It had to be the most complicated seal she’d ever seen. The circular design was full of hundreds of smaller sigils, intersected by intricate lines. Each one required a precise audible syllable to be chanted during the process of drawing and activating it. One mistake and the whole thing would fail.
Lily had never even considered dabbling in demonology before, but even if she had, she would never have attempted such a difficult summoning. In fact, successful summonings of a demon this powerful were so rare, the last one she’d heard of had to be nearly a century ago.
And didn’t that just give her a big ol’ boost of confidence.
Rather, she was already breaking into a cold sweat just considering it. But she did have one advantage—hopefully. She was pretty sure.
She was banking on Mist realizing who was summoning him and therefore not fighting it. It was the demon’s resistance that made it such a risky venture. The more powerful the demon, the stronger they resisted the seal’s pull. She’d never read about a demon thatwantedto be summoned before, but she could only assume it would make the job easier.
Mist had to want to come, right? Even if he was angry with her, wherever he was in Hell couldn’t be preferable to her company, could it? And even if he didn’t want to come, if she screwed up or wasn’t strong enough to trap him—a distinct possibility—he wouldn’t want to harm her, right?
How much did she really know about him? Basically nothing. She hadn’t even known his full name until she’d found it in this book.
Everything she knew about demons said they loathed being bound into service and would fight with everything they had to escape. And if they did, best believe you were going to wind up dead. Humans that dabbled in the supernatural were exempt from Heavenly protection, and a demon would never miss an opportunity to kill without consequence, especially if the human he was killing had tried to enslave him.
Little though she knew about Mist, however, she just couldn’t believe he would harm her.
But was she willing to stake her life on it? Because that was precisely what she would be doing. And for what purpose? To help someone she’d met twice, who’d lied about who he was? Was it really worth the risk?
Logically, no. Not even close.
But there went that instinct again telling her that yes, itwasworth it. That she had to do it. And damn it, she was tired of being afraid of everything.
She wanted to be fearless and strong. She wanted to look in the mirror and think,That is one badass lady. Not,I really shouldn’t have had that cake last night.
Mist was right. Life was too short to spend full of longing, and she was done being a coward.
All fired up from her mental pep talk, she used her phone to snap a few pictures of Mishetsumephtai’s seal. After returning the dusty tome to the shelf, she dug through the organized containers and gathered all the casting supplies she could possibly need and then some.
Chalk. Lots of chalk. And candles, crystals and other semi-precious stones, feathers, some incense and herb concoctions—all the typical witchy stuff. All she really needed was the seal and the chalk, but the other stuff helped focus the energies, and she needed any boost she could get.
Supplies gathered, she loaded everything into her oversized purse, flicked off the lights, and headed upstairs. Closing the door and reactivating the wards, she rearranged the ugly robes and flicked off the back-room lights.
Her phone rang the moment she stepped outside.
Cursing, she slammed the fire door shut and dropped her giant bag to dig for her phone at the bottom. She debated ignoring it, but what if Iris was freaking out again? It had taken a lot of effort to convince her to go home after work and not back to Lily’s place, and she needed her sister to stay away for a while.
When she finally found it, she gasped when she saw the call display. “Mist? Is that you? Where did you go? Your friend said y—”
“It’s not Mist.”
The deep voice had an undertone of something scary, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
Slinging her heavy bag over one shoulder, she hurried toward the street. “Who is this? And why do you have Mist’s phone?”
“Are you Lily?”
“Yes…”
“Judging by the thirty-five missed calls from you on Mishetsu’s phone, I’m guessing you wanted to speak with him.”
“Yes, and?”
“He’s gone back to Hell and is currently unreachable. That’s why he hasn’t returned your calls.”
Her steps faltered as she turned onto the sidewalk. “He’s actually in Hell?”
“Not because he wants to be. Because he had no choice but to go or die.”
