But this time… this time, she was mine.
The mansion seemed to shudder the second time I spoke the words, spoke her name, but I held my ground, and I didn’t look away from the mirror.
A shadow passed behind me, the long nails again brushing over my shoulder. I shifted and picked up the fire poker I’d sat beside my chair, and then laid it across my lap as I said the words one last time.
The air seemed to freeze.
A few of the candles blew out.
And in the distance, I heard a laugh.
The shadow behind me turned into the silhouette of a curvaceous woman. Long, wavy hair swept over her shoulder as she walked around the front of the chair. She blinked, and dull, red eyes glimmered back at me. I didn’t move as her laughter faded, as she reached an arm out toward the mirror, and when she touched the glass, I knew the summoning had worked.
A long finger was the first thing to emerge. The sharp obsidian tip of her nail caused a ripple effect across the entire surface, distorting my reflection. A bare, pointed foot—toenails painted blood red—appeared next. Slowly, she stepped through, taking her time like she meant to scare whoever waited on the other side. And with every inch of her that emerged, I felt my hands tighten around the weapon in my lap. I didn’t dare blink or look away, not even when my body resisted the shift it wanted to take as the siren demon appeared.
Fucking Mary.
I knew Mary would be desirous. I knew she would be beautiful, tempting, even unearthly in her seductions.
But Mary was desire itself.
Mary was clad in a midnight satin dress that hugged her pear-shaped frame, her hip dips, her voluptuous ass, and split low between her petite breasts. Her poison scarlet hair glimmered in the candlelight—long and wavy, the color of blood, the motion of the rippling sea.
Startling, though, were the scars riveted across her pale skin. Raised and raw and lethal… As though every time she’d been ensnared in circles like this one or beaten for being who and what she was when she was alive, was laid bare upon her flesh. The most concerning scar was the one that went over her left eye, splitting her cheek, eyelid, and brow. And the eye that stared back at me through that scar was a deep, nearly black shade of carmine.
Mary brought an arm across her chest and bit her sharp black nail between her teeth. Her long lashes hit her eyelids, showcasing the cat-eye points of her eye makeup, and a closed-lip smile rose on her darkly shaded lips, thus accentuating the curvature of her apple cheeks.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” she cooed, swaying side to side. Her gaze devoured me, constricting my throat as I held the fire poker tighter in my suddenly sweating hand. Fuck, the way her eyes stared me down was new. I shifted slightly in my seat as I drew again from my cigar. I’d summoned and destroyed enough demons in my days to be wary of her games, her seductive looks, her taunts.
“Hello, Mary.”
Her smile split, showing off perfectly white teeth behind those pouty lips. “Hello, demon hunter,” she said, her voice like crushed black velvet—smooth, seductive, and melting. “Do you usually dress up so much for your summonings?” she asked.
I blew out another plume of smoke. “Depends on the guest.”
“Should I be honored?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
When I didn’t answer, Mary simply took her nail from her lips and looked around at the circle she was ensnared within. Her tutting tongue clicked over the chilled air.
“Not very fair, hunter,” she cooed. “You free out there, me trapped in here… What now? You have that pretty poker in your lap, will you try to kill me?”
I considered her slowly, letting her stew in that small circle for a few more moments before giving her the conversation she wanted.
Though she seemed to find the silence amusing.
“What’s the matter, hunter?” she said in a teasing tone. “Am I not what you expected? Or perhaps—” Her eyes lingered on the front of my pants, tongue darting out and licking her bottom lip before she sucked it behind her teeth. The simple act made my jaw twitch.
“—perhaps I’m more woman than you expected, and it scares you,” she continued.
“How do you know I’m a hunter?” I finally asked.
She laughed, and the sound of it echoed in the small room. “Innocent beings don’t look as you do when they summon me. They think they’re going to be brave, though most of them run. And none are smart enough to bind me. It makes for an eventful night of play… So much blood.” She licked the tip of her nail like blood had collected there at the memory, and her long lashes hit the back of her eyelids when she looked at me again.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
I put the end of my cigar out on the chair, patting it when fire tried to ignite in its wake. “My name won’t help you stay alive,” I replied.
“I wasn’t aware I had options.” Her eyes raked over me again. “What do you want if not to kill me?”
