Page 13 of The Demon’s Sinful Serenade (Silvermist Mates #6)

CHAPTER EIGHT

ZANE

S omething was wrong.

I stared at River's retreating back. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My muscles locked into place as my brain processed what was happening. The warmth that had been building between us, the connection I'd felt—all of it shattered in the space of a few cruel sentences.

But it wasn't right. None of it made sense.

Not just the words, but everything else, too. The way she'd moved, the flat emptiness of her voice, the distant glint in her eyes that I'd never seen before. The River I knew, even at her most sarcastic, had a warmth that radiated from within. This… thing didn't.

My entire body screamed danger . The instinct to follow her, protect her, save her, warred with the agonizing rejection that had ripped open a gaping wound in my chest. I needed answers. And I needed them now.

Because whatever was wearing River's face right now, it wasn't her.

"River!" I called, shoving past a group of sound techs breaking down equipment.

I glimpsed her blue curls disappearing around a corner.

Cursing under my breath, I hurried after her.

She darted around another cluster of staffers, turning sharply.

My foot landed on something slim and metallic.

I glanced down to find one of River's bracelets lying on the ground, several charms loosened to the point of nearly falling off.

Alarm bells blared inside my skull. I snatched up the bracelet and bolted after River. "Hold on. We need to talk."

I rounded the corner and found her casually leaning against a trailer, as if waiting for me.

"Following me already?" The cruel smile that twisted her lips was all wrong. "Pathetic, even for you."

Something dark threaded through her usual rain-washed scent. Decay and rot and smoke, like a forest fire raging through a graveyard.

"You're not River," I growled. I approached slowly, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "River would never be that cruel."

"River" cocked her head, eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "And you think one mediocre fuck means you know that?"

"Get out of her body." I took another step forward, fighting to keep my voice level. "Whatever trick you pulled to possess her, it's over now."

"Her body?" The thing inhabiting River laughed, the sound all wrong coming from her throat.

"Oh, you poor, deluded creature. Do you have any idea what it's like?

Being trapped in darkness, watching her live while I rotted?

" The thing ran River's hands suggestively down her sides. "She owes me this."

Realization snapped into place with bone-crushing force.

Julian.

The possessive gesture with River's hands made bile rise in my throat. My muscles tensed, ready to lunge, flames licking between my fingers. I could burn him out of her. One concentrated blast of fire...

And hurt River in the process.

I forced the flames down, clenching my fists to contain the scorching energy. "Get out of my mate."

Julian's lips stretched into a predatory grin across River's face, the expression twisting her features into something unrecognizable. He trailed her fingers along her collarbone in a parody of seduction.

"Your mate?" he sneered. River's fingers reached for me, playing along my jawline, and it took everything I had not to flinch away. "That's adorable. She can hear you, you know. Screaming inside her own head, begging for help."

My hand shot out before I could stop myself, grabbing River's wrist and wrenching it away from my face. Julian's eyes—River's eyes—widened in mock fear.

"Going to hurt me, demon? Going to hit your precious River?

" He leaned forward, River's blue curls falling across her face.

"That hesitation, that pathetic restraint?

It gives me all the advantage I need. You can't touch me without touching her.

Can't burn me without burning her." His smile widened, sharp and dangerous.

"What good is all that fire if you're too afraid to use it? "

The cruel smirk twisting River's mouth gutted me worse than any blade ever could. Because it was true.

I released my grip on her wrist and stepped backward, clenching my fists against my sides. Icy dread crept up my spine. I didn't know what to do, how to stop this. How to help her.

Fuck. Think.

Julian cocked River's head at me, savoring the power. "River and I are going to spend some quality time together. In fact, I think we'll pay a visit to those interfering witches who tried to banish me. I wonder how they'll fare when they see their friend coming to call?"

Julian's laugh dripped from River's mouth as she melted into the backstage activity. My hands trembled at my sides. Everything inside me screamed to chase after her, to rip that parasitic fucker from her body before he could hurt her further.

Your flames will burn brightest in the shadow of death.

The witch's words from Prague thundered through my mind. Was this what she meant? That I'd find my mate only to lose her to a vengeful ghost? My chest constricted as if someone had punched a hole through it and yanked out everything vital.

Fuck that. I wasn't losing River. Not today. Not ever.

I fought through the paralysis of shock and shoved my way into the flow of festival-goers, scanning for a glimpse of blue curls.

The crowd pulsed around me like a living thing, bodies pressing in from all sides, the scents of beer and sweat and food overwhelming my senses.

I couldn't catch River's distinct petrichor-and-citrus scent beneath it all. Julian had taken that from me, too.

I fumbled for my phone, nearly dropping it twice before managing to call Rava. Each ring stretched into eternity.

"What?" Rava answered, the background noise almost drowning out her voice. "I'm kind of in the middle of?—"

"Where are you?" I barked, already shoving through the crowd toward the Mist & Market section of the festival grounds. "Right now, where?"

Something in my voice must have alerted her. Her tone shifted instantly. "Sombra woodworking booth with Zral. What's wrong?"

"Is Miranda there?" I shouldered past a group of teenagers, ignoring their protests.

"Her booth is right next door. Zane, what's happening?"

"Julian's possessing River," I said, the words tasting like ash. "The exorcism failed. He's controlling her body, and he's coming after the witches."

"Shit." I heard rustling and Zral's voice asking questions in the background. "I'll find Hannah and warn Miranda. Where's Poppy?"

"She should be at her bakery stall," I said, changing direction and pushing toward the food vendor area. "I'm heading there now. Get the witches somewhere safe and call me back."

I ended the call and surged forward, shoving through the dense crowd with little regard for social niceties. A few people called out protests as I muscled past them, but I couldn't care less about hurt feelings when River was trapped inside her own body with that psychotic ghost.

Please don't let me be too late.

I reached Poppy's stall in minutes, breathing hard, only to find it empty. The cheerful display of festival-themed cupcakes and cookies sat abandoned with a hastily scrawled 'Back in 20 minutes' sign propped against the register.

"Fuck," I muttered, spinning in a circle as I scanned the surrounding area. Where would Julian take her? Where could he go that was private enough to?—

My gaze landed on a maintenance shed near the back of the vendor area. Private, out of the way, deserted. Almost certainly unlocked.

I approached silently, ears straining for any sound. Through the flimsy door, I heard Poppy's voice, tight with controlled fear.

"River, what are you doing?" Poppy gasped, her hands clutching at River's wrist. "This isn't funny!"

"Oh, but it is," Julian said, using River's voice in a singsong tone. "It's hilarious how you never saw it. All those years, all those heart-to-heart talks, and you never realized how pathetic I thought you were."

I eased the door open another fraction of an inch, sizing up the situation.

The shed was cramped with maintenance equipment and a fleet of three golf carts.

River—Julian—had Poppy cornered against a wall of gardening tools, one hand gripping her throat just tightly enough to be threatening.

Poppy's eyes were wide with fear, but her expression held confusion more than terror.

She didn't understand what was happening yet.

"Poor, sweet Poppy," Julian crooned, tightening River's grip. "Always there with your nasty cookies and your goofy spells. Always pretending your little bakery makes you special." He leaned closer. "Wasting away your sad little life in this sad little town."

"That's not true," Poppy whispered, tears welling in her eyes. Her fingers tangled in River's bracelets as she tried to peel the fingers from her throat. "River, you know?—"

I'd heard enough. I slammed the door open, the thin metal crashing against the interior wall. "It's not River," I growled. "It's Julian. He's possessing her."

Both heads whipped toward me. Julian's expression darkened while Poppy's cleared with realization.

"Julian?" she repeated, her eyes searching River's face with new understanding. "But we banished you!"

"You tried," Julian corrected, not releasing his grip. "Amateur hour with three hedge witches. Did you really think that would work against me?"

"Step away from her," I ordered, moving further into the small space.

He released Poppy with a shove, sending her stumbling back against the wall. The bracelet around River's wrist snapped, charms scattering across the concrete floor.

"She's fighting me, you know," Julian said. He took a step toward me. "I can feel her clawing at the edges of her own mind. Such delicious desperation."

My vision tunneled, narrowing until all I could see was River's face, twisted into expressions that weren't hers. The shed's walls seemed to close in around us, the air thick with the stench of fertilizer, gasoline, and Julian's rotting presence.