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“He’s a phoenix,” Queenie said.

“Huh? Who?”

“River.”

Oh no.

I had a terrible history with a phoenix.

Chapter

Two

River

Hovering next to the plate glass window of my tattoo shop like the creeper I never knew I was, I watched Queenie and the new witch in town cross the road, headed toward the coffee shop.

After they stepped out of my line of sight, I lifted my shaking hand and stared at the drawing clutched in my fist.

I’d been dreaming about the girl in this drawing for weeks, until, finally, back in February, I’d pulled out my colored pencils and drawn her likeness, hoping to get her out of my head.

And then I’d hung her up in my office, where I got to stare at her every single day for the last eight months. Sometimes, I’d feverishly draw her again…and again and again. Other times, I’d simply look at her and lose hours of time.

It wasn’t healthy, this obsession with a woman in a drawing. Especially because I’d assumed I’d drawn someone who did not exist.

Until this morning, when I meandered past the pub, came to a screeching halt on the sidewalk, and backed up like a marionette with no control over my movements.

And then I stared and stared and stared some more.

At the woman I’d dreamed about and had been obsessing over ever since.

She had flaming red hair pulled away from her face and draped down her back in soft curls. Rosy cheeks. Perfectly arched brows over vivid green eyes. She even wore a cute little dress with fat yellow flowers trailing along the short hem.

Just like in my dream, on my drawing.

She wore high-heeled sandals to match the dress. Although it was October, this was central Texas. October was nothing more than a vaguely milder extension of summer.

Luckily, she hadn’t noticed me staring in the window. I continued to watch as she stood and shook hands with Hilde and Queenie before she was escorted into the storeroom so they could discuss her interview.

Her smile, nervous as it was, was so wide and bright, I damn near needed sunglasses just to observe her. Her arms and legs were long and lean. Her torso, too. Her breasts were small. They fit her build perfectly.

She was, in a word: stunning.

And she absolutely could not stay here in Arrythmia. There was a reason I dreamed her up, and it could not be a good one.

If we were to cross paths, if we were to strike up a conversation, if we were to become friends—or worse, more than friends—something bad would happen. Possibly to me but more likely to her.

And she could not regenerate like I could.

Which meant she needed to go, go, go, get out of my life, sooner than later.

So, I’d burst into the pub and voiced my strong objection to hiring her.

And Queenie, bless her do-gooder soul, had shot me down, with Hilde as backup. If Asmoday had been there, I was certain he would have sided with me. He was, in truth, my only real friend in this town. Well, he and Daruka.

The only ones I’d let in.

Because they were demons, and demons were pretty hard to destroy. I figured associating with me wouldn’t kill them, like it so easily could pretty much anyone else.