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My mind screamed in both horror and embarrassment. But mostly horror. What was he saying? It was so… so…

Stupid.

He had to be testing my resolve. There was no other explanation for this over-the-top behavior. He couldn’t really be flirting with me—it was too terrible.

But how long would this continue? Would I be shunned if I succumbed and ruined the boundaries of our friendship? I hadn’t been with them very long, but they were nicer friends than Finn had been .

I would simply have to get better.

“Oh, come on, you lovesick fool.” Mr. Weaver’s chastising voice cut through my thoughts. “Stop dilly-dallying with the Abernathy spawn. There’s pork to be examined. You can do whatever foolish girly thing you want afterward.”

Although Damen couldn’t hear his words, the heat was still flooding my face. The headache returned with a vengeance. I turned to Mr. Weaver, unable to stop the annoyance in my voice. “Will you stop being so mean to me? Why can’t you just go away?”

Pain exploded through my skull, causing a white light to spike in my vision. All senses faded. When I returned to myself and processed what was happening, I was crouched on all fours, puking my guts out.

“Bianca!” Damen exclaimed as he held my shoulders. As my barfing slowed, he kept me steady against him. He sounded distraught and a bit unsure of what to do—evident in his clumsy but very sweet attempts at wiping my mouth with a cloth handkerchief.

As I stopped, he pulled me into his arms and sat cross-legged on the ground.

I had no energy to think—except maybe to wonder what he thought about this body language.

He didn’t remark on it, though; his voice was soothing as he rocked and cradled me against him.

“Baby, don’t worry. You’re okay now. I’ll take care of it. ”

Baby?

What happened to my other nickname? This one was even more infantizing. I was no one’s ‘baby.’ But I couldn’t begrudge him taking such liberties… the man was now well acquainted with my bodily fluids. That kind of bond had a way of breaking down barriers .

Then, the last part of his statement was registered. He’d take care of what?

My blood turned to ice as I saw that my suspicions were confirmed. The shikigami—in all its flamboyant bird glory—floated between Mr. Weaver and us.

He couldn’t exorcise the ghost! He’d said he wouldn’t do that around me!

Mr. Weaver gazed coolly at the bird, neither seemingly afraid nor surprised. The old man turned his attention from the bird back to me and frowned. “Are you quite finished making a fool of yourself?”

The bird bristled, and Damen’s arms tightened around me. “Don’t talk to her like that!”

I glanced at him. This was the second time I’d seen him interact with a spirit, but the first time I’d seen him speak to one directly.

So, I was right. I narrowed my eyes at the shikigami—it had something to do with this.

“Hey.” Damen squeezed my shoulder. “Is he giving you trouble?”

This was not the first time that I noticed Damen as eager to jump into a fight as his younger brother. Who did he think he was, my bodyguard?

It couldn’t be anything else. He definitely wasn’t my boyfriend.

“Not really,” I told him. There was no real reason to dispose of Mr. Weaver today.

While he was a frustrating man and a terrible cook, it wasn’t like one woke up in the morning expecting to be murdered.

I stood up, stepped away from Damen, and brushed off my skirt. “I think it’s kind of sad,” I told him.

Besides, I had to figure out how to make Mr. Weaver move toward the light on my own. That was my job .

Mr. Weaver made an offended sound, but the shikigami caught my attention. It had craned his long, elegant neck at my words until it looked directly at me.

As creepy as it was, I also couldn’t look away from its beady, black eyes. It almost felt as though I was being assessed. It was more than a bit disturbing.

I wasn’t in any mood to be judged by an animal.

“She’s exactly as the legends have foretold,” the bird creature said in a guttural, curiously accented voice. “You’ll need to watch this one,” he told Damen.

I jumped—unable to help myself—and grabbed Damen’s arm. I hadn’t imagined it at all. The thing had been seizing me up!

And what was with this unflattering analysis?

“It can talk!” I pulled at Damen’s sleeve. “Is that normal?”

“What?” Damen blinked, seemingly surprised himself, before he shook his head. “No… Well—” he looked at me. “No need to worry, Bianca. I’ve expected Kasai to talk eventually—just maybe not this soon.”

That didn’t exactly answer my question.

“So it’s not normal?” I clarified. Perhaps my presence had broken something. “Because I’m pretty sure it didn’t speak before.”

“Perhaps I never had anything to say,” the bird—Kasai—responded. It sounded cheerful, but I wasn’t sure animals could feel amusement.

I gaped as the voice stunned me for the second time. I couldn’t figure out what made it so pleasing to the ear.

Damen began to regain his composure. “Stop joking around.” He looked at his companion, who only ruffled its feathers in response. He then turned his attention to me. “It’s not unheard of for shikigami to communicate with human language—they can take on an animal or human appearance. ”

My earlier suspicions were confirmed. The thing even had the audacity to preen as it radiated glee at my scrutiny.

“Stop that.” Damen had also noticed the bird’s actions. “Ignore it,” he told me. “Kasai just likes you.”

I couldn’t let my guard down. I’d learned early on to trust in my instincts, and it was evident that something unnatural was happening here.

Bonded. Realms.

The cursed creature was a demon.

And, apparently, considering its newfound ability to speak, it’d gained power!

Damen was far too calm about this situation for my liking.

But it all made perfect sense. After all, these were obviously the signs of demonic possession: conjuring ceremonies, spiritual forces, and strangely erotic accents.

Somehow, despite his power and status, Damen had become the vessel of this creature and his demonic plans. How long had he been this way? How could the others have missed what was happening? Without my assistance, Damen would eventually be drained of his life force and die.

I had to save him. I refused to lose my friend to a servant of Satan.

But I would have to be clever about it. Demons were tricky beings. The bird would know something was up. It would be looking for weakness and would be distrustful.

I narrowed my eyes at Kasai, and it cocked his head back at me. Watching. Plotting.

“She’s going to try to purify me,” it said.

I gasped and touched my chest. Mostly in surprise at the horrible but true words. “Why would you—”

“Please don’t mess with my shikigami, baby girl.” Damen looked at me knowingly.

Now, I was offended. I’d been downgraded back to ‘baby girl,’ and our previously earned intimacy had been lost. This was all Kasai’s fault.

“You shouldn’t be strong enough to pull a stunt like this. What did you do?” Mr. Weaver snapped. He edged away from the bird, eyeing it warily. “Regardless, you can’t exorcise me—Gregory wouldn’t take that kindly.”

“We’ll see.” Damen didn’t sound at all frightened. “I wouldn’t count on his good-natured feelings. Dr. Stephens has only less than pleasant things to say lately.”

“Hold on.” I latched on to Damen’s arm, looking up at him. “Dr. Stephens, your mentor? Damen, you can’t exorcise his friend.”

“Watch me.” Damen didn’t seem to be conflicted about this at all.

“I’m not his friend,” Mr. Weaver replied simultaneously. “We are, unfortunately, brothers.”

That was an even stronger bond than friendship!

“Damen!” I tugged more urgently. He was going to lose his internship, all to defend my honor. “Damen, don’t—”

The tension in his arms relaxed slightly, and after a moment, he sighed. “Fine.” He sounded put out. “But another demeaning word toward Bianca, and I won’t hesitate.” He uncrossed his arms, and before I even had time to register what was happening, he pulled me back into his embrace.

There was something strangely possessive in how he held me, and the feel of his much larger frame wrapped around mine caused my cheeks to grow warm.

Damen and Mr. Weaver continued to bicker over my head, but it was impossible to follow their conversation. My focus turned to the following problem: Damen’s change in attitude since my identity had been revealed.

I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but since it’d come out that I was Mu, Damen’s intention behind his physical touches seemed different somehow.

More sincere, but also a bit sad. His recent actions had made him harder to ignore, but I must—for the situation had drastically changed.

From what I thought before was a test of our friendship’s boundaries, I now knew it to be something more: demonic possession.

“Abernathy!” someone shouted, and the conversation around me halted. Damen’s hand tightened on my shoulder as a dark-haired officer with a handlebar mustache stepped onto the porch.

“Seth collapsed,” the serious-looking, pale-skinned officer said. “I think he’s been poisoned. I have to make sure things don’t escalate. Can you—”

“Right.” Damen rolled his shoulders. His hold on me loosened as he reached into his jacket. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Jamie.”

By the time the man went back inside, Mr. Weaver had disappeared and Damen was already on the phone. I couldn’t make out the whole conversation as Damen relayed the news, but the muffled voice on the other end sounded similarly calm and collected.

Completely unlike me in any emergency.

An officer had been poisoned. What happened to the bystanders in situations like these? I’d probably be asked to provide a testimony. Maybe I’d even become one of the primary suspects.

My breathing increased as my chest swelled. What a terrifying—yet thrilling—turn of events.

“And, Titus,” Damen’s smooth voice recaptured my attention, and I craned my neck as I looked at him. “I’d hurry if I were you. Bianca’s here, and who knows what might happen.”

My breath caught. Titus was coming? But why ?

Damen returned his phone to his pocket, mumbling something before suddenly stiffening .

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His attitude shifted, and he grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Bianca, you didn’t eat anything, did you?”

“No!” I fought the urge to slap away his hands. I couldn’t believe he thought I’d steal random food from a crime scene. I had standards. “Why did you call Titus?”

“Why?” Damen frowned, confusion entering his expression. “Are you still afraid of him? I thought the two of you worked that out.”

I wanted to pull out my hair in frustration. “I’m talking about the dead police officer! What does Titus have to do with any of this?”

“Oh.” His panic abated, and he waved his hand. “Seth isn’t dead. And what did I tell you about relaxing? Your cortisol levels must be extremely high.”

“Whose fault is that?” I pointed at him. Was everything a joke to him? “But he’s been poisoned! He could die. Why aren’t you worried?”

“Poison won’t kill him,” Damen responded dryly, ushering me toward the doorway. “In fact, it will probably do him some good.”

I remained at a loss for words as we returned to the crime scene.