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Chapter One
Ven
I’m standing on a beach about to teach a yoga class, but I’m not thinking about my downward dog pose. I’m thinking about demons. Or more specifically, the demon I have to meet up with later.
A breeze comes in off the Pacific Ocean carrying the scent of salt and hibiscus. I take a deep breath of it down into my lungs. Now is not the time to be pondering the magical underworld. I’d come to Costa Rica to escape demons. Except that’s just the problem—I can’t seem to get away from them even when I try. I mean, can’t a girl just relax on the beach without demons at every turn?
But for now, I have a class to teach.
Bringing my palms together at my heart, I nod and smile to the dozen or so people standing before me. Live in the moment, Ven. “Let’s begin in mountain pose and work on our breathing.”
An hour later, I feel drastically better. My muscles are warm and loose, my thoughts are in the here and now. Late afternoon sun falls over the waves and slants across the broad deck of the Lazy Mango yoga studio, where I’ve been working the last six months or so. I wave goodbye to my students as I crouch down and roll up my yoga mat.
“Hey, Ven,” calls Charlotte, one of my regulars. “You coming to the coven gathering tonight?” Charlotte is also a witch, like me.
I run a hand through my long red ponytail, a nervous habit. “I can’t tonight. Sorry to miss it.”
Charlotte nods. “See you next class, then. That flying lizard pose really kicked my ass. Good stuff.”
She grins, and I can’t help but follow suit. “It’s challenging, that’s for sure.”
Charlotte leaves, and my smile falls. Because the reason I can’t meet up with the coven later brings me full circle back to demons.
I’d left my home near Boston, and my best friend Rowan, because I needed to get away from a lot of bad memories. Bad memories as in being abducted by a creepy horned demon and almost burned at the stake by his witch hunter master. What better place to erase your past than Costa Rica? Black sand coastlines, palm trees, sloths, and piña coladas. It worked, at first. Until things took a weird turn. My roommate and best friend here in Costa Rica, Luciana, had gone missing a few days ago. And it’s not like human cops can help when you have magical trouble.
I’ve always been a positive person, though I’ve been through a lot of tough stuff in my life, even before the whole kidnapping thing. But I’m beginning to think I’m cursed, because the trouble has clearly followed me here. It’s not just my friend who’s gone missing, I’ve heard rumor of others who’ve disappeared, too. And to wrap it all together with a shiny red bow, the supernatural tracker I’m told is my best chance at finding Luciana?
A demon.
I let out a sigh as I finish putting up the yoga mats. A flash of red catches my eye as two macaws flap by overhead. Out on the beach, surfers are zig-zagging back and forth in the azure waves, getting ready for a competition at the bar a couple buildings down. Which is where I’m headed myself.
The yoga studio is next door to a trendy beach resort near the city of Jaco. Resort-goers are my main clientele, though all the local witches come to my classes, too. I’d lucked out big time finding an opening at a studio right on the beach. Nothing but sand and surf for miles in either direction. Well, I had been lucky. Now I’m not so sure.
Heading inside, I change out of my yoga pants and racer-back T-shirt into a flowy sundress in my favorite color—and namesake—lavender. I let my long hair out of its ponytail and flip my head over to tousle it a bit. A touch of honey-lime flavored lip gloss and I’m ready to go meet my fate.
Sand crunches beneath my toes as I head out onto the beach. The breeze hits me again, and this time I catch the scent of rum. I probably need a drink—or five—to handle what’s about to transpire. As a yoga teacher, my body is my temple and all that… but I draw the line at dates with demons.
There’s already a crowd on the beach in front of the Diablo Azul—Blue Devil. Music blares from several speakers, and an announcer tells the onlookers that the competition is starting in five minutes. I feel a bubble of anxiety in my chest. This really is the worst time and place to meet up with a stranger, let alone to talk about my friend’s disappearance. But I hadn’t chosen the location.
I push my way through the crowd, trying not to bump into everyone, but they’re too tightly packed together. As I move, I see and feel the auras of those around me, both humans and supernatural. There are a few other witches, a couple faeries, a couple shifters, and a vampire, who is clearly very old and powerful since he’s not burning in the sun. They all pulse different colors/moods/strengths. I wave at one of the witches who recognizes me but continue my beeline for the bar.
Raoul, one of the bartenders, sees me approach the long wooden counter and raises a hand in greeting. “Pura Vida, Ven! Guaro Sour?”
I throw him a grateful smile. “Sí, gracias!”
Five minutes later I have a drink in hand, and I’ve managed to find an empty two-person table out on the sand overlooking the water (okay, perhaps I performed an itty, bitty spell to suggest to the people occupying it that they wanted to dip their toes in the waves). I have important business to attend to, after all. This is the first official case of the Raven Society. Crime-fighting witches to solve all the supernatural world’s problems.
My lips touch the cool rim of my cocktail glass and I take a sip. Lime, sugar, and liquor hit my tongue and I sigh in pleasure. I suppose I can live in the moment for just a bit longer. Before I have to face the task that lies ahead. And more importantly, face my past. Talk about your inner demons—now, apparently, I get an outer demon, too.
When my friend had gone missing, I’d called Rowan and her fiancé Xander to activate the new and revamped Raven Society network. The Raven Society is an international society of witches. But Xander is a dragon shifter, so the two of them decided that it was high time the supernatural community became less segregated and started helping each other out. Perfect case and point, when I was abducted by the demon and the witch hunter, we had to handle it ourselves. We couldn’t very well tell the police that we’d vanquished them with magic, burning them to nothing but a pile of ash. Not exactly orthodox in the human world.
Unsurprisingly, the local human police had made no progress the last few days in finding Luciana. That’s why Xander had recommended his friend, who just so happens to be a demon. Or, as Xander pointed out, a half-demon. As if somehow that made it better? But Xander says he trusts this guy with his life, so here I am. Just a witch on a beach, drinking a cocktail and wishing her luck would change.
The announcer comes on over the loudspeaker, letting the throngs of people know the surf competition has begun. Contestants line up on the shoreline, and three judges sit at a table out in the sand beyond the spectators. The first surfer runs out into the water, throws themself belly-first onto their board, and begins to paddle out into the waves. An upbeat Latin club mix comes on, and the crowd buzzes with excitement.
I cast my gaze around. How on earth am I going to find this demon dude in a crowd of a couple hundred people? Of course, when we’d set this up, he’d said that he would find me. Which right off the bat sounds incredibly cocky. He doesn’t know what the hell I look like. I sigh and take several big gulps of my drink.
A second contestant takes to the waves, then another and another. I pull my cell phone out of the pocket in my dress and glance at it. Xander’s contact is late. A good quarter hour late. Am I being stood up? By a demon no less?
The crowd cheers and my eyes move back to the surfing competition. The surfer cutting through the water now zips back and forth flawlessly, riding the full length of a cresting wave before steering his board back to shore. He leaps off gracefully to a huge applause. He’s clearly a crowd favorite. I’d been too distracted to watch the others, but was he really that much better?
Surfboard under his arm, he jogs toward the bar. The crowd parts for him, and as he moves, everyone seems to stare at him adoringly, both women and men. That’s when I catch the magic rolling off him, as big and bold as the waves he’d just been riding. Warm and silky and blue-green. It’s like a song you can’t help but dance to. Vivacious. Sensual. Inviting.
I’m still reeling from the strength of it when the surfer stops before me. The entire crowd has their eyes on me, wondering why I’m the chosen one. But I don’t pay any attention to them, because I’m incredibly distracted by the six feet of luscious brown sugar muscle dripping with salt water, and a pair of teal eyes that glow just a little more brightly than could possibly be natural.
He tosses his head to get several strands of wet sandy-blonde hair out of his eyes. “You must be Ven,” the demon says. “I’m Xander’s friend. Ryder.”
