Okay, she was not thinking about that right now. Or ever again.

Dear God, what had her life become?

Knock, knock.

Who’s there, she thought as she leaned out of the hall and looked at the front door.

What if it was the Brotherhood? If they could trace the phone, then they no doubt knew where Sahvage had spent the day. What if they were coming for the—

“Mae?” Came a muffled voice through the door. “Mae, dearest, are you in there?”

“Oh, Jesus—Tallah.”

As she lunged through the living room, she thought it was so typical of the older female to be confused. Yanking the door open, she found the old female right on the stoop, dressed in one of her caftans, her gnarled hands gripping a small purse to her caved-in chest like she was a beggar.

“Come in, come in,” Mae said as she pulled the female inside. “So you’re safe.”

Tallah tripped on the door’s lip, and Mae had to catch her fragile body before she hit the floor. As soon as she was steady, Mae bolted back to the bathroom, talking the whole way.

“I’m praying that you can read this,” she said over her shoulder.

Rounding the corner into the loo, she frowned. Over on the bath mat, the Book had closed itself up again.

“Oh, come on,” she muttered as she went to pick the thing up—

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

Mae froze. Then slowly straightened and turned around.

The brunette was standing in the open doorway, Tallah’s caftan too short in the sleeves and on the bottom as it covered her spectacular body.

“And can I just tell you”—the demon looked down at herself—“I am so happy to get this shit off of me.”

With the wave of an elegant hand, the loose folds disappeared and were replaced by a black catsuit. Tossing her gorgeous, shiny hair over her shoulder, she smiled with those blood red lips.

“So, I think you and I are back where we started last night.” One blood red finger lifted. “Well, except you owe me four hundred thousand dollars. Why—why—did you have to go for my Himalayan crocodile? And I’ll bet it wasn’t even calculated. You probably didn’t even know what you were burning, did you. You are such a stupid, fucking cunt.”

“I don’t . . . understand.”

“Of course you don’t. I swear, you’re that line out of ‘Thirty Something.’” As Mae blinked in confusion, the brunette well-duh’d her. “Jay-Z? Jesus Christ, you probably listen to folk music, and you definitely don’t shop at Bergdorf ’s. Fine, you want to know what purse is that? Birkins are a handbag made by the Hermès company. They are the most coveted bags on the market, and each one is made by a single craftsman who takes—”

Mae shook her head. “Not about the purse.”

The demon seemed surprised her lecture was being interrupted. “You know, this could be a real learning opportunity for you. Then again, you’re not going to be alive for much longer soooooooooooooooooooooo . . . yeah.”

“How are you in this house?”

“You invited me in, dummy.” She smiled some more. “And no, the fact that you didn’t know it wasn’t Tallah doesn’t count. An invitation is an invitation. You should have been more careful—oh, and I was in the cottage before your boyfriend with the salt went to town. All he did was close the door with the wolf already in the hen house. Or something. I’ve never been very good at animal metaphors. Sorry.”

“But . . .”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Do I have to draw a diagram? You summoned the Book, and as soon as you did, I felt the spell. The goddamn thing is mine—and some asshole stole it from me, but that’s another story. That shithole cottage was not protected, so I just waltzed right in—and Tallah—”

“Where is she,” Mae demanded. “What did you do with her—”

“Sweetie, she’s long gone. She had nothing left to fight me with. It was like pulling off a wet Band-Aid. Work of a second.”

Mae moaned and weaved on her feet.

“Puh-lease.” The demon rolled her eyes and stomped her stiletto. “I wasn’t that bad as a roommate. I even cooked for you and your BF—and you liked that stew. Then again, it was really good. I put a lot of heart into it, I really did.”

As Mae’s mind struggled to catch up, she wanted to fall into her emotions, but knew that that was a death sentence. She had to think. Think. Think—

In the silence, the demon’s eyes shifted to the tub. And then she did a double take.

“Oh, my God.” She glanced at Mae and laughed. “Of course. I was wondering why someone as straitlaced as you wanted my Book, but I should have known it was for a sappy reason. Who is he—”

As the demon stepped toward the tub, Mae threw her arm out. “Don’t you hurt him!”

The demon froze. Looked at Mae. Looked back at the tub. “Holy fuck . . .” Then, “He’s your brother? That . . . that virgin, my virgin, the one who got away, is your brother?”

Mae felt dizzy as she remembered Rhoger coming through the door and collapsing into her arms. Dying . . . from his wounds.

“You killed him,” she breathed. “You are his murderer.”

The demon whispered a couple of curses. “Man, fate is so fucked up sometimes, it really is—and that explains why I recognized you back in the cage he’d been in.” She drew a hand through her hair, as if in frustration. “And yeah . . . even though I mighta let you use my Book, you know, ’cuz I’m such a nice girl, now it’s a case of over my dead body you’re bringing that thief back. And considering I’m immortal? You’re going to have to wait forever before I keel over.”

Instantly, the demon’s affect changed.

Gone was the breezy conversation bullshit.

“Now give me my fucking Book,” she gritted out.

Mae grabbed the tome and held on to it with both arms crossed over her chest. “No. You’re not taking this from me.”

Black eyes glittered. “Give. Me. My Book.”

Mae shook her head slowly even as she started to shake. “You’re going to have to take it from me. Go ahead. You’re so much stronger than I am. You’re so fucking powerful. Come and take it.”

The demon’s beautiful face grew ugly with fury, and the air around her warped. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with.”

“Yes . . . I do.”

Even as she wondered what the hell she was doing, Mae unfurled her lower arms and laid the Book out to the demon.

“Take it.”

The snarl that vibrated into the tension between them was that of a predator, low and deadly. “You fucking—”

“Mae,” came a deep voice.

The door into the garage closed with a bump at the other end of the house.

“I’m just here to get my guns,” Sahvage called out. “And then I’m gone. Don’t frickin’ worry.”

The demon straightened. And cocked a delighted smile.

Then she whispered, “Looks like I’ve got a little leverage all of the sudden, don’t I.”

In a louder voice that sounded exactly like Mae’s own, the demon said, “I’m down here. And I need you.”