

"Lucifer's going on a killing binge searching for you." Azazel said, for the fourth-thousand gazillion time. Huh, how did you even write a number like that? "Cain,"

I sliced him with a bored glare, pupils glinting sharply but calm as the ocean just before a storm of epic proportions broke out. He gulped silently. I saw the movement, though. I kept on staring, enjoying his stun-still pose. A heartbeat later, I was grinning. Slightly like a cat teasing a mouse.

"Has he? I thought I'd killed him." Azazel's jaw hardened. I knew he wanted to call me out. That he'd been telling me every day since I nabbed Luci's precious Nephilim, that Lucifer was laying waste to any Cambion, Vampire, Demon and Fallen he could find. "They'll never talk—they can't." I stretched my arms over my head, smirking wickedly.

Azazel's face paled like I'd just reminded him of something beyond deadly. Which, okay, I had. The strongest badasses on my team were hexed. Courtesy of me and my brilliant big brain. Coming up with new and awesome ways to kill people was exhilarating—just thinking about it gave me goosebumps. I sighed, leaning back into the couch. I didn't like sharing, but sometimes I had to pick out a few and reveal some 'state' secrets to them, because come on, I couldn't do everything by myself, or be in two places at once. Not yet, anyway. So, I needed to find a way to make sure they didn't spill any beans.

Coming up with a hex that caused hearts to inflate to the point of bursting? Genius! If I did say so myself. The others who weren't hexed? Well, they didn't know any relevant information, they didn't matter. Not that any of them mattered in the long run, they were just pawns.

"If I may ask," started Azazel, going on when I kept looking beyond him. "Did you think that spell would kill him?"

I gave a meek shrug.

"I don't care what happens to Lucifer. I got what I wanted, like I always do. If he's killing those idiots, it's their own fault for not being strong enough."

"You can't fight a war alone, even with Magic and Power. Uriel's been marked as a traitor—she's no longer a spy. Michael will send Angels after us, after you. Romeo's been gathering those we haven't reached. They'll listen to him. Especially the ones in New Orleans. He's been their leader for centuries."

"I still don't understand what you want me to do about it."

"Lucifer's proud, but his obsession with the Neph girl is stronger. If it comes down to it, he'll ally himself with Michael—"

I rubbed the back of my neck, eyes pinched in growing boredom.

"Stop beating around the bush and say what you want to say, already!" I hissed feeling tension cramping along my back, circling my neck muscles. I moved my head side-to-side trying to get rid of that kink. No good.

Azazel nodded once, daring to look into my eyes longer than usual. Which was like, five seconds.

"At the club, Lucifer underestimated you. You didn't see his full Power, what he's capable of. Not even I know how far he can go—and I've been with him since before the Fall. Him and Michael combined could—will—finish you."

I cracked my knuckles absently. The tension wasn't going away. With a lavish smile, I hopped off the leather couch. Azazel took a healthy step back. A chuckle under my breath caused him to relax, I wasn't sure why. I was feeling all clogged up—I needed to do something.

"If that's what you really think, I'll come up with a solution, Azazel." I promised easily enough, making a bee-line for the penthouse's lounge room. "Right now, Daddy's gotta blow off some steam." I whispered sinisterly, waving my hand after stepping through the doors—causing them to smack closed behind me, keeping Azazel in the living room.

This hotel was pretty sweet. Having Vampires came in handy when you wanted to have the best pad. I could've just killed everyone working and staying here, but this was Earth—police got called in and news vans... Humans made a real drama-show out of deaths. This way was easier. No one got to come up to the penthouse unless I called and no one asked questions or for money. Compulsion at its finest.

"So, I was thinking," I intoned loudly, marching up to the small bar. "We haven't really made any progress. I'm getting a little... upset. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love testing pain limits as much as the next guy, but—" reaching the bar's counter, I bent over it reaching for a bottle of Vodka. I got the cap off, whirling around. "I'm not known for my patience."

All the way across the lounge, was a bleeding girl. She looked about fifteen or sixteen—who cared? She was a Psychic. One of my implants found out about her, about what she could do, back in New Orleans. I think Romeo took her there for safekeeping.

My lip curled on one side. So much for being safe.

"Aw, talk to me sweetheart. Things aren't nearly as fun when you people don't talk—seriously." I taunted lightly, taking a large swig of Vodka. It streamed down my throat leaving a warm path that pooled in my stomach. "Ah," I sighed glancing at the bottle, shaking my head. "Now here's something I really like about my healing, I can drink as much as I want and I won't get drunk. How about you? Ever gotten drunk?"

Still no answer. Huh. How rude, she wasn't even looking at me.

I put down the bottle, walking leisurely over to where she was. I took my time, appreciating my art in the form of blood splotches. I was taking it easy with her, a few superficial cuts on her arms and legs, I couldn't have her bleeding out—not when I needed answers. I could tell a Vampire to compel her, she hadn't been strong enough to resist the compulsion in the beginning, much less now.

But where would be the fun in that? Ha!

Finished with surveying the bloody handprints she'd left on the wall, I crouched in front of her. She moved. Trying to scramble away like a scared animal—I laughed.

"You've got nowhere to run." I grabbed hold of her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine. Through slick ebony hair I saw her gaze, it was darting to the blood on the floor. "I can always make you bleed more, you know. It's just that I get bored really, really fast. So I have to take my time, otherwise my toys break. I don't like when that happens—I like to control when they get broken."

The little Psychic tried to turn her face away. No way, doll. I kept it in place by digging my fingers into her skin, drawing a whimper out of her when I leaned in.

"Tell me what 'two halves of the same piece' mean?" She made to shake her head, but my grip was far too strong. A little more and her jaw would snap under my fingers, I smiled at the lovely thought. My Power was swirling all around me, like death's aura awaiting another victim to up our body count. Not yet, I whispered to it sweetly. "To me it sounds like gibberish, but I think you can tell me. I heard whispers about that in Hell, no one ever explained to me what it meant, but I need to know."

A soft sob left her and finally she talked—aw, so much more fun when I could hear the despair.

"W-why...?"

I chuckled darkly. I wasn't sure she understood who asked questions here. What was the harm in telling, though? Once I got what I wanted from her, she'd be another death on my long list.

"Well, I can use Magic. And Power. I know, you've never heard of someone like me—I'm awesome and blah, blah. Anyway, I've found a way to steal someone's Power and add it to mine. Why? Because the more Power I have, the stronger my healing ability. If I can heal from anything, and I do mean anything—I'm an overachiever—there's no limit to what I can do with Magic." I let a nice dosage of what I thought sounded like dismay into my voice, throwing my free hand across my forehead in a dramatic gesture. "But alas, I'm a mortal. And like any mortal, I have a mortal soul. Which truly sucks ass, because there's only so much Power my soul can handle. It'll degenerate my body, slowly, causing it to break down."

The girl choked a breath, shaking, "I... I don't understand..."

I groaned, frustrated. I hated whiners. They were so weak and pathetic. I couldn't remember ever crying—oh yeah, I was a psychopath. I couldn't actually cry. Well, I could force myself if I really wanted to.

"I can't believe it. It's staring you in the face! Really. Does your brain ever stop taking holidays and work properly?" I shoved the girl back, her head banging on the wall. She hissed in pain. "I need to convert my soul—my stupid mortal soul—into an awesome immortal one. You know, the ones that can handle infinite Power and have endless energy, never die even when their bodies give out? That kind of conversion."

I got up. The tension in my body was crazy now, I felt like a wire strung to tight and was about to snap.

"I know a ritual that can do that—can turn my soul immortal. I figured out everything I need... except for that line. Which is a big setback, since I need to sacrifice these so called 'two halves of the same piece'. I hate old language, couldn't have manuscripts been written by sane people? Geez,"

I zoomed towards the bar grabbing the Vodka and drinking fiercely, hoping to relieve some tension. I knew what would get rid of it, though. It would do like a charm, like every other kill had. Pace yourself, Mom used to say. Though, she used to say it when I ate too fast—I shrugged, I didn't think she'd mind if I applied it now. Heck, I thought licking my lips, she'd be proud that I was following any advice from her at all. I rolled my eyes remembering her nagging, What have you done, Cain? He was your father! You're this, you're that—I've raised a monster!

You'd think she'd say something clever before I killed her. But no, she'd cried over my little sister's body and thrown out obvious conclusions and asked strange questions. Why had I killed my sister? Hey, I hadn't told Adam to rat me out about having killed the neighbor's cat. When he told on me, the gig was up. It felt liberating. I didn't need to pretend to be a good boy, go to school or care about them—seriously, I should thank Adam. I killed them all in one night. And, in a way, I did thank my little brother. I saved him for last.

Aw, I smiled at the memories of him trying to crawl away when it was obvious the knife I'd jammed into his back made it impossible for him to walk. Good times.

Shuffling caught my attention. My purple eyes set on her like a snake's, immobilizing her with fear. What was her name? I knew it sounded pretty... like a flower or...

"Jasmin?" She showed no signs of recognition. Not that, then. Maybe not a flower, but still pretty... "Jade—that's it, right?" No vocal confirmation needed, her eyes focused on instinct. "Yeah, okay. Let's see. I know you were a slave back in Hell, I know Cameron brought you with him—why, I'll never understand—so, how would you like to make a deal with the Devil?"

Her bottom lip trembled. Again. I resisted to speed to her and rip her head from her shoulders.

"W-with... with Lucifer?" She asked in a small, annoying voice. Getting on my nerves with each second.

"No," I flared, sending the bottle crashing to the floor. She curled tighter into a ball. "With me. Forget Lucifer—he's old news, I'm the real deal." I combed a hand through my hair, calming myself. Ha, like it would work. "Now, about that deal... I've known Cameron for a long time, I had his family killed—well, his mother—he killed his father all on his own." I heaved a cold, inhuman laugh. "I thought he'd be fun to have on my side—he's powerful—but he just never gave in. Pretending to be human and watching out for that twin brother of his… Then, came that little girlfriend—Nina. I killed her family. I liked it when they told me she'd killed an Angel in cold blood—and then, when she killed Helena? I started to understand what Cameron saw in her—I really thought they'd tip over. I know sociopathic tendencies when I see them." I paused, bending down, picking up a shard of glass. Standing to full height, I lifted the shard and closed an eye, looking through it—at her. "They're failed experiments to me. I have no use for them, except... They matter to you, don't they?"

Some emotions still eluded me. Mostly because I couldn't process things like empathy or guilt, but I'd read plenty of definitions in dictionaries. Adam had been very empathic—ha, ha, compared to me a goldfish was more empathic—I'd learned how to fake enough from watching him, since we'd been one year apart. It was all very useless to me, bordering on disgusting. Usually, telling someone you'll torture them won you anything. People are scared of pain. They're even more scared of death, which is pretty idiotic, since torture can drag on for weeks, months, years.

But... Every once in awhile, a hero-type came along and tested my patience and comprehension of brain function. These so called hero-types didn't care about themselves—trying to disprove my theory on how everyone was selfish when in a life threatening situation—and made me search for other ways to hurt them. Like with people they loved.

I seriously gave the biggest eye-roll yet. Love. I felt dirty just thinking it.

Jade glanced down at her bleeding arm, nursing it close to her chest in an attempt to stop the blood flow. Pft, like that would do any good. She had three slashes on her right leg, one on her left thigh. None would kill her. Sure she could pass out from shock. She'd been a slave, though, she was used to abuse.

I lowered my arm, seeing her clear as day instead of distort through broken glass.

"It's a bitch to care, huh? I'm just assuming. Since I can't understand those emotions." She made no move as I walked back to her, glass still in hand. I crouched again, this time a foot away, lifting the glass for her to see. I lowered the jagged edge to her chin, lightly dragging it across then I took a detour down her neck, pressing harder until a thin line of red filled with blood drops. "I'm sure you've been tortured before, slavery in Hell is no joke. So, how about I go fetch your Psychic friend and cut up her beautiful long neck? Maybe I'll get lost in the moment—it happens—and cut too deep, catch her carotid..."

Jade's resolve was withering behind unshed tears. If more water leaked from those God forsaken eyes I would carve them out. Yes, my Power whispered desperately. The stress hit me again, right behind the neck, making me move my head and shoulders, trying to relieve it. I needed her for a little longer. My teeth were gritted, not a good sign. I was itching too much. I needed to do something—kill something. I could feel energy around me begging to be used. A little longer, I willed myself, drawing a sharp intake.

Okay, okay. Let's see... I could imagine I was killing someone, that would help both my problems.

"Or I could get Cameron," I continued, watching her flinch when I tapped barbed glass on her cheek. "I could let Cambions play with him. They like that, you know. I heard stories about it in Hell, of what they used to do with them. Sometimes they'd bite them and watch for hours as their organs liquefied, as they begged for their lives. Other times, they gave them the antidote only to do it again. And again, and again. How many times it took until they broke. Other times, they crucified them, using Golden Chains. They died of dehydration most times, pinned to wooden crosses for everyone in Hell to see." I made an impressed sound drawing a startled hiccup from her. "Lucifer was the one who ordered those things. I guess some stuff was pretty fun..." I said in a monotone, as other ideas came to mind. Bloodier. "I think hanging someone upside down and then sawing them in half would be better, more graphical—"

"Stop!" She whispered hoarse, looking beyond terrified. I huffed. Just when I'd been about to paint a mental image she broke—fun killer. "It's... Please, s-stop..."

"I did stop, dimwit!" Anger flared as I threw up my hands, sending the bloody shard to hell. "What I just described isn't even a fraction of what I would put your precious friends through, believe me, I'm creative when it comes to maiming and death."

Jade shook for a moment, nodding a little.

"Alright... Just... don't hurt them. Please, they—"

"If you talk now, I might not." I said softly, with a note of sheer hate. "Talk."

"Two halves of... of the same piece means a whole soul." I perked an eyebrow at her, she glimpsed at my hands. My fingers were doing their spasming thing. It happened when I went too long with nothing to do, which meant kill. Too long without killing. Or using Magic. Jade hurried, trying to stop her voice from failing her, "Souls were whole in the beginning. But they were split into a male half and a female half. There are souls that vibrate on a close frequency, those are... those are Soulmates. There are others who vibrate on complete different frequencies—those are Soul Acquaintances. Then..."

"Then?" I said sweetly, eyes flashing with unwavering hunger for destruction.

"There are souls that vibrate at the exact same frequency—in every aspect. They're Twin Flames. They're the same soul, only in different bodies."

"So, what you're saying," I began, tracing a finger over a pulsating vein on her neck, pressing a little. She made a pained face as she swallowed. "Is that I need to sacrifice a pair of Twin Flames. Two people who share the same soul?"

She bit her lip, heaving, "Y-yes,"

"That's interesting. I hope you're not lying..." I knew she wasn't, I could tell by her constant heartbeat, only jumping when I put fear into her. "Good girl," I smirked widely, revealing my every tooth. "And how do you know this? Someone led me to you, but they didn't specify how exactly you could help."

"I know because... my ability is to see the connections between souls. I call them Soul Threads, they're like ribbons that come out of people's chests. White is for Soul Acquaintances, blue for Soulmates and red is for Twin Flames."

Hmm, good thing I held off on tearing out her eyes. I couldn't be done with her, yet. What a bore. I dropped my hand from her neck to trace a slash over her thigh—she winced.

"How long would it take for you to find me Twin Flames?"

"I... I don't know! Soulmates are easier—Twin Flames are rare. Sometimes they're born on different eras, sometimes just different countries and they never meet. Even if they do, sometimes... sometimes they don't stay together because there's too much still to resolve in their lives, it's... it's a complicated relationship."

"Nothing's impossible, though," I flashed a predatory grin, bringing my fingers to my mouth—tasting her blood. Her face scrunched in utter disgust. "You'll find me a pair of Twin Flames. You will. I'm going to send you out on the streets every day, of every hour until you do. And—" I got up gracefully, "Since you're the only who can see those ribbon-things, I'll send a Vampire to escort you. He'll compel you to tell the truth. You know, just in case that pesky humanity gets in the way and you want to protect strangers from being sacrificed in my ritual."

Without a single glance her way, I walked for the double doors, heading back into the living room. Azazel was there looking like a Sentinel. I jerked a thumb over my shoulder, into the lounge.

"Go take care of her. She's going to play for Team Cain for a while. And get Simon to take her out when she's healed enough, she's going to track a few special people for me. Plus, he needs to compel her so she'll tell him if she sees Twin Flames."

Azazel knew better than to ask questions. He nodded like a good little soldier and turned on his heel to take care of Jade.

"Wait," I called, having him whirl. "Something came to me... For Lucifer."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Fallens can be summoned if you know how to draw a pentagram, that's how Deals work. Humans get their hands on them, have no idea what they're doing and—bam! Summoned a Fallen. Those summoning rituals are generic, any Fallen can respond to the call if they don't invoke a specific name."

Azazel's pale eyebrows drew together as if he couldn't believe what I was getting at. Pish-posh, this wasn't nearly my craziest idea. Oh, if only he knew what I had planned...

"You want to do a summoning ritual... You want to summon Lucifer?"

"Yep," I replied breezily, liking the idea a lot. "He'll be trapped in the circle and I can..." I trailed off. Better to keep that to myself. "I'll do something fun. Fun for me."

Azazel looked unconvinced, shifting as he crossed his arms.

"That's great and all, but you need his name."

"Ah, I have his name, it's..."

A throaty laugh burst from Azazel. He even threw his head back. Was he mocking me? He should know better than that, especially when my fingers kept twitching for me to do something with them. My hands formed fists. Azazel was my best lieutenant, for lack of better word. I could not kill him. No, Cain, you can't put his head on a spike.

"What?" I said between teeth, glowering at him. How about breaking his neck? He'd wake up with a neck pain, but my neck pain was much worse. My muscles were all cramped—I hated that feeling.

"You don't have his name. I don't know his name—not anymore. After the Fall, Lucifer got a Witch to make a potion to make us all forget his real name, because of summoning spells. He called a toast after we managed to tame the Demons and make Hell our kingdom… Little did we know the potion was mixed in the wine." Again, it struck me that before—way before my time—Lucifer might have been ingenious, sociopathic, a cold and uncaring mass. That had been a smart move. "Lucifer's the name he gave himself. Angels know his name, but there are little Angels on Earth."

"Hum," I mumbled, rolling my shoulders—halting. Yes, Angels were far away, but I had someone much better. "There's power in a name, isn't there Azazel?" I asked as an afterthought, talking to myself and smiling as I headed to the magically locked door—it only opened with my touch. "I don't want to be disturbed."

I felt my enchantment as I grabbed the knob, tickles ran over my skin, scampering up my hand and arm like little daredevils of mischief. Ha. This could be fun. I needed her alive, not unharmed. I'd put more than one spell on the room, there was a boundary spell—ensuring she couldn't break a window and throw herself out. Etna was sitting on a futon at the edge of a great bed decorated in golden tones. Her gaze was fixed on me the minute I stepped in, throwing the door closed. Her tempest eyes were ablaze with emotions I did know, anger, rage, desire to hurt and kill.

"Missed me?"

Etna curled her lip at me, like a caged lioness impaired to attack her jailer. She didn't have a Power blocker on, she could come at me, but she seemed to be studying my stance. Spotting a bowl with various fruits, including exotic ones like papaya, kiwi and my all-time favorite: grapes, I moseyed on over, plucking one and popping it into my mouth. It was big and I made a big show of chewing—oh, no seeds!

Etna narrowed her eyes and I stopped, mid-chew, gesturing to the bowl.

"Oh, where are my manners—do you want some?"

"I want you to choke on it."

I tilted my head, swallowing. I delivered a grand smile that looked friendly but was really chilling to the bone. She didn't falter. Maybe this was what Lucifer, or whatever the dude's name was, saw in her. Moxie.

I took another grape, another and another—mostly to spite her.

"What do you want?" After my little impromptu with Jade this was a nice change of pace.

"Everything, nothing. But from you—from you I want one thing. Right now." Etna flung her legs to the side, standing up. "Your boyfriend's been causing me a lot of problems. Killing my A-team... Looking for you."

Her mouth stretched into a simmering smirk.

"Has he, now? Good," the smile dropped leaving her looking like a complete Ice Queen. "I think you deserve to be knocked down a peg or two."

"Yeah, whatever," suddenly not in the mood for chit-chat. I'd been holding out too long and the hunger was too big now. "Let's just do things the hard way, okay?"

I got the satisfaction of seeing confusion crossing her face before her hands shot to her head, holding on. Her teeth gritted as she bent at the waist. Still glaring at me. I cocked my head, glaring harder, feeling more energy flowing into me and coming out as Magic, doing my bidding. The screeching inside her head would only get worse. I gathered an even bigger ball of energy and sent it her way. She crumpled on the floor, covering her ears, wanting to keep out a frequency only she could hear.

Tension eased off slowly as my Power cartwheeled, all too happy with my misbehaving. Power has a mind of its own, but its mind depends on the user. Let's just say, my Power was my one true love. I dissolved the Magic affecting her before her eardrums went kaboom and I had to wait until they healed so we could talk.

"Boy, oh, boy. That felt fantastic," I sighed pumping my fist in the air. "Whew. Fun..! Am I right?"

"Get away from me," she blew out, breathless.

"I will, I just want to ask one teensy little question. Answer and I'll be on my merry way—boy scout's honor." She gave me a look like I'd spoken another language. Right. She was from another time period, didn't know what a boy scout was. Oh well, that way she didn't know I was lying. "I need to know your boy's name—the real one."

"Why would you think I would tell you? You monster."

"You do know you're dating the Devil? Well, former Devil. Because—hello! I'm the new big bad, but still. He's done messed up, cool shit in his day."

"He... has redeeming qualities. You are... insane."

"Thank you," I winked at her, laughing as her jaw dropped to the floor. "Now," I did a flourish with my hand towards her, telling her to speak. "What's Luci's real name?"

"Go to hell."

I made a tsk sound, cocking my head, frowning lightly.

"No, I don't think that's his name. Let's try this again," energy crawled toward my right palm and I lifted it, focusing on her. I'd done this more times than I could count—picturing an invisible force wrapping around throats, lifting them off their feet as they were strangled—it never got old. "I can do this all day."

Etna clawed at her neck, but she couldn't touch Magic. Her feet were dangling two-feet above the floor, kicking out. I whispered so the energy would become stronger, a vice grip capable of crushing a windpipe. Her face was going from flushed to crimson red. Veins were popping out at her neck and temples. Her moving was slowing down even when her eyes looked like cutting edges.

Heh, this was getting boring. I made a movement with my right hand, like I was flinging something across the suite, sending Etna flying into a mirror. It shattered on impact. Quick as a cat, I focused on the shards before they fell on the ground, keeping them hovering the Neph's body.

"It's no use trying to save him from me-or anyone, for that matter." I slouched on the futon, watching her stir with satisfaction. "And who knows? I might have a proposition for your lover. It might be fun to have someone to play with—you know, someone I don't have to be careful with. I heard rumors he can regenerate from anything, even if you rip out his heart or head—he still won't kick the curb. That true?"

Her head lifted in a show of defiance, blond hair falling across her face.

"Do you ever shut up?" She wheezed out.

"Ah, ah, ah," I wagged my finger. "We're not talking about me, remember? You were just about to tell me Lucifer's na—"

Etna picked herself off the floor, coming straight at me. Jackpot. She was five seconds away from lunging at me when the shards acted like a swarm of pissed off bees and charged. Etna was a foot away when they surrounded her whole body-head to toe-like a shield, inches from piercing the roughest skin surfaces and the softest. All I had to do was want it.

Etna fell back a step and the shards moved with her. I smiled, stretching out my legs. This reminded me of that box with spikes? You put someone inside it, closed it and the person inside got impaled.

All it took was one thought: inch closer to her skin and... The mirror's broken glass moved forward, cutting into her body. Into her face, neck, torso, legs. Etna was yelling—whoops, I'd pierced one of her eyes. Like I said, sometimes I was careless. She could heal from that, though.

Blood spilled furiously from her left eye. Joining the other streams of crimson liquid as they pooled around her neck before slithering below her collarbone, drenching her blouse and edging between her breasts. I sat there for a little longer watching as she tried to get the stabbing glass out of her. When her pained gasps got down to winces, I got up, heading where she was on her knees, still trying to get the broken stuff out.

"Tell me his name and I'll get these out of you." I poked one deeper—in her neck. She shuddered violently. She'd gotten the one stabbing her eye out, so I was looking at a discolored iris, it would take time to heal. "Or..." My mouth flexed as a spell I'd memorized once, on some dusty old book.

I smirked. Gotta love photographic memory.

"Love is a damned mystery to me—don't get me wrong, it's a mystery I'm okay with not solving and this will prove me right..." I grabbed her bloodied neck, shards biting into my own skin. I barely felt it breaking, it knitted pretty quickly. Etna's blood flooded out, staining the white carpet, soaking the synthetic fibers with her life. "That will do."

She fell limply as soon as I released her, gasping like a fish whose gills had been sawed off. Seriously, she looked exactly like that—I'd done that to a live fish once. Letting her heal whatever she could with bits and pieces of glass inside her, I chanted.

"Reveal to me her most wanted, her sun, her light and dark—show me the name of whom her heart yearns for." Love was weakness. My parents had loved me. I'd killed them easily because they hadn't seen who I was: the spitting definition of a psychopath.

"No—"

I grabbed hold of her head and twisted it left. Insert 'sick crack' here. She fell to the floor leaving the room quiet. Finally. Some people just kept on talking, seriously... What was all the hysteria? It's not going to stop my spell. Etna's blood moved as Magic did its thing, guided by the spell. It rearranged—forming letters.

LUCAS

"Jackpot."