Poppy and the demon had entered a room as big as a warehouse.
The scent of formaldehyde stung her nose as she surveyed their new surroundings. Flickering sconces and lightning lit the vast space sporadically, leaving shadowy alcoves. Layers of cobwebs covered haphazard stacks of books.
Above them, rain pounded against a glass dome inlaid with metal bars. A lightning rod protruded from its center. Wires descended from it to branch out like veins through what appeared to be a laboratory.
Some of those wires ran to multiple tanks atop shelves. They looked like cylindrical aquariums, only these were filled with green goo—and body parts.
“I’m getting some mad, mad-scientist vibes.” Despite the alien threat in the hall, Rök yanked on the door latch, but it didn’t budge. “Did the wizard lock his lab from the inside to keep something in?”
She nodded. “Judging by the blood on the door, whatever it was wanted out.”
“Why not just magically barricade this place behind him?”
“It must be a redundancy. Which means we’re trapped within a trap.” The bars in the dome made this place look like a giant cage.
Rök glanced up. “Maybe it’s not completely sealed. I might be able to bust through those bars and have us out of here in time for cocktails. Be right back for you.” He leapt the forty or so feet up to punch the dome. His fist recoiled, and he dropped right back down. “Bloody boundary spell.”
“It surrounds every inch of this place.”
“Fantastic.” Once all grew quiet outside the door, he glanced at her eyes. “The glow is muted. When are more of your visitors going to show?”
“It feels like I’m in a lull, but not a good one. I get the sense that their next visit will be like a tsunami of shit coming my way.”
“Our way,” he said, swiping blood from a horn. “I can’t believe we just faced off against dolls and aliens.” Not to mention those reappearing skeletons. Rök must be wondering how he and Poppy could possibly survive the night. “You have any blast power left?”
She shook her head. “I’m fueling the magic in those pouches but also the visitors. Every time they attack, their outlay takes a toll on me.”
“Once I find out who cursed you, I’ll torture them for centuries on end—teaching them the meaning of agony.”
Even as Rök’s ruthless words charmed her, she felt a murderous heat toward whatever foe had done this to her. “You’ll have to get in line.”
Rök turned back to the lock pad, trying to jimmy it open, but it proved as impenetrable as everything else. “Can you pick this? Wicca it up.”
“I told you—I only have my portal spell left.”
“No innate witchly powers? You’ve got to have something outside of your bag.”
I have nothing! Poppy was only as good as her pouch count. “I’m not a safecracker. Even if I had that talent, the wizard’s power was stronger than mine could ever be.”
“Okay, okay.” Rök assessed the area. “This lab is huge. The castle’s battery could be in here.”
“Or it could be in Poughkeepsie. Magic doesn’t often work like electricity.” So much voltage crackled in this place, her loosened hair felt like it stood on end. Or maybe her earlier realizations were spooking her.
What was at stake: That these embodied visitors will keep coming till they kill me and everyone I love.
What she coveted: A life free of them with a partner who loves and respects me.
What she feared: That I’ll accept anything less—or die before I get a chance at that life.
“Even if we found the battery, I can’t leave,” she told him. “Not until my mission is complete.”
Seeming to choose his words carefully, he said, “With all these vantages and blind corners, this lab will be a kill zone if your visitors reappear in here. We might actually be in trouble.”
She nodded. “Yes. And you should go if you can. I don’t want you to get hurt. But for my part, if I return home empty-handed, I’ll jeopardize my sisters.” She would do anything to protect them, just as they would do anything for her—including putting themselves in danger.
Fierce Lea would charge into the line of fire with a battle cry, studious Sage and mischievous Clove right behind her. Lethal Bella would fight to the death for just about any cause, but especially for Poppy.
“Rök, if I don’t find a way to stop the visitors, I sense that they will kill me and those I love. They won’t quit till we’re all dead.”
He appeared to wrestle with his thoughts. At length, he said, “Do you think the cursebreaker is in here?”
“Maybe?” She had to believe the answer was close.
Both of their gazes settled on an area in a far corner of the lab, one concealed behind an oversize curtain. Never a good sign.
He said, “We’re going behind that curtain, aren’t we?”
“Yep.”
“Not going to like what we see?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing ventured, huh. Just stay close, okay?” He started in deeper, using his enhanced sight to scan the shadows.
As they walked, she ignored the ancient spider eggs crunching beneath their boots and regarded his wounds. The doll’s blade had stabbed him through. “You were really hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, then winced.
His pain called to her, and she had to ball her fists to keep from touching him. “At least you’re regenerating quickly.” His eyes had already healed from the starbursts of red.
He gave a short laugh. “Am I, then?”
Sympathy elicited honesty. “If I don’t get another chance to tell you . . . I have heard all about your exploits, and they aren’t mediocre.”
He gave her a questioning look, as if she might be teasing him again.
“Even before tonight, I recognized how well you fight.” She’d been agog at his skill with a sword, his style a mix of demon brutality and cold precision. Fire and ice. “And your intel is next-level. Everyone knows that.”
“Thanks, Red. I appreciate it. I wish I’d gotten to do research on this place. Not knowing the ins and outs is throwing me.” He hadn’t had a chance because he’d rushed to her side.
“I’m a member of a forum that speculates on the mysteries surrounding Raven’s Murk. It’s a great place to exchange information, except for the literal trolls. They somehow found their way online. Anyway, the message boards contain a ton of details about this castle and the wizard. A lot of it is conjecture, but some has been proven correct.”
“Did those forum members predict this?” Rök waved at their surroundings.
“Could anyone have?”
As they passed the tanks with body parts, he swore low. “This lab couldn’t get any creepier.”
Lightning struck the rod at that moment, the glare blinding them. Electricity buzzed, traveling down the wires to those tanks. One severed leg juddered, the foot kicking the glass with a watery thud thud thud.
“It just did.” The portrait on the landing flashed into her thoughts. “I’m starting to suspect what the wizard was doing here.”
“Don’t say the reanimation of corpses.”
She sighed. “Totally the reanimation of corpses.” Thud thud thud. “He wanted to resurrect his wife and children.”
“Fantastic!”
“You really have a problem with dead things coming back to life.”
“You’ve discovered my no-longer-secret weakness,” Rök said. “He must’ve been keeping his subjects in that dungeon.”
They’d discovered the answer to another mystery: the wizard had indeed turned balls-out evil. “Then he was as horrific as my visitors.”
Rök frowned at her. “At our dinner, you never mentioned your curse, even though we discussed monsters.”
“Not something I lead with on a first date.”
He kicked an empty crate out of their way. “You tell that warlock of yours?”
“Ixius and I shared more than a first date.”
Rök’s jaw muscles bulged. Jealousy from the demon? Delicious.
She’d told Ixius because she’d thought he could help her. But warlocks were tricky, and good ones like her father were rare.
Most hated witches, were intimidated by their feminine strength. Others wanted to siphon off a witch’s power, while giving nothing in return.
Skewing toward the latter, Ixius had been disappointed when Poppy failed to manifest any abilities. In the end, she’d been well rid of him.
Rök said, “When I asked you that night why you thought humans liked horror movies, you got a strange look on your face and told me, ‘Because it feels like a near miss. And in the face of death, life is even more precious.’”
“I remember,” she said, surprised he did.
“You were speaking from experience. Every Halloween your life becomes a horror movie.”
“Now yours has too.” A veil of web wafted over her. She scrubbed her face, spitting against the strands. Pfft!
This entire castle was a web, and she’d flown right into it, dragging Rök in as well. Thanks, Mariketa. How could Poppy keep fighting to find the cursebreaker? How could she not? “I’ll bet you’ve never gone through this much trouble to get laid. You must be regretting your decision to come here.”
His gaze drifted to her lips. “Worth it just for that kiss.”
Her heart sped up from the memory, and judging from his sidelong grin, he heard it. “Oh, come on, Rök. That’s a steep downside for a kiss. We’ve got hours to go, and more unkillable visitors will come.”
“You’d be dead if I hadn’t hitched a ride here with Desh. So I have zero regrets. Remember, I’m not concerned about me. I just want to keep you safe.”
So she hadn’t imagined the worry in his eyes when Annelise had struck. Despite Poppy and Rök’s history, the demon truly cared about her. “Why is it your job to keep me safe?”
“You hired my sword.”
“Now you’ve been paid. But you won’t be happy with one kiss.”
“No.” He gazed down at her. “I won’t.”
Or maybe the player just wanted to check this box. Ugh.
Thud thud thud. That sound needled her; his attitude grated. Soon irritation hummed inside her like the electricity all around. She was pissed to be trapped here, pissed that some asshole somewhere had cursed her. She was super pissed that the demon still affected her like this.
Over the course of a years-long rivalry, one horrendous date, and a perilous castle jaunt, had she ceded a piece of her heart to him?
What if she never got it back? He’d given her another kiss that had turned her inside out, with the promise of nothing more. His kiss was a curse.
Which meant she’d been doubly cursed.
More webs ghosted over her. Pfft. Spider eggs cracked beneath her boots. Lightning forked out. That leg went thud thud thud. Everything about this place charged her temper.
Rök looked like he suffered the same, his shoulder muscles bunching. In a curt tone, he asked, “Are you dead set on dating a warlock?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You told your ex that you’d bring a hundred other warlocks to the table.”
She’d just been keeping with the theme. “Why are my dating standards any of your business? At least I knew he wouldn’t get summoned.”
“Standards, is it? And one more time, I can’t help summonings.”
“You can break your pact with females.” Thud thud thud. “Admit it: you don’t want to.”
“I don’t go out of my way to hurt them. Once I claim my mate, all this will take care of itself. They know I’ll never stray from her.”
I know this too! So why was Poppy even looking at him? “You can’t convince me that you don’t love the attention. The need. You love it, or else you would stop it.” Thud thud thud. Pfft. IRRITATION. “Why did you have to be such a big disappointment?”
He whirled around on her. “Because I’m a demon and demon things happen? You’re a disappointment too—hating me for things I can’t control!”
Danger, attraction, and that wild electricity charged them up like lightning desperate to strike. Words left her lips: “What was so special about the woman who summoned you from our date? Was she sexier than me?” Poppy’s voice broke with emotion. “A better kisser?”
“Are you high? No one’s sexier to me. No one’s a better kisser. Gods, witch, you nearly made me come in my pants in the parking lot!”
She drew her head back in confusion. “Then why didn’t you return to me? Why? ” Her voice cracked on the word, but she was beyond caring.
“I did come back, and you were gone. I told you I sometimes temporarily disappear, was honest about it. You knew I might get summoned, and you still ditched!”
“I waited for an hour!”
“Because I’m a demon, and you don’t want a . . .” He frowned. “I wasn’t gone an hour.”
“That’s when I left, so it was longer. But hey, males tend to lose track of time if they’re balls deep. Did you give a single thought to me, sitting alone in that restaurant?”
Frustration evaporating, he quietly said, “I didn’t think I’d been gone that long.”
“Explain the situation to me. A woman you used to sleep with summoned you because she needed a chess partner? Or some furniture moved? Or, more likely, for sex.”
Lips thinned, he turned to check behind the door of a storage cabinet. “That’s all I ever get summoned for. I serve a function: empty, emotionless sex.”
“You resent that?”
“Maybe. But I understand it. Everybody knows I’m destined for my mate, so no one wants anything more.” He faced her. “The fact remains: Poppy, I didn’t bed anyone that night.”
“Then what took an hour? Did you get caught in a time warp?” Cadeon had gotten caught in one with a beautiful demoness, leading Holly to suspect the worst.
Rök shook his head. He parted his lips to speak, then seemed to think better of what he’d been about to say. Finally he muttered, “I got summoned again. And again. Maybe a few times after that. Erol’s must’ve been running a drink special or something. And it was a Saturday night.”
“Oh, Hecate, what a piece of work! You’re like a debauched pinball bouncing around from one score to the next.” And she’d dared to consider placing herself into the rotation?
“I didn’t sleep with anyone!” Could that possibly be true? “I made my usual excuses, but extricating myself takes time. More than I figured, I guess. Being summoned isn’t like teleporting. It’s a mind fuck. I never know where I’ll appear. I get taken from a dead sleep or right when I sit down to a meal I’m looking forward to. And then that night with you, everything was perfect. Everything was prelude.” He cupped her face in his big hands, and she could feel the calluses from his sword. “We both knew we’d finish what we started in the parking lot. For the first time in my life, I wanted to create a summoning pact.”
She exhaled a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh.
“I dream about taking you.” His attention dipped to her lips again. “If danger wasn’t all around and a severed leg giving us mood music, I’d be kissing you right now, kissing you long and slow. I’d do it till you got so wet for me and craved me inside you so bad. . . . You said you don’t beg, but I could make you.”
The irresistible charge between them dwarfed even the lightning. She angled her chin up. The tip of her tongue decided to daub her bottom lip.
His pupils enlarged as he clocked her mouth. “Fuck, Red, you love to tease me. You play with me.”
“I play with you?”
“You look down on demons. You want a warlock for your man.”
“I just want someone who’ll be true to me. I don’t care what species he is!”
“Yeah?” he asked, his tone saying, Really?
“Yeah,” she answered, her tone saying, Duh! “I can’t trust my own magic; I can’t trust my fellow Loreans until I find out who cursed me. But I have to be able to trust my partner.”
All the ire seemed to drain from him. “No wonder you wouldn’t give me the time of night after our date.”
“You have to admit the situation looked bad,” she said. “And you do have a certain reputation. But now I’m glad we’ve gotten everything out in the open.”
Had his eyes darted?
“Rök?”
“C’mere.” He reached for her. “You’ve picked up a spiderweb.” He teased it out of her hair until her lids went heavy, her own irritation melting away.
Though she’d steeled herself against his charisma and effortless charm, this tenderness might prove her undoing.
“I need to focus on keeping you safe.” He brushed his knuckles along her jawline. “But when I’ve delivered you from this place, I’m going to make love to you.”
His confidence shouldn’t be that sexy. “You sound sure of yourself.”
“Done deal.” His gaze gleamed with anticipation.
Maybe that was exactly what needed to happen. She could enjoy him, getting him out of her system. She wouldn’t become a swimbo—because she would never summon him again.
Thud thud thud. That sound broke the moment for Poppy. “More mood music.”
He glowered in that direction. “Time to push on, huh?” When she nodded, he took her hand in his, and they continued deeper into the lab.
Was Poppy his fated one? Still doubtful. But Rök was trying. And he did care about her.
Expectation filled her, changing her entire outlook. This threatening place didn’t bother her. The past didn’t bother her. They would find a way out of this lab, break the curse, then enjoy each other.
For just one night.
Buoyed by that knowledge, her steps were lighter, her lips curving on their own.
Reading her thoughts once more, he said, “Everything is prelude again, isn’t it?”
They’d reached the curtain, prompting her to remind him, “If we survive.”
“The motivation of all motivations.” He drew the cloth back, revealing steps to a platform. Chucking her under the chin, he started up.
As they climbed, she murmured, “We’re in deep.”
“Heard it’s the only way to swim,” he murmured back. “Just stay frosty.”
“Ah-firmative.”
Atop the platform stood what looked like an old transformer, with voltage meters and levers. Positioned beside it was a stainless steel table. Metal restraints jutted from it like ribs, but they’d been wrenched open.
Rök tested one of the restraints. “No mean feat to break these. That wizard must’ve thought Frankenstein was a how-to manual—and he actually brought something to life, something strong. How’d he do it? Electricity and magic?”
She nodded. “You’d be amazed at what those two elements can do. Talk about a haunted house with a history.”
“Then where’s the subject? Was that its blood on the door?” The unspoken question: Is it inside with us?
“It can’t still be alive, right? It’s been locked in here for potentially decades. There’s no food. Even the spiders and rats all died out.”
“None of this is in my wheelhouse.”
She and Rök edged past the gurney. Behind it sprawled a decapitated corpse in a bloodstained lab coat. The severed head lay nearby. White hair covered the scalp, the gnarled face frozen in a macabre scream.
Poppy said, “Meet the castle’s owner.”
“And more.” Rök pointed to a long, lumpen form not far away on the platform. “That was the subject.”
An emaciated body lay facing away from them, clad only in tattered pants. Its bare back revealed crisscrosses of staples across its discolored skin. Had the wizard created it out of . . . male Loreans?
Rök whistled low. “Looks like a revenant went through a blender. So this wretch killed its creator, then died? At least it didn’t have to tangle with a mob of torch-bearing villagers.”
“They would’ve come in the shitty sequel.”
When Rök started toward it, Poppy said, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t not see it.” He seemed entranced, smoke rising from his skin.
“Take it from me: you won’t be able to unsee it either.”
Rök continued forward, caught in the horror-flick tractor beam. . . .
