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“Is that my fault?” I worry, knowing how he’s struggling with his abandonment wounds. If I’ve caused another…

“A little, but not really. It’s not like you woke up and decided to get possessed by a demon, right?”

“No, but”—I nearly cut off my thumb—“demon? It’s definitely a demon?”

Bellamy snaps his gaze to mine, perhaps realizing his loose tongue has let something go that he didn’t mean to. “I think it could be a demon, rather than a spirit, yes. The pattern of your symptoms is…it matches.”

“So, I am going to die?” I panic mash the avocado in a bowl.

I’m not ready to die. There are so many more orgasms left to have with him. Fuck, he doesn’t even know I’m vers yet.

“I’m vers!” I blurt, crushing the fruit too hard and nearly upending the bowl on the counter.

“Wha—” He shakes his head, pushing himself up to his knees. The faded dark-plum tee he’s stolen from my bag falls just shy of mid-thigh. “We’ll circle back to that later. Focus, Sunday.”

Focus. Right. I can do that. There’s totally not five trains of thought at the station right now. Like, what kind of demon? Oh shit, I hope it’s not the projectile vomiting kind, Bellamy will freak. When is my head going to start spinning? Am I going to get pinned to the ceiling?

“There’s four stages of demonic possession. And it seems like you’re sitting around the second stage at the moment: oppression.”

“That sounds great,” I deadpan. But I shut my mouth and listen, because he’s the expert here.

“You aren’t sleeping well, you’re having nightmares. You’re mumbling in your sleep, you’re anxious.”

Am I anxious?

I look down at the avocado that’s gone so past smashed it’s verging on becoming a liquid. Mmm, maybe a little anxious.

“Your energy is a bit messed up, too. I keep feeling these spikes when you get annoyed at something. I noticed it before but…well, I just thought you were being a dick, to be honest.”

I pop four slices of thick seeded bread into the toaster, trying to listen to him and not focus on the churning in my gut. I chew on my lip, seeking the comfort of metal that’s no longer there.

Pressure on my chest draws my focus. My necklace lifts, tugging at the back of my neck. Bellamy is on the other side of the room, standing with his arm aloft, fingers waving as he uses his magic to toy with the chain around my neck.

His new favorite game for getting my attention, it seems.

“Where did you go?” he asks me softly, lowering his hand and letting the chain fall against my throat.

I’m thankful when the toast pops up, offering a distraction for my hands. It makes it easier for me to talk about what’s going on inside my head.

“I, uh. I guess I’m worried that I’m going to hurt you. Physically. And I can’t live with myself if I do that, Bels.”

He moves to the counter, leaning over and cradling his chin in one hand, pushing stray crumbs into a pile with the other. “Why do you think you will?”

As I plate up our breakfast, the demon’s words come back to me.

You have something I want.

Debt is owed.

“I think…I think whatever this thing is, it wants you. For what, I don’t know. But it keeps… The voices, they keep saying things. Fuck, I sound crazy.” My temper spikes along with my embarrassment.

Something inside me roils, happy, even though I’m not.

“There!” Bellamy exclaims, placing his hand over my skull-covered one. “When you get pissed off, it surges.”

“Exactly!” I bite back. “What if it just wants me to get so riled up I snap your neck or something?” Thinking about it turns my stomach enough that I push my plate away.

Bellamy pushes it back toward me. “Babe, I’m a witch. I have magic. I’ll figure it out, I promise you.”