The surge of emotions that flooded Nyte was so powerful that he couldn’t register what any of them were, leaving him stiflingly, torturously numb. “She either is orisn’t.”
The sprite winced, lips drawing back to reveal her tiny, pointed teeth, and hummed hesitantly. “Is.”
Nyte growled. “Sun scorch me to fucking cinder.”
“But”—Starling displayed all four palms placatingly—“she has not an inkling of where you are. So you need not worry, not at all. And if that succubitch shows up, I will make her regret that she ever touched you.”
If Sarnessa was looking for him, it was only a matter of time before she found him. Only a matter of time before she came back and… What would she do? What could she possibly hope to accomplish? This time, he wouldn’t be vulnerable and naïve. This time, he’d be on his guard, and he’d be ready to tear her asunder.
But Ember… His dear little which had no defenses against any demon, much less an ancient succubus.
By all the hells, there was far too much left to chance here. Far too much left unknown. And the thought of Ember coming to any harm was like a spear of cold iron rammed up through his ribs and into his heart. That cold was offset by a firestorm of rage at his core, a roaring blaze threatening to break free. If Sarnessa touched Ember, if she so much as looked at Nyte’s witch, he would inflict a thousandfold the suffering that he’d endured.
Though he felt like he was about to explode with all the pressure built up inside him, he forced himself to speak. “Help me keep vigil over this house. So long as I am bound to her, Ember is in danger. Sarnessa is not one to pass up a meal.”
“What do you think I have been doing all this time?” the sprite replied with a toothy grin.
Nyte shook his head at her, unable to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up. “Of course you’ve been playing voyeur all this while. What else should I have expected?”
Starling giggled. “I did say this would be entertaining.”
“When this is through, I need to find new friends.”
“You will not need new friends, Nyte. You will have your soulmate.”
He could not bring himself to reply. That word felt too heavy, too potent, too…
Too right.
For the first time, Nyte understood what he was feeling. Understood firsthand the thing he’d inspired in mortals for so long.
Fear.
Chapter Eighteen
Ember turned off the television and tossed the remote aside. She could only rewind the movie so many times before accepting that she simply wasn’t paying attention to it. The bed frame creaked quietly beneath her as she reached for one of the books on the nightstand, intending to read more about witches instead, but she withdrew her hand with a groan and flopped back onto the bed.
Her research didn’t feel like it was going anywhere. She’d read about witches and their history, though most of the available records involved innocent people who’d been accused of practicing witchcraft rather than actual witches. She’d read about demons, incubi and succubae, and other entities from many cultures, but how was she to know what bits of the myths were based in fact?
As for Nyte’s kind, the nocturni, there was nothing to be found. She suspected that they’d been lumped in with other creatures of the night in most of the old stories, twisted into fairy tales of boogey men and horrors haunting people’s dreams.
She’d delved into books and sources online about witches and covens. There were covens all over the world—especially in Salem, which wasn’t surprising. But again, how could she know where she belonged?
Some people embraced the witch aesthetic, enjoying crystals and incense and all things occult. Others considered themselves witches in a spiritual sense, focusing on intuition, inner wisdom, and devoting themselves to nature, whether practicing Paganism or more personal sets of beliefs.
Some covens seemed more like social groups, ways to bring women together in sisterhood. Others focused on building community around shared spirituality and rituals. Many covens partook in volunteer work and activism, seeking to improve their neighborhoods through their actions. And after sending out some inquiries, Ember learned that a few covens were quite secretive and selective in their membership, following strict rules and revealing very little to outsiders.
Which of those groups actually knew that demons like Nyte were real? Which of them knew how to cast spells, which could teach Ember to use the magic that was apparently in her blood? She doubted her parents knew anything about it, and she wasn’t about to ring them up and ask.
Hey Mom, Dad, do you know if there are any witches in the family? Maybe Grandma had an old spellbook to pass down to me?
Ember was completely lost.
And she knew that if she tried to read tonight, it would be the same as watching the movie. Her eyes would skim over the words, but not a single one would register.
Her mind simply kept drifting to Nyte.
He was the only person she knew who could answer any of her questions. Except he was never around to do so.
