Voices echoed endlessly through the darkness around him, most of them desperate prayers or pathetic attempts at summoning something stronger than themselves. But he ignored all of them.
Most of the voices sounded the same even after centuries of hearing them. Cults begging for forgiveness, rulers demanding victory, desperate people offering souls for revenge. None of it interested him anymore. He had almost drifted back into silence when something caught his attention.
Then something unusual brushed against the edge of the summoning magic. Human. A human had attempted a summoning ritual, but it should have faded before reaching him. Because there was no proper ritual behind it, no blood offering, no ancient language, nothing powerful enough to reach this deep into Hell. Just candle smoke, cheap wine, and the faint scent of vanilla.
The demon opened one eye.
“…What?”
Somewhere far above, in a tiny apartment the demon had never seen, someone laughed softly before a woman’s voice slurred slightly through the summoning magic.
“If I die doing this, I’m blaming the tequila.”
Chapter 1
Eva POV
By the time I left the bar, I had officially decided two things.
First, Greg from marketing deserved to lose his job.
Second, tequila solved problems faster than therapy.
Rain slammed into me the second I stepped outside. Within minutes my jacket was soaked through, cold water dripping down the back of my neck while I stood there staring at the street and reconsidering most of my recent life choices.
Behind me, somebody threw up into a plant. I understood the feeling. The last twelve hours had felt suspiciously similar.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
NINA: did you get fired fired or dramatic fired
I stared at the message for a second before typing back.
ME: what’s the difference
Her reply arrived seconds later.
NINA: one gets severance pay.
Rude.
I shoved my phone away before she could ask more questions and kept walking. My shoes squeaked against the wet sidewalk every few steps. At this point, I already knew tomorrow was going to hurt.
Apparently calling your manager “a corporate parasite with a pot belly” during a meeting counted as hostile workplace behavior.
Personally, I thought Greg was being sensitive.
Then again, I'd spent six years at that company and got fired in under three minutes, so maybe I wasn't the best judge of workplace etiquette anymore.
I turned the corner too fast and nearly missed the little shop. The sign above the entrance flickered weakly through the rain.
MORRIGAN IMPORTS.
Half the letters barely worked.
The place sat wedged between a vape store and a laundromat that was almost certainly involved in illegal activity after midnight. Warm yellow light glowed through the front windows, and after the day I'd had, it was weirdly comforting.
Then I noticed the sign taped crookedly beside the door.
