Page 119

“You became this in high school?” I waved my hand at her body. I tried to understand how a bullied high school girl could continue to pretend she was powerless, keep being a victim, when she’d been given the power from the pits of hell. It must’ve taken a lot of restraint not to go Carrie on everyone’s asses.

She chuckled. “Not this exactly.” She looked down at her body, which had somehow become more voluptuous, effervescent. “This has taken years of honing my power⁠—”

“Killing people,” I interrupted her, refusing to let her romanticize any of this. Demon-blessed witches only got more powerful by offering their benefactor sacrifices, souls. They had to consistently do it to keep and grow their power.

“Yes, killing some people.” Her lips thinned, and her eyes glittered with fury. “To answer your question, I opened the door to my powers when we were in high school.”

Questions bubbled up within me. A whole fucking lot of them. But whether or not I survived—whether or not Gerald survived, for that matter—depended on me asking the right kinds of questions. “And how did you even know what to do to call a demon, to create the rituals needed?”

I didn’t even know what one needed to do. I knew about sacrifice, spells in Latin, and learning a demon’s true name, but not much else. The witch community kept the specifics locked down—for good reason. The power such a ritual promised was far too tempting. Even for some hunters. I’d heard stories of hunters making deals with demons to get more power, with the intention of using them for good. But the road to hell and all that.

Those hunters never died well. They never did much good before they died either.

Shay’s sneer dissipated, replaced with a self-satisfied smile. She was cocky, prideful. That would be her undoing. She’d been dying to tell me this, show me she was smarter than me, more powerful. All these years and she still had the rage of a teenage girl wanting to find the upper hand on those who taunted her. And that’s what I’d use to end her. The human quality that could never be killed in the process of becoming a monster… Ego.

“Where else do you think a bullied, lonely, sad girl went looking for revenge? The internet.” She licked her lips. Her tongue was long. Too long. And forked. Gross. “Well, books too, but the internet gave me what I needed.”

I gaped at her, genuinely shocked. “You’re telling me that you got the information you needed to summon a demon by googling it?”

“Well, not quite that simple. I had to go deep into occult message boards and went through some trial and error, but yes.” She inspected her cuticles.

It was then I realized her hands had turned to curved claws, monstrous and sharp.

Well, I could add that to my journal—if I survived. Demon-blessed witches did start turning when they had been practicing long enough.

I wondered if that meant she would eventually turn into a demon, complete with chains to hell as accessories.

I could’ve asked her, but it might’ve harshed her mellow. She was all hyped up on her power; best not remind her it came with the side effect of an eternity of damnation.

“Of course, you can’t find that kind of thing now,” she added. “This was the early days of the internet, and demons hadn’t realized the power it gave humans. I was one of the lucky ones.”

I stored that little nugget away, that demons somehow controlled what was on the internet about them.

“I think we’ll agree to disagree on your definition of lucky.” I grimaced, looking at her claws, not bothering to mask my distaste.

“You don’t think that getting the power to control and punish those responsible for my suffering is lucky?” Shay’s voice lowered an octave. “You don’t think me being the most dangerous person in this godforsaken town is a blessing?”

Oh, so on top of being a demon-blessed witch, she also had some kind of a God complex. Fun.

“No,” I replied bluntly, leaning forward to put my goblet on the coffee table. “No, I don’t think that at all, Shay.”

My anger for this woman was leaking through my forced amusement of her. I couldn’t sit with her and cosign on her delusions. Not to mention the fact that she was responsible for killing my parents.

She huffed out a breath, rolling her eyes. “Of course, you wouldn’t think that, Hadley. You were the golden girl. You never had a hard day in your life. You were at the top of the food chain. Until you weren’t. Until you realized there were things above you.” Her eyes glowed with triumph at her being the one to knock me into the dirt.

Pure malice washed over me, making it hard to resist the urge to go for the knife in my jacket and hurl it at her heart. It might’ve been satisfying, but it wouldn’t actually do anything beyond probably piss Shay off and commence the battle I hadn’t figured out how I’d win yet.

“Is that why you cursed Colton?” I decided to cut to the chase. I should’ve tried to butter her up a little more to get the name of the demon she made a deal with, but I could torture it out of her later.

“Because you wanted to teach us all a lesson?” I continued. “By making him murder my parents in front of me?” I’d wanted to keep my tone cool, to remain collected, but I ended up spitting the words like tacks.

“You’re angry.” She squinted at me as if she were confused. I wondered whether her humanity took away her sense of logic too.

“Having my parents murdered in front of me by a werewolf who I just found out was my cursed boyfriend will do that to you,” I responded tightly.

“You didn’t deserve Colton.” She rose from her seat. Her form seemed to grow three inches since the last time she stood. Magic emanated from her in waves, rattling my bones and making me taste iron.

Liquid trickled out of my nose. When I wiped it, my hand was smeared red. Yeah, this bitch was powerful.