“You’ll love them!” She called back down the hallway, but I let the words slide past the carved doorway and down to the somatic healing practitioner in office 216. I should probably look into who my new neighbors were. Someone would probably be up for therapy appointments with the new exorcist in 212.
I turned around slowly, soaking in the vibe, as Claire had directed. It was a good space, I decided, and if Max had prepaid for six months, it was, at least a place for me to hang out between shifts at the deli, if nothing else. I found I didn’t much feel like sleeping in the house anymore, at least not in my own bedroom. In the weeks since I’d returned from Max’s house, I’d painted the walls a soft rose, bought new comforters and sheets, and abandoned the room entirely for the first floor, taking over the couch. Steve had taken one look at my new bedding situation and hit the computer, and the next day a futon had arrived,which miraculously had fit alongside the far wall of the living room. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but it worked for right now.
Right now was about as far ahead as I could think.
I was about to venture back into my office to try out the chair when a voice from the hallway startled me.
“Delia Thompson?” The words slid in and over my shoulders, practically tugging me around, and I whirled half expecting to see a mass of shadows ripping toward me, pain and darkness and rage?—
Instead, I looked up and up higher still, as a tall, well-dressed man stepped through the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping the room with the same curious assessment I had given the place. For a half second, I thought it was the man from Descent, whose name I had forgotten but whose long, lean, incredibly hot body still showed up in my dreams on occasion, haunting my memories. This guy could’ve been his twin: dark eyes, dark hair, Eastern European cheekbones, all coiled strength beneath a suit straight out of Chicago’s high-rises. He was money and he was power, and he had no business in my office, I was pretty sure.
“Um, yes?” I managed.
“Your associate, Claire Bickwell, said I could find you here. We spoke downstairs.” His voice was smooth, dark, and smelled like whiskey-steeped chocolate. It also continued to tug at me, urging me to step closer.
I stepped back. Firmly. “I hope she also told you that we’ve just moved in today. I’m not going to be able to help anyone for a while.”
“Oh, you misunderstand.” He tilted his head, his smile deepening into a satisfied smirk. “I’m not here for your help, I’m here to help you.”
“Well, thank you, but we’re still getting started here.” I gestured to the room with its standard-issue furniture. “I’m nowhere near ready to hire.”
He smiled. “Then how fortunate that I am already bound to you.”
I jolted back, channeling a visceral survival instinct, but the man moved swiftly, reaching me practically without taking a stride and grabbing my wrist before I could clutch the amulet around my neck. His fingers were cool and firm, his grip precise but not bruising—a command wrapped in velvet. And I knew him—knew him! Even as he stared at me, his own dark brown eyes flared red for the barest a second to prove his point. Though of course, that was impossible.
“Hello again, Delia,” he murmured, each syllable a dark and deliberate claim.
I stiffened in his grasp, swallowing hard. “Bullshit,” I finally managed. “Palemerious is gone. I evicted you.”
“You did. And that name is gone, certainly.” His thumb stroked once along the inside of my wrist, a slow, deliberate drag that sent a shiver racing up my arm. “But when you released me in a house full of shedim, you gave me the power to absorb their skills. And when you summoned me, I returned. Summons are very powerful, you know. Especially from someone like you.”
“I didn’t summon you.”
“You cried out for aid during your final strike against the Grahams. Anyone who would help, you said. Anyone who would come.” His smile twisted, as sharp as his words. “The Almighty had other concerns that night. I didn’t.”
Heat crawled up my neck, part shame, part something darker. Ihadcalled out. In that moment of desperation, when the demons threatened to overwhelm me, I’d thrown my plea into the void?—
“That wasn’t for you.”
“And yet.” He lowered his head just enough for his breath to ghost over my knuckles. “Now, I am Lucian Gray…” The words were spoken like a hard-won confession, dangerous andintimate. Without breaking my gaze, he turned my captured hand palm-up and brushed his lips across it—a whisper-soft kiss, cool at first and then warm, like a brand of smoke and heat sinking into my skin.
Desire curled low in my stomach, traitorous and sharp.
I wrenched my hand free, stumbling back until my shoulders hit the doorframe. My fingers flew to the amulet at my throat, clutching it hard enough that the edges bit into my palm. The iron heated against my skin, and Lucian took one smooth step backward, his expression unreadable.
“That won’t work forever,” he said mildly, though his eyes tracked the movement of my hand like a predator.
“Yeah, well. It’ll work until we establish some boundaries.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Big ones. Very definite ones.”
“Noted.” He inclined his head, but the smirk never left his face. “Though you should know, that little charm of yours won’t protect you at all from what’s coming.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Coming from where?”
His expression shifted, humor bleeding into something colder. “Your performance in the Descent establishment and at the Graham estate was…noticed. Your ability to name your enemies, and the violence with which you’ve dispatched them, have already reached the ears of the powerfully corrupt and the tongues of those who curry their favor. You’ve made enemies who don’t forgive easily.”
“Then I’ve been making enemies since I was ten years old.”
“Not like these.” He moved to the window, hands sliding into his pockets with effortless grace. “You humiliated Sonillion’s servants. Crippled them. These are demons with scores to settle and an eternity to nurse their grudges. They’ll come for you, Delia. And when they do, that amulet and your righteous fury won’t be enough.”
