It was too big on him.

However, as fate would have it, it would fit Daemon perfectly.

“Heat water for Marian’s bath,” Daemon commanded. “We must soothe her aches. And see if this dwelling has medicine. She is in pain.”

Jellan’s eyes flashed his displeasure at his service, but he said nothing against it, nodded, set the clothing on the floor beside Daemon and moved away.

“And get these bodies out of here,” Daemon added.

“I am but one man, Daemon,” Jellan reminded him.

Daemon twisted his head to look at the priest. “Then we shall have to find you some assistance. But for now, it’s just you, and your standing there, glaring at me is not seeing to the things I’ve asked you to see to.”

No, this Beast was not simple, docile, innocent and easily led.

Jellan bowed his head and scurried off.

Marian would have smirked, but such was the direness of the situation, she could not even take enjoyment in Jellan’s subjugation.

“He, well he…” Daemon began, stroking her cheek. “Black of soul, is he.”

Marian lay still in his arms, held to his body, seated in his lap, and stared at his face for she felt something had changed about him and she’d experienced enough change from him that morn, she could take no more.

“You,” he whispered, still stroking her cheek. “I regret you. You were guided to your darkness.”

“I don’t…” She swallowed. “What do you speak of, Daemon?”

“If I did not need you for what must be done for me to succeed this time, kill the gods, claim their kingdom, I would have used you like the one in the kitchen and then put you out of your misery.”

Kill the gods?

What gods?

“Daemon,” she whispered, “what do you intend to do?”

“They created us; they cannot forsake us. They will learn this time.”

Us? she wondered.

Who was us?

“But you could have veered away from the darkness. You did not,” he murmured, studying her face. “This was your mistake.”

Oh, Gods.

“Daemon—”

“Thank you for releasing me, my witch.”

After saying that, he stood.

And when he did, Marian rolled out of his lap, onto the floor with a painful thud that forced a grunt from her before she emitted a groan.

She watched him walk out the front door into the rain.

Then her gaze fell again on the dead child.

The child he killed.

The child was, perhaps, four.

Her Beast.

The one she’d helped ascend.

Marian closed her eyes.

“By the gods,” she whispered. “What have I done?”

119

The New

The Great Coven

Silbury Henge, Argyll Forest

AIREN

In the clearing of the forest, the first flash of light came before the first of the five standing stones.

The light was crimson.

The witch Nandra of Firenze.

The next was green.

Rebecca of Wodell

Then came marine-blue.

The witch Lena of Mar-el.

The last was coral.