“A truce?” I asked, watching as he stepped around his desk and took his chair.
He gestured toward the one waiting for me once he was settled, seeming to realize that if he was sitting, it would put us on even footing. I sighed, lifting my bag out of the chair and depositing it on the floor as I waved my arms dramatically.
I might do it, but I’d make it clear I thought it was stupid.
“There is no reason we need to be at odds during our time here,” he said, answering my question.
“Of course there is. You are a Vessel, and I am a witch,” I said.
Simply put, our kinds had hated one another for centuries. The Vessels had never forgiven the Covenant for what they’d done to Charlotte Hecate, and I couldn’t blame them in the end. She’d given them life, been as holy to them as the devil was.
“Are you really, though?” he asked, steepling his hands on the table in front of him. He leaned toward me; his steely gaze intense on mine as he continued with the one thing that would always remain true. “You have magic flowing through your veins. There can be no doubt about that, but you are as much a part of this Coven as I am an angel.”
“I’ve only been here a few days,” I said, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. I’d never intended to hide my hatred for the Coven, so I didn’t know why his words disarmed me so much. But they did, making it feel as if he’d stripped me down and revealed every last vulnerability.
I’d be alone. For the rest of my life, whether it was here or in another place after I fled, I would do so with nothing but the clothing on my back and hopefully a bag of Hecate bones.
The life of the necromancer was a lonely one. The pulse of death was far too much for most to tolerate being near.
“You have no intention of joining the Coven in truth. You use magic they’ve forbidden—magic that you and I both know needs to be restored in order for the world to come back into balance,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
The motion dragged my attention up to the portrait at his back. The morbid image of Lucifer’s fall from grace stared me in the face. Where the feathered wings of an angel had once been, there was only the open, gaping wounds where they’d been torn from his flesh.
A single tear dropped down the figure’s face, his stunningly beautiful features twisted in pain. His eyes glowed bright gold, the harsh set to his features betraying every moment of his rage.
He was like nothing I’d ever seen before, emitting such power from a painting that the breath caught in my throat. That was who I risked the wrath of if I somehow managed to undo the Coven and the Vessels. Sending Lucifer’s minions back to Hell if He didn’t desire it would bring untold danger upon myself.
“It’s there to serve as a reminder,” Gray said, his words both sympathy and accusation all at once. “That no matter how pretty the shell may be, we are all capable of great and terrible things.”
“That sounds like it came from a fortune cookie,” I said, turning my stare back to him. I shifted my face back to that emotionless blank canvas I had spent years perfecting, running my damp palm over my skirt to hide the only remaining sign of the fear that the portrait had given me.
“My point,” he said, his voice becoming far less patient as he stood from his desk, “Is that you are capable of thinking for yourself. You know as well as I do that the Coven has fallen to ways that are not natural, and that for whatever reason, the Covenant is determined to encourage that corruption. Two family lines have nearly been erased as a result of it. Perhaps you are exactly what this school needs right now, Miss Madizza.”
“How so?”
“You’re brave enough to make a deal with the devil? Take me instead,” he said, holding out his hand. He raised it to his mouth, nicking his thumb with a fang until a drop of blood welled there. “Help me bring the Coven back to the old ways and restore the balance before it’s too late.”
I paused, considering as the scent of earth and vanilla filled the air. “What’s in it for me?”
“You don’t wish to see the Coven restored to what it was meant to be?” he asked, his lips parting. The center was stained with blood, making it look poutier than normal.
The irrational urge to lean forward and lick it from his mouth rushed through me. “I care very little for what happens to the Coven.” It was true, though what happened to the earth as a result of their behavior was a different story. I couldn’t restore every plant on my own.
Even my magic was not that vast.