“Dūkāra Vh’alyir et Dīnen evashvā vīshissā.”

Crimson lit the metal amulet and flared out. I gasped as a huge spell circle expanded outward, nearly touching the walls. Runes and markings swirled across it, then faded. Another circle appeared, then faded. Yet another appeared, then faded.

The amulet went dark.

I squinted at the floor as though that would make the magic reappear. “What … happened? Was that a spell?”

“No. It was instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“It is the vīsh to end summoning.” His eyes burned as he faced me. “We can do it. We can end it. Forever.”

We could? Zylas and me? Millennia of violence, of cruel magic and brutal suppression, of death and the destruction that had begun with two genius minds blinded by a desperate need to protect their people—and we could stop it forever?

But I ask you this, daughter of my daughter, honorable scribe, survivor, sorceress: When will it end?

Three millennia after Melitta had asked, I had the answer.

It would end with me.

Twenty-four hours later, my head throbbed from a tension headache, and my eyes didn’t want to focus on anything farther than two feet away. I’d been squinting at tiny runes for too long, my contact lenses not helping with the eye strain.

Walking along the sidewalk, I breathed deeply, letting the chill February breeze clear my head, then peeked at Zylas.

He walked beside me. Amalia had grabbed her in-progress sewing when she’d taken off, but she’d left her last prototype, similar to the one he’d worn on our doomed mission with Zora and her team. The dark garments fit him exceptionally well, and he’d left his metal greaves off this time, so the pants moved more naturally with his graceful steps.

I glanced at his feet, relieved I’d bought three pairs of the same shoes, knowing they wouldn’t last under demonic levels of wear and tear.

Dark sunglasses reflected the street as he scanned everything. The midmorning foot traffic flowed around us, and with each person to breeze right past him, an odd feeling tightened my chest more.

No one looked at him. No one cared. The reddish undertone of his skin wasn’t eye-catching when only his face and hands were exposed. His eyes and tail were concealed. Even his retractable claws could pass as an unusual goth aesthetic—unless he slashed someone.

Rubbing my forehead, I glanced nervously skyward, but the chances of Nazhivēr suddenly appearing to ambush us yet again were slim. Not only was he unlikely to attack us on a busy street, but he and Xever had what they needed: they’d gotten Zylas’s blood.

With four nights until Xever’s portal opened, he was probably focused on his own plans and not on whatever Zylas and I were up to.

Unfortunately, he was right not to worry about us. I still hadn’t figured out where the portal was, let alone figured out how to stop him from opening it on Thursday at dawn.

We reached our destination: a sandwich shop. Zylas didn’t need to eat, but I did, and he wasn’t keen on me wandering around the city without him.

I peered through the window at the lineup inside, then murmured to Zylas, “It’s crowded. Do you want to wait out here?”

He nodded.

I left him outside the door. The scent of fresh-baked bread engulfed me as I entered the building and got in line. My gaze drifted back to the window where Zylas leaned, hands in his pockets, imitating a casually waiting human.

The prickly tight feeling in my chest intensified. In his lightweight armor with tail lashing and eyes glowing, Zylas’s demonic-ness was unmistakable. But until recently, I hadn’t considered how easily he could blend in—or how little people cared about his oddities.

I imagined bringing him in here with me. Would anyone comment? What about the grocery store? A movie theatre? A theme park?

As long as he could wear a hat and sunglasses, he could go anywhere I could go. As long as we didn’t have any close encounters with other mythics who might recognize a demon, was it actually that risky?

If we did run into other mythics … Zora’s team hadn’t realized the man in black accompanying me wasn’t human, and they knew my status as a contractor and had even seen my demon before.

The unexpected bubble of excitement expanding in me fizzled at the thought of Zora. I’d never replied to her texts, letting her think I was dead to protect her and her team from the consequences of associating with a rogue contractor. Why was I thinking about how easily Zylas could pass as human?

Why was the idea of him doing human things with me so enticing?

“Hey.”

I started. Two guys around my age stood in line in front of me. They were both smiling at me in a friendly way. I blinked at them.

“Do you eat here often?” the blond one asked. “Got any recommendations?”

“Uh … no, it’s my first time here.”

“I’ve been twice before, and the sandwiches were great. I’ve never tried the soup, though.”

“Oh.”

His smile faded slightly and he hitched it back. “On your lunch break?”

“Yes,” I lied, since it seemed easier.

“The line is pretty slow. Want to go ahead of us?”

“No thanks. I’m fine.”

The guy drooped slightly. “I don’t mind, but … okay.”

Seeming strangely disappointed that I didn’t want to take his spot in line, he turned back to his friend and they started discussing the merits of chili versus sandwiches.

I stared at their backs, puzzling over the odd interaction as the line shuffled forward. After the two guys had ordered, I requested two turkey sandwiches—one for later—and a large chocolate brownie to share with Zylas.

The cashier handed me my paper bag of food, and as I hastened toward the door, I noticed the two guys lingering by the exit. The blond one held the door open for me.

“Hey,” he said again. “Uh … I don’t want to bother you, but …”

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and paused, eyebrows scrunched.

“I was just wondering if I could … take you out for coffee sometime? If you’re interested?”

My mouth fell open. He shuffled his feet, a pink tinge rising in his cheeks. His friend cringed, noticed me noticing his cringe, then plastered on an encouraging smile.

“Um,” I began. “I …”

The blond guy’s gaze flicked to something behind me—and his blush vanished as his face went white. “Never mind. I didn’t realize—sorry!”

He whirled around, his buddy right with him, and they power-walked away, shooting glances over their shoulders as though expecting to get attacked from behind.

Warm breath stirred my hair.

I turned around and found myself face to chest with Zylas. He was practically standing on my heels, menace rolling off him.

“Did you scare those guys?”

He growled wordlessly.

“They didn’t mean any harm,” I protested.

“They were watching you. The whole time.” He shot me a glower. “You did not notice.”

I wilted, embarrassed by my obliviousness, then hurried down the sidewalk, heading back toward the apartment building. Zylas walked beside me, grumbling under his breath, but I was distracted by the realization that a reasonably good-looking guy had asked me out. That had never happened before. My one boyfriend had evolved from a group project at college. No one had ever flirted with me out of the blue.