Page 13 of Demon with Benefits (Hell Bent #3)

LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE

I RIS WAS LATE FOR THE COVEN MEETING.

Worse, Lily was already there, and now Suyin was texting Iris wondering if she was okay. Iris was usually there hours early, organizing or studying or doing whatever. The coven was her life. It was where she spent all her time. It consumed her every thought.

Well, it had .

It was blizzarding tonight, the sky one big cloud illuminated by city lights, the snow coming down with a vengeance.

After tucking Faust into her coat, Iris stepped outside and dug around her pockets for her keys.

She still needed to lock the door, and somehow, she’d managed to lose them in the seconds it had taken her to leave the house.

Or maybe she was just distracted.

Thoughts about a certain red-eyed demon kept dancing through her head, churning her up inside.

Against her will, she kept reliving how his fingers had felt sliding against her.

God, and the way he kissed, his lips firm and demanding.

She just knew he’d be dynamite in the bedroom. What would it feel like to—

“Good evening.”

She jumped and spun around. A man she’d never seen before stood beside her, having just stepped out of the apartment next door. He already had his keys in hand like a smart person, and he smoothly slipped one into the lock and then smiled politely at her.

“Evening.” Iris went back to searching her coat pockets until her fingers finally closed around her own bundle of keys.

“You live here, I presume?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then I suppose we’re neighbors.”

She studied the guy. He was tall and lean, graceful in a male-model sort of way.

As he finished locking the door, he tucked his hands into a long wool coat that didn’t look warm enough for the weather, yet he gave no indication he was cold.

A thin scarf was tucked around his clean-shaven chin, and his collar was flipped up to hide the ends of his tawny hair.

“You just moved in?” she asked.

All in all, he looked way too put together to be living in this apartment building or even this neighborhood.

He looked like he ought to live in Griffintown or Westmount or anywhere but the funky artist’s district.

Where would he park his BMW? Because there sure weren’t any private covered parking garages on this block.

“Yesterday.” He blinked, a frown appearing between his elegant brows. “Is that a dog in your coat?”

“What? Oh, yeah, this is Faust.” She turned a little to give him a better view of Faust’s little black head peeking out of her partly unzipped coat. Faust proceeded to wiggle frantically, to the point where Iris could barely keep a hold on him.

“Faust?” The man chuckled, and even that sounded polished. “What an interesting name.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s very cute.”

“Thanks.”

He was giving Iris an unreadable look that made her vaguely uncomfortable, and she started wondering how long this awkward conversation was going to last.

“Your accent,” he said. “Where is it from?”

Her lips pressed together. She went to great lengths to hide her accent and blend in for her and Lily’s protection. And, when they’d first moved here, some dickhead had told her to say “Irish Iris” three times fast, which provided further motivation.

That her new neighbor had picked out she had one so quickly annoyed her. They lived in a multicultural city full of people with different accents—Anglophones speaking French, Francophones speaking English, and people from all over the world. Why fixate on hers?

“Australia,” she replied, just to fuck with him.

His brows briefly pinched together, and then he shrugged as if deciding not to inquire further. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. Enjoy the neighborhood.”

“Have a pleasant day.”

She almost snorted. It seemed odd to wish someone a pleasant day before stepping into a blizzard.

After he’d descended the stairs to the street, she waited a minute or two to make sure he was gone before locking her own door and heading down. It was awkward enough meeting him; the last thing she wanted was to get stuck walking beside him if they were heading in the same direction.

Le Repaire des Sorcières was only a five-minute walk from Iris’s place (part of the reason she’d chosen the flat), so she didn’t have to fight the blizzard for long. She entered the front of the shop with her key and locked up behind her since they were always closed for business during meetings.

Heading past the dusty shelves of incense, semiprecious stones, and other occultist knickknacks, Iris ducked through the beaded curtain into the back room.

There, messy piles of stock had been cleared out of the way of the hidden door—which wasn’t so hidden tonight, since the ward had been deactivated for the meeting—and she descended the narrow, creaking stairs to the expansive cellar.

The Montreal coven numbered about two dozen witches.

Only three of them—Iris, Lily, and Suyin—were blood-born.

The rest were practitioners—regular humans born without any natural gifts who voluntarily chose to immerse themselves in the supernatural world, giving up Heaven’s protection in favor of learning witchcraft.

Because they were born with their gifts, blood-borns were naturally more powerful and practicing came easier to them.

They were also forsaken by Heaven’s protection from birth.

Demons were not allowed to kill humans, and the consequences of breaking those rules were severe.

But humans that dabbled in the supernatural were free game.

Iris had used to commend practitioners for refusing to live in ignorance—normal humans had to train vigorously to develop the Sight. To her, being unaware of the monsters lurking in the shadows, disguised by glamor, sounded horrible.

But since she’d met Meph and the other rogues, her whole perspective had changed.

Now, she couldn’t help thinking practitioners were foolish. She’d realized that, even with all their training, if any of them ever faced a truly powerful demon, they would die. Not one of them was equipped to combat a real threat, and that terrified her most of all.

“Iris, glad you could join us,” Suyin said from her place in the large circle of chairs. Her eyes narrowed at the fluffy wriggling hound in Iris’s arms. “And I see you brought a pet.” She did not look impressed.

Seated a few chairs over from Suyin, Lily was also glaring at Iris, evidently not happy that she’d arrived at the meeting before her.

With a sheepish smile at her sister and best friend, Iris skirted around the edge of the large cloaking sigil on the floor and approached the circle. She barely glanced at the sigil, but she felt its presence glaringly nonetheless.

That simple yet powerful spell—created by her brilliant mam—had saved her and Lily’s lives, but it was also the reason their parents were dead.

The night of the twins’ eighteenth birthday, at the moment they had come fully into their magic, the cloaking had fallen for a brief instant—just long enough for Valefor’s tracking spells to discover their location.

By the time he’d arrived, it had already been repaired.

When Valefor had burned down the building with the coven inside it, Iris had been mere meters away, and he’d never known she was there.

After Iris and Lily moved to Canada, the Montreal coven had recreated the cloaking spell and maintained it ever since.

Lily hadn’t had a clue until a few months ago when she’d discovered the truth of why their parents died from Mist. Before then, she’d believed what the police report had said—that they’d died in an arson fire.

Iris had been complicit in that lie, knowing the truth but never telling Lily, and the guilt still made her feel sick when she thought about it.

“Meet my new dog,” Iris announced to the group as she crossed into the circle, holding him up. Everyone proceeded to fuss over Faust, much to Suyin’s consternation, and it was a good ten minutes before they managed to get settled again.

“Okay, everyone, please calm down. Take your seats. This is a coven, not a dog show.” For once, Suyin looked flustered, and Iris inwardly smiled. It took a lot to ruffle her friend’s feathers, and it was always a little fun when she managed it.

Iris liked to think of Suyin as a cross between a goth queen and a biker ballerina.

Of Chinese descent, Suyin’s skin was light olive, and her black hair was thick and luxurious, dead straight and falling to her mid-back.

She had a short fringe cut above her brows, and she wore so much dark makeup that her eyes almost disappeared.

Despite her fierce demeanor, she was petite and graceful, but god help any man who reminded her of that.

In summer, she rode a Harley. In winter, she drove a rusty old Civic. And in every season, she wore black and combat boots. In Iris’s humble opinion, she was hot as hell.

“What are we practicing today, oh wise leader?” Iris asked as everyone finally settled down. She scratched Faust’s ears, trying to get him to sit calmly on her lap the way he did on Raum’s.

Of course he squirmed relentlessly and tried to eat her fingers. What was that damn demon’s secret?

“I had a dream last night,” Suyin said.

Everyone perked up. Witches loved dreams.

“I saw a crow flying over the face of the sun. At first, his wings appeared wild and beautiful, and they seemed to cradle its face lovingly. But as I watched, the crow grew and grew, until suddenly, his form covered it completely, and the day turned to night.”

Someone gasped. Everyone else was silent. Except Lily, who made the smallest snort and then tried to cover it with a cough.