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Still finger combing the tangles out of my hair, I called out, “Who is it?”

Was it River? What would I do if it were?

Open the door and my robe at the same time?

No, of course I wouldn’t do that.

I was supposed to stay as far away from that guy as I could and still reside in the same small town. A Herculean feat, but I’d never shied away from a challenge before.

Okay, that was a blatant lie I kept telling myself, but whatever.

“It’s Daruka,” the person called out. “I’m⁠—”

I opened the door. “Not River,” I blurted.

Daruka arched her brows. “Interesting greeting.”

Ignoring her comment, I focused on her aura, trying to determine what she was. Not human and not a witch, certainly. But what else…

“A mermaid?” I canted my head. “Wow. I’ve never met a mermaid before.”

“And I’ve never met someone who worked out that aspect before the demon side.”

Now that she pointed it out, when we’d linked arms earlier, I had felt power. Lots of it.

“Guess I’m off my game,” I said.

“Nah. I suspect it’s because I’m happy. Tends to pull the mermaid side to the surface, keeps the demon under wraps.”

Sure would be nice to keep my sketchy magic under wraps. I mean, I tried but clearly failed all too regularly if I was now a resident of Arrythmia, Texas, a.k.a. last resort for failed monsters.

I almost let myself spiral into despair—again—except every single person I’d met was here for the same reason, and so far, all of them were pleasant enough. Even River, when he wasn’t busy glaring at me.

Maybe, instead of being some sort of detention center for those of us who could not manage on the outside, this place was more of a haven?

If River weren’t here, I might even be able to convince myself of that.

“Wait. That tattoo on Asmoday’s arm. Is that you?” The drawing was gorgeous. So detailed, so real.

She grinned. “Yep. River drew it for him. At the time, he had seen me only once in my mermaid form and yet still was able to create that stunning piece of art.”

My shoulders slumped. Why did every path in my life come back to the damn phoenix?

Daruka thrust a garment bag at me. “Here. Queenie says this is your outfit for this evening. And Matilda says she has an opening if you want to head over for a blowout and style.”

“Matilda?”

Daruka nodded. “She’s a gorgon. She owns the hair salon.” She fluffed her own blue locks. “She does an amazing job.”

“One of the three sisters,” I said, although I didn’t recall one of them being named Matilda.

“You know your Greek mythology,” Daruka said approvingly. “Yes, Matilda is one of the sisters. She was constantly mistaken for Medusa, which, as you can imagine, was not good for her ability to keep her head on her shoulders. That’s how she eventually ended up here.” Daruka waved, presumably to encompass the entire town. “I recommend not bringing it up. Tends to get her snakes riled,” she added, pointing at her head.

I got the message. No mention of the gorgon who had a terrible tendency to turn people to stone. Except…

“How does Matilda avoid doing what her sister was so fond of doing?”

“She wears special glasses coated with a spell, which allows her to see without, you know.” Daruka wiggled her fingers in my face.