such a sharp bolt of awareness that she lurched upright on the bench. In the years since she’d lived in cold climates such as this, she’d never felt a demon’s presence so powerfully.
She shivered, lacing her hands tightly together as she searched for his shadow.
Maybe he came without the draw of her vision because she’d summoned him, pulling him from whatever dark beyond where he lurked. She didn’t know. She’d spent her life running and hiding from demons. She didn’t know what happened when you actually welcomed one with open arms.
Or maybe he came because she’d removed the necklace. Without holy water, salt and milk, she was an easier target.
She broke from the bench, still trembling as she staggered to her feet. But not from the cold. His heat was all around her, blistering her with renewed force. She hugged herself tightly and forced herself not to run.
A guttural voice taunted in her ear, the demon tongue instantly translating itself in her head. “Now I’m almost thinking you want me here, little one, because this is simply too easy.”
She turned her head slightly, angling to better view him, a shadowy shape just beginning to take form in front of her. She stiffened but showed no other sign that she was even alarmed at his presence—this thing, this shadow that was not shadow.
It was him. The same demon from before. She tried not to shudder as she gazed at his repulsive image … tried not to consider that this thing would be inside her head soon enough. That he would own her soul.
“You must like the cold,” she taunted back. “You keep showing up here.”
“No, I must like you,” his hissing voice countered, snake’s tongue darting to his nonexistent lips. “I can’t seem to stay away from you.”
She inhaled a difficult breath. “It seems I may need you, after all.”
“Indeed?” His large snake’s head nodded as though in approval.
And yet he didn’t seem surprised. In fact, his slit eyes gazed down at her with a smug knowledge, like he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. She had done precisely as expected, and she wondered if there was something intrinsic to her. Something that marked her over other witches. Did demons know which witches would be most susceptible? Her aunts had never been particularly harassed. Not like her mother. Not like her.
It made her ill to think that she may have been headed to this moment all along—no matter how she tried, how she fought it. This was always going to happen. Always going to be.
But it wasn’t over, she quickly reminded herself before despair crept over her.
This demon wasn’t going to get an easy possession out of her. She’d move to Antarctica if she had to. See how much he liked that. If he wanted to use her as an instrument for evil, she wasn’t going to give him a lot of opportunity to do that.
The demon continued in his slithering voice, “Well, let’s proceed then.” His scaly flesh shivered—shuddered, actually, and she knew he couldn’t last in this temperature for much longer. “A witch’s soul never comes for free. I’m aware of that. What do you want, my dear? Name your price.”
She sucked in a deep breath. Nothing was more important than this moment. She had to get it right.
“There’s a little girl, Aimee.” She moistened her dry, cold lips. “She’s been bitten by a lycan.”
“Ah.” The demon nodded, his serpent tongue darting out in a way that made her stomach twist and tighten sickly. “The poor little one is infected and you want me to reverse the curse on her.”
“Yes, but no tricks. I want her to be the same healthy, human girl she used to be. I want her returned safely to Niklas, a—” She stopped, unsure what to say about Niklas. Unsure what she should say.
What was Niklas to her? Everything, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. Everything you’re losing. Everything you ever wanted and never knew.
She swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat. The last thing she wanted this demon to think was that Niklas meant something special to her. The demon might use him to get to her when he discovered just how uncooperative she was.
“Niklas?” he prompted.
She forced her shoulders into an indifferent shrug. “Yes. He’s staying at the Fairmont Hotel,” she finished. “He knows the girl and will take care of her—see her safely home.”
“That can all be arranged.”
She stabbed a finger in his