“Deal,” Ramona said with a nod. She gathered a grimoire, her fingertips tracing over the imprinted leather of the cover.
She glanced up to find Zara watching her with an expression that made her breath catch in her chest.
“What?” Ramona asked.
“Nothing.” Zara’s smile was soft. “Just… it’s good to see you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like yourself.”
“Do all demons act so high-and-mighty, or is that just your particular brand of arrogance?” Ramona asked, twisting her mouth to hide a mischievous grin, deflecting quickly from the softness of the moment.
Zara raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “You dare to test the leash of my patience, Mortal?” She lowered her chin, hereyes taking on a distinct predator gleam. “I’ve taken souls for far less impertinence.”
Two weeks ago, Ramona would have been scared of such a look. She’d have turned into a soft-bellied prey animal at the first sign of danger. Now? Now that predatory gleam made something still twist low in her stomach, but it was far from fear.
Now that the ritual felt real, felt soon and not far off, Ramona couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Yes, of course she wanted the accidentally summoned demon she was tethered to against her will to return to Hell. And yet… another part of her was slowly cracking open, a part that she thought she’d long sealed off.
But if there was even a hint of hesitation, the ritual would fail. And she wouldnotbe failing this time.
The bedroom was too small. The bed far too close. She couldn’t help the way she woke up from filthy dreams, but she could help the fact that being this close, this alone, with Zara felt dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with that predatory glint in the demon’s eye.
“How do you feel about a little shopping trip?” Ramona asked, reaching for a large pair of sunglasses.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The shop was calledThe Thornwood Apothecary, and it sat on a cobblestone side street like it had been there since the town was founded. Which, knowing Thornwood’s history, it probably had.
Fernwick was a large mixed-magic city, but Thornwood wasonlyfor magical beings. She used to walk these streets daily, but now she only returned when it was time to visit Greenbriar Manor, which was blessedly far away from the town center.
Being back in the town now made Ramona’s palms sweat.
She sat in the car in the parking spot for a full minute after turning off the engine, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
“We can leave if you want,” Zara said quietly from the passenger seat. “Find something online.” They hadn’t spoken much on the drive to Thornwood, instead opting to listen to a podcast dissecting the latest episode ofLove Potionin a way that made Ramona’s brain go quiet for the drive.
“No.” Ramona loosened her grip. “No, we need the right supplies. I’m fine.”
Zara let her head fall back against the car headrest. “You’re not fine. Your heart rate just spiked.”
“That’s rude. Stop monitoring my heart rate.”
“I’m not monitoring it. I’m feeling it through the tether. There’s a difference.” Zara tilted her head, studying Ramona with that assessing gaze. “How long has it been since you’ve been around other witches? Apart from your roommates-who-are-definitely-not-your-coven?”
“Two years.” Ramona unbuckled her seat belt. “Give or take.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“How are you feeling about that?”
Ramona scoffed. “Are you a demon or a therapist?”
“A lot of overlap there,” Zara remarked. “Come on. You can talk to me. I am contractually bound to listen to you for at least forty-eight more hours.”
“Well, being here makes me feel like I’d rather drive into oncoming traffic.” Ramona forced a smile. “But here we are.”
