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“I’m sorry that we stop y’all from killing innocent humans,” I said sarcastically. “What wet blankets we are.” My tone was measured, but if I had the ability to warm up a room with my anger like she did, she’d be a well-done witch.

I walked to Shay’s bookshelf, pulling out books at random. Some were classics, romances. Others, though, were occult titles I hadn’t seen before. They were full of images of hell, demons, and languages I couldn’t decipher. My fingertips stung even touching them.

Dark books. Simmering with otherworldly wrongness.

Right under my nose.

Shay, doing all this shit right under my fucking nose. Same as Colton. This was a weakness. Feeling for people. Liking them. Once again, I was reminded why I didn’t have friends or relationships.

I remembered my mission. I could beat myself up in a shitty bar a hundred miles from here once I’d done what I needed to do.

I moved from my spot to casually go back to her alcove, peering at the eyes and body parts in glass jars. Shay didn’t stop me. She wasn’t done toying with me.

“So all this power you’ve got, and you’ve been wasting away here in Dreadwood Falls, pining over the quarterback?” I arched my brow at her. “Aren’t witches supposed to be feminists?”

My words had their intended effect, since they hit true. It was supremely sad that Shay had all this power—ill-gotten power, to be sure—yet she was here, waiting for the boy who barely knew she existed.

The weird witch wind in the room picked up and the temperature rose another few degrees. My skin began to blister. I ignored the pain.

“Careful,” she warned in a singsong voice that seemed to echo through the small room.

“I should be thankful you’re so pathetic,” I continued, not heeding her warning. “I mean, with all the power you seem to have, you could be causing a lot more havoc. Hurting a lot more people. Living up to your potential. Yet another small-town girl, making herself smaller, weaker, for a man.”

I barely got the last sentence out before she let out an earsplitting roar, sweeping her hand outward, sending me flying backward into her dark alcove.

Just as I’d intended.

The shelves collapsed, glass broke, and searing pain erupted from a dozen places where I was cut with wood, steel, and glass. I did my best to breathe through my mouth as various types of foul-smelling, oily liquids drenched me.

I tumbled down onto the ground, debris littered around me, a few rogue items hitting my head. I rolled, groaning, my arms outstretched. I didn’t need to feign the pain, but I was feigning the rolling around, weakly flailing like an idiot.

It hurt my pride a little, but it was worth it when my palm grasped a cold, heavy chain. Colder than it should’ve been. Heavier. Much fucking heavier. I could barely lift it. The skin of my palm felt as if it were splitting apart just holding it, wounds from the Black Annis reopening. But I kept my grip.

My instinct was never wrong. This was it. Just a few broken ribs and some cuts to get it. Not too bad.

I crawled onto all fours, slipping the locket into my boot before wrenching myself up with a genuine grunt. My boot felt heavy, the skin and flesh pulsing with agony at having such a horrid object so close to me. But I endured.

Shay was still standing in the middle of the room, glaring at me. The air was warm but not scalding. The wind had died down, but her hair was still rapidly blowing around her, casting her horrid face in an otherworldly glow.

“Sorry.” Shay drew in a deep breath, smoothing her blouse as if she’d accidentally spilled some water. “You hit a nerve.” She smiled down at me. “You may not look like queen bitch Barbie cheerleader, but you’ve still got some in you, don’t you?”

I wiped some broken glass from my sleeve. “I was always a bitch. Just shed the skirt and pom-poms.”

She smiled. “I like you, Hadley, I really do.” Her eyes ran up and down my body. “The new you, at least. But there’s someone who wants to meet you.” She reached down to the coffee table, lifting her goblet to take a last sip of her wine. Her expression was almost frustrated. “We’re going to go on a little trip.”

My ankle burned with a dull throb, having the locket pressing against it. The object was that powerful. If there was any doubt about her being blessed by a demon prince, it was eradicated. In my bones, I felt the hellish power of just the pure talisman. It was a second heartbeat against my ankle.

Surely, Shay would sense that this object was on me. Maybe she had some kind of witchy alarm system. This was the talisman that connected her to her demon and the beginning key to her downfall.

Stupid choice, upon reflection, but fuck it, I’d committed. And she hadn’t noticed. Yet. She was too drunk on power. Victory. It probably felt nice to have someone to gloat to after all these years.

“Are you going to come willingly, or do I have to make you?” Shay asked sweetly, her eyes glowing faintly and the vague smell of brimstone assaulting my olfactory receptors. Those thousand tiny needles were now knives, cutting at my skin, my bones. My teeth gnashed together with the effort it took to stay silent and upright.

A whisper of her power—that’s all it was. The magnitude of that was unnerving to even me. Not one to ever admit I was out of my depth, I might’ve been treading water right then.

“I’ll come for a field trip.” I dusted off my jeans. “Only if you promise no innocent lives will be ended in the process.”

“You think you’re in a position to bargain?” She chuckled. The sound was heavy. Sickening. Wrong.