Piper blinks. “…what are you doing?”
Newt headbutts my shin. She squints at him like he’s betrayed the entire Bellamy bloodline. “Newt. Sweetie. Wh—why are you—why are you being NICE?”
I crouch, scratch the cat behind the ear. Newt melts like butter under my hand.
Piper’s eyes widen. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?”
“Nothing,” I say truthfully.
“You bribed him with demon treats.”
“Demon treats don’t exist.”
“Well they SHOULD,” she snaps, pacing and pointing accusingly. “Because my cat does not trust easily, and he is not cuddly with strangers, and he definitely doesn’t like you—”
Newt hops into my lap. Stretches. Purrs even louder.
Piper stares at us like she’s witnessing the fall of civilization. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “Helikesyou.”
I give her a slow, satisfied smile. “I told you,” I say quietly. “Your familiar recognizes the bond.”
“HE IS NOT MY FAMILIAR.”
“Sure,” I say, stroking the cat. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Her glare could melt stone. But underneath it, her magic flickers, curious and unsettled. I lean back against the couch, cat sprawled across me like a traitor, and watch her unravel in slow motion. And I know… she’s already mine.
She doesn’t realize it—not deep down, not consciously—but her magic does. It keeps reachingfor me. Testing the edges. Pulling like a subtle gravitational force.
Piper crosses her arms hard over her chest, as if that alone could keep me out. “Okay, demon,” she snaps, “since you’re already turning my life into a train wreck, let’s cut the shit. What do you know about my curse?”
I stroke the cat absently, watching her. “Not enough to give you the answers you want.”
“Not enough,” she repeats, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You’re a higher demon. You should knowsomething.”
“I know pieces.”
“Start connecting them.”
I tilt my head. “You didn’t say please.”
“Slade,” she hisses, “I am two seconds away from snapping and you haven’t even seen me cranky yet.”
Gods, she’s exquisite when she’s angry. “I know the curse is ancient,” I say slowly, “Old-magic. Tied to emotion. And reactive. Very reactive.” Mygaze drags over her deliberately. “Especially for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Wow.So helpful. I could’ve googled that.”
“And I know,” I continue, letting my voice drop, “that there are places—oldplaces—where your family kept records. Histories. Spellwork diaries. The kind you witches love. One of them might still exist.”
Her expression cracks, just a little. “Where?”
I shrug. “I have an idea.”
“Slade. I swear, if you don’t pony up the information, I will—”
“You’re getting impatient,” I murmur. “Interesting.”
“Of COURSE I’m impatient! I summoned a demon, accidentally bonded with said demon—”
