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As I wait for her to answer, I make the mistake of breathing in through my nose. Fuck. This place smells dangerously delicious. It’s a concoction of human blood, all congested and desperate to be devoured. I’m still feeling it, the heady overwhelm of bloodlust, when the door swings open.

It’s Tessa, not Grace. Her dark eyes widen in surprise, and I capitalize on it.

I’m through the door before she fully realizes it’s me.

I slam the door behind me and glance over the space.

There’s a collection of dark furniture and a fish tank in the corner.

The whole place reeks of sage and looks like an elderly woman’s library.

It’s hard to believe pretty and poised Grace lives here .

“What…” Tessa trails off, her eyes snapping from me to the motionless man over my shoulder. Her mouth continues bobbing, but no sounds come out.

I unceremoniously dump the building owner onto the floor. His head smacks a kitchen chair as he falls. Two bruises and counting.

“You’re from the bar,” Tessa finally says. She’s blinking rapidly, as if she’s trying to make sense of my appearance.

I study her, the way she balks at me, the way she steps away, eyes flickering toward the owner’s body. She’s confused and scared, but it’s clear…

“Little Gracie didn’t tell you, did she?” I ask. I can’t keep the smile from pulling over my teeth. Of all the possibilities I considered, this isn’t one of them. “She came home last night and acted like everything was fine. Is that right? As if she hadn’t torn a fucking hole through my chest. ”

Tessa’s own chest heaves, but she remains silent, eyes wild.

“To be clear,” I say, stepping over the building owner’s body, crowding Tessa’s space. “I don’t mean a metaphorical hole, like she hurt my feelings. I mean a fucking hole. Right through the skin and bone. Left me to bleed out in a fucking park.”

I don’t realize I’ve raised my voice, that I’m screaming, until a closed door springs open. Grace stumbles into the living room. She’s wearing a frilly pajama set, white and dotted with miniature hearts. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head, and her face is clean of makeup.

Beautiful, terrible little witch. She doesn’t have any right to look comfortable and content after what she did to me.

“No,” she says. Her voice is barely more than a trembling breath. “You’re…You should be…You were…”

“Dead?” I offer.

Keeping myself between the women and the door, I push forward until they’re both standing in their cramped, hideous living room. From the corner of the room, a pair of guppies stare at me with blank black eyes.

“Unfortunately, little witch, I am more difficult to kill than that.”

“Grace, what is he talking about?” Tessa demands. For the first time, she looks away from me and the owner lying prone behind me, to stare at Grace. “He’s lying, right?”

“Call 911,” is Grace’s only response. She’s trembling, near vibrating, but her blue eyes remain locked on mine. “He’s dangerous , Tessa.”

“Rich words from a murderer,” I say. Before Tessa can move, I wrap a hand around her throat, keeping her in place. I’m squeezing hard enough that her breath catches.

“It was self-defense,” Grace stutters. Her lip wobbles, and the tears start falling. She looks from me to her friend, to the unconscious man behind me. “Just let Tessa go. She has nothing to do with this. Neither does he.”

I tsk at her, squeezing Tessa’s throat again. Her hands clasp over my wrist, nails digging hard enough to draw blood.

“You don’t even know who this man is,” I say. “He could very well deserve it.”

“Not if you’re involved,” Grace says. “Just…Please, Sebastian. Don’t hurt them to punish me.”

“Ahh, so you agree you deserve to be punished?” I ask.

I tug Tessa into me, flattening her back to my chest. She’s fallen perfectly still, except for her pulse jumping against my palm.

“I’m sorry,” Grace says. She’s talking to Tessa, not me, tears dripping to her chin. “I didn’t—it was self-defense. And I didn’t know…I couldn’t…I panicked, Tessa. I don’t even know what happened?—”

“Sure you do,” I say, cutting her off. “You used your nasty little witch magic on me, tried to split me right in half. Then you waltzed home, acted like everything was fine, and pretended it never happened. Isn’t that right?”

Grace doesn’t respond. She won’t even look at me, and it sends a stab of irritation through my gut.

Even now, with her life at stake, with her friend in peril, she’s not cowering like she should.

I’m not sure she’s listening to a single word I say, so I’m startled when her hard blue eyes flick to mine.

“Let my friend go, right now, or I’ll finish what I started,” she snaps. The first time I saw her eyes, I thought they made her look delicate. Like a flower, like an innocent. Now, they’re the startling blue at the base of a flame, beautiful but dangerous.

“You so much as lift a finger, and I’ll snap her neck,” I say.

My voice flows easy, like unraveled velvet.

Despite the tears on Tessa’s face and the terrified fury of Grace’s expression, I feel calmer than I have in days.

This is where I thrive, where my mind operates best. “I’ll snap her neck, rip your landlord to shreds, and drag you to the Echo with those pesky hands tied behind your back. ”

Tessa lets out a quiet sob. Her body shudders against mine, and once the trembling starts, it radiates through her every breath. She’s sobbing within seconds, and the unbreakable bad-ass persona she’s created shatters in my hands.

Fucking humans. They’re all the same once threatened. They cower and crumble and fall to pieces at the first sign of a threat.

“You know my father,” Grace says.

“I did.”

“Is he dead?”

“Yes.”

Grace doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t look to Tessa for help. She doesn’t even glance at the unconscious man in her kitchen. She only glares at me, hands tightened into fists.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asks. “If I go with you, what’s going to happen?”

Not if , but when , I want to correct. I don’t let myself speak that out loud. Grace is coming with me, tonight, but it will undoubtedly be easier if she comes willingly.

“As I said, I need your help.” I step closer, dragging Tessa with me, until I’m close enough to Grace, I could grab her. “You won’t be harmed. And once you’re done, you’ll be set free.”

“If only you were fae,” she whispers. “I might believe you.”

She throws both hands toward me, palms out, fingers bent. I clench, tightening my hand over Tessa’s throat. There’s a heavy beat, a pause, where none of us breathe.

And then…

“Oh come on!” Grace screams. She waves her hands again, thrusting them toward me with little rhyme or reason. “Do something!”

“Mmm, looks like you need practice, little witch,” I say, grinning at her. “You’ve played all your cards, and now you’re empty-handed.”

She whirls away from me, sprinting for her bedroom. I let her go. She’s probably going for her phone. Let her call. We’ll be long gone before the police arrive.

“Don’t kill me,” Tessa whispers. “Look, my name is Tessa McDowell. I’m twenty-six. When I was little, I wanted to own a Christmas tree farm. Now, I want to do something with animals, even though I’m allergic?—”

“Save your don’t-kill-me speech for someone else,” I grunt. I dig through my coat pocket until I find the blue and yellow vials.

I spin around, pressing Tessa’s back to her black bookshelf. Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth, as if to scream. Before she gets the chance, I’m pouring both vials down her throat.

As much as I’d prefer to snap her neck and move on with it, Grace might be more amenable if she knows I didn’t kill her new roommate. If nothing else, she’ll make good bartering power in the future.

A strange gurgling sound bursts from Tessa’s mouth as I force the liquid between her teeth. She’s trying to reject it, to keep from swallowing, but I don’t give her the choice. I pinch her nose, force her to swallow, just so she can take a breath.

Once she has, she gasps erratically and starts sobbing. She’s gagging and spasming in my hands, and I briefly wonder if it was deadly to combine the potions. I should have asked Cora.

Something heavy smashes against the back of my head. If I were in sunlight, it would have undoubtedly taken me down. But here, in the darkness of night and in the protection of Grace’s apartment, I barely feel it.

I release my hold on Tessa, satisfied when her body folds to the floor.

“What did you do?” Grace sobs. She pushes past me and crouches beside her roommate.

“She’s fine,” I drawl. “Check her pulse if you must. She’ll wake tomorrow with a nasty headache and little memory of today.”

“You killed her,” Grace says. She’s patting at Tessa’s cheeks, shaking her shoulders as if to wake her.

“I didn’t,” I say. I roll my eyes, not at Grace, but at myself. Why am I even bothering? I don’t need Grace to like me, and from the fact she just tried to kill me again, I should know better than to try.

“Help is coming,” Grace tells Tessa’s unmoving body. “They’ll be here any minute.”

Grace is too busy fretting over Tessa. It’s a massive flaw. Caring about people makes you vulnerable. She’s an easy target now that I understand her weakness—and what a pathetic human weakness it is.

Grace doesn’t see me move, and by the time the purple vial is at her lips, it’s too late to fight me. She coughs and thrashes and gags, but ultimately, she goes down as easily as her roommate.

She collapses to the floor, eyes open, slowly blinking up at me. Every other part of her has gone limp .

“Sorry, little witch,” I tell her. “Can’t risk those powers coming out.”

I swear, those blue irises turn to flame all over again.

I scoop her into my arms, stepping over Tessa as we go. I pause at the landlord. I should have given him a potion—the red confusion one would have been perfect.

Oh well. No changing it now.

I shift Grace to direct her eyes to the ceiling. She can’t see when I step on the man’s neck, but she might hear the way his throat collapses, the way his final breath chokes between his lips.

Once I’m sure he’s dead, I push through the door. I run the entire stretch from Grace’s apartment to my own manor, feeling the push of destiny—of hope —for the first time in years.