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Jenna’s body is cooling on the bakery floor. Donovan’s body is a crumpled heap in front of the door. And Parker—Parker is gone. The police still haven’t come. The blood hasn’t dried. The lights flicker like they’re mourning too.

I stand in the middle of the carnage, my breath sharp, ragged, hands clenched at my sides. My heart won’t stop hammering. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to move , to do something —but I don’t know what the fuck to do.

The demon watches me, arms crossed, a picture of infuriating calm. He stands out like a sore thumb against the cutesy pastry decorations. He’s too tall, his frame almost brushing the hanging lights. His eyes, too fucking similar to Parker’s, seem to cut through me like razors.

No one should look like that. Nothing should look like that.

I hate him.

I hate that he’s just standing there , like this is just another day. Like Parker isn’t gone and I didn’t just watch her get dragged into the fucking dark while I fucking stood there.

Sirens begin blaring in the distance.

Shit. We need a plan. A way to follow her. Something.

I grit my teeth and turn to the demon, barely keeping my frustration in check.

“Alright, genius,” I bite out. “What the fuck do we do now?”

He doesn’t even blink. “Don’t look at me, human. You’re the one who let her get taken.”

Red explodes behind my eyes. I don’t think. I just move. My fist flies at his smug, unbothered wolfish face but he dodges effortlessly, like I’m moving in slow motion.

“You wanna blame me?” the hairy fucker taunts, voice dripping with amusement. “Fine. You wanna throw hands? Also fine. But it won’t bring her back. And it’s wasting time. Something mortals like you don’t have much of.”

I snarl and swing again, but he sidesteps, shaking his head.

“I’d say this is pathetic,” he muses, “but honestly? I expected this much.”

I swear to God . No, not God, Satan? Who the fuck calls the shots when demons are involved?

I lower my fists, chest heaving, and stab a finger at him. “You’re a demon, right? That means you have connections. Favors. Call one in.”

The hairy asshole blinks, then snorts. “What, like I have some demon hotline ?”

I ignore him. “What about portals? Just—open one to wherever she is. That’s a thing, right?”

He actually laughs. “Oh yes, let me just dial up my contacts in the Evergloom— oh wait, I don’t have any .”

I drag a hand through my hair, frustration mounting. “Then fucking track her !”

The demon-beast stares at me like I just suggested he sniff the floor like a goddamn bloodhound. But if that’s something in his skill set, maybe I should.

“I may be a beast, but do I look like a fucking search dog?”

I guess that’s out. I throw my hands in the air. “So you’re telling me you, Mr. All-Powerful Nightmare Demon , can’t do jack shit?”

He leans forward, teeth flashing in something that isn’t a smile. His too-sharp canines glint in the dim bakery light. “Oh, I can do plenty, human .”

I don’t like the way he says that.

I don’t like the way his eyes gleam, like he knows something I don’t.

The furry fucker steps closer, too close, and for the first time since this nightmare started, his expression changes. The amusement fades, and his lips curve into something almost intrigued as his gaze flicks downward. Right to my hair.

Right to the white streak.

I barely register the shift before he hums, slow and thoughtful. “ Oh. ”

I stiffen. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes narrow, calculating, as he studies me. And then he grins.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his voice silk and shadows. “Maybe you’re not useless after all.”

I take a step back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The demon tilts his head. “Because that ”—he gestures at my hair—“isn’t just for show, idiot.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

His grin widens. “That mark isn’t simply aesthetic, Hobson. It’s a tether .” He taps his temple. “It ties you to Steo, the same way Parker is tied to him.”

Oh.

Is that what her shadow monster is called?

Wait.

Oh, shit.

The demon fucker smirks, watching realization hit me like a freight train. “Now you’re getting it.”

I swallow hard, every muscle in my body coiled tight. “So we can use it?”

“Oh, we can use it.” His grin turns razor-sharp. “But you’re not gonna like how.”

Of course not. But I force my voice steady. “Tell me.”

He rolls his shoulders, all effortless grace, like he’s enjoying dragging this out. “We follow the connection.”

I frown. “How?”

The beast licks his teeth. “Your blood.”

My stomach drops and I stare at him. “You want me to bleed our way there?”

He nods, looking far too entertained. “A steady trail will lead us straight to him. To Parker.”

A groan escapes me as I drag a hand down my face. Figures that me dying would be the way to get Silver rescued. “Fucking fantastic.”

The demon chuckles. “Relax, human. You won’t die.” A pause. Then, with way too much satisfaction, “Probably.”

I glare. “That’s really fucking reassuring, hairy asshole.”

He shrugs. “It should be. I need you alive. Without your connection to Steo, it could take me ages to find him. If I find him at all.”

That shuts me up real quick.

Without me… Parker might never be found. And she’s worth every drop of blood I have to give.

“You can call me Rad. And for the record, my asshole isn’t completely hairy.”

Ha Ha. He’s so fucking hilarious.

I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders back. “Alright Rad with a bald asshole. Let’s do this.”

Rad watches me for a beat, something unreadable in his expression. Then, he holds out his hand.

“Give me your arm.”

I hesitate. Not because I don’t trust him—okay, because I don’t trust him—but because I know what’s coming.

But I offer my arm. Parker needs me and no amount of pain will stop me if there’s even the tiniest chance she might survive, might live.

The demon–Rad–flexes his hand, one clawed finger extending with deliberate ease—curved, wicked sharp, catching the dim light like a blade. My stomach twists.

“This is gonna sting.”

“Just do it.”

Rad doesn’t hesitate. A sharp, burning pain flares as blood wells up, warm and thick, rolling in crimson rivulets down my skin. It drips to the floor—dark, pooling.

And then?—

Rad moves.

His claws flex, his own power unfurling as he crouches, dipping his fingers into the spreading blood. A slow, deliberate swirl. The air shifts.

A thin, inky tendril stretches from the puddle, like it’s reaching, drawn toward some unseen force. It writhes and slithers forward, carving a path—leading straight into nothing.

A door that shouldn’t exist.

Rad grins, sharp and knowing. “There. That’s our way in.”

I swallow hard, staring at my own fucking blood being used as a key to hell—or in this case, the Evergloom, I guess.

Rad doesn’t wait. He steps forward, movements fluid, effortless, like he’s walking through smoke, like he’s done this a thousand times.

He glances back at me, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Try not to die, human.”

And then—he’s gone.

I exhale sharply, fists clenching, and follow him through despite every instinct telling me not to.

But for Parker… I’d do anything.