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I take her in all over again. This is no woman. This is agirl. A teenage one.

“No,” I say.

Hellno.

“No what?” she asks.

“I don’t do business with minors.” I don’t know how I have the wherewithal to respond logically. Devils know my reaction had nothing to do with striking a bargain.

Dear fucking Fates and angels, after all this time …

But shouldn’t I feel more than this? The connection soulmates share should snap into place upon meeting.

The fearful exhilaration running through me cools a little. I should not only feel the bond, I should feelherthrough it. All I sense is a tingling in my chest and—

Take her, take what’s yours.

And that.

Shiit.

I’ve heard enough about fae possessiveness to expect this reaction.

Still, there’s something not right about this—aboutme.

It’s an ambush. Someone’s figured your secret out and they’ve set you up.

I begin to disappear.

“Wait—wait!” The girl reaches for me, her voice panicked, and as she does so, her skin flickers, brightening for the barest of seconds.

The moment the magic pulses through her, Ifeelit. It’s almost imperceptible, but for an instant I felt a literal pull on my heartstrings.

The bond.

No, I think, staring at her madly,no.

The prophetess said she would be human, and this girl is not human, not wholly. The prophetess said she’d be my mate, but this encounter doesn’t feel like the instant connection I’ve been waiting for.

Strange fuckery is what this is.

Someone must have cursed me; what I’m feeling has to be some sort of dark enchantment cast by an enemy.

After a moment, the girl’s luminous skin returns to normal.

My eyes thin. “What are you?” I ask.

… siren …

A siren?Of course. The beauty, the bad luck—it all makes sense.

“Please,” the girl pleads, her skin no longer illuminated from within. “I really need to make a deal.”

“Listen,” I say, distracted, “I don’t make deals with minors. Go to the police.” This is the normal spiel I give to underage mortals who call on me. Only this time, I force myself to say the words and play the part. I have to fight the impulse to help her.

“Ican’t,” she says, and I notice now just how badly her hand shakes. “Please, help me.”

Fuck me, why is this so hard?