Warmth rushed into my cheeks and I surreptitiously slid the blankets higher. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my tank top. “What’s wrong?”

“I just want to check on you.” He crossed to my bed. I couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose, but he swung the door hard enough that it clacked shut behind him. Dropping onto the foot of my bed, he grinned at me. “How are you feeling after that scare? Did you sleep okay?”

“Pretty well,” I mumbled. Post-adrenaline exhaustion could do that. I didn’t mention that I’d woken up at 6:30 a.m. from a nightmare involving Zylas, the circle, and my gory death. I’d been reading in bed ever since, afraid to go back to sleep.

“That’s good.” He cleared his throat. “While I’m here … I’ve been meaning to apologize. Amalia told me you aren’t a summoner or an apprentice or anything. I’m sorry I bought into Dad’s bullshit and gave you the cold shoulder for so long.”

“It’s okay,” I told my blanket, unable to meet his eyes.

“I want to make it up to you.” His smile returned. “The rest of the family is going to a meeting at noon, but I’m on demon-watching duty. I have to stick around the house, so why don’t we hang out?”

I blinked up at him, confused. “Um … sure.”

“Cool. I bet there’ll be a horror movie on—can you believe Halloween is tomorrow? Month, gone.” He hopped up. “I’ve got a few errands to run, but I’ll be back home around one o’clock.”

“Okay.”

He breezed out and closed the door, leaving me blinking in anxious bafflement. Why did Travis suddenly want to hang out? Was it a ruse to interrogate me about my “demon encounter” last night?

Dragging myself out of bed, I slouched into the attached bathroom and turned on the shower. I’d hoped the hot water would relax me, but I spent my whole shower planning various cover stories and evasions in case Travis questioned me about Zylas. Maybe I should pretend to have the flu?

I blow-dried my hair so it hung straight and neat around my heart-shaped face, the ends brushing my shoulders, then wandered down to the kitchen and made myself a small breakfast of fruit and yogurt. I ate at the breakfast bar, my self-help book propped in front of me but my focus completely shot.

Kathy marched in and out, busy with preparations for her excursion. Amalia passed by once, her usual jeans and oversized sweatshirt replaced by a sexy halter-top dress, its mid-thigh hem showing off her long legs. Her hair was twisted up into an elegant bun.

“Where are you headed?” I asked as she strode in the opposite direction.

She swerved off track, coming over to investigate my food. “The annual general meeting for our guild. It’s a good time for networking, otherwise Dad wouldn’t go while the demon is so close to breaking.”

The MPD required all mythics, even those who didn’t actively practice magic, to be guilded. It was a crucial part of the system of checks, balances, and accountability that hid mythics and magic from the public, but it could also be a pain in the butt.

Stealing a slice of apple off my plate, Amalia added, “Dad hates leaving Travis to watch things.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Travis,” she drawled with an unhelpful eye roll. “See you later, Robin.”

“Have fun.”

She laughed sarcastically but gave me an almost friendly smile as she sauntered out of the kitchen on four-inch heels.

A few minutes later, the clamor of the family leaving quieted. I rinsed my dishes and left them in the sink, then resumed reading my self-help book in my bedroom. Unsurprisingly, “10 Foolproof Reasons Not to Trust Hellish Incarnations of Evil” wasn’t a chapter. I needed a book specific to people with chronic, life-threatening inquisitiveness.

Thoughts of last night wormed into my focus, but I stomped them down. I wasn’t giving Zylas another minute of my time or consideration. Dragging out a pair of earbuds, I put on music and continued reading.

One o’clock arrived without my noticing. Clueing in twenty minutes later, I tossed my book on the bed and headed down to the main level. The family room was empty, so I curled up on the leather sofa and selected a remote. After figuring out how to turn on the eighty-inch flat-screen TV, I channel-surfed for a quarter of an hour, my anxiety growing by the minute. Maybe Travis had forgotten. Should I go back upstairs? Better yet, should I use this time to search the house for my mom’s grimoire?

A door clattered. Footsteps thumped, then Travis wheeled into the room, looking frazzled.

“Sorry, Robin!” he said breathlessly. “Got held up.”

“It’s fine.”

“I need to check on the demon.” He waved at me. “Come on.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Come with me. Won’t take long.”

“Uh.” I shrank into the sofa. “I’d rather not.”

He grinned encouragingly. “You’ll be perfectly safe. It’s good to face your fears.”

I hesitated, debating whether a flat-out refusal would look suspicious. He extended his hand in offer, his feet set like he intended to wait there all afternoon. Not knowing what else to do, I reluctantly climbed off the sofa and straightened my white t-shirt.

“Atta girl! Knew you were tough.” He caught my hand even though I hadn’t offered it. “Let’s get this done.”

He pulled me across the room. I looked at my hand in his, my stomach churning with apprehension. Why were my instincts screaming at me to run away?

As Travis reached the stairs and started down them, firmly tugging me along, I told myself it would be fine. If he tried to interrogate me about last night, I would leave. He wouldn’t stop me from leaving … would he?

We reached the hallway at the bottom and my eyes darted to the open library door. Light spilled across the hardwood. Travis just needed to check on the demon. The circle would be filled with impenetrable darkness, like always, and we’d …

Why were the lights already on?

The disquieting question had scarcely pierced my thoughts before Travis pulled me into the library. My gaze flashed across the black dome and the podium in front of it, then caught on the three people waiting for us.

I recognized two of them: short, brusque Karlson and his huge, silent companion, whom I’d dubbed Hulk. Uncle Jack’s clients, the ones waiting to buy a contract with Zylas. The third man was tall but not looming, with a military buzz cut and muscular arms displayed by his tight t-shirt.

My feet rooted to the floor. Travis turned and smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. I suddenly doubted whether it had ever been warm.

He slung his arm around my shoulders and dragged me forward. “Come on, Robin, don’t be shy.”

The three men assessed me with cold calculation.

“This is her?” Karlson snapped impatiently.

“Yep.” Travis forced me to stand in front of the men like a model on display. “This is the only person the demon has spoken to. It lured her close enough to grab her.”

“And she survived?” the third man inquired flatly.

“My arrival must’ve startled the demon. She fell out of the circle in complete hysterics.”

I stood mute. Whatever was happening, it was bad. I needed to get out of here, but Travis was holding my shoulders and the three men were blocking my escape.

“Is she an apprentice?” Karlson barked.

“Nope. Doesn’t know shit about demons. She’s a sleeper.”

A sleeper—a mythic who didn’t practice magic. It wasn’t a flattering term.

Karlson grunted, then stepped toward me. “All right, girl. I don’t like wasting time, so I’ll make this quick. We want that demon to talk, and you’re the one it wants to talk to, so you’re going to help us, understood?”

“H-he didn’t talk to me,” I began. “I—”

Karlson’s hand flashed out and pain exploded through my head. I fell back into Travis, a scream lodged in my throat. My cheek throbbed violently.

Karlson lowered his arm. “Didn’t I just tell you I hate wasting time?”

“Hey,” Travis growled as he helped me straighten. “There’s no need to hit her.”

“I’ll decide that. Keep your mouth shut and let the adults handle this.” He folded his arms. “Now get the demon talking.”

I trembled, my mind spinning in a desperate search for a way out. Travis turned me around and steered me toward the circle, stopping a foot away. I stared into the pitch black.

“Talk to it, Robin,” Travis said, then added in a mutter, “This isn’t going how I expected.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I hissed.

“Because I’m the stepson. Dad will never give me a demon name, so I need money to buy one.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, we can help each other, okay? Amalia told me Dad is hoarding your inheritance. I can help you with that. Once I get the contract bonus from these guys, I can hire a lawyer. Whatever you need.”

I craned my neck to stare at him. He returned my look, earnest but also afraid. Was it dread over betraying his father or fear of his new business partners?

“Get on with it!” Karlson commanded.

Travis let out a sharp breath. “Please, Robin.”

Did I have a choice? I cleared my throat. “Uh, demon? Would you say something … please?”