My throat rips.
My vision splinters into shards.
“Come back to me, Remy.”
That voice.
“I have what you want.”
I know that voice.
That whisper.
I feel it in my veins.
“She’s mine,” he snarls. “She already took my venom.”
He has to die.
I curl my fingers, calling out the shadows that twist in my head.
Before I can strike, the scent of blood pierces my throat.
Passion fruit punch.
I choke.
Where—?
I inhale, follow the scent.
It leads to a rope of shadows. Leashed around my own wrist?
The tail of the rope connects to a pocket of darkness I forgot I was controlling.
Abandoning the devil, I wink into the shadows.
She waits for me.
Her energy seeks mine.
The touch of her soul is soft.
Familiar?
I feel my eyebrows pinch.
She seems to already be mine?
If so? Then why do her thighs reek of sulfur?
She licks the blood on her lip, spreading it like gloss.
I make a strangled noise as my throat tears. I can’t lunge for the kill.
Lifting her hands and taking small steps, she moves toward me.
Her unfocused eyes can’t find me in the dark. I try to pull my silks out of her reach, but my soul ignores my will.