With a mental nod, Shalise said, I suppose so. At her words, the brick wall melted away.
Prax stalked off down the hallway, grumbling under his breath as he went.
When they finally reached the main entryway–Shalise had to open the giant gate–they found three people standing on the other side.
Devon was one of them–as she guessed–but the other two would have had Shalise’s eyebrows halfway up her forehead had she had any control over her body. Professors Baxter and Lurcher? Why are they here?
“Professors Baxter and Lurcher,” Prax repeated. “Why are you here?”
The voice that came out of her mouth was hers, no doubt about that, but it was tainted with Prax’s lack of proper inflection. His question came more as a statement than any real question.
Devon and Professor Lurcher stiffened in an almost identical manner. Professor Baxter, however, took half a step forwards. “Shalise?”
“That isn’t her,” Devon said. “Even discounting the physical changes, there was no recognition in that thing’s eyes when it saw us.”
“Partially correct,” Prax said. “Shalise is here, though not in control.”
Professor Baxter pulled back, giving Prax a glare.
A glare that Shalise could almost feel. It wasn’t a very nice glare. The professor’s arms were shaking. One of which, Shalise noted, had her silver dagger gripped tight with white knuckles.
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing irreversible.”
I hope.
Prax ignored her. “Though the situation is unusual, but she is alive and well. Very noisy too. I assure you, this situation is not by either of our choices. Shalise seems to be under the impression that you mortals had some insight I lack.”
“The nun said you had a familiar brand, but the demon is in control?” Devon scratched at his scraggly goatee. “Let’s see it.”
Shalise gave a mental sigh as Prax gripped the already torn strap of the dress and pulled. The fabric tore right down the middle, revealing a full half of her chest, including the mark.
So much for wearing clothes.
Professor Lurcher immediately spun to one side, averting his gaze. Professor Baxter first glared at Prax, then at Devon.
Who, notably, did not turn away. Rather, he walked forwards and knelt down right in front of Prax.
A scary look came over Professor Baxter as Devon started poking and prodding around the brand. She looked about ready to stab him in the back.
“This is a regular familiar sigil,” he said, oblivious to Professor Baxter’s continuing glare. “But you are a cambion. You shouldn’t be able to take over your host. What did you do?”
“The biggest difference would be the state of her soul and my core. Neither of which were inside our respective bodies at the time of our familiar bond.”
Professor Baxter’s anger faded in the blink of an eye. Her face turned white as a sheet. “Her soul?”
“We got them back,” Prax said.
Juliana got hers back too.
Shalise’s vision rolled up to the black sky as Prax said, “Juliana as well. And everything was normal up until we regained our souls. Then, our control switched and I have been unable to break our bond thus far. I believe that my core and her soul have been muddled together.” Prax spread his arms wide as he put on a smile. “Now, mortals, what makes you so special that Shalise thinks you can do anything at all?”
Professor Baxter’s already sheet white face turned several shades paler. Professor Lurcher still faced away from them.
On the other hand, Devon scratched at his chin. “Merged souls? But you talk about her as if she were her own entity still.”
“She is,” Prax agreed.
“Fascinating. I wonder if there were a way to properly get you two tog–”
“Foster,” Professor Baxter snapped. Her voice had a slight tremble to it, but most of her paleness had vanished and had been replaced with anger. “If you say one word that does not involve returning Shalise to normal, I will personally dose you with so much memory potion that you will be unable to remember how to learn.”
Something must have happened, Shalise thought. I only ever saw Devon about three times and talked to him less than that, but I don’t think Professor Baxter was ever as angry with him as she is now.
Prax gave a subtle shrug and nothing else.
“Ylva,” Devon said after scratching at his goatee again. “It should have a way of separating their souls. Let’s carry through with our original plan of taking it to Eva’s domain, then see about contacting the damn hel.”
Prax’s emotions jumped into turmoil again. There was a sliver of hope alongside a bout of trepidation. The later was primarily focused on the idea of entering another person’s domain. “And we cannot simply bring Ylva here?”
“I’m not about to suggest that to it,” Devon said with a glance at the professors. “It will probably kill me. Or worse.”
“Eva is a neutral party,” Professor Baxter said. It almost sounded rehearsed, or perhaps something she was repeating from someone else. “She cares about Shalise, but with both you and Ylva in her domain, neither of you has to fear anything from the other.”
“And what makes this Eva so trustworthy?”
We can trust Eva.
Prax considered for just a moment before nodding his head. None of the others even had a chance to respond. “Very well,” he said. “If this is a trick, trap, or simply fails to work, I will do everything in my power to make all of your lives living hells.”
“No trick,” Professor Baxter said. “Eva is currently fetching Juliana, so she might not be there right away. However, we all just want everything to go back to normal. As long as you don’t hurt Shalise, we don’t have a problem with you.”
“Besides,” Devon said, “I don’t intend to return to Hell. Ever. This could be my only opportunity to see my subject’s domain.”
Chapter 023
Juliana sat in her seat, gripping the armrests.
This… she wasn’t sure what to call it. Farce was a word that came to mind. Whatever it was, it had gone on long enough.
By the looks of it, Eva didn’t even know how close she had come to having her skull caved in while pulling off her cowboy impression on the back of that beetle. She had missed a broken plank by mere inches.
Glancing away from the giant theater screen, Juliana frowned at Willie. He had leaned over, barely touching his seat. In fact, most of him seemed to be held up by the wires coming off of his body. The smile on his face was an almost exact inverse of Juliana’s own expression.
“Precarious situation for the young miss,” he said, not removing his eyes from the screen. “What will she do next?”
He sounds like a game show host, Juliana thought, straining to keep her eyes from rolling. “You never answered my question.”
“You never answered mine.”
“I asked first.”
“Humor me.”
Scowling, Juliana turned back to the theater screen. Eva simply stood there, atop the rubble of the building she recently fought within. After a moment, she blinked up to a nearby roof and started looking around.
A sudden gust of wind picked up her hair. She brushed a handful back, over her ear and out of her face. Black strands waved in the wind over her shoulder. With the way the permanent evening sun glistened off of her skin, she ended up looking very dramatic.
So dramatic that Juliana almost missed the movement at the bottom of the screen. The tattered remains of her friend’s skirt flipped around in the breeze. Eva gave no indication of noticing or caring.