Page 2 of Raising the Sun

I looked down to find my body had, thankfully, returned to its original, solid state, though it took another breath or two for my senses to follow suit. The needling burn had vanished, at least. Small mercies. For a fleeting moment, I dared not move, not even to wiggle my fingers and stimulate blood flow.It wasn’t out of fear, my stillness, but to limit distractions as I got my bearings.

Why have I been dragged here of all places?

More than a few decades had passed since I’d paid the human realm a visit. An uneventful one, as I anticipated this would be, though it already felt different somehow. There was a tone to this summoning that I couldn’t quite place, a sweeter and more enthralling note than the typical evil that accompanied these…events, and I considered myself intrigued.

How long that was to last, who could say? I waved a hand through the still billowing smoke, regardless, impatient to lay eyes on the human brave or foolish enough to perform a summons. Yet, once the dark fog had cleared, I was not faced with the crazed devil worshipper hoping for a taste of divinity I’d expected. Instead, it was a young, timid creature—with the most delicious aura of innocence—kneeling on a bed in the middle of an uninspiring, cluttered room, looking startled and confused.

My gaze landed on the binding circle at my feet, and a scowl was unavoidable. Nowthatwasn’t something I had foreseen, and the primary response swelling in my gut wanted to be rage, but I snapped out of the unseemly emotion as something in me clicked. My earlier thoughts regarding entertainment falling into my lap now felt greatly prophetic. Or they would have, if not for the six feet of distance between me and my untainted host.

Though, with another appreciative glance at the creature and a determination born of pure, unadulterated boredom, came a realisation that the particulars may yet be arranged. And was that a long overdue thrill I felt in my bones? I did believe it was.

Tempting a virgin to ruin?

Much better than an orgy.

A smirk crawled onto my face, my blood thrumming, but before my forked tongue could curl around a verse of seduction, the pretty little pet found his voice, further captivating my interest—unintentionally, to be sure.

“Who thefuckare you?!”

Chapter one

ISAAC

EARLIER THAT DAY

It was early. Tooearly to be out of bed and drinking burnt coffee because the only spot open at the arsecrack of dawn was the greasy service station cafe in the next town over. But, there I was, hands clasped around a chipped mug, listening to my brother whinge about his week, trying not to screw up my face with every mouthful.

It was rare that we could meet—every month or two, when our schedules aligned—so I had to lump it, sticky tables and all. Wayne had called me yesterday, harping on about how I distanced myself whenever I was struggling, and how getting me to socialise was impossible, so despite the ungodly hour, I was here, proving him wrong.

In actuality, I’d just been too busy running a business into the ground to stop and chat. Nothing personal, but still. Part of me knew I had to make more of an effort.

It really had been too damn long since I’d seen his cheery face.

“Have you signed up for the flower show yet?” he asked, taking a sip from his own cup, his eye twitching as he swallowed.

We were nothing alike in appearance. He was as broad as he was tall, his hair a dark brown, and he smiled more often. If it weren’t for our matching nose freckles, and the fact that we both had our mum’s eyes, no one would ever peg us for brothers. It was a running joke between us that I’d come from the milkman.

“No, and I’m not going to.” He was talking about the Flower Festival, a huge event held in our county every two years. It wastheevent for anyone even remotely into floriculture; a weekend filled with all things floral, and it was my favourite place on Earth.

Florists came from all over Britain to compete in the revered Sunday Show to prove their talent and attract new customers. I’d only ever taken part as a spectator, even with Wayne’s constant insistence that I should enter. I’d have loved to. It had been a dream of mine since I was a kid, from the very first time our mum thought I was old enough to appreciate it and I’d watched the competition through awestruck eyes. But I wasn’t ready.

He knew that.

Or at least he was aware thatIknew that.

“Come on, Iz,” he said, nudging my foot under the table like we were five. “It’s been four years since you set up shop. I know you want to.”

I scoffed, brushing my thumb along the rim of my mug. I couldn’t bring myself to drink any more. “It has nothing to do withwanting.”

If it had, I’d have signed up years ago.

“You just need to have more confidence in your abilities.”

“I’m confident that I’m not cut out for it,” I said with a humourless laugh. “Foranyof it.”

“Course you are.” He said it with conviction, setting his cup on the edge of the table. I guessed neither of us could stomach finishing the swill. “And besides, you don’t mean that. Otherwise, you’d have given up by now.”

I hummed. “That’s what Mum and Dad would want.”

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