Lance is trying his hardest to remain neutral, but his lips quiver. Amber is very intentionally looking away from me, focusing on the door that leads out of her room.
I bolt out of bed, Leaf leaping with me. I toss the door open and start running, realizing I’m only wearing panties and one of Amber’s old shirts. My bare feet slap against the linoleum floor of the shop. It’s empty, but the door to the basement is wide open, confirming my fears.
I trudge down the steps, chanting hitting my ears once I’m past the threshold, Leaf almost trips me as he darts between my legs down the stairs. My bare feet touch the cold concrete of the basement. The smell of juniper, sage, and cinder is overwhelming, and the ash the size of snowflakes swirls in the air like the eye of a storm.
Four women hold hands, all of them familiar to me–even the back of Madame Albe’s head is recognizable. Yet none of them have noticed me, too focused on the spell. Past them, I see Rosier, his form wavering, turning from a solid to something else–a shadow is all I can compare it to. I hold my breath. Despite the magic changing Rosier’s form, his eyes remain–his golden gaze locked on the table of offerings as they, too, fade from this Plane.
Timing is everything–I can’t risk the coven stopping the spell, but I can’t risk missing the moment of completion. There’s no room for second guessing.
That is until Amber shouts my name from the shop. “Minnie!”
I bolt, breaking through the circle of coven members and into the magic circle. My body collides with Rosier’s, and I wrap my arms around him, shutting my eyes tight. I become part of the spell, my own form becoming some sort ofotherthat only exists in the sphere of magic. Despite this, it feels like Rosier is reaching out to me, holding onto me.
Then there’s this sudden drop, like a rollercoaster as it races down the steepest part of the track.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
MINNIE
The first thingI hear is a roaring meow.
My cheek is pressed to Rosier’s chest, and I can feel him hum. “A parting gift…” he whispers. “Memories of you in my arms.” He holds me tighter, and I force my eyes to stay closed.
“It’s not a memory,” I tell him. “I’m here.”
Silence, then another meow, Leaf nudging my ankle. Rosier’s hold on me loosens. “Minnie.”
Finally, I open my eyes. It takes a second to realize it's Rosier looking down at me. His features are the same–tall curved nose, pillowy lips, thin piercing eyes… No, wait, his eyesaredifferent. He has no whites or even any pupils, just two rivers of gold looking down at me. He still has his curls, but sticking out of them are two winding spiral horns the same night-shade black as his hair. Yet, what’s most striking is his skin; it’s a vibrant royal purple, like his skin is made of velvet. Not at all the color I expected of a devil, but it’s beautiful.
Less beautiful is the grimace on his face, showing off thick, sharp canines on the top and bottom of his jaw. I can feel his body tense as massive wings unfurl, trying to intimidate me like a cat arching its back. I’m so used to him towering over me, I didn’t notice he’s eventallernow. Not counting the horns, he’s got to be over six and a half, maybe seven feet tall. He grabs my arms, and sharp fingernails threaten to tear my skin.
“Minnie, what are you doing here?” he demands.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out, not a single sound.
He leans over now, getting his teeth right in my face as he hisses. “Minerva, you shouldn’t be here!”
The tension is cut by Leaf chirping. Looking down, I see him reaching up to bat at a fluttering toy. But it’s not a toy. The flat, heart shaped ornament is attached to a long, thin purple tail connecting to Rosier. Leaf manages to catch the flat end in his paws and bring it to his mouth, nibbling at it.
“Beast!” Rosier scolds, his tail flicking violently out of Leaf’s reach.
I cover my mouth with my hand, but it does little to stifle my laughter.
“This isn’t a laughing matter, Minnie!”
Unfortunately, this makes me laugh harder.
“You’re not supposed to be here!”
I clear my throat, trying to stop the giggles. I take a breath and am finally able to speak, though my giggles accompany the end of my words.. “I wanted… to come with you. So I did.”
Rosier’s jaw tenses. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, I did.”
His hand, moving faster than a viper, grabs my chin and squeezes my cheeks. A familiar situation we find ourselves in, but now the tips of his long, black nails leave divots in my flesh like homemade dimples. His wings curl around us, leaving us in shadow. Rosier leans down, all the way down, his entire back bending to reach me, his nose brushing against mine.
I watch his lips but flinch when his fangs peak past his lips.
