Seeing Sophie’s face, Layla realized she’d made a mistake. She’d thought Hunter must be a friend of hers, but now it was quite obvious that he was about as far from being a friend to her as possible.

“Get away from her, demon!”

Sophie reached Layla’s side in a moment, grabbed Layla’s arm, and yanked her back and away from Hunter. She dragged Layla behind her and stood protectively between them so that Layla was left stuttering in shock, her sketchpad clutched uselessly in her hand.

It was one thing for them to clearly not be friends, but Sophie acted as though Hunter had just been holding Layla at gunpoint.

A crackling in the air made Layla glance around before she could form any coherent comment, and she saw Damaris holding what looked like a stick of lightning. The witch was muttering something, and a second later, a whooshing swept through the air. A mostly transparent bubble appeared around Hunter then—apparently confining him.

“What are you doing here, demon?” Sophie spat, still keeping Layla firmly behind her. For now, Layla didn’t fight the intention—she didn’t know what to think and could only step back and stare. Damaris came to stand on her other side, her eyes narrowed as she held the lightning bolt threateningly.

“What’s going on?” Layla whispered to Damaris. Damaris just shook her head slightly, her gaze still focused on Hunter.

“Relax, I didn’t force my way in,” Hunter said easily, apparently unconcerned about the blatant signs of unfriendly magic. “No need to go to war about it.”

“Like you didn’t sense she was new? You played on her ignorance, on her not knowing what you are.”

Hunter shrugged. “No point in waiting outside. I have a business proposition for you.”

“I have one for you,” Sophie growled. “You get out of here right now, and Damaris won’t fry you to a crisp and send your ashes back where you came from.”

For the first time, Hunter looked a little worried, but his words flowed as smoothly as ever, and Layla felt somewhat shocked to realize they still had a calming effect on her. She still felt safe with him, despite the new developments around them.

“You won’t do that,” he continued as Layla tuned back into the conversation. “Not once you hear what I’ve got to say. We need each other.”

Damaris snorted, and the lightning bolt quivered.

Hunter glanced at Layla before continuing, seeming once again to choose his words carefully. “I know where you’ve been. I know what’s just happened. I can help.”

Sophie’s fierce expression faltered for a moment, and Hunter took full advantage. “I’m Hunter. If my information is correct, I’m speaking to Sophie, High Priestess of the Orlando Coven?”

They haven’t even met? Layla glanced at Damaris for some insight into what was going on but got nothing.

“Yes.” Sophie’s voice was guarded, but she wasn’t ordering Damaris to attack, so that was something. Layla’s head was still spinning with confusion, but she certainly didn’t want Hunter attacked. She hadn’t known him that long, but he didn’t seem like a bad person…not to mention the definite connection she felt to him.

“I’m with a group of my kind wishing to live on earth’s surface, at least for a while. Your people have hardly made it easy, though. The rest of the supernatural community isn’t much better.

“Here’s my offer. I know what’s been happening to witches around here. We will protect you while we investigate and then eliminate the threat, and in return, once that is done, you will put protective wards around a property of our choice that will allow us to live in peace. You will also ask the rest of the community to leave us alone. They’ll listen to you.”

Considering Sophie’s attitude so far, Layla fully expected more threats and demands. She was surprised to find Damaris looking thoughtfully at Hunter, as though at least she was considering his offer. Not that Layla really understood half of what was being offered and bargained for.

“Get him out of here,” Sophie snapped at Damaris, turning away from the man in front of her.

Damaris took Sophie’s arm, speaking quietly. “We should consider this,” Layla heard her whisper.

“There’s nothing to consider,” Sophie spat. “He’s a demon! We can’t trust him.”

“We’re in a very precarious situation. I don’t need to tell you that. They need us, and we need them. They’re offering to fulfil their side of the bargain first, Sophie. They have every reason to follow through, or they won’t get what they want.”

“Unless what they want is to get at us when we’re vulnerable and take out the strongest coven in this area.”

“Your mother would have considered it.”

Sophie’s fierce expression faltered, and Damaris pressed her advantage. “We don’t need to trust them, but I think it’s clear by this point that we need help. We haven’t been able to stop it—nor are we any closer to being able to do so.”

Sophie glanced at Hunter, who seemed to be waiting patiently. She didn’t look convinced, and Layla was suddenly glad that Damaris held the lightning bolt.

“Okay, we can talk about it,” Sophie said slowly, addressing Hunter again, “but only if you let us test you first.”

Damaris closed her eyes briefly, and Hunter seemed to pale.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked in a clipped voice.

“It is if you want to make a deal with us.”

Layla glanced between them, her heart speeding up in reaction to the tension in the air. More than ever, she wished she understood what was happening around her right now.

Damaris sighed. “I’ll call Rose and Lizeth. You can stay right there.”

Hunter nodded and sat down slowly, looking for all the world like he was being careful not to make any sudden moves.

Sophie stood straight-backed and tense, observing his every breath as Damaris retreated slightly. Layla could hear her murmuring on the phone a few seconds later and decided she couldn’t wait any longer for answers—not after how safe she’d felt with both Sophie and Hunter separately even though they were apparently at odds now.

“What’s going on?” Layla asked for what felt like the dozenth time. She wasn’t sure if Sophie even heard her, though; the witch seemed to be too busy watching Hunter intently to notice anything else. It was Hunter who answered Layla’s question.

“They need to be sure they can trust me. There’s a spell they can do to ensure that a speaker is telling the truth.”

“Then why do you look so nervous? That sounds simple. If you can be trusted, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Not quite,” Hunter said grimly, his eyes now on her instead of Sophie. “The spell is…difficult. It’s not used often. It’s taxing and painful on both sides.”

Layla took a breath—this was so much to take in, so quickly; for the first time since she’d been told she was a witch, she felt the fact that she hadn’t slept a wink last night and was near dead on her feet. She looked at Sophie, who still wasn’t responding to either of their comments, focused as she was on Hunter. “Then why do it?” Layla asked. “It’s like Damaris said, right? You both need each other. One of you betraying the other would do no good.”

“Tell that to your high priestess.”

Somehow, Layla didn’t think Sophie was going to budge on this. Still, she didn’t want to see Hunter hurt. She trusted him. Instinctively, she somehow knew this whole thing was unnecessary.

“Damaris,” Layla said as the other woman approached to join Sophie in the one-sided staring match with Hunter. “We don’t need to do this. We can trust him,” Layla said quietly, trying to project confidence into her voice. Desperately, she wanted to see how Hunter was reacting to her faith in him, but she kept her eyes on the other witches.

“You don’t know him or his kind,” Damaris said darkly. “Maybe it’s not strictly necessary, but I’m not going to argue against taking extra precautions.”

“This isn’t a fight you’ll win,” Hunter told Layla, and she glanced back to see that his eyes were also dark, accepting.

Which left Layla with nothing to do but try to ignore the tension in the room. She wasn’t even sure if Sophie had blinked since she’d opened her door to find Hunter sitting on the couch. Silently, Layla sat down in a chair to wait things out.

Lizeth and Rose arrived quickly, and Layla wasn’t entirely surprised to see that they looked just as tense as Damaris. They also had two bags with them, which they immediately set down on the table.

“You go,” Damaris murmured to Sophie. “I’ll watch him. I have the shield.”

Reluctantly, Sophie turned to the table where the bags were being unpacked. Layla didn’t want to leave Hunter under shields and Damaris’ stern gaze, but curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s all this?” she asked as she stepped up to the other women. There were crystals, a variety of herbs that she couldn’t name, some glittery gold thread, multiple candles, and a few smooth white rocks.

“For the most part, witches can cast serious magic with just a thought or a word,” Sophie answered, her voice still tight as she glanced over to see that Hunter hadn’t moved. “And this is a very difficult and complex spell. It requires physical aids.”

Layla was fascinated. Lizeth and Rose started putting the stones in a circle around Hunter, just outside the omnipresent bubble. They both looked at him as though they expected him to attack at any moment. Layla wished she could ask more; she still had no clue about half of what was going on. Now probably wasn’t the time, though.

Upon Sophie’s instructions, Layla also set the candles in the circle, spaced between the stones, and lit them. Perfumed with some kind of flowery scent, their flames seemed unusually bright.

Hunter watched with seemingly casual interest, but now and then, Layla caught a flicker of anxiety on his face. He was good at hiding it, but she could tell he wasn’t thrilled about what they were going to do. Yet, he obviously wanted this deal badly enough that he was willing to suffer through it.

Suddenly, Layla choked as a truly foul smell engulfed her. Clamping her fingers over her nose, she spun around. Lizeth was at the stove, cooking what smelled like a mixture of poop and rotting entrails.

“What’s that?” Layla backed away from the source of the smell, horrified.

“Truth telling potion,” Hunter answered, his voice sounding strange because he also had his nose blocked with one hand. Layla had no idea where they’d managed to find herbs that smelled so foul when cooked, but she couldn’t believe many people knew about them—or she doubted they’d be legal. She’d certainly have banned them, given the choice.

As Layla looked on, the crystals went into the air, literally hovering in front of Rose. The woman flicked her hand, and they swept into position, forming a sort of cave around Hunter. They hung there then, as though suspended by invisible strings.

Damaris came from downstairs with some kind of amulet on a leather thong, entering the room from the one door Layla hadn’t really entered earlier—the cellar had looked so dark, she’d lost her desires to explore.

Hunter took a step back when he saw what she held, so that Layla suddenly felt as if perhaps she shouldn’t have explored at all—who knew what trouble she could have gotten into?

“Hey, now, what do you have that for?” he asked after another breath.

“This spell will activate all of our prices for magic. If you’re lying, we’ll be helpless to defend ourselves against you once we find out. I’ll set it to activate only if you attack one of us.”

Hunter grimaced reluctantly, but took Damaris’ hand when she held the amulet between the two of them, reaching beyond the bubble’s barrier.

“Activation condition: if the demon attacks any witch in this room within twenty-four hours of the truth ritual. If not activated, the amulet will be destroyed.”

“Agreed,” Hunter said. The amulet glowed between their hands, and Hunter put it around his neck.

“What is that?” Layla asked.

Hunter looked disquieted as he answered her. “It’s a death spell.”

“What?”

“Your sisters are right; they’ll be too weak to defend themselves after the truth spell. If I betray them, this amulet will activate and kill me. If I don’t, it will self-destruct. Or Damaris can do it herself, sooner.”

Layla gaped at him. A death spell? If he was lying, he could get killed. Wasn’t his acceptance of this thing enough that they didn’t have to go further?

“No,” Layla responded, looking among the other witches; she’d never felt sure like this, and it didn’t matter that she’d just met all of them. “I don’t like it. That’s not necessary.”

“It is,” Sophie said firmly. “Death spells are almost as taxing to create as truth spells. Once that amulet is used up, it’ll take weeks to create another, but we always try to have at least one on hand. If Hunter doesn’t attack us, he has nothing to fear.”

“It’s not necessary,” Layla insisted, getting more worked up by the second. She didn’t want Hunter’s life in danger, no matter how slim that danger was.

Rose shrieked as the head of the faucet in the kitchen burst off and water jetted out from the top. Rushing forward before anyone else, she put her hands over the jetting stream; the flow of water slowed and stopped within a few seconds. She glanced at Layla, grinning. “Not bad. Try to keep your emotions under control, though, at least until you’ve learned to control your magic better.”

Shaken, Layla didn’t say anything.

The others came and stood just outside of the circle of stones. In a moment, they’d bound their wrists together with the glittering gold cord. “Stand back,” Sophie warned Layla, who hastily retreated.

The four of them started chanting then, but Layla didn’t understand the words. She thought they might be Latin.

All at once, everything lit up. The crystals shone with a blinding inner light, and the candle flames stretched to reach almost a foot high. As Layla watched, fascinated, Hunter cried out and fell to his knees in obvious pain. Her every instinct told her to interrupt, somehow, but she braced herself back against the table, knowing it wasn’t her place at this point.

“Has every word you told us been true?” Sophie asked.

“Yes.” Hunter struggled to his feet. The crystals glowed green. Apparently, this meant he was telling the truth, as all four witches looked relieved. The crystals went back to a bright yellow.

“Are you working for anyone currently?” Sophie asked next.

“No.”

“Do you have any grudge against this coven?”

“No.”

“Do you have any hidden intentions that you haven’t disclosed to us?”

“No.”

After each answer, the crystals glowed green, but as the questions continued, Hunter sank onto the couch, shaking. Whatever the spell was doing, it was obviously hurting him.

“That’s enough,” Layla whispered harshly. “He’s telling the truth! Let him go.”

Sophie didn’t look inclined to stop questioning Hunter, but Damaris nodded in agreement. “We have what we need, Sophie. He’s telling the truth. We shouldn’t make him suffer more than he has to.”

The lead witch paused, staring into the circle for another moment before she spoke. “Fine. Let it go.”

The cord dissolved into nothingness then, and chaos broke loose.

Rose screamed like she was being murdered. She fell to the floor, writhing in obvious agony. Sophie collapsed, apparently unconscious, and Lizeth just stared off into space without moving. The only one who seemed the same was Damaris.

Layla knelt down by Rose’s side. “Rose, Rose, what’s wrong?”

“It’s okay,” Damaris said calmly. “We all have to pay a price to use magic. That spell extracts the maximum price from all of us. I’ll have no more magic for a day. Lizeth and Sophie will probably be out for hours. Rose should only have about ten minutes, though.”

Ten minutes seemed like an eternity. Damaris put a pillow under Rose’s head and held her hand, murmuring comforting words. Watching, Layla wasn’t sure if Rose could hear her, but she felt relieved that Damaris was doing something.

Not able to look at Rose’s obvious pain, Layla turned to Hunter. He was lying on the couch, pale but otherwise looking all right.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Go help the others.”

Layla reluctantly turned to Sophie. At least she wasn’t screaming like Rose was. She grabbed Sophie’s arms and managed to maneuver her onto another couch, making sure it was positioned to face away from Hunter; she didn’t think Sophie would react well to seeing his face the moment she woke up.

She tried to get Lizeth to sit down, but the witch might as well have been a statue.

“She’ll be fine there,” Damaris said from Rose’s side. Rose finally stopped screaming in the next moment, and Layla almost collapsed in relief. Damaris put her arm around the now silent Rose and helped her upstairs, apparently supporting most of her weight.

“She needs to lie down,” Damaris explained over her shoulder. “Get her something to eat and drink, won’t you?”

Glad to have a useful task, Layla moved back to the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and put a chicken sandwich on a plate.