I nodded and met the demon’s eyes from across the room. Of course he had.
Saul felt my pain and sorrow because we were connected by the Hecate Ritual my grandmother performed when I was just a baby. I’d finally read all about it in her grimoire. The ritual wasn’t elaborate or even complicated and consisted of two overlapping circles—one salt for protection, the other grave dirt for summoning. Grandma used a blessed moonstone crystal to connect them, the correct colored candles, and the invocation to call on Hecate. Then the Goddess graced the offered infant. The hardest part had probably been sneaking me into North Serene Hills, the abandoned part of town, where a magical power grid was not only crisscrossed by countless ley lines, but also situated in the middle of a three-way crossroads.
My grandmother had taken me to Hecate’s domain to protect and empower our familial legacy. According to Grandma, she never caught a glimpse of the Goddess herself but felt the world hum beneath her feet and sensed Hecate’s presence inside the circle. I was offered as one of Hecate’s children and the Deity provided her most loyal demonic servant—Seere, also known as Seir and Sear. I knew him as Saul Sear.
This was why I was connected to a white demon I’d met less than a week ago. Having someone practically read my every feeling made me uncomfortable, but for the most part, Saul didn’t interfere.
“Sierra, are you going to be all right to do this?” Lavie rubbed my arms.
I nodded, though the tears I wiped away with the back of my hand contradicted my words. Where had they come from? I thought I’d swallowed them down. The kindness of others and their condolences would no doubt make everything worse. Losing a friend to death wasn’t something I could erase, no matter what I’d promised Ebony. Coping with her loss would hopefully get easier with time, but the pain would never fade. I still mourned Benita more than I should, but Ebony was too fresh.
Don’t lose it now, I told myself over and over again. She’s not truly dead yet.
If I focused on that one point, I might be able to concentrate enough to save Papan.
I stopped my rampant thoughts, patted Lavie’s hand, and slowly made my way around to the other side of the bed, never taking my eyes off Papan’s gaunt features. He looked even paler than when I left less then twenty-four hours ago. The beeping of the machines keeping him alive had become the soundtrack to my visits. I hadn’t left his side for days, refusing to budge. It wasn’t until Saul pointed out I was starting to smell that I finally headed home.
Instead of sleeping, I’d showered and then dragged Willow with me to tackle the long list of outstanding cases on my desk. Rest was something I could do another time—once Papan was conscious and walking around.
“Hey Papan,” I said, running my hand over his longish blond hair and pushing the strands away from his cool forehead. He didn’t register my touch or presence. If I was completely honest with myself, I knew he was slipping away. According to the doctors, all of the silver and the hellhound gunk had completely left his system so I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t regained consciousness.
I kissed his bristly cheek and whispered, “I hope you’re not angry about what we’re about to do.” I’d been determined to give him several days to recuperate on his own before doing the inevitable—a demonic blood transfusion. Saul was going to inject him with his own blood, and hopefully do what modern science hadn’t been able to. Though I was scared about what this could do to Papan’s wolf.
“Sierra,” Saul said. “It’s time.”
“Are you sure his body won’t reject it?” I asked, glaring at the demon.