The night air was balmy, but chills trailed sharp claws along my flesh.

I held up my lantern, trying not to cringe away from the shadows dancing around the light. Summoning a demon—in a dank cave where my screams couldn’t be heard if something went wrong—wasn’t exactly how I would’ve envisioned my life three weeks ago.

Back then I would’ve happily spent my nights creating new recipes for Sea & Vine. I would have read a steamy romance, and wished a certain fratello would forsake his oath to God for one night and worship me instead. That was before I found my sister’s desecrated body.

My current wishes centered on two things: finding out who murdered my twin, and why.

Well, three wishes if you counted my dream of gutting the bastard who killed Vittoria. That was more than a wish, though. That was a promise.

Satisfied there wasn’t anything lurking in the cave with me—like rats or snakes and other unpleasant surprises—I set my lantern on a flat rock and my basket of supplies on the packed dirt. I’d studied the summoning spell until my eyes crossed, but shivered a little anyway as I pulled out the items I needed.

Black candles, fresh fern leaves, animal bones, a tiny jar of animal blood, and a bit of gold. I didn’t have much of the latter lying around, so I brought the gold serpent dagger with me. It seemed only fitting that the mysterious stranger’s blade would be used to hunt him down.

If everything went smoothly, a lesser demon would be contained within the circle. I knew it wouldn’t be able to leave the designated area, but I was still less than excited to be in a darkened place alone with a monster from Hell. Even one easily controlled and magically bound.

I glanced over the sheet of carefully written notes again, stalling. For the summoning to be successful, I needed to follow the rules of the ritual precisely. Any deviations could unleash the demon in this realm. First, I needed to set up the circle, alternating the candles, ferns, and bones. Next, I’d set the tiny jar of blood inside the circle’s boundary. Then I had to formally invite a demon to join me, using Latin, their native tongue.

I hesitated on that point. Latin wasn’t my favorite subject Nonna tried teaching us. There were so many words that were similar but whose definitions were vastly different. One slight shift in meaning could bring disaster. It would’ve been less worrisome if I had more than a base understanding of the dark arts. Or if Vittoria’s summoning spell also included a trusted ancient phrase to use instead of simply indicating one was needed based on the witch’s intent.

My true intention was to find out what my sister had been doing before her death, then track down the person who murdered her and kill him. Violence and blood vengeance wouldn’t be the politest way to open a summoning, though. And I worried about the repercussions it could have. Luckily, I’d given great thought about what I wanted from the demon. I didn’t want to offer it any opportunity to escape the circle, and I certainly didn’t want it to harm me, so I decided on aevitas ligati in aeternus protego. Which roughly translated to “Bound forever in eternal protection.”

Forever seemed like a wise idea when it came to making sure a demon couldn’t leave the circle. And if it was forced to protect me, it couldn’t very well attack me. For the final portion of the spell, I needed to prepare an exit. Apparently, demons were creatures of strict rules and had to adhere to them, so if I invited one to join me, I had to formally uninvite it and send it back to its realm. Good manners were advised, but I wasn’t sure how well I could carry out that part.

I took a deep breath. “All right, Emilia. You can do this.”

I slowly set objects down in a circle. Bone. Fern. Candle. With varying lengths, they looked like rays of an occult sun. I lit the candles and walked around the perimeter, clutching a bird’s skull to my chest, the final piece I needed to make it complete. I hesitated.

If I placed this last bone in the formation, the circle would be set.

I inhaled, then slowly exhaled. I had no idea what kind of demon would answer my call. Some looked human and others were walking nightmares, according to Nonna. She never gave us specifics, which I wasn’t sure was a blessing now. My mind was exceptional at picturing fang-toothed, claw-tipped, wicked creatures that crab-walked backward on multiple legs.

Clouds floated across the moon, creating a distorted effect on the cavern walls. Chills caressed my spine again. The goddess of storm and sea wasn’t pleased.

I stared down at the skull I held, wondering if this was really the path I should take. Maybe I should blow out the candles and take myself back home and go to bed, forget about demons, witch hunters, and the devil. Nonna said once darkness was invited in, trouble shortly followed.

A flash of my twin’s face—dark eyes sparkling with mischief, and her lips quirked up on one side—crossed my mind. Before I lost my nerve, I bent down and quickly fit the last bone into place. Silence swept around the chamber, sealing off the pleas of the sea. I crept over to the edge of the circle, the tiny jar of blood in hand, when a powerful blast of wind tore through the cave.

Bats screeched and flew at me. Hundreds of them. I screamed, tossing up my hands to protect myself as they raged around me like a living storm. Distantly, I heard glass break. I dropped to my knees, covering my head as little wings and claws tore at my hair and neck. Then, as quickly as it had happened, the bats were gone and the cave went still.

I took a few deep, shuddering breaths and slowly pushed a tangle of hair from my face. During the brief attack, it came undone from its simple braid. Long loose curls tickled my back like spiders, bringing on more goose bumps. Flower petals littered the ground like soldiers who’d fallen in a skirmish they hadn’t seen coming. I’d forgotten there was a closed-off tunnel near the very back of the cave.

I pressed my lips into a thin line, furious with myself. If I could summon a demon, I could get over a bunch of bats.

In theory.

I stood on shaking legs and brushed myself down, shifting my attention to the summoning circle, and cringing at the broken glass winking in the moonlight. Blood splattered the ground around the perimeter, which was no good for me. It needed to be within its border to entice the demon.

“Stupid bats from Hell.” I didn’t have another jar of blood, and walking all the way back to the restaurant would take forever. The spell needed to be cast at night, and daybreak was only a couple of hours away. I’d never make it there and back in time.

I glanced around the cave, desperate enough to kill something if I needed to. Of course, now that I could use a bat or snake or another creature, it was truly empty. Kicking at rocks and muttering the sort of foul language that would make both my mother and Nonna’s heads spin, I finally looked over Vittoria’s mysterious grimoire sheet again.

Technically it didn’t specify that animal blood was needed. It only advised using it.

I relit the candles and picked up the serpent dagger, reasoning that I needed it to complete the spell anyway. The time for hesitation and interruptions was over. Whether I liked it or not, if I wanted to break the spell on Vittoria’s diary, this was my best option.

If I had to offer a little of my own blood, it was a small price to pay.

I ignored the pain as I dragged the blade over the top of my forearm; I needed my hands for cooking later and couldn’t afford to cut my palm. The metal glowed as if pleased with my offering. Not wanting to think too hard about a blade that gloried in a blood sacrifice, I held my arm over the summoning circle and began chanting as soon as the first drops hit the ground.

“By earth, blood, and bone. I invite thee. Come, enter this realm of man. Join me. Bound in this circle, until I send thee home. Aevitas ligati in aeternus protego.”

I held completely still, waiting. For the earth to crack, the gates of Hell to snap open, hordes of witch hunters to rush me, or my heart to stop. Nothing happened. I was about to start chanting again when it began. Smoke swirled around the circle’s edge like it had been trapped in a jar, never crossing into the rest of the cave. It pulsed with energy; almost lovingly caressed my hand. I dropped the dagger and yanked my arm back, hugging it to me until the sensation ceased.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. A stronger wave of darkness shifted around the circle, obliterating the inside of it completely from view. Black, glittering light emerged from the center. I could hardly breathe. A sound like a crackling fire in winter preceded the demon’s arrival. I’d done it. I’d actually summoned a creature from Hell! If I didn’t pass out from the shock, it would be a true success. I waited, heart hammering, for the smoke to clear.

As if answering my unspoken wish, a phantom breeze carried it away, revealing a tall, dark-haired man. His muscular back was to me and he wore only low-slung black pants. He wasn’t at all what I expected from a lesser demon. Golden skin glistened in the candlelight, the smooth perfection broken only by an assortment of shimmering ink. His beauty was an affront to what evil ought to look like. I supposed I should be thankful he didn’t have a serpent tail or wicked horns.

The demon rotated in place like he was getting acclimated to his new location. His chest and torso were chiseled in a way that indicated he was well-acquainted with weapons. My attention dropped to a metallic gold tattoo that started on top of his right hand, and coiled up and around his arm and shoulder. A fearsome snake. I didn’t have time to catalogue its details because he was now fully facing me. I sucked in a sharp breath as I finally met his gaze. Dark gold irises with flecks of black stared back at me.

Beautiful. Rare. And lethal. Even though Nonna claimed their eyes were tinged red, I knew in the very marrow of my bones what he was.

“Impossible,” I whispered.

He raised a brow. His expression was so human, I forgot, for a second, how he’d arrived in this cave. He shouldn’t exist. Yet there he was defying all of my expectations. Tall, dark, and quietly seething. I couldn’t drag my attention from him, worried he was either a figment of my imagination, or proof of madness. I’d used the dark arts. Maybe this temporary delusion was my price.

It was much easier to think that was true, rather than accept I’d done the impossible—I’d bound one of the Wicked to this realm. Which was very, very bad.