I closed my eyes for a second and tried to manifest something. “No.”
She added another drop of blood and repeated her prayer. I closed my eyes, concentrating hard for another minute. Then two. There was still no inner urge to go to her, to do her bidding. I felt as I always did. Just as I’d suspected. I thought of my mother, the Crone, being summoned by any creature or being who spilled blood and commanded her to their side. It was laughable. Blood was used to summon a demon, but only in conjunction with several other items. Most of which were specific to each demon prince along with a specific spell.
“Maybe it’s because you’re not fully restored.” Fauna sounded unsure. “Or maybe the sacrifice wasn’t large enough.”
I shook my head. “Before you start sacrificing anything larger, I’d like to test it out on my sister. She is fully restored and should heed the call if the magic of a blood sacrifice does, indeed, work for a goddess.”
Fauna’s brows raised nearly to her hairline. “If his majesty finds out—”
“I’ll take full responsibility. Please,” I added when she hesitated, “try.”
“I hope we both don’t live to regret this.” She inhaled deeply and pressed her blade into another fingertip. “I pray to the goddess of death to come forth.”
Tension crept into the chamber, making the air feel suddenly colder. The shadows cast by the candles and lanterns even seemed to flicker more menacingly. Death could be lurking, but it could simply be my imagination willing it. We both waited, breath held, for something to happen. A strained moment passed, followed by another. There was no Vittoria. And thankfully no Wrath coming to break up our goddess-summoning test.
I exhaled. “I’ll try with my blood.”
With my own dagger, I pricked my finger. Instead of allowing a drop to fall into the flames, I stood and held my hand over the skull. “I bid the goddess of death to come forth.”
Part of me believed the wind gusted outside a bit harder, that the elements reacted in some monumental way to the magical request, but I knew deep down nothing had changed. Even with my half-goddess blood, it wasn’t enough to summon a full deity. Which meant the witches either knew that and had purposely misled their enemies, or they’d been misled themselves.
“I need to get to the Shadow Realm.” I turned back to where Fauna still perched on the edge of her stool. “I’m going to ask my sister what she knows about spells cast with blood.”
And then I’d find a way to cast another truth spell on her and see what other secrets she’d been keeping. Mainly, if she happened to know where a certain commander had gone.
It took more time than I’d like to have spent searching through grimoires—and Fauna even managed to persuade me to take a break to visit the Pit to see one of the fights—but eventually we came across an incantation to summon a werewolf. We gathered all the ingredients, then Fauna watched quietly as I set it up and began the summoning.
Within the salt circle, I sprinkled wolfsbane on the north, south, east, and west points before whispering the spell. Unlike when I’d summoned Wrath, the results of this circle were nearly instant.
Domenico appeared in a snarling blast of magic that almost knocked me backward. He whipped around, eyes blazing as he took in the tower chamber. The salt circle. My demon friend who gave him a taunting finger wave. And then he turned to me. His claws shot out.
“You’re going to regret this, Shadow Witch.”
“If I received a coin every time I heard that, Greed would have cause for alarm.”
“He already has plenty of cause to fear me.”
My cold gaze traveled over the shifter, similar to the way he’d looked me over earlier last night. It was hard to believe only a few short hours had passed since I’d last seen him. His shirt was missing, and his trousers were half-untied. Fine hair trailed into his pants, between sculpted abdominal muscles. Some scars that looked like claw marks marred otherwise unblemished olive-toned skin. His dark hair was rumpled either from sleep or some other bedtime activity he’d been engaged in. The idea of ruining his tryst gave me far too much petty enjoyment.
“I wish to speak with Vittoria.”
Domenico opened his mouth—likely to argue—then abruptly snapped it shut. He didn’t want to say yes, but he couldn’t refuse. Vittoria had clearly stated she wanted me to call on her.
“Fine.” His attention cut to Fauna. “She stays here.”
That suited me well enough. Fauna and I had already decided that she’d stand guard over my body while my spirit traveled to the Shadow Realm. I lifted a shoulder and dropped it, as if I’d considered his request. “Very well. Are you ready?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he snapped, then motioned for me to come closer. I took a halting step forward, then paused, surveying him again. Domenico gave me a nasty look. “I need to attach our bodies.” At my expression of horror, he snarled, “My claws will do. Stand in front of me.”
Against my inner warning to not allow the werewolf’s instruments of death anywhere near my body, I did as he requested. Domenico turned me until my back was pressed to his chest. He hooked his arms under mine, sinking his claws into each shoulder. My teeth clenched from the pain, but I refused to let the shifter feel me flinch.
“My lady. Wait.” Fauna took a step toward us, her expression one of concern when the werewolf’s claws dug in further. I’d only ever been summoned to the Shadow Realm before, I’d never been the one to initiate, so I hadn’t known what to expect in terms of magical payment.
Yet something didn’t quite make sense.
My teeth gritted together as his claws lengthened, nearly hitting the bone. “Why do our bodies need to be attached to enter the spirit realm?”
Domenico brought his mouth to my ear, “Who said anything about the Shadow Realm?”
In a glittering whirl of power, a portal appeared. Before I could twist to Fauna, Domenico hoisted me up and jumped through. Magic sucked and pulled at me—it felt as if we’d stepped into the heart of a hurricane and the only thing tethering me to my body was the shifter’s claws. Almost as quickly as it had begun, we stepped out of the portal and into a room I knew well. Any disorientation I’d felt from the portal disappeared almost instantaneously.
Domenico released me and moved away, watching as my attention darted around the space. Limestone walls and floors. A little cabinet set into a corner that I knew contained cooking supplies, two cutting boards, knives, bowls. I was in the monastery. In the very room Antonio and I had last made bruschetta together. Right before my world upended. A wave of sadness hit me when I thought of my old friend and how brutally he’d been killed.
“Blood and bones.” I pressed a hand to my shoulder and glanced sharply at the werewolf. “Why are we here?”
“You wanted to speak with your sister. This is where she is.”