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“Or something.” Tifa held out a bejeweled hand in a peace offering—at least, I thought that’s what it was—and raised an eyebrow when Ash didn’t move. “Manners,” she tutted.

“I have them. You are full of shit,” Ash said with clarity.

My laugh boomed around the coffeehouse, halting conversation for a moment before the white noise around us resumed.

I swore my fallen star looked pleased, if only for a fraction of a moment.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” I wound the material of her skirt around my fingers, tugging a little.

A flush that I was sure had nothing to do with an oncoming crisis stained her skin, though Sebastian sent me a warning look, and I desisted.

Perhaps we can return to this later.

“Tifa, why don’t you tell Ste–Ash,” I chose my words carefully. “What you think she’s done? We can start from there.”

Ash studied the witch with the same detached curiosity that spoke of the centuries she well outweighed us in age, I was certain. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked distinctly put out that he wasn’t included in the conversation at all.

Tifa shrugged, and her shawls dropped from one shoulder in a practiced move that drew my friend’s attention well away from the tempting morsel at my side.

I suppressed a smile of my own, and resumed tangling my fingers in Ash’s skirt. My distraction was short lived, however, with the witch’s next words.

“I don’t accuse you of anything, and neither should Sebastian. We know who is setting the fires, and setting up your not-phoenix for the fall,” she said sweetly, settling into Sebastian’s side. He slipped an arm around her waist.

The movement that might have bothered me yesterday didn’t hurt my heart half as much as it did tonight.

“Well, don’t keep us waiting,” Ash muttered, the first bit of impatience entering her tone. “Please let me know who I need to incinerate to be able to live free for this generation?”

“Something about manners.” I tapped her leg and found my fingers contacting bare thigh beneath her skirt. Sensation zipped through my hand. Her head snapped to me, and I knew the sharp contact didn’t travel in one direction. “Sorry,” I murmured.

“You’re not.” Her hand covered mine.

“We found her. Anitta.” Sebastian’s good humor dropped, and he pulled Tifa onto his lap.

My head swiveled back toward them and I swore the stone inside my heart cracked right down the middle. “What name did you say?”

“Anitta.” Sebastian looked up at me with red rimmed eyes that told me either he hadn’t drank enough, or had too much, though the witch didn't bear the marks on her neck I’d habitually noticed on Sebastian’s previous wife.

“We didn’t end her that night, my friend.

She has haunted my dreams for months now. ”

“And you thought not to wake me? The woman who ended—” My voice rose to a bellow, and only the gentle hand, half the size of mine that covered my knuckles, brought my volume down. “The– the fucking demoness who ended Minette’s life still exists?” I hissed.

The scones and tea arrived. I sat back contemplating everything that whirled around my head.

“Who is Anitta?” Ash asked.

I leaned back on my pillow, breathing hard. My mouth opened, and I snapped it shut again, glaring at Sebastian. I hadn’t told her in the street, and he could answer her now.

“My sire.” The vampire fixed his heavy gaze on Ash, who watched him with a detached sense of curiosity, as though he was a puzzle she needed to solve. “The creature who created me, just as Dolion told you outside." He tapped his ear to indicate his superior skills.

Ash nodded politely. I suspected she had plenty of her own, and that we needed to constantly not underestimate this woman in all things, but that wouldn’t happen while ever we thought we knew more than she did, or our combined egos—and wallets—got in the way.

“Anitta was not a kind mistress,” Sebastian said baldly. “She took a mere human, stripped me down to nothing more than a blood crazed demon baby and let me rampage for two hundred years. Then, she tried to train me to be like her.”

Ash nodded again. “Did it work?"

Sebastian looked surprised at the question.

“Yes. For a time. Then I pushed her away. It was…not a good time in our history. She chased me, and tried to influence my choices. For a time, she existed in my wife’s head.

Tried to make her harm herself. Killed many we cared about.

She is a powerful being, have no doubt. This will be no easy task.

We already thought—” Sebastian broke off, staring at me.

Memory washed through my mind of everything we did to try to stop Anitta’s dark reign when she returned for him.

The demoness and her control over the witch and her wolves that night.

Sebastian had been unable to kill the woman who sired him, who created him.

My inability to stop the woman I loved from dying.

A necklace of blood red beads at her neck as I carried her from the ashes of the burned out house once she ended—once we all thought she ended—Anitta’s life.

Once we thought the demoness was dead.

And now she returned, playing with us all this time.

As though waiting for us to lull into a false sense of security. To forget. To fall in love.

To play with us again.

My hand folded around Ash’s too tight. Something cracked but she didn’t cry out or pull away. I would not lose someone else to that monstrosity again.

This time when the demoness died, it would be to eternal flame.