“Youarea rebellious one, aren’t you?” He laughed again, but it’d lost some of its earlier bravado. “You’ve spent too much time with demons.”
“We could solve that right now.” I jerked my head toward the door. “Let me walk, free and clear. Your absence from my life would mean one less demon to mess with my head.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Explain it again, then. I’m new here.” I took a step closer, forcing him to look up to see me—to reveal the truth in his eyes. I unnerved him. He couldn’t figure me out. He didn’t like that one bit.
“If you refuse your assignments,” he sad, tapping the table for emphasis. “I return your soul to hell. There will be no brokering for its release after that. No deals, no trades, no begging, no rescue missions mounted by the bumbling, craven men who can’t seem to think clearly where you are concerned. That, my dear,willbe your eternity.”
I watched him carefully. For a guy who owned a casino, his poker face left much to be desired.
He was totally bluffing.
“Do you think that scares me?” I asked, pressing my advantage. “That black, empty place Liam pulled me out of? That’s not hell, Sebastian. Hell is turning your back on the people you care about and living the rest of your days knowing you could’ve helped them, but failed. Hell is watching someone you love burn before your eyes, powerless to save them. Hell is losing the people who matter to you most, no matter how hard you try to hold on. So let me tell you something, Prince.” I leaned forward, making him flinch. “I’d rather spend alifetimein your hell than one more minute in mine.”
He lifted his hand, and a wave of power hit me, shoving me backward. I managed to stay on my feet, but barely.
I righted myself, and Sebastian smiled, thinking once again he’d gotten the upper hand.
“That’s very poetic, girl, but this isn’t open mic night at Luna’s Café. Nor is this a negotiation. You’re mine, and you’re—”
“Done.” I drew myself up to my full height and stared him down, my voice unwavering. “Send me back to your so-called hell. Now.”
“Don’t play games with me. You won’t like the outcome.”
I glared at him, wondering how far I could push him. This was a dangerous game, with stakes higher than any I’d ever fought for.
But that was exactly why I couldn’t back down. It was too important.
“You need to maintain the status quo in our communities, Sebastian. This isn’t about games or me rebelling or anything like that. It’s simple math.”
“Okay. Let’s say, for curiosity’s sake, I consider your request.” Sebastian glared at me for much longer than necessary, letting the echo of his forced Southern drawl creep over my skin like spiders. When I could no longer hold back my shiver, his eyes glinted at my response, and he offered me a twisted smile. “What exactly are you offering me, witch?”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, seeking reassurance from the magic inside.
This was it. My one chance at getting this right. So many had come to negotiate at this table, and so many had walked away in chains. I couldn’t let that happen.
“I will do as you ask,” I said calmly, opening my eyes. “I’ll fulfill the contract and complete the assignments to the letter. I’ll summon and bind my ancestors—no loopholes, no tricks.”
Sebastian grunted. “And in return?”
I’d kept a respectable distance from him since he’d hit me with that invisible smackdown, but now I approached the table again. “In return, you’ll allow me to return to Raven’s Cape with Ronan and Darius, liberate Jonathan’s prisoners, and deal with the immediate threats facing the witches and the supernatural community at large.”
“I see. And how long will that take?”
“However long that takes,” I said. “Unfortunately, there’s not a manual for these things.”
Sebastian shook his head. “And you think I can divert my resources for this little rescue mission of yours? Help you save the day and skip off into the sunset, everybody’s favorite little heroine? A poster child for all the witches across the land?”
“No, Sebastian. I don’t need you to help me.” I leaned forward on table, looking straight into his evil eyes. My magic surged, the electric hum of it making the hairs on my arms raise and the candle between us flicker. “I just need you to stay the hell out of my way.”
Thirteen
Emilio
From the outside, The Phoenix’s Flame metaphysical shop was an unassuming little cottage tucked into the woods about fifteen minutes outside of the Cape, complete with a garden full of gnome statues and a curl of smoke rising from the chimney. There wasn’t even a sign outside—this was strictly a word-of-mouth business.
Inside, the place was a witch’s paradise. The main level had been opened up, filled with a mismatched collection of metal, wood, and glass shelving, display cases, and tabletops, each piece from a different era yet somehow working together seamlessly. Every surface displayed tools of the craft—crystals, wands, incense, books, DVDs, statues, beads, bells, cauldrons, jewelry. An entire wall of built-in bookcases was devoted to fairy, gnome, and gargoyle statues. A massive counter at the center of the store held a sprawling Tarot card collection that Gray would’ve loved.
