I don’t believe in psychics. Sure, I believe in God, the devil, and demons, too. But foresight? That seems like a bit of a stretch. So how did she know? Has she been stalking me?
“Almost every single spell in that book is rumored to be a summoning spell, a way to contact something stronger than yourself for help. So, did you?” Madam Lu pushes.
I swallow roughly, my eyes locked onto hers like she’s the only life raft in an ocean full of man-eating sharks.
Atlas goes completely still beside me.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice carrying throughout the entire room.
“And what did you ask for?”
“I asked… I asked for it to save my brother,” I admit.
“Okay.” Madam Lu nods thoughtfully. “And what diditsay?”
My eyes dart to Atlas, who is watching the tablecloth before us with wide, panicked eyes.
I think… I think he feels guilty.
“This isn’t your fault, darling,” I tell him, but as I reach for his hand, he pulls it away.
“Please, Atticus, answer my question,” Madam Lu requests.
I take in a large inhale and confess my sins. “It asked for ten years of my life in exchange for protecting him. But after the deal was done, it told me the protection would only last ten days.”
“Shit,” Julian hisses, reaching around my back to grip Atlas’s neck in a firm, grounding touch.
Envy twists within me, green and vicious.
“Which ten years did it ask for?” Madam Lu asks.
“Sorry?” My brow furrows, my hands trembling on my lap.
“As in, was it asking for ten yearsnowor later—and what will it do with them?”
“I… I don’t know. It didn’t specify,” I admit.
“You made a deal with a demon and didn’t get the specifics?” Julian grills, narrowing his eyes at me.
I glare back; I willnottake shit from Julian Walsh, the brother stealer. “Sorry, I was too busy writhing in fuckingpainto ask for the details, Julian.”
“Atticus!” Atlas shouts.
“Wait—pain?” Madam Lu interjects.
“Uh, yeah. A few minutes after the deal was struck, a horrible pain coursed through me until I passed out,” I explain.
“I heard his scream from my room,” Atlas offers quietly.
“Atticus, if you don’t mind, has anythingweirdbeen happening to you?”
“Weird?” I repeat to her, thinking of the hours I was missing from my bed.
“I feel something from him,” my brother tells her. “I get the same hot, eerie feeling I felt before. It’s been getting worse.”
“Don’t forget the random muddy shoes he keeps blaming everyone in the estate for ruining,” Julian comments.
Asshole!
