The demon might not have needed sleep, but my body did. Each time it drifted off, I ended up here—the white room. It was a weird place, even by my standards. Stark ghost walls were covered in framed pictures of Sam. Well, half of the walls. The room had an invisible line. The half I was on—the one I couldn’t seem to leave—had the pictures. Everything from our lives together growing up, to moments I’d spied after leaving Harlow, occasionally looking in on her life in secret. Once in a while I’d notice a new picture on the wall, a snapshot from something that happened after Azi took control. Those were different from the others. Encased in a black frame with cracked glass, they had an odd shimmer to them, like the canvas was dusted in super fine glitter.
The other half of the room was bare, for the most part. There were two things on the walls. A steering wheel—it looked like it’d come from a car—and a pencil imbedded halfway to the eraser. Like the thing had wounded the wall, it seeped blood, fresh pools of it trailing down to puddle at the floor. The puddle never seemed to get any bigger, spanning a space only about the circumference of a volley ball, but I could see it actively dripping down the wall.
But the worst part? There were no windows and no doors—and no sound. Several times I’d felt like something was watching me, but I saw nothing. I assumed it was Azi. Tonight was one of those nights, but it felt different somehow. The air was charged, and it was almost as though there was a cool breeze blowing across my skin.
I leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor. My gaze fell to a picture of Sam on my right, one from after I’d left home. She was wearing a sleek red dress—one of my favorite colors—and stood watching with a mildly bored expression as Chase pinned a single red rose to her strap. Prom night. I remembered it all too well. She’d looked amazing, the most stunning thing in the room, but her expression had been vacant. Dead. She’d laughed at Chase’s jokes, danced to loud music—even attended an after-party rave—but anyone with eyes could see she wanted to be anyplace else. I’d almost gone back that night. The pain in her eyes had cut deep enough to make me consider doing the unthinkable. In the end, though, as I watched her settle into her room in the early morning hours, I decided she was better off without me.
I was an ass.
“Whatever the fuck it is you want, I’m not interested.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something. The opposite side of the room had darkened, and tufts of black smoke wafted off the wall beside the pencil. “You must tell me how to gain Samantha Merrick’s cooperation.”
I scrambled upright as the smoke began to take shape. It took a few moments, but soon a black shadow stood before me, shaped like me, but not quite solid. Wisps of feathery black twitched around the edges, making the thing look like a dark cloud. I could barely make out my own features through the murk—which was creepier than I would have expected.
“Lemme guess,” I said. “Santa Claus?”
“You understand that we will both perish, do you not?”
“I understand that you made me a prisoner in my own fucking body!”
The churning smoke twisted and surged, racing at me with a horrible howl. Obviously the demon wasn’t restricted to a single side of the room like I was. “You killed my mate.” The words bounced off the walls, and I fell to the ground, ears covered as the sound reverberated through my entire body like ten thousand razors cutting into my skin.
A few moments later, Azi reformed in the corner and the pain faded. “We must work as one. If Zenak wins in any capacity, Samantha Merrick will die.”
I righted myself again and used the wall to stand. “And you care so fucking much?”
“If I was not concerned for her, I would not be forcing her to find the stone using such unpleasant methods.”
“Have you met Sam? No one can force her to do anything she doesn’t want to.”
“Not true,” the demon said with a laugh. The smoke around it cleared for a moment, giving me a quick glimpse of my own dark features. “You can.”
“I can’t—and neither can you.” I stalked forward, forgetting about the invisible wall. When I reached the barrier, it was like someone had kneed me in the face. “If you fucking touch her again, I’ll—”
“Fine,” it said with an odd sense of satisfaction. “Challenge accepted.”
The smoke exploded, and wisps scattered in all directions before dissipating completely. The force of it knocked me back into the wall. There was a rushing sensation and the white room fell away. A sound filled the air. It was familiar, but it took a second to realize that it was my voice.
The demon bolted upright, and my body went rigid for a moment as the last remnants of an agonized roar tore from my throat. I—we—were awake.
There was a thud on the other side of the room, followed by Sam’s bare feet slapping against the groaning, ancient hardwood. “What? What happened?” She flipped the lamp on and light flooded the room.
“It was—I—” The demon maneuvered my body sideways and Sam came into full view. She was still wearing her jeans and T-shirt, but it was immediately obvious that she’d removed her bra. The thin cotton of her shirt clung to the perfection beneath, shifting with tantalizing allure with each movement she made.