“What the fuck is going on here?”

  Marga woke with a jolt, bolting upright. Eyes popping open, she stared at the source of the voice—and cringed.

  Cara Newman, fellow witch, best friend since kindergarten, partner in crime, and royal pain in the ass when pissed, stood in the open door, brandishing a baseball bat as a weapon. As a friend of the family, she’d been allowed in by the wards and now tilted her head, ebony locks falling around her shoulders, her dark blue gaze darting between Marga and Atticus.

  Flinching, Marga realized what the scene must look like—she was sitting in bed, her hair ruffled, the sheets rumpled, and a very naked Atticus lay next to her, his arm slung around her waist in a casual display of possession.

  He yawned, stretched, and gave her an impossibly gorgeous sleepy smile. “Morning, little witch.”

  “Marga?” Cara finally asked in the same voice one might use on a friend that was about to jump off a high building.

  “Umm…” Marga cleared her throat, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Oh? So…you’re not cuddled up to a naked demon in your bed?” Cara asked, undoubtedly having picked up the faint trace of Atticus demon aura, even toned down as it was during the day. She arched one black eyebrow, her body still in battle mode.

  Marga grimaced. The heat in her face increased. “I can explain.”

 Cara didn’t loosen her alert stance, holding the baseball bat ready-to-swing above her shoulder and eyeing Atticus as if he were a rabid dog. “Yeah? I’d like to hear that. Why is there a demon in your bed? And why the fuck is he naked?”

  “Oh dear,” Atticus said from his sprawling position. He peered up at Marga, a worried expression on his face. “Has no one told her yet?”

  Marga stared at him, too stunned to react.

  Propping himself up on his elbows, he turned to Cara. “All right, it pains me to be the one breaking it to you—I think that’s your parents’ job, but since you asked…” He sighed. “Well, grown-up men and women—yes, even witches and demons—have certain needs, and when a woman feels especially needy—”

  He didn’t get to finish that explanation. The pillow Marga smacked down on his face effectively shut him up.

  Her best friend gaped at Atticus, dumbstruck. Rendering Cara Newman speechless was quite an achievement.

  “Let’s step out for a moment, shall we?” Marga scooted to the edge of the mattress and was about to get off the bed when the embarrassment factor of her situation shot up by several points.

  “Cara, I checked downstairs, all clear,” a familiar male voice called from the hallway, seconds before Alonzo Newman walked in the room. “Find anything up—” Cara’s twin brother froze and fell silent as he beheld the scene.

  Different from his sister as day was from night, with dark blond hair and eyes the color of molten chocolate, he was indisputably handsome. Add to that the air of protective warmth and quiet strength that he exuded, and he was a prime male specimen, appealing to women on the most visceral level. In fact, if Marga hadn’t grown up with him, her feelings toward him those for a brother she’d never had, she’d have been one of his drooling female admirers.

  However, the fact she considered him her brother didn’t make it any less embarrassing that he’d walked in on her being in bed with a naked male.

  “Uh…” Alonzo’s gaze darted from Marga to Atticus and back to Marga. “I guess that explains why she hasn’t been answering her phone all day,” he said to Cara, cocking one eyebrow.

  “It’s not what it looks like!” Marga threw up her hands.

  “That hitch in your voice,” Atticus said while gazing up at her, “is that despair?”

  Cara turned to her brother. “She was just about to tell me what she’s doing in bed with a naked demon.”

  “He’s a demon?” Alonzo’s head whipped around and he pinned Atticus with a lethal stare.

  “And I’m naked.” Atticus waved at the nude length of his body and grinned.

  Marga stared at the floor, waiting for a hole to open up and mercifully swallow her.

  “Hold this and watch him,” Cara said to Alonzo, and, handing him the baseball bat, she motioned for Marga to follow her out of the room.

  Marga narrowed her eyes at Atticus as she got off the bed. “Behave. And, for the love of the gods, get dressed.”

  “Yes, honey.”

  She caught Alonzo’s appalled look and cringed. “It’s not—we’re not—” Sighing with resignation, she muttered, “It’s complicated.”

  Alonzo said nothing as she walked past him, simply raised his eyebrows and returned to staring at  Atticus as if the demon were a mold fungus in his breakfast cereal.

  “All right,” Cara said as soon as Marga had closed the door behind her, “what in the world is going on here? First you tell me Marissa’s been taken by a demon, then you fall off the grid for almost two days, you don’t answer your phone, and then we find you having a pajama party with another demon. What the hell is up with that?”

  Marga took a deep breath before venturing to answer. The air was suddenly as thick as fog. “I unbound him from the Shadows to help me find Marga. He’s a bluotezzer demon, same as the bastard who took her.” She held up a hand as Cara started to reply. “He’s still leashed to me and I’ll send him back into the Shadows once we find Marissa.”

  Cara stared at her, indigo eyes wide. “You unleashed a demon that was bound in the Shadows? Have you gone insane? What if he turns on you?”

  “I made him believe he’ll be automatically bound again if he kills me.” Believe being the operative word.

  “What if he finds out the truth?”

  “Let’s pray he won’t,” was Marga’s quiet answer. She reached out to squeeze Cara’s hand. “Look, I’m sorry I was out of touch—I turned my cell on mute before I unbound Atticus, and I had no idea you’ve been trying to reach me. I didn’t mean to spook you guys.”

  Cara’s deep blue eyes darkened, and the lines of her face softened as she studied Marga for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were going to do?”

  Marga’s heart weighed heavy in her chest. “Because I know you, Cara Newman. You’d have tied me to a chair to keep me from doing it.”

  “Damn right I would have—it’s a suicide mission!”

  “It’s the only chance I’ve got to find her. I’ve tried every other way I could think of, believe me, but nothing worked. And I have to find her, Cara.” It was not a question of choice, but of simple survival. A part of her would die along with Marissa, the part that mattered most.

  “So you unleash a monster to catch a monster.”

  “I can’t give up on Marissa. She’s out there, at his mercy.” Marga took a shaky breath, fought down the urge to cry. Weakness wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I’d unleash a thousand monsters to find her.”

  Cara regarded her for a long moment with eyes that had always put Marga’s motives to the test, challenged her in the best of ways. While being loyal to a fault, Cara was also the one person who never sugarcoated her opinion, and her unwavering honesty had helped Marga more than once positively question herself, and grow in the process.

  Now, Cara nodded and gave her a grim smile, tempered with grief matching her own. Although she’d always been closer to Marga, Cara had never considered Marissa any less than a sister by choice, too. “Yeah, and since I can’t stop you from risking your neck, I’ll be right behind you, saving it.”

  Marga returned her best friend’s smile, her heart a bit less heavy at the display of a bond that was as thick as blood.

  “Okay,” Cara said more lightly after a moment, “now explain to me why that demon hunk in there is nude. Have you two…?”

  “No, I’m not sleeping with him. He’s just…really difficult to handle.”

  Cara crossed her arms in front of her chest, fine lines forming on her forehead. “I’ve been doing some research on bluotezzer demons since you told me about Marissa, and they seem to have a special kind of diet.”

  “I know.” Marga rubbed her forehead with one hand. “Blood, pain, and pleasure.”

  Cara’s gaze bored into her. “Please tell me you’re not providing him with that.”

“As little as possible,” Marga said after a taut silence, “as much as necessary.” She parried Cara’s concerned reproach. “I need him strong enough to find that other demon. For that, he needs to feed. Would you rather I let him loose on others, innocents, maybe?”

  “I’d rather we feed him intravenously. You know, maybe chained to a bed.”

  Marga couldn’t help giggling at that mental image, and Lily joined her involuntary amusement with a grin.

  “Seriously, though.” Cara’s expression sobered. “I’m worried about you. Be careful with him, all right?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “And let me know how I can help you with all this. You know you won’t get me off your back now, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” Marga gave her a small smile. “And speaking of which, there is something you can do.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Keep collecting info on bluotezzer demons, as much as you can—strengths, weaknesses, habits, whatever you can find. And while you’re at it, please do some research on the binding spell, too. If I’d had more time, I’d have prepared better before unleashing him. I had to rush into this with very basic info, and I have to be careful with what I look up while Atticus is around. The less he knows, the better.”

  Cara nodded. “Got it.”

  “Another thing—let’s keep the lid on this, okay? Don’t tell anyone about Atticus, not even your mom and least of all Isabel. The last thing I need is for the Elders to get wind of this.”

  “Yeah, they won’t be happy to hear you unleashed a demon without their consent.” Cara raised one of her sleek dark eyebrows.

  “Exactly. I really don’t want them breathing down my neck.” Marga shuddered. “I have my hands full as it is just dealing with Atticus.”

  Cara’s eyes danced. “He looks like more than just a handful.”

  “Cara!” Marga gaped at her.

  “What? I may not like demons, but I’m not blind!” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice. “Now, this is totally off the record, and I’m saying this as a woman, not a witch, but—he’s like Gorgeous Central! Talk about sinful temptation.”

  “I know,” Marga groaned, thumping her forehead against the doorjamb. “Why can’t he be one of those demons with scaly skin and foul breath? Do you have any idea how hard it is to remind myself why I shouldn’t just jump him? I’m a mess of raging hormones!”

  “Well,” Lily said, patting her shoulder, “if you ever need a reminder, I’ll be happy to swing by and kick some sense into your butt.”

  “Appreciated.”

  “That’s what friends are for. All right, so what’s the battle plan from here?”

  Marga heaved herself off the doorjamb. “What time is it?”

  “Half past five.”

  “In the afternoon?” Her voice shook with disbelief.

  “Yeah.”

  No way. That meant she’d slept almost twelve hours straight, without waking up once. Never, in her entire life, had she slept that long, and especially not that soundly—peacefully. And she’d have probably kept on slumbering if Lily hadn’t barged in. Incredible.

  “Everything okay?” Cara’s gaze was scrutinizing.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” More than fine… Marga shook herself and refocused. “Well, we’ll have to wait for sundown, then we can start searching again, when Atticus regains his powers. I don’t know how fast we can track that demon down, so in any case you should keep gathering information. Call me if you find anything significant.”

  “You too, all right?”

  Marga nodded.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own with Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerously Handsome? Alonzo could come with you.”

  Marga shook her head. “I can take care of myself. Besides, I have a feeling if Alonzo tags along, he and Atticus will end up at each other’s throats…”

  “True.” Cara’s gaze flicked to the closed door. “Speaking of which, let’s check on the guys. It’s awfully quiet in there.”

  A sinking feeling settled in Marga’s stomach. “Maybe they’re only exchanging I’ll-kill-you-scowls?”

  For a second, they stared at each other. Then they rushed into the room.