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I close my eyes and chant the spell I’ve memorized by heart.

Magic stirs inside me, and I force it into the words. Then, I imagine Salios sitting on his throne of bleeding, pumping hearts, and throw open the bond between us. Lust magic flows into me, so strong my legs buckle. I collapse onto the floor and my knees crack against mahogany, but I barely notice. Every inch of me tingles. Slickness spreads between my thighs as my nipples tighten into stiff peaks. Still, I keep chanting.

And then his voice rings out. “Annalise, what are you doing?”

The light bulb buzzes louder. The wind pounds against my parents’ house so hard that the entire structure groans.

“Annalise, stop it!”

“Annalise—”

The lightbulb shatters. The wind goes silent as the room is cast into darkness. A moment later, my tattoo starts glowing, bathing the attic in a bright pink light. When I glance at the seven-sided star again, two people are there—not people, demons.

My heart aches when I see him. “Daemon.”

Naked and in his winged form, my best friend kneels at Salios’s feet. Angel-blessed cuffs surround his ankles, wrists, waist, and neck. Bulky chains connect them, weighing him down so that his face digs into the grimy floor. Bruises and slashes cover every inch of his body, and dark blood leaks over my sigils.

Daemon doesn’t look at me when I say his name. Eyelids half-closed, he wraps his hands around Salios’s leg and sobs. “Please stop. I’ll do anything.”

“What did you do to him?” I hiss, staring at Daemon’s evil twin. Salios is dressed in one of Daemon’s infamous freshly tailored suits, and even though he looks like a human, tonight his eyes are every bit as pink as my infernal tattoo.

Before answering me, Salios peers at the sigils and frowns. “You’ve summoned and bound me. That’s a very advanced spell for such a little witch.”

I glare at him, fighting back every instinct to cross the barrier and help Daemon. Ruining the sigil will break the containment spell, and I don’t want to think about what’ll happen if Salios gets free.

“I said, what did you do to him?” I repeat, my words practically a growl.

He smirks. “I like to make him hallucinate you, and then watch you get tortured. Sometimes, I’ll make him do the torturing too, to someone I glamour to look and act exactly like you. It’s very entertaining.”

“You’re a monster.” I clench my teeth.

Salios doesn’t object.

The faster I can get this over with, the better.

Walking to the table, I grab the unfolded parchment, then flash it in front of Salios’s face. “Do you recognize this?” I ask him. “It’s your spell.”

His face blanches, turning so pale it looks like he might pass out. “Where did you get that, little witch?” Salios asks. He swipes for it, but his hand pushes up against the star’s invisible barrier. “Only an archdemon can cast it. It does you no good, even with our bond.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I tell him, because our bond lets me do so much more than he realizes. Staring at him, I let his lust magic into my body, shivering with euphoria as it mixes with my own powers.

There’s no need to imagine him on his throne to open up our connection, not when he’s so close. Instead, I imagine myself in his body, puppeting him the way he puppets his demons. I imagine moving one of his fingers first, and when it twitches, I smile wide.

Still holding onto the parchment, I recite the ancient, corrupt language without ever looking at it. When I say the words, his lips move in tandem with mine, his voice and mine filling the attic. Salios’s neck muscles strain. A vein pulses in his forehead as he tries—and fails—to stop himself from casting the spell. His tethering spell.

I direct our words first at Daemon, and he shrieks as the flesh on his back bubbles off into the shape of an inverted angelic symbol. Sweat soaks Salios’s hair. His cheeks turn almost as red as Daemon’s flesh as he fists his hands at his sides, fighting back. My tattoo burns, the lust magic all but consuming me as I keep chanting, and make the archdemon keep chanting too.

My back bubbles.

Blistering pain burns every inch of my body—not just where the sigil spreads. It feels like I’m being remade, every cell transforming at a molecular level. Tears well, and my vision blurs as the sigil spreads to my upper and lower back. But I can’t stop. If I pause or falter, then Salios regains control and all of this was for nothing.

Sniffling, I force the rest of the spell out through gritted teeth. During the final words, Salios’s lips form a tight line.

“You will suffer for this,” he spits through the bond.

No, I won’t. You’ll never hurt either of us again.

I shout the rest of the spell. “Retorie dae masti!”