“Let her go.”
“She’s not real. You know that.” Viktor sipped his tea. “This is your fear, not my doing. I’m merely a visitor.” He gestured at the twisted forest. “Unpleasant place, your subconscious. You should see someone about that.”
“What do you want?”
“To offer you a choice.” He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne: something expensive and subtle. “You’re a hedge witch from a small town. You make potions for old women with arthritis. You have a cat and a shop and a quiet little life. None of this concerns you.”
“You murdered someone.”
“I resolved a problem. There’s a difference.” His smile was almost kind. “You witnessed something you shouldn’t have. That’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t have to define the rest of your life. Which, I should mention, could be quite long or quite short, depending on your choices.”
Her grandmother screamed again.
“Go home, Miss Wickwood.” Viktor’s voice was gentle, reasonable, the voice of a man offering directions to a lost tourist. “Forget what you saw. Return to your shop, your customers, your herbs and potions. The demon lawyer will be disappointed, but he’ll recover. He always does.”
“I can’t?—”
“You can.” He set down his tea and reached out, almost tenderly, to touch her cheek. His fingers were ice-cold. “I’m not a monster. I’m a businessman who protects his interests. You’re not my enemy unless you choose to be.”
“And if I testify?”
The kindness drained from his face. For one instant, she saw what lived behind the charming mask: something ancient and patient and without mercy.
“Then I’ll visit you again,” he said. “And next time, I won’t come alone.”
The forest collapsed. Her grandmother’s screams multiplied, became a chorus, became?—
Marcus surfaced from sleep,his brain struggling to process the sound that had woken him. A cry? The wind?
Another scream. High, terrified, raw.
Hazel.
He rolled off the couch, bare feet hitting the cold floor. His hip clipped the coffee table in the dark. By the time he reached her door, he was fully awake and ready for blood.
The door slammed against the wall as he burst through. She thrashed on the brass bed, tangled in sheets stained with spreading shadows. Her eyes were open but unseeing, pupils blown wide with terror.
“No,” she gasped, clawing at invisible enemies. “Please, no…”
Marcus recognized it instantly. Murraue, a nightmare demon. The air tasted of copper and burnt sugar, the telltale residue of nightmare magic gone predatory. Purple-black tendrils of power wrapped around Hazel’s limbs, holding her in whatever horror the creature had crafted.
His hands hovered over her shoulders. Wake her too suddenly, and the psychic shock could kill her. Let the nightmare continue, and it would drain her magic, her life force.
Hazel screamed again, arching off the bed. A trickle of blood ran from her nose.
No time for hesitation. Marcus yanked off his shirt, climbed onto the bed, and pulled her against his chest. She fought him, still trapped in the nightmare, her nails raked across his shoulders.
“Protego animam, protego mentem,” he said, the words raw as he poured his power into them. His magic flared outward, demon-dark, forming a protective circle around them both. The brass bed frame groaned under the pressure. “Expello malum, expello…” His voice cracked. “Get out. Get OUT.”
The murraue’s tendrils tightened, fighting his intrusion. Hazel whimpered against his chest, her whole body shaking. He held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head, and continued the chant.
“Come back to me, witch.” The words weren’t part of the spell, but he said them anyway. “Fight it. You’re stronger than this.”
Her magic suddenly flared to life: chaotic, wild, beautiful. Purple light pulsed across her skin where it touched his, and the shadows shattered like glass.
Hazel’s eyes snapped into focus. For a moment, she stared at him, at his bare chest, his arms around her, the protective circle glowing silver around them both. She could feel her own pulse where his arm crossed her ribs.
“Marcus?” Her voice came out raw, confused. “What… why are you…”
