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The alcove was a collection of everything you’d expect from a demon-blessed witch. Herbs. Candles. Offerings in the form of animal and human organs, limbs preserved in jars. Her grimoire was thick, bound with a material that looked suspiciously like skin. Just looking at it, I tasted a heavy metallic in my mouth, my skin revolted, and my stomach turned.

The unearthly power radiating from the book was sickening. How I hadn’t felt it until then meant she probably had some kind of enchantment over the space.

I had to fight the urge not to gag as the sensation of insects crawling over my skin became almost stifling.

Her back remained to me, telling me she was confident I wasn’t going to attack her from behind. Which I wasn’t. I wasn’t that stupid. Though I was angry—violently so—at Shay and all I guessed she might’ve been responsible for, I was also curious. Plenty angry at myself for missing the signs. The rune on the first victim in the morgue, Shay’s odd remarks, the Latin verse on her wall. Her proximity to every single one of the victims. None of it had been glaring, but as a seasoned hunter, I should’ve noticed. It was my fucking job to pick up on odd behaviors in humans and connect them to supernatural creatures. She worked at the fucking morgue, for God’s sake. That was prime picking for demon-blessed witches, having access to all the body parts she could ask for. Souls even, who hadn’t left their bodies. Offerings for her demon prince.

But if she had cursed Colton to kill my parents, she wasn’t working in the morgue back then. She was still a shy, bullied teenager.

“How did you find your way to a deal with a demon while in high school?” I asked her back. I wasn’t about to tell her I knew the caste of her demon; I was hoping she’d tell me herself, wanting to show off. She obviously thought I was an idiot, and I was hoping she’d give me information based on that assumption.

Liquid sloshed and glasses clanged. When she turned, she was carrying two ornate goblets full of amber liquid. My brain still struggled to comprehend the complete change in her appearance, her shape. She had more curves, monstrous yet beautiful features. Shadows seemed to cling to her, everything about her wrong in a deeply evil way. Her eyes were little more than slits, wholly black. Creepy as fuck.

I took the goblet she held out, screwing up my nose. “Heads up, I’m not going to drink the blood of virgins or babies or whatever this is.”

She laughed, the sound echoey and wrong. Her hair had fallen out of its bun, long and curled and moving with wind that didn’t exist. Her lips were stained red, the energy coming off her uncomfortably hot. The smell of sulfur clogged my nostrils, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s just wine,” she assured me, settling on the sofa opposite me.

I eyed her. “You said you didn’t drink.” Granted, she also didn’t tell me she was an evil witch bitch from hell.

She lifted the glass then sipped purposefully, throat moving as she swallowed. “I said I didn’t drink unless there was something big to celebrate. I think this constitutes, doesn’t it?” Her voice had a lyrical quality, slightly off tone. She was playful. Like a cat might’ve been with a mouse before it ripped it apart.

“And what would the celebration be?” I asked, aware that I was the mouse in this metaphor.

“That you finally figured it out, Hadley!” Shay’s grin was maniacal, her teeth blackened and pointed. “After thirteen years of looking and vengeance, you found me. To be honest, it’s quite freeing to stop keeping this secret. Like taking a bra off at the end of the day.”

She relaxed into the couch. Everything about her was different, more self-assured, feminine, sexual, and most definitely evil. It emanated from her pores, a kind of cruelty that told me her humanity was dead and gone. It seemed incomprehensible that I hadn’t noticed any of this before.

I figured I might as well drink to that.

I couldn’t die sober, after all.

I lifted the glass to my lips then paused. “This isn’t poisoned, is it?”

She swirled the liquid in her own goblet. “No, I tried that.” Her lips turned down. “Poison doesn’t work on you. Nor do rudimentary curses.”

I sipped my wine. It was rich. Slightly sweet. But definitely just wine. “Well, I have a witch friend to help with that. She’s impressed by your power.” Though my witch connection never mentioned poison. I made a mental note to send her a fruit basket as a thank you if I survived.

Shay dragged a talon-like nail along the rim of her glass. “I’m impressed by hers, especially if she could block my curses, given she’s a white witch. Which she must be. Otherwise, you would’ve killed her, am I right?”

I nodded, not surprised that she understood the rules of hunters. I had an inkling she knew everything about hunters. “I only kill demon-blessed witches. I’m good at it too.” I winked.

Her eyes narrowed, true ire leaking from them. I felt impossibly cold, and my bones ached as if they were being ground down, pulled apart.

“Because you’ve found yourself in some binary between good and evil.” She shook her head. “I thought you were capable of a little more nuance, Hadley.”

I sipped the wine again. Maybe a bad idea, considering I’d likely need all of my wits about me if I could hope to defeat Shay. But I needed something to take the edge off. And right then, my biggest weapon was my own tongue and hopefully my ability to coax the right information out of Shay. When the pain in my body abated, I didn’t doubt it was Shay flexing her muscles, showing me what she could do.

“I am capable, but correct me if I’m wrong… Don’t you need to sacrifice one innocent life before you can even meet a demon to make a deal for your powers?”

Shay sucked her teeth in response, not looking even remotely guilty.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “That’s where my nuance ends.”

I considered Shay, who seemed content to sip her wine and bathe in her power.

I actually respected that she wasn’t resorting to threatening me or trying to fight me. She knew that I knew I was fucked. That I couldn’t escape. It seemed she was content to sit and drink wine and have a chat.