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“Right. Right. Because a house full of silent demon staff is far more terrifying than a seven-foot-tall horn-headed cryptid lurking in the drapes,” Killian teases, walking toward the fireplace and leaning his elbow against the mantle. His silver eyes gleam with amusement. “Word travels fast among the local demons, Vesper. You brought a wounded stray into your lair, locked the doors, and haven’t shown your ugly face in town for a week.”

“He isn’t a fucking stray,” I growl. My tail lashes out behind my suit jacket in a slow, dangerous arc. “He’s just a contract. A bargain made at the crossroads.”

“A bargain?” Killian snorts, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re fucking calling it now? You look like a ravenous hound holding a juicy steak it doesn’t know how to chew. You’re possessive as fuck, my friend. It’s bleeding through the town wards like smoke.”

“I’m merely holding him to his word,” I say sharply, smoothing the lapels of my dark suit. “He offered his life and his body for protection. I’m just taking what’s mine.”

“And yet you haven’t touched him,” Killian counters smoothly, his smile dropping into something more serious. “You healed him, didn’t you? I can smell the drain on your soul from here. You used pure shadow magic to stitch his flesh back together. That kind of magic takes a toll even on a high demon.”

I purse my lips, refusing to confirm it. The amount of dark energy it took to repair Bellamy’s fractured ribs and dark bruises the night I brought him here was immense. His ex had done a disgusting amount of damage to his frail frame. If I had stayed at that crossroads five minutes longer, I would have hunted down every man involved and ripped their pathetic spines out through their throats.

“You didn’t see the state he was in. I did what was necessary to preserve my property,” I state smoothly.

“Well, your property’s past is knocking on the town doors,” Killian says, his tone shifting into something darker. “That politician ex of his… Gregory Jones. He’s lost his damn mind.”

My eyes narrow. “Speak.”

“Gregory has declared a full manhunt,” Killian explains. He leans back against the mantle. “He has his private security forces and half the corrupt local police department sweeping the woods. They found TJ Farrell’s body two days ago down near the creek.”

A dark, cruel smile touches the corners of my lips. TJ was the goon my Devil Dog snapped in half at the crossroads while Bellamy was passing out in my arms. “They found what was left of him, you mean.”

“Precisely.” Killian nods. “Gregory is using TJ’s death to frame Bellamy. He’s telling the local authorities that Bellamy went crazy, murdered his guard, and fled into the woods. He put a massive bounty on his head. Alive if possible, dead if necessary.”

The air in the foyer drops several degrees in a second. Frost violently blooms across the glass arched windows. Deep inside my chest, the Devil Dog rears back and lets out a silent roar that rattles my teeth.

Protect him. Tear them apart. Rip the skin from their bones.

I hold up a clawed hand, forcing the beast down into the dark depths of my soul before it can erupt out of my skin. The last thing I need is for it to take control of this body.

“Gregory is a fucking bastard playing with forces he can’t comprehend,” I say coldly. “If he steps one foot past my ward line, I’ll let my hound rip him apart.”

“He doesn’t know Bellamy’s here yet,” Killian says. “The magical wards are holding. But Gregory is smart, Vesper. He knows the local legends. He knows people disappear near the estate borders. It won’t take him long to direct his search parties toward the property boundary.”

I adjust the cuffs of my suit jacket, my mind racing with cold calculations. “Then I need to go into town.”

Killian blinks, surprised. “Into Wraith Harbor? You?”

Before, when I was a pure demon, I could use my magic to appear human. But it’s been twenty years since I was able to take that form. “I need to see the scope of his search parties myself,” I say, walking toward the cloak rack near the door and retrieving my fitted dark overcoat. “I’ll move through the shadows. I want to hear what his men are saying. I want to know how desperate they are to find Bellamy.”

I snap my fingers, and the wolf pelt materializes on the hook next to me.

Killian looks at me, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “Such expensive, fancy suits. You finally have someone in this fucking manor, and you don’t even bother to show them off. Such a waste.”

Flexing my jaw, I toss the dark coat over my broad shoulders before placing my pelt over it. “He might be pretty, but you know I only dress for myself.”

Killian laughs. It’s a rich sound that bounces off the high stone ceiling, mocking me. “And still, you’re planning a trip into town, yet you’re going to hide in the shadows like the damn creeper you are.”

“I’m spying on these assholes. Not modeling for them,” I snap, glaring at him. “Keep your mouth shut while I’m gone. If you wake the little human, I’ll let the hound use your wraith cape as a chew toy.”

“Why don’t you just go into town, kill the politician ex, and get it over with?”

“Killing him in the street is easy, Killian. But if I tear him apart now, his paid men scatter, it draws way too much attention, and Bellamy never gets to look his nightmare in the eye. I want Gregory isolated, terrified, and standing on my threshold so my captive can watch him suffer.”

“Understood, my terrifying lord.” Killian gives me a dramatic bow, though the playful smirk never leaves his lips. “Go play stalker in the dark. I’ll make sure your gilded cage stays locked up nice and tight.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. I trust Killian. I don’t bother to answer him. I let my physical form dissolve into the floorboards, pulling the writhing shadows around me.

As I glide out beneath the oak doors and slip into the freezing rain outside, the Devil Dog within me paces back and forth against my ribs, snarling softly. It hates leaving the estate. It hates leaving Bellamy alone on that massive bed upstairs.