As Above, So Below

by Dana Isaly

That little voice in the back of my mind won’t shut up. And when I look up into the night sky, I see why. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six crows fly overhead. “One for sorrow, two for mirth. Three for a funeral, four for birth. Five for heaven, six for hell,” I murmur.

I immediately don’t like the energy that’s pouring off him in waves. It’s like every single negative thing I’ve felt tonight has culminated here, in his presence.

“Did you know that your name means both darkness and purity?” I nod. “Many think you cannot be both, but you need the dark to be able to see the light, and the light to be able to see in the dark.”

“Suffering is good for the soul, Branwen. Be brave. Remember, sometimes to reach the light, we must manipulate the darkness.”

But that’s no excuse. It’s no excuse to turn on those you love just because you’re scared. Maybe if those people would’ve stood up for you, he wouldn’t have won. And then no one would be hurt except him. Cowards. All of them.

“I know you wanted a savior. But a demon is what you got, witch.”

“My demon,” she whimpers, trying to lift her hand out to me. I smile down at her. “That’s right. Pray to me.”

“No one will ever hurt you again.” He kisses just above where I want him. “Or I’ll burn them alive.”

“You taste like my favorite sin.” “Which is?” He grins. “Lust.”

“If I’m alive, it’s only because you need me,” he says with a moan. His grip tightens on my hair. “And if I’m good, it’s only for you.”

“Just say the word and we’ll go.” He brushes my hair from my face. “All the devils in the Underworld can’t stop me from giving you what you want. Say the word and we go.”

I’m not sure if it’s the fatelines talking or the trauma bonding, but he feels like home. A home where I don’t have to worry if he’s using me, or talking shit about me behind my back, or only here because he wants the attention of helping someone who needs it.

“Why do witches get all the fun powers?” he asks, walking past me to leave. “Because demons would abuse it,” I tell him.

“I want you here,” he says, his voice quiet. He smiles down at me when our eyes meet. “I always will want you here, with me, by my side. I’m selfish enough to admit that but not so much as to demand it from you.”

“We have until tomorrow,” I counter. “We have all the time in the world, Branwen.” He kisses my hand again. “We’re immortal.”

I’ve always been someone who avoided confrontation, never wanting to upset someone else just because I was uncomfortable. But I’m not that person anymore. You make me uncomfortable, I’ll make you uncomfortable.

In whatever way a demon can, I love you. And I want you to choose me.” His hands slide down around my throat and squeeze. “I need you to choose me.”

“And if that’s how you repay kindness,” I tell them, squatting so that I’m at eye level. “Then your karma is going to be a bitch.”