“What kind of phone is that?” Ramona asked, leaning in again.
“HellBerry.” Azareth didn’t look up. “Nothing fancy. Runs on 666G.”
Ramona stared, unable to tell if this demon was telling a joke. “That’s not a real thing.”
“Works better than whatever mortal service you’re using.” Azareth’s thumbs moved across the screen with practiced efficiency. “Though the autocorrect is terrible. Last week it changed ‘quarterly reports’ to ‘quarterly blood sacrifices,’ and I had to explain that to three different departments. The disappointment was palpable.”
“That’s…” Ramona didn’t know what to say. “Does it actually get reception in Hell?”
“Gets reception everywhere. Underground, underwater, through magical wards.” Azareth finally looked up. “Powered by ambient suffering. Very efficient.”
“That’s horrifying.”
“That’s good infrastructure.”
The phone buzzed. The notification sound was… Was that screaming? Very faint, very distant, but definitely screaming.
“You have got to change that ringtone,” Ramona said.
“Can’t. IT disabled custom settings after someone set theirs to ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ and it caused a building-wide incident.” Azareth glanced at the notification, frowned, and tucked the phone back in her jacket pocket. “I’ll deal with that Monday.”
“So, having two new moons before Ostara should work perfectly.” Ramona wiped her sweaty palms on her T-shirt.
“Is that significant?” Azareth asked, clearly meaning the Ostara date. “The March new moon?”
“No, it’s perfect.” Something lifted in Ramona’s chest. Not quite hope, but close. “We do the first ritual in three weeks. If it works, great. If it doesn’t — we have another chance the night before Ostara. Either way, I can send you back to Hell before the gala. No one has to know any of this happened.”
Azareth was quiet for a moment. “Assuming we can get the components for the ritual. And get to the convergence point. And perform it correctly.”
“Easy enough.” Ramona felt herself relax slightly. Just a few weeks. She could hide a demon for a few weeks. She’d survived two years at Mystic Moon Books. She’d survived finding Simone and Kate together. She’d survived the incident.
She could survive seven weeks. Ramona considered for a moment, then pressed on to ask, “You said until the conditions of the spell are met?”
Azareth nodded, not looking up from her HellBerry. “Mm-hmm.”
“And how can we do that?” Ramona asked. “You can bring me success and fortune?”
Azareth glanced up, tilting her head. “Is that what you want?”
This felt like a trick. The predatory stillness of Azareth’s body unnerved her.
“I think let’s focus on the ritual. It’s far more likely to work.”
Azareth nodded, looking back to her phone.
“So I just have to keep you hidden until then,” Ramona said. “That’s manageable. A few weeks. Seven, at most.”
“And this Ostara event?”
“A gala. Very formal. Very public. Every witch in Fernwick attends.” Ramona shook her head. “But you’ll be back in Hell by then. This will all be over.”
“You seem confident.”
“I have to be.” Ramona pulled the grimoire into her lap, flipping through pages with renewed focus. “Do you know what components we need? For the ritual?”
Azareth rattled off a list that made Ramona’s stomach sink. “Moonstone dust. Blessed salt from a convergence point. Hawthorn branches cut at midnight. A drop of blood from both the summoner and the summoned.” She paused. “A willing severance. Both parties have to want the bond broken.”
Ramona nodded. “Perfect. Ideal. Easy.”
