Page 19 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
We approached the elaborate ritual setup, and Zane frowned. "We're all supposed to fit in there?"
"Just the two of you," Hannah said, holding up a black candle. "We'll work from the outside."
My hand tightened around Zane's. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it, but I couldn't bring myself to let go.
"What do we need to do?" I asked, proud that my voice didn't shake.
"Stand in the center and don't break the circle," Miranda instructed. "No matter what happens, stay inside until we tell you it's safe."
"And if something goes wrong?" Zane asked.
Miranda's eyes met his, deadly serious. "Then I'll tell you when to grab her and teleport out."
That was apparently good enough for Zane, but it did nothing to calm the panic rising in my throat. He guided me into the circle, positioning himself slightly in front of me. The protective gesture wasn't subtle, but I found I didn't mind.
Hannah approached with the black candle. Julian's name had been carved into the black wax, and my guitar pick—his—was embedded near the wick. My stomach twisted at the sight of it. She placed the candle in the center of the other circle, then rejoined the others outside the chalk lines.
The witches positioned themselves around us, forming a triangle with Zane and me in the center. They joined hands and began to chant, their voices weaving together in a harmony that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
The temperature in the room dropped. I shivered, my breath visible in small clouds. The candles flickered to life, their flames stretching tall before shrinking to pinpoints of light.
"Julian Rathaway," Miranda called, her voice resonating with authority. "By name and token, we summon you."
Nothing happened at first. Then the shadows in the corners of the room began to move, sliding across the floor like spilled ink. They gathered at the edge of Julian's circle, pressing against the barrier like curious animals testing a fence.
"Julian Rathaway," Hannah repeated. "By blood and breath, we command you to appear."
The black candle's flame ignited on its own, the flame burning blue. The air grew thick, heavy with something that tasted like old pennies and stale cigarettes.
Julian's favorite brand, I realized with a jolt.The ones he always bummed from the sound guys.
"Julian Rathaway," Poppy's voice joined in. "By bond and memory, we bring you forth."
The shadows convulsed, then shot upward, forming a column of darkness that slowly sank toward the blue flame. Ipressed against Zane's back, my hands gripping his shirt. He reached behind him, finding my hip and holding me steady.
The darkness took shape. A man's silhouette, indistinct at first, then sharpening into features I knew better than my own. He wasn't solid, more like a projection made of smoke and malice, but he was undeniably Julian.
"River." His voice sounded wrong, like it was coming through water or static. "Always hiding behind someone else."
My throat closed up. He looked exactly as he had the last time I saw him alive. Thin and pale, eyes rimmed with shadows, but still beautiful in that haunted way that had drawn so many to him. A year of guilt and grief crashed over me in waves.
"Julian," I managed to say.
His attention fixed on me, ignoring Zane completely. "Did you think you could get rid of me that easily? After everything I did for you?"
"You're dead, Julian," I said, forcing steadiness into my voice. "You need to move on."
He laughed, the sound distorted and cruel. "Move on? When you're still using my songs? Still riding on my talent?"
"They wereoursongs," I countered, but my voice cracked. "We wrote them together."
"I made you," Julian hissed, his form rippling with anger. "You wanted to be the star. You couldn't stand sharing the spotlight. Without me, you're nothing."
I flinched as if he'd slapped me. The words echoed those from our last fight the night before he died. The night I walked away.
"That's not true," I whispered, but doubt crept in like poison.
"Isn't it?" Julian paced within the confines of his circle, his movement fluid as smoke. "Look at you now. Hiding in your hometown. Begging for scraps at that pathetic festival. You need me. You've always needed me."
